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carried Joana out the window into the night, and was gone.
    It was the last time Seth or anyone else ever saw his sister.
    The next four years were spent dealing with the police, missing persons experts, the FBI. Seth met with more councilors and therapists than he could count. He was the only one who had seen the man enter the house, which made his description gospel for a long while, but as the years went by the experts began to insinuate he’d seen things differently. “All this talk of bug legs and arms is a dissociative mechanism, a way to make sense of the nightmare,” one therapist had told his parents. “By turning the kidnapper into some kind of magical demon, it helps him rationalize his shock. It’s common in small children who suffer the intrusion of a stranger, and pretty prevalent in sexual abuse cases. Unfortunately he has become so accustomed to seeing this demon in his head that he may not actually be describing the man accurately for police. We need him to remember what the man really looked like if we’re going to ever catch him.”
    In the end the police and FBI had never found a credible suspect. All Seth’s parents could do was ask him why. Why didn’t he scream? Why didn’t he run or make a noise? Why had it taken him a whole hour to get out of bed and come crying into their room? Why why why!
    “Still not going to the party,” Connor said. He slipped out through the opening between the pallets and pushed through the trees until he got to the edge of the hill that looked down across Farmers Road and into the park. As he’d suspected, a soccer game was taking place in the closest field. From the way the players were all running in various directions, completely missing the ball, and even standing still trying to catch butterflies, it was clearly the pee wee league. Beyond the far field he could see the grassy area people picnicked on, but it was too far away to really see anyone’s face. He scanned it nevertheless, looking for a sign of—
    There! He was sure he could see Nicole and Amanita laying out on big, white towels. Of course it could be anyone, but he wanted to think it was them. He sure did hope Nicole showed up tonight. Especially now that he told Seth he wasn’t going to the party it would be the only way to see her.
    He sat on the hill and looked out over the town, followed the line of small mountains that ran around it on three sides. From this height he could see the Jefferson Bridge into Victorville, could see the rock walls of the Jefferson River ravine—now nothing but a dried up creek bed full of empty beer cans and old tires. He could see most of the town as well; the high school he’d be attending in two days, the public library, the 7-Eleven at the top of Draper Road, the pizza place his folks ordered from every Wednesday night, the garage Dad said ripped everybody off, the Dennys where the high school kids hung out and ordered coffee, the used bookstore where he’d discovered George R.R. Martin just last summer and, in the distance, the shopping mall.
    If he squinted just right he could make out his street, but the trees that ran down it pretty much blocked out the view of the houses. Still, he knew whereabouts his house should be. He could look two streets over and see Nicole’s street. She’d lived so close to him for so long but they still didn’t know much about each other outside of school. He knew she was a brain, she knew he played sports, end of story.
    Heavy footsteps alerted him to Seth’s approach. The boy sat down, crossed his legs Indian style, and looked out over the town as well. “Sorry about that back there.”
    “About getting your pansy ass kicked by Germans? Forget it. You suck at games, what can you do?”
    “You know what I mean.” Seth held up the PSP. “Here, wanna play? You did steal the batteries after all. Your game is still saved on the memory card.”
    “Nah, it’s okay. I played so much yesterday I dreamed I was hiding in