They traveled until just before nightfall, Jacob’s eyes tired and blurry as he found a suitable spot to pull over and cut the engine. Once stopped, Sara gave the boy a rag and some water to clean himself, and Jacob wasted no time before checking out the items in the bed of the pickup. The small space had been wedged full, and Jacob found several boxes of dried and canned foodstuffs, a large tent, a working propane stove, a few gallons of fresh water, several boxes of 180-grain cartridges, and a Springfield 30.06 bolt-action rifle, which he immediately slung over his shoulder.

While most of the supplies had an obvious utility, Jacob discovered several things he had not expected. Inside one large box, he found some cans of Drano, a few gallons of commercial-grade antifreeze, and a large container full of what smelled like cooking grease. He could not fathom any reason anyone would need such items, and he was about to pull them out and leave them on the side of the road when he suddenly turned and saw the look on Sara’s face.

“What’s wrong now?”

The color looked as if it had been drained completely out of the girl’s face, her skin momentarily as pale as snow.

“It’s the boy. You have to come see.”

Jacob followed his daughter around the other side of the truck but had to stop short as he finally set eyes on the boy. He was frighteningly thin, that much was certain, and as Jacob stepped closer, the man let out a gasp.

“Jesus Christ.”

A line of what looked like fresh burns was tracked up the inside of one arm, and deep, red lashes ran across the top of his back—his entire body was bruised and scarred. Sara walked back over to her father and whispered, keeping her voice down so that the boy could not overhear.

“Why would anyone do that to him? Why would they hurt him like that?”

Jacob knew that he would never win Father of the Year, but even he could only shake his head and put his hand on Sara’s shoulder as he spoke.

“I don’t know, Sara. I honestly don’t know.”

They drove for the next few days without incident, staying off the main roads as much as possible, the boy silent the entire time. Despite their best efforts, they had been able to find only a small amount of viable fuel, and they eventually coasted to a stop behind an old strip mall, the tank finally empty. There were still several hours of light left in the day, and they stepped out of the truck and stretched their legs, the boy barely able to open his eyes in the bright sunlight. He had not spoken a single word the entire trip, and Sara was beginning to understand that something was very different about the boy, a peculiar hollowness hiding behind his blue eyes. She wanted so badly to reach out and hug him, to reassure him that everything would be all right, but Jacob took her by the arm and walked her a few yards away from the truck. His voice was well above a whisper.

“We’re out of gas. You know what that means, right?”

“Yes. I know. But you don’t have to say it so loudly. He doesn’t have to know what is going to happen right now. And I still don’t see why he can’t just come with us.”

“A deal is a deal. You agreed. He stays with us only as far as the truck goes. We cannot take him with us from here. I will not sacrifice our lives for that boy. We barely have enough to eat and drink as it is.”

“Please. I’ll share my food and water with him. It won’t cost you a thing.”

“No, Sara. Look at him. He is too weak to travel with us. He will slow us down. You know that. We will leave him whatever supplies we cannot carry with us. There should be enough food and water left over to give him some time to figure things out.”

Sara knew that she was not going to get her way this time, but the thought of leaving the boy on his own was unacceptable.

“There has to be a way. Can we at least wait until tomorrow morning?”

Jacob stared at his daughter for a long time. He sighed.

“OK, Sara. He can stay with us until we leave in the morning, but that’s it. After that, he is on his own.”

They camped beside the truck that night, Jacob separating out the items they planned to take with them the next day by the light of a small fire. While Jacob worked, Sara sat down next to the boy and tried to get him to communicate, but he refused to meet her gaze or speak a single word. After nearly an hour, she gave up on asking him questions, and instead she began to tell him about herself, about her favorite foods, the pet snake she once had, the skiing trip to the mountains she would take each year with her best friend’s family. For the first time, it seemed that the boy was paying attention, and as the flames from the campfire began to die down, Sara suddenly broke down, fighting back the tears that were welling in her eyes.

“I don’t know if you understand me or not, but the truck is out of gas, and tomorrow we have to start walking. I wish you could come with us, but we have a long way to go, and my father says we can’t take you along. I’m so sorry.”

The boy looked at her blankly, and Sara put her face in her hands and gave up trying to make him understand. She sat there with her face buried for another minute before she finally looked up and noticed that the boy had stood up and walked over to the bed of the pickup. Sara blinked away her tears and watched with curiosity as the boy returned with a large metal bucket and the container of used cooking oil. He set the items down and went back to the truck, this time returning with another smaller bucket, a funnel, a can of crystallized Drano, and a bottle of antifreeze. Jacob had been collecting wood to throw on the fire, but he soon stopped and sat down beside Sara.

“What the hell is that kid doing? What did you say to him?”

Sara put her palms up.

“I don’t really know. I just told him that we had to leave tomorrow.”

Jacob rubbed at his beard.

“He is up to something, that is for sure.”

