he said.“What?” I asked, stalling.“Pull down your goddamn pants or I’ll slit your fuckin’ throat,” he said.His voice was gravelly, as if he had been gargling with glass, and his breath smelled almost as bad as his body. He was heavy and strong, his weight and strength pinning me to the damp ground, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t get free.Was Jensen the rapist? I tried to recall if any rapes had occurred since he escaped. I couldn’t be certain, but I didn’t think any had.“You wanna die?”“Why are you doing this?” I asked.“Do what I tell you or I’ll kill you,” he said.The knife was large and sharp, and I wondered where he got it. Had he taken it from an empty camp or houseboat, or had he killed for it? Did it belong to Turtle or the man who was lynched? Or had he used it to get them to do what he wanted? “I talked to your mom,” I said. “I told her I’d help you come in without getting hurt.”I could feel his body react to what I was saying. He relaxed slightly and paused a moment.“She’s worried about you,”
