Never Tell Them, N.L. Hinkens [unputdownable books txt] 📗

He set off at a jog in the direction he thought he’d come from but was soon forced to slow to a walk. The brush was too thick and the terrain too treacherous to risk a spill with Henry in his arms. He considered abandoning his pack and putting Henry on his back, but the child was clinging to him like a limpet, and he feared peeling him off his chest might only traumatize him further. Instead, he focused all his efforts on putting as much distance as possible between themselves and the cabin.

Fifteen minutes in, Ray was feeling the strain of his load. After checking over his shoulder to make sure they weren’t being followed, he searched for a hollow to rest in. Sinking down on a lichen-covered log, he pulled out his Hydro Flask and offered Henry a swig of water. The child stood there staring at him with a bewildered look on his face, a tell-tale tremble revving up in his bottom lip.

“It’s okay, buddy,” Ray soothed. “I know you’re scared, but everything’s going to be all right.”

He dug a granola bar out of his pack and held it out to Henry. After a moment’s hesitation, he grabbed it and clutched it in his fist like a lollipop.

Ray frowned as he screwed the cap back on his flask. Was Henry waiting on permission to eat or something? “Go ahead,” he said, smiling encouragingly at him. “You can eat it.”

A confused expression flitted across Henry’s face as he looked more closely at the granola bar in his fist.

It suddenly dawned on Ray that he might need help opening it. “Here, let me get that for you.” He reached out his hand, but Henry let out a piercing wail and jerked the bar away.

“Shhhh!” Ray said, casting a nervous glance around them. He rooted around in his pack for another granola bar and tore it open, then handed it to Henry. He watched in shock as the child gobbled it down in seconds, then held out the other one for Ray to open. Watching him scarf it down just as quickly as the first one, Ray was sobered by the thought that Henry might have been deprived of food. He was thin, but Ray hadn’t noticed just how malnourished he was until now—his oversized pants hiding the dire reality of the situation. Anger bubbled up inside him. How could Tom of all people do this to a child? Hadn’t they suffered enough themselves to know better?

As soon as Henry had satisfied his hunger, Ray persuaded him to drink a little water before setting off again. His hopes began to surge that they were heading in the right direction when they came to a stream and he recognized the spot he’d dropped his GPS at earlier. Henry appeared to be fascinated by the water, peering down at it from Ray’s arms, and craning his neck to look back at it after they crossed over. It struck Ray as odd. Surely, he must have seen streams before. It seemed to fit Ray’s theory that Tom left the boy alone in the cabin when he went out—a prisoner in his loft bed. His stomach knotted at the disturbing thought.

At long last, the Deep Creek Campground parking lot came into view. Ray almost collapsed with relief when he spotted his truck parked where he’d left it. He jogged toward it and unlocked the doors, exhaustion hitting him as the adrenalin oozed from his veins. Henry began to protest the minute he set him in the back seat and attempted to strap him in.

”All right,” Ray said, too weary to argue with him. “You can sit next to me up front. But you can’t sit in my lap. I have to drive.” He buckled Henry in as best he could, resorting to slipping the top half of the seatbelt behind him to avoid it cutting uncomfortably across his throat. When he turned the key in the ignition, Henry tensed, his eyes widening.

“Nothing to be scared of,” Ray promised, winking at him. “This will be fun.”

He pulled out of the parking lot and began the bumpy ride along the dirt track back down to the main road. As he drove, he thought about his next move. He should probably go straight to the authorities, but he questioned if that was the wisest course of action. Naturally, they would dispatch cops to the cabin to question Tom. There was no telling how he would react. He might pull a gun on them too. And what if he told them he wanted to file assault charges against Ray? They could both end up in jail. Then who would be there for Henry? With his mother out of the picture, he’d be dumped into the system, with no guarantee he wouldn’t go from one form of abuse to the next.

By the time they reached the outskirts of Booneville, Ray had formulated a plan. Pick up some clothes for Henry, book a motel room, and get him cleaned up. They could spend the night in anonymity while he thought things through. He wouldn’t make any rash decisions about reporting Tom to the authorities. His head was still spinning from everything that had happened. If it weren’t for the ragged child seated next to him, he’d be tempted to think it had all been a crazy nightmare.

He didn’t dare take Henry to his mother’s place in case any of the neighbors spotted him, and he couldn’t go back to the hotel he’d stayed in last night—there was no way he could sneak him through the lobby in his current condition. He drove slowly down Main Street, eying the stores on either side: Harmon Feed & Supply, The Busy Bean coffee shop, Second Chance thrift store, a Chevron station, a post office, Smith & Buchanan law offices, Delaney Engineering, The Buffalo Gal restaurant, Delia’s Gift Shop, Main Street Mini Mart. Maybe they didn’t have a children’s