Ford tried to keep his wheezing inside but his lungs wouldn't hold it in. Bad enough Lee had to half carry Fiddleford, he didn't want his brother feeling sorry for him when he couldn't help. Fiddleford needed it more anyway, he was sorta kinda there upstairs but not totally back yet. Kept crying about a headache and eyes everywhere. Legs looked fine, but couldn't walk a roadside line right if his life depended on it.

Which it kinda did. All their lives were looking to depend on it fast. The sky had darkened considerably in the last hour, and a chill crawled a clammy path up Ford's back. He couldn't explain it, but something was watching him. He knew it like he knew he was watching Lee from behind, struggling to keep Fiddle upright. Something was watching him, too. And somehow, it was a lot scarier than a shapeshifter because it felt patient.

Something knew exactly where they were and it was just waiting. What for? Ford didn't know and he didn't want to find out. What he wanted was to get them all back to the shack, sleep the night, and be by the bus stop first thing tomorrow. If the bus didn't come, he'd swallow his pride and call Ma Pines. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

Dark and darker still. Lee had said they weren't gonna die and Lee never lied to him. But his arm hurt and he was cold and hungry and so scared he couldn't think straight. Lee needed him to think a way out, and he couldn't. There wasn't a way out. After the sun had gone down, they'd probably stopped going straight North and walked themselves in another direction. Any second now they'd pass something they'd passed before and Ford would lose his mind-

Compass! Compass, of course! Ford stopped and slung his pack off, biting off a cry. "Lee, hold up. Need to find my compass, get us outta here."

"Knew you'd think'a something!" Lee shifted Fiddle's arm over his neck.

Shuffling past comic books and mashed up peanut butter jelly breadlumps, Ford's fingers snagged up the cold metal circle he was looking for. "Got it. Shine yer flasher over here." He held it up in his uninjured hand, waiting for his brother's flashlight to illuminate their route home.

It was a cheap prize from a Sugarblasters cereal box. He'd made Ford eat out all the cereal they had three times so he could mail in for it. But even so, it hadn't failed once after Ford recalibrated it the first time.

But now the needle spun in circles, first pointing dead ahead then swinging ninety degrees before doubling back and pointing behind. It jumped to every point like a lost hound, and Ford's good hand shook.

"Lee. Compass gotta be broke. Won't point true."

Ford watched his brother's face fall down, then pick itself back up in a tight smile. "S'okay, Poindexter. Keep thinkin'. We'll jus' keep on, yeah? Gotta be a way out or a safe spot ta spend the night soon. Pro'lly gotta find a place. Can't run in the dark. Not with him an' you all banged up."

Fiddle rolled his head to the side and vomited a thin stream of bile. Ford swallowed back a sob. Fiddle was getting worse from the knock on his head. How was he going to explain to Mrs. Mcgucket they brought her son back scrambled?

"Okay Ford. Let's find a place."

Fiddle's hand lifted, limp-wristed, pointing vaguely to the right. Ford followed the direction of his finger, and in the beam of Lee's flashlight lay another cave opening.

"We came around again!" Lee groaned, dismayed.

"Nah!" Ford seized the flashlight, taking a few steps closer. "This'n has a coupl'a pine trees at the mouth. T'other one had nuttin growin' by it. Think we got a place til the sun come up." He paused. "But lemme check it. Don't wanna wake a bear."

"Or any other creepers," Lee muttered. "Think we're at our limit on weird today. Check it, but you holler if'n you see anythin'. An' don't you even try fightin' with that arm! Just run."

"Yes Ma," Ford muttered, willing steadiness into his voice. His shoes sank into a soft layer, and a quick sweep with the flashlight confirmed huge drifts of dead leaves so dried up they barely crunched under his shoe, disintegrating to powder right away. They didn't look thrown around or shuffled through. In fact, they looked like they'd been there a real long time. The cave stretched into a tunnel that ran back farther than his flashlight beam reached, and he couldn't be sure it was really clear 'till he'd really checked the whole thing.

" 'Ey Knucklehead. Gonna check a little more. Front's clear, but stick close."

"Don't go too far," Lee warned, dragging Fiddle in and setting him down against the damp stone wall. " 'Member, it's you an' Fiddle what's wanted here."

"Roger," Ford braced himself, following the tunnel further back. The walls leaked in spots, coloring darker streaks dripping down the stone walls that sent eerie shivers up his spine. The watching-feeling was awfully strong now, and he wondered if it wouldn't be better to find another cave.

The tunnel flared out quite suddenly, stretching tall and wide to embrace itself in a musty chamber. Several sweeps of the flashlight later, Ford satisfied himself this place hadn't been home sweet home anytime recently. "Hey, Knucklehead!" he called, his voice bouncing up the tunnel to his brother. "Got a good spot back here, get Fiddle!"

"Ten-six," came the echo-reply.

"Four," Ford sighed to himself. "Ten-four, Lee." He set down the pack and thumped to his rear, his arm throbbing in bitter protest at the sudden move. But it wasn't just his arm. It was his legs, his back, even his head. Sitting in a little nowhere cave in the middle of a freakshow forest, Ford hunched over, feeling six times his age. "If'n I ever get outta this, never gonna let myself get this lost 'gain."

"Still there, Poindexter?"

The voice echoed closer, and Ford sat up a little straighter, waving the flashlight around. "Still here. Let's setup camp 'till mornin'. Then we can figure out where we are with the sun. Leastways that's still normal. I hope."

"Sure it is. Sun don't change." Lee dumped Fiddleford next to Ford, then thumped to the ground in front of them.

Ford leaned forward, eyes wide. Fiddle's face was pale, and little sweat beads had popped out all over his face. "Lee, he don't look so good."

"You don't look so good neither," Lee shot back, but his voice was shaky.

"What're we gonna do?"

"Nothin'. Nothin' we can do. Sleep, run like heck in the mornin'." Lee grabbed the flashlight, glancing around their gloomish surroundings. "You're right, Ford. We gotta get outta here. Sooner the bett-" He cut off, his eyes going wide and round as they drifted up over Ford's head.

Ford shut his eyes. Only bad things happened in the movies when someone looked past you like that. Something big and ugly and hungry was behind him, and it was going to gobble him up in one bite. Or maybe lots of little bites to make it last longer.

"Lee. You gotta see this."

His back was to a wall. There couldn't be anything behind him, unless it was up higher. Prying his eyes open, he craned his neck sideways and up to look up the wall.

A crude painting stretched up and across the wall. Lots of little stick people bowing in a circle to a pyramid in the center. Two sticklike arms stuck out from the sides, and in the middle was a big round circle, staring out like a burning flame.

"Lee," he said slowly, "What was it in Fiddles dreams he was shakin' over?"

"Eye," Lee responded real quietlike. "Eye in a brick wall."

"Does that look like an eye in a brick wall?"

"Myep."

"Lee."

"Mhmm?"

"Think we should go."

"Think yer right." Lee grabbed the pack and reached for Fiddle.

Fiddle's eyes snapped open, a sickening grin stretching his face clownishly wide. "What's your hurry, boys? You came all this way to see me. It would be rude to run out so soon. How about a nap first?"

Fiddle's fingers snapped, and the last thing Ford saw was Lee pitching forward facefirst, eyes shut before he hit the ground.