“Stay down.”

“I am down! If I were any more down, I couldn’t see out the window. That sort of defeats the purpose—”

“Slow down, Bert.” Decker looked around. No streetlights; it was dark, empty, and wooded. The organic smell of decomposing foliage was mixed with the pungent stink of skunk markings. The humid air rang with a chorus of insect mating calls, accompanied by hoots from the local owls. The traffic from the distant boulevard came off as a continuous purr. “Okay, now stop here.”

Martinez put on the brakes. They were at the marked intersection.

“There are the street signs—Manor Lane and Herald Way.” Decker leaned over to the front seat and pointed out the windshield. “It’s right in the headlights.”

Jacob nodded.

“Do you remember this spot?”

The teen leaned forward as well. “Yeah…” Jacob’s heart was pounding. “Yeah, this is it.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I remember the way the signs pointed down…off-kilter. You know, I should sit up front—that’s where I was seated when she drove me home.”

“I know. But the back is safer. You’re right behind where you were, so your view is pretty much the same.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have a view from the front windshield. It’ll make a difference, Dad.”

“We’ll have to forgo it. Which way from here, Jacob?”

“I…I’m not sure.”

“That’s okay. Take your time.”

His stepfather’s voice was soothing. Jacob’s mind was a swirl of unpleasant memories. He did some hand gestures that simulated turns, but shook his head. “I remember going down. So which way does the road rise the most?”

“To the left,” Webster answered.

“Then go to the left,” Decker ordered. “Sit back and put on your seat belt.”

“All right, all right. Stop being such a mother hen.”

“If I were a mother hen, you wouldn’t be here.”

Martinez turned left, dragging the Honda along a partially paved road. The shocks, even at the current crawl, protested with each bump, dip, and pothole. Gravel churned under the tires. Bert flipped the switch into all-wheel-drive mode. “I knew this car would come in handy one day.”

“First time you’ve ever used it?” Webster asked.

“For mountain roads, yeah. My wife uses AWD when she goes out in heavy rain.”

“Anything look familiar?” Decker asked his son.

Jacob’s eyes scanned the terrain of shapes and shadows. “No. It…it all looks the same.”

“Don’t worry. We’re going on a long shot. Nothing is expected from you.”