“Yeah,” Fat Thug said, “and if they got this far, there’d be a lot of activity.”
“Let’s try the other direction.”
“Wait a minute. I’ve got two bars of a signal on my cell phone, and he’s waiting for a call.”
“What’re you gonna do? Call him and say the fuckers got away? He’s not expecting to hear from us for another couple of hours.”
“Okay,” Fat Thug said, “let’s double back and check the road in the other direction.”
They retraced their route and, when the pavement turned to gravel, followed it all the way to a dead end high up on the mountain. “Well,” Skinny Thug said, “no sign of them this way either.”
“Let’s go back to the house and see if we can find a trail leading behind it,” Fat Thug said.
“Aren’t we gonna make that call?”
“Not until I’m sure we can’t find those little fuckers,” Fat Thug said.
Back at the little house, they walked around behind it and started to make their way through the trees. Ten minutes later, Fat Thug said, “Look at that.”