Together, they watched as the boy quietly went to work arranging and re-arranging the items he had collected from the truck. For more than a minute, he moved the items in different formations until he seemed pleased, finally setting the bucket down in the center of the fire and filling it with the cooking oil. Jacob walked over to the boy, watching with keen interest as he carefully measured out a portion of antifreeze and slowly poured it into the empty, smaller bucket. Next, the boy took the can of Drano and poured in a small amount of the crystals, stirring the mixture quickly as Jacob looked over at Sara and shrugged in confusion. After another few minutes, the oil began to boil, and the boy pulled the bucket off the fire and left it to cool, once again silent as he worked.

Still watching the boy, Jacob walked back over to Sara and sat down beside her, the girl whispering quietly in his ear.

“I wonder what he’s doing?”

Jacob smirked and blew air through his nose.

“I have no idea what it is, and I doubt that he does, either. Regardless, it’s getting late. We—meaning you and I—have a lot of ground to cover tomorrow.”

Sara knew exactly what he meant, and she could not help herself looking over at the boy, his white-blond hair reflecting orange in the firelight. Jacob stepped in front of her and pointed right at her face.

“Remember the deal, Sara.”

Sara squinted and flipped her hair.

“I remember the deal just fine. The problem is that the deal sucks.”

Jacob allowed himself a small smile, his face smug.

“Either way, a deal is a deal. The boy stays with the truck. I am going to bed; you should get some sleep, too. We’ll leave at dawn. Just me and you. Goodnight, Sara.”

Sara pursed her lips together, deciding not to tell her father what kind of night she hoped he would have. She walked over to the boy and sat down next to him beside the fire. He was busy stirring the mixture in the smaller bucket, his eyes red and tearing from the fumes. Sara smiled, her voice soft.

“Goodnight, boy. Good luck doing whatever it is that you’re doing. I will see you in the morning to say goodbye, OK? Sweet dreams.”

The boy did not bother to look up. He added more Drano to the mixture and just went on stirring. Sara could only shake her head and walk away.

She slept fitfully that night, her dreams of lost boys, gunshots, and snarling dogs. She awoke a few minutes before dawn to find the boy sitting at the end of her bedroll, his blue eyes bloodshot and tired. She sat straight up in surprise and cleared her throat.

“Um, hi there. Good morning.”

To her surprise, the boy suddenly smiled. Sara’s mouth fell open. She had not seen the boy smile before, and for a moment, she was not sure if she was still dreaming. She smiled back. He reached out for her hand. It was greasy and black with soot. She took it. She could smell the smoke on his clothes. She knew right then that she was definitely not dreaming, but she stood up and followed him as if she were, not sure exactly what he wanted or where they were going.

The boy let her hand go after only a few steps, and he slowly walked over to the truck, waving for her to follow. Sara rubbed her eyes and yawned. She walked over and noticed that the door to the fuel tank was open, a large, plastic funnel stuffed into the hole. Sara reached out to touch the funnel when the boy appeared beside her holding the metal bucket, the smell of chemicals heavy in the air. Sara backed up and stared in confusion as the boy motioned for her to hold the funnel. It took her a moment to understand what he wanted, and she had to ask to make certain.

“You want me to hold the funnel, so you can pour that stuff in the gas tank?”

The boy nodded his head once, pointing to the bucket and then to the funnel. Sara got the message and shrugged.

“OK, I’ll help you. The tank’s empty anyway. It’s not like we really have anything to lose, right?”

Sara steadied the funnel while the boy lifted the bucket and slowly poured the mixture into the tank, the fumes from the concoction making her eyes burn. Within a few minutes, they had emptied the entire bucket, and the boy stepped back and stared at the girl. He smiled again. Sara knew what he wanted, and she shook her head.

“Are you sure it’s not going to explode when I turn the key?”

The boy nodded and gave her a thumbs-up. Sara laughed and opened the driver’s-side door. She was more than willing to humor the boy as long as he kept smiling.

“Well, the keys are still in the ignition. If it starts, maybe we can take it for a joyride before my father wakes up.”

Sara sat down in the driver’s seat with a smile, and she was about to turn the key when the boy suddenly stepped away from the open door. Sara leaned out the door and looked up to see her father marching straight at them, his face contorted and red.

“What the hell are you doing, Sara? You are supposed to be getting ready to go. Get the hell out of the truck.”

He looked over at the boy and then down at the empty bucket.

“What happened to that crap he was mixing up last night? I can smell it right now.”

Sara stepped out of the truck and stood next to the boy.

“We poured it into the gas tank.”

Jacob looked at her with unrestrained displeasure.

“Why the hell would you do that? Are you trying to make the damn truck explode?”

“No. I don’t really know. He asked me to help, so I did.”

“He asked you to help him? He actually spoke to you? I find that very hard to believe, Sara.”

“Well, no, not really. He just pointed, and I knew what he wanted me to do.”

