The boy’s breathing was heavy. He was panting. Like he was Brae. Henry let go of his shoulder and sank back onto the ground.
Not here.
Not here.
Not here.
How many places could be unsafe? For Henry it was the mountain. For this kid it was here. New Orleans. Louisiana.
Henry thought something then.
What if the place came with you?
What if no matter where you went, it followed you?
What if the mountain had followed him?
Or worse, what if it was inside him?