After a minute of listening to it wax and wane in the distance, Decker said, “They’re searching for us.” The sound of the helicopter faded, to the point where it was almost inaudible, but then gradually it grew louder. And louder. Until suddenly it was within a few hundred feet of them, sending gusts of wind whipping down through the trees. Mark could see portions of its black silhouette through the leaves but couldn’t make out any identifying marks. He wished he’d piled up more branches on top of the car. Then it was gone, off to circling in a new area. Until a cell phone started ringing. “Shut that thing off,” snapped Mark, thinking it was either Daria’s or Decker’s. “Not me, boss,” said Decker. “It’s not mine,” said Daria. Then she stared at Decker. “It’s Yaver’s. You forgot to turn it off.” “No. No, tell me you didn’t,” said Mark. “Fuck me.” “I told you. The signal can be triangulated.” Decker pulled out Yaver’s cell phone from his front pocket and shut it off.
