"Andrew!"

Shane yelled his son's name and waited for a response, but the night remained silent except for the sound of the trees swaying in the wind. He tried to stop himself from thinking about why Andrew was not responding, as he began once again to follow the small footprints along the grassy expanse between the car and the trees. With each step, he had to force himself not to think about what he might come across at any moment.

Andrew . . . Please. . . .

Internally, he was fighting not to panic completely. His heart was pounding hard against his constricted chest. But Andrew needed him to stay calm, to think. Somehow, his training won out, even if his control over his emotions was tenuous.

Andrew's footprints continued through the grass. Shane was nearing the trees, and he let loose a sigh of relief. So far, he had seen no signs of Andrew falling or any blood.

Still, the thought that Andrew had avoided being shot did not entirely allay Shane's fears. The skid marks on the road showing Kim's car had been attacked on its way to Brookville, not on the return, plus the condition of Mike's body, told Shane that the attack had occurred much earlier in the night. And Andrew's jacket was still in the car. How long had the boy been out in this freezing cold?

"Andrew!" he yelled again.

Shane stopped and waited again, praying for a response. Nothing.

He's okay, Shane told himself. He's got to be okay. Please let him be okay.

To forestall the panic, Shane forced himself to take a deep breath. Shining the light, he saw the footprints continue until they disappeared into a mass of damp, multicolored leaves that piled up just at the edge of the trees. Shane waved the flashlight around, looking for some sign of Andrew's passing.

He would have continued straight. Shane said that to himself as if it were a fact, but it was just as much a guess. The truth was he had no idea where Andrew had entered the woods, let alone what he had done once he reached the protection of the trees or how deep he had gone once inside.

Shoving aside some of the thick branches that blocked his path, Shane stepped through the wall of trees. The temperature seemed to drop even more inside and the wet cold chilled him despite the sweater and jacket he wore.

That just fed his worry as he searched for some signs of Andrew in the woods. The ground was covered with leaves and other debris that obscured any tracks. Shane flashed the light around, hoping to spot some broken branches or other evidence of the direction Andrew had gone once he reached the trees, but Shane saw nothing

He had to come here, Shane insisted silently. A little boy running would have gone straight into the woods. And then what? He tried to think. Come on. Come on. Where did he go?

Shane turned back to the treeline and tried to spot the car. Most likely, Andrew would have watched to see what was happening. But why didn't he stay near the edge of the woods? Why did he run from the car in the first place?

That question, Shane suspected he knew the answer to. Kim must have ordered Andrew to run. But why? What made her send Andrew fleeing, while she and Kayla remained behind.

"Stop it," Shane muttered. None of that mattered right now. Finding Andrew was all that counted. "Andrew!" he shouted once more. "Andrew, it's Daddy. It's okay. You can come out now."

There was a noise from behind him. Shane spun around. "An-"

"No, dude, it's just me." Steve had just stepped through a tangled mess of tree limbs, branches and dead leaves. "Roman's on his way." He waved his flashlight from side-to-side. "See anything?"

Shane shook his head. He aimed his flashlight beam on where he had entered the woods. "The footprints led to that spot, but I can't find anything in here. I have no clue which direction he went. And . . . and he's not responding when I call." Shane tried to stop himself from voicing his fears, but they came out anyway. "Steve . . . he's been out here for at least a couple of hours, and with no coat-"

"Stop it," Steve barked. "Just stop it, and don't think like that. We're going to find him. And then we're going to find Kayla and Kim." As determined as Steve sounded, Shane did not miss the underlying fear in his voice. Somehow it was comforting to Shane to know he was not the only one scared to death right now.

But Shane knew that he could not give into that fear. He had to keep his emotions under control. "You're right," he said. He pointed his flashlight in one direction. "Why don't you go that way? I'll go in the opposite direction and maybe we'll find a trail." As Steve started to move away, Shane added, "Just go slow. It might not be footprints, but broken branches. If you go too fast-"

"I might miss them," Steve said, cutting Shane off. "I'm not stupid."

Shane bit back his response. He knew Steve was trying to hold it together as much as he was, and the last thing he needed was to get into a fight with Steve. "Fine," was all he said, as he turned away from Steve and began moving slowly through the tangle of trees. He heard Steve head off in the other direction, but within a few minutes, everything was eerily quiet again. The entire forest seemed entirely silent and still.

He broke the silence by calling Andrew's name again, but there was no response. There also was no sign of Andrew's trail. The leaves on the ground would have obscured any footprints and Shane saw nothing else that suggested Andrew had come this way.

From elsewhere in the woods, Shane heard Steve shouting Andrew's name too. Shane waited, hoping he would hear if Steve found anything. But a few minutes of silence passed, dimming those hopes.

He shoved aside some tree branches, soldiered on through the darkness, and said a silent prayer. Please, God. . . please let him be okay. He took a few more steps before Steve's voice cut through the silence.

"Donovan!"

Shane spun around.

"Over here! I found something."

Not even sure where "over here" was, Shane began sprinting back in the direction from which he had come. He rushed through the woods, ignoring the branches that scratched at his face and the wet leaves that made every step treacherous.

"Where are you?" Shane called out.

"Here," Steve responded. "Follow my voice."

Shane did exactly that as Steve kept shouting. After several minutes of wending his way through the trees, Shane finally spotted the beam of Steve's flashlight. Shane followed the light until he found Steve.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, Shane asked, "What do you have?"

Steve aimed his light at a low-lying branch. Some dark cloth was hanging off its end. It looked like it had been torn from something.

Studying it under his flashlight beam, Shane tried to remember if Andrew had been wearing a navy shirt that morning. Maybe he had.

"Come on," Steve said, as he aimed his flashlight past the tree branch. Shane's gaze followed the light.

"There," he said, pointing at some broken branches. Finally, a trail. Again, he called out Andrew's name, but, again, there was no response.

Together, they followed the few signs of Andrew's path through the woods. Shane knew they were getting closer, but that only increased the fear that filled him. Please be okay.

Steve, who was a few feet in front, suddenly stopped still. "No," he said, his voice so low that Shane barely heard the word. But it was enough to cause Shane's heart to skip a beat. He moved past Steve and looked at where his flashlight was aimed.

Oh, God! No!