Lost in the Never Woods(43)

Peter looked up and watched her for a moment. She could see him thinking. Physically, he was so young, even if he was growing older. But his intense eyes felt like they held the age of the galaxies swirling behind them. He was a star locked inside a boy’s body.

Peter shrugged again. “Nothing good.” He tried to conjure up a smile, but it was nothing compared to its brilliance when he really meant it. “So we can’t let that happen.”

Wendy pressed her fingers to her mouth and tried to think.

“We need to call the police. We need their help,” Wendy finally said. She couldn’t believe she was even considering it, but where else could they turn for help?

Peter arched an eyebrow, shaking his head. “Wendy, you barely believe me, do you really think a bunch of grown-ups are going to believe a word of this?” he asked. “They’ll lock me up and throw away the key!” He scowled. She had hit a nerve. “They can’t help us.”

“Then we need to at least tell them about Alex!” Wendy pulled her phone out of her back pocket. Her mind raced, thoughts tumbling over one another. She needed to do something. She needed to come up with some immediate solutions to these daunting and insurmountable tasks.

“They need to know he’s missing—his parents need to know! At least then people can be on the lookout for him,” she insisted. Wendy paced back and forth, tightly gripping the phone. “I—I don’t know what I’ll say, how I know he’s gone missing,” she mused. “I can just make something up—”

Wendy’s cell phone lit up. An AMBER alert with Alex’s name filled the screen.

“Too late,” Wendy said. Peter leaned over to give it a look. “They already know.” Wendy snatched the remote from the counter and turned on the TV. Sure enough, it was on the news, too. Alex’s face smiled at her from the corner of the screen. In the center, Detective James stood in the middle of a street. Bright lights from news cameras lit up his face, causing him to squint.

“Mrs. Forestay witnessed Alex being taken from their backyard this evening, but didn’t get a good enough look at the abductor to provide a description,” Detective James said.

Guilt swarmed inside Wendy.

“I heard voices when I was in the woods,” Wendy said, turning back to Peter. “I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they were definitely kids. I couldn’t see them but it felt like they were right there, just out of sight.” Her skin crawled as she thought about the voices, the breathing, the footsteps. “That’s gotta be where it’s hiding.”

“That’s where I had tracked it to, when you found me in the road,” Peter said, walking to stand next to her. His shoulder lightly brushed against hers. “After what you saw, I think that’s a pretty safe bet.”

“Do the police know that?” Wendy wondered as she watched Detective James talk about a special hotline the police department had set up for anyone who had any information about the missing children. “Should we tell them?” she asked, looking up at Peter.

His jaw was tight. “Grown-ups can be slow at figuring stuff out,” Peter said flatly. There was that disdainful tone that always crept into his voice when he talked about adults. “But they’re bound to put it together sooner or later.”

Wendy chewed on her bottom lip. She felt compelled to call the police about the woods, but how would she explain herself? The detectives were already looking at her for answers—they suspected her of lying or holding back something. That was why they showed up at her house to begin with. If she talked to them and they started investigating her more, if they started searching the woods, would they find Peter? And how would they explain him and his connection to all of this?

“They’re going to search the woods,” Wendy said, because of course they would. “They’ll find the hunting shack you’re staying in. They could find you, Peter.”

Peter, who had been scuffing the toe of his shoe on the floor, froze. Apparently he hadn’t considered that, either. He tipped his head back and let out a halfhearted laugh. “I guess we better hurry then,” he said, looking down at her with a sad grin.

Wendy pressed her hands against her abdomen. She felt like she was going to be sick.

In the living room, the view of Detective James changed on the television, catching her attention. It was a drawing of another missing person.

“Oh no,” Wendy groaned.

Detective James spoke: “We have also been alerted to another child who went missing from the hospital the day before yesterday. The boy was originally found unconscious on Williamsport Road but went missing shortly after being brought to the hospital for treatment. His name and whereabouts are unknown, but we have reason to believe he is connected to the string of local disappearances,” he went on.

Wendy’s eyes grew wide. Reason to believe he is connected to the string of local disappearances?

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked. He stepped closer, peering at her carefully. “You look like you’re going to barf.”

“If they think you have something to do with the missing kids,” Wendy said, the panic rising in her throat pushing the words out rapidly, “and they think you have something to do with what happened to me and my brothers, then that means that they think I have something to do with it, too!”