Astrid heard her story unfolding in her head. Fog had fingered its way between the trees and intertwined in the dense, thorny underbrush beside the path. For a moment it made her think of the fairy tale where the misty hedge encircles the castle imprisoning the sleeping princess-the girl who is oblivious to all the princes who’ve failed to find her; the princes whose bodies hang in the deep, secret heart of the thicket.
She paused to look at a body lying face-down in a stream about twenty feet to her left.
Brad stopped walking. Stood beside her.
He’d suggested that they find the location first, then return to the car to get everything they needed, rather than “dragging ’em through the woods.”
It might have been a waste of time, but Astrid had put up with the idea. Honestly, at this point she was thinking more about the news she was going to share with him than about the young man they’d come here to bury.
The uncomfortable odor of death drifted through the forest.
Brad consulted his map. “Okay. I’m thinking we head west about two hundred yards or so. No class is scheduled to visit that area until Monday.”
“How do you know that?”
“Research,” he said simply.
“Let me see that.”
He handed her the map, and she tipped her flashlight beam across it. He stood beside her. “No,” she said, “we should just do it here.”
“I was thinking it might be better over-”
“No.”
After a moment. “All right.”
“Let’s go get the-”
The deep, sharp prick on the side of her neck startled her; shocked her, made her jerk backward. “What the-” Her hand flew instinctively to her neck, found the needle still protruding from it. She would have yanked it out, but it was embedded deeply and she was already feeling dizzy.
Her hands dropped to her sides.
Brad had his arms out to catch her. “Easy.” She was aware, but somehow unaware, of the map and flashlight she’d been holding spinning to the ground. She must have let go of them. Must have… Now her legs were giving way and Brad was supporting her. “Don’t fight it, Astrid,” he said. “Don’t worry, it’s what we used on the guard the other night, what I used on Mollie. It won’t kill you.” “What are you
…” The words felt thick and raw in her mouth. He was lowering her to the ground. “Shh. Stay calm. All will be well.” She was on her back now and he was removing the needle from her neck. “Just relax,” she heard him say, or thought she did. Nothing was certain anymore. Time rippled forward and backward. She moved her mouth, tried to speak, but nothing came out. A fairy tale. The thick fog seemed to enter her, become part of her. And the last thing she saw before the world disappeared was her lover brushing a stray tendril of hair from her face, kneeling beside her in the veiled moonlight, telling her softly, softly, to go to sleep.