From the moment he found out about Tee’s disappearance, Jake hadn’t allowed a second of doubt, a tinge of uncertainty into his mind. Restrained emotions filled him now, coating each sucking step, each hunched motion. Bleakness, despair settled into every nook and cranny, the tic under his eye, an ache low in his belly, the jumping pulse at his throat. Nerves and muscles hitherto unknown flared a lighthouse beacon, tingling in preparation; his body crouched for the ultimate blow, a mortal delivery. Life without Tee. Not a tree dotted the field’s expanse, and the wind howled a mournful cry, whistling its grief, hammering misery into every pore until the effort of lifting a foot echoed the contemplation of life without Tee. Empty. Joyless. They reached the hut in less than ten minutes, and Jake realized he’d pinned everything on this small structure, this roof-caving-in woodsman’s pile of logs. “Crap,” Alex muttered. “This thing’s going to fall apart if we so much as touch it.”
