s never normal, "

t bein' takin', they're

find a

choolhouse with Mrs. Graham an' a few townsfolk keepin' gu

plan, " La

ildren are kept together an' safe, the hunters are going to go out

to go with them,

e need you. Children need you. At the rate we're goi

howled, argumentatively. "Ther

u to make

ed. "But...but

he forest...an' short of burnin' it down to the ground, we don't know what else to do. Stra

" Larson interrup

aw a few times. Lars

ur sword, and we'll go to the

rson's jaw was smaller, and he was a pint sized duckling by comparison, but the ey

cause one day you or someone you love will need help, and you'

to Thatcher and

ouse. Even before arriving, they noticed the light shining through the school's windows.

" Largo told

e almost two dozen ranging in ages from infants to perhaps thirteen. The oldest child who had disappeared was only nine, but no one wa

" a boy

him. They glanced at the other kids and the few older adults. Some of the women had apparentl

ed, " Michael

son whispered.

older, " th

His clothes looked like they had belonged

here's no reason to fret. To keep our minds busy,

. It didn't really matter. While Mrs. Graham haphazardly started teaching, most of the boys tried to listen to the other adults. Standing by the back wall,

'em ta' stone, "

e, " Mr. Thatcher argued.

ed off. The slow progression of time was grueling. Larson was antsy, but he was also tired. He rifled th

, " he asked with

d up at her, and she smiled, providing that safe feeling. "It's abo

son asked. "Li

, " Mrs. Graham

read it

wooden chair and sat facing them to read the story. It had a slow beginning about the history of an evil

d. It was unknown to him, but somehow reeked of home, of sweetness. It was something like a woman's voice, but there were no words spoken. The sound