Decker’s steps became halting, his attitude more hesitant as they walked up into the unmapped lane and farther away from the car. The tire tracks had all but faded…dissolving. Where did they go?

Four hundred…four fifty, and still no sign of any kind of outpost. Except for the serpentine passageway, there wasn’t any indication of human habitation. Either the shack wasn’t nearby or was hidden within the overgrowth.

Five hundred feet up the roadway…about one-tenth of a mile. Not much in distance, a short jog to get back to the car. About ten seconds…maybe fifteen. A lot could happen in fifteen seconds. Images darted across Decker’s brain, specifically, the inferno that had destroyed the Order of the Rings of God. How close had they been to that crematorium, saved by seconds from becoming ashes of death? The horrible snapshot became too strong a picture to stifle, even with the strongest of rationalizations. Decker’s growing concern for his son’s welfare outweighed a life possibly at stake. He had been holding Jacob’s arm. He tightened his grip, causing the teen to jump.

“We’re going back,” he whispered.

“What! Why?” the boy whispered back.

“Because we’re too far out. Because I say so.”

“But we’re almost there.”

Martinez entered the conversation. “How much farther up?”

“I’m not sure, but I think we’re close,” Jacob insisted.

“You think?” Decker shook his head. “That’s not good enough. You don’t even know if this is the right turnoff.”

“No, it’s the right turnoff. I’m positive.” Jacob regarded his stepfather’s skepticism. “I know I was stoned, but you notice things.” His eyes scanned the terrain. Then he squinted, jutting his head forward. “Is that light up there?”

“Where?” Martinez asked.

Jacob pointed. “See that speck of light about…I guess about a hundred yards to the right of that huge sycamore?”

Though his night vision wasn’t perfect, Decker could discern faint illumination. He wasn’t sure if it was light or possibly an animal with reflective eyes, shooting back beams in the darkness. “Maybe there’s something.”

“Y’all talking about the light over to the right and up?”

“Exactly,” Jacob said.

“About two o’clock,” Martinez said. “I see it. What do you want to do, Loo?”

Decker said, “I want to go back before—”

Suddenly, the dim light grew stronger and wider. There was no time to think…barely enough time to react. Decker threw himself atop his stepson, sending both of them belly-first onto the ground. Martinez, also a Nam vet, pulled Webster down as his own stomach hit the dirt. The bullets came by in a steady stream—thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack—whizzing past them over their heads. Remaining on his stomach, Decker dragged Jacob into the brush, keeping both of them horizontal as he moved.

Some things you never forget.