Jacob stood and looked at the boy as he considered what Sara had told him, finally turning away and lifting the wagon out of the bed of the truck.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. Get your things together and say goodbye if you want. We leave in five minutes.”

Sara could not bring herself to look into the boy’s eyes until she had shoved the last few items into her pack and swung it up and over her shoulders. Her father’s voice echoed from somewhere behind her.

“Let’s go, Sara. We need to get moving. Say your goodbyes.”

The boy was still standing beside the truck, and she approached slowly, reaching her hand out to his shoulder as she spoke.

“I’m so sorry. I wish you could come with us, but my father says no. Please forgive me.”

The boy looked up at her with his huge eyes, and she could not help but look away to save herself from crying. Although they had left the boy with several days’ worth of supplies, the girl emptied her backpack of nearly all her food and water and set it on ground. She waited for a second to gather her composure before she could speak.

“Please take this. It’s not much, but it’s something.”

The boy nodded, and Sara let out long sigh.

“Goodbye. I will miss you very much. Good luck, and I promise I won’t forget you, even though I guess I’ll never know your name.”

Sara bent down and kissed him on the forehead, but as she turned to walk away, she heard the slightest sound whisper from the boy’s lips. Sara’s heart seemed to leap inside her chest, and she leaned in and looked into the boy’s crystal-blue eyes.

“What did you just say? Was it your name? It’s OK. You can tell me. You can tell me anything.”

The boy looked down at his feet. She waited another few seconds, and then she asked him again, her voice calm and soft.

“What is your name? Please tell me your name.”

Sara put her hand on his shoulder, and finally the boy lifted his chin and leaned into her ear, his voice barely registering as a whisper.

“M-M-Mason. M-my name is Mason.”

Sara threw her arms around the boy and yelled out in excitement.

“Oh my god! Your name is Mason?”

The boy smiled and nodded his head. Sara looked over at her father and yelled again.

“His name is Mason! Did you hear that? His name is Mason!”

Jacob walked over with a frown on his face, pacing slowly as Sara took the boy’s hands and jumped up and down.

“I knew you could talk. I just knew it.”

The boy nodded, and she was sure that he was about to say something more when Jacob stepped over and grabbed her by the arm.

“I don’t care if he can say one word or a thousand. You said your goodbyes. Now it is time to go.”

Sara looked up at her father, the anger in her eyes impossible to ignore. She held tightly to the boy’s hand as she spoke.

“No. I changed my mind. I’m not leaving him. You can go on your own. I’m not leaving him—I mean, Mason—behind.”

Jacob squeezed Sara’s arm in anger, and he twisted her around to face him, spit flying out of his mouth as he shouted.

“You are coming with me right now, even if I have to drag you all the way to Mexico! Let go of that boy and come on!”

Sara tried to twist free, but her father only tightened his grip. She screamed up at him.

“Why are you doing this? Let go of me! I hate you!”

Jacob could no longer control his rage, and he grabbed his daughter with both hands and threw her to the cement. He pulled his belt free and doubled it over in his hands.

“It is about time you learned who is the boss around here, Sara. Maybe a few lessons with my belt will finally do the job.”

Jacob raised his arm to strike the girl, but before he could follow through with his threat, he was startled as the engine of the truck suddenly came roaring to life directly behind him, a plume of black smoke spewing from the exhaust. Jacob nearly dropped the belt, and he spun around to see Mason staring at him from the driver’s seat. The boy revved the engine one time, loudly, and Sara ran over to the truck. She looked down at the fuel gauge.

“Mason, you did it! The tank is a quarter full! I can’t believe it. You did it.”

Jacob was right behind her, and he pushed his way into the cab and checked the gauge himself, tapping it several times before standing up and shaking his head. Sara turned around and faced Jacob with a huge smile, both unable and unwilling to hide the pleasure written on her face. Jacob looked down at the boy.

“That mixture you made last night, with the cooking oil, the antifreeze, and the Drano. That is what you put in the tank, right?”

Mason nodded.

“And the truck will run on that? Same as diesel?”

Mason nodded again.

“Do you think you can find more of what you need to make it?”

The boy nodded, and Jacob looked over at Sara. He knew exactly what she was going to say, and the girl turned to him and smirked.

“A deal’s a deal. The truck is ready to go, and wherever it goes, Mason goes too. Isn’t that right, Jacob?”

He was not sure how Sara had been able to twist his first name into nothing less than a patent insult, but Jacob knew that he had been beat, and he had no more stomach for the fight. With a long sigh, he took off his backpack and dropped it in the back of the truck. He looked over at his daughter.

“Yes, that is right, Sara. A deal is a deal. Now help me get this wagon back in the truck, and let’s get moving. We have a long way to go, and we have wasted enough fuel standing here already.”

Sara stepped over to the boy and kissed him on the cheek.

“Just like I told you, Mason. If we stick together, everything is going to be all right. I promise.”