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straggled out of the woods, one by one, most carrying shotguns, two bearing torches. This time I glanced at my watch and confirmed my suspicions; it was 7:45. The fog had now completely choked out what little daylight there was left. |
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The men broke up into several small groups. Here and there fragments of conversation could be detected. For the most part, comments were subdued and low-key. There was an awareness that Harlan himself still hadn't emerged from the shadowy woods, and comments began to pass from one group to another. No one could recall the last time they had seen him. |
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Madden and Kendall huddled near the rear of Kramer's truck, nervously stealing glances back at the woods to the west. |
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I checked my watch again; it was nearing 8:20. Darkness rapidly enveloped us. I looked back at Madden, who was headed toward me. The many folds of his contoured face had all collapsed into one massive, scowling frown. "Harlan shoulda' been here by now," he grunted. |
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The men had already started gravitating toward us. They were growing restless. Kendall began circulating among them. Flashlights and lanterns emerged. The colorless nothingness of the persistent fog caught the reflection of the still-sputtering flames and bounced them back at us in an eerie pattern of unreal color. |
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