there might return.
Then the distant rumble of engines drifted through the trees.
Wade’s face changed.
Elsie heard it too.
“Can you walk?” she asked.
“Not well.”
“Then walk badly. We have to move.”
He looked at her.
“You’re bossy.”
Elsie pulled her backpack onto one shoulder.
“Grandpa said bossy is what people call you when you know what to do.”
For the first time, Wade almost smiled.
Hiding in the Hollow
Elsie guided him through the woods one careful step at a time. The stray dog followed close
