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Chapter 21
It wasn't until he came back from taking the longest piss of his life that David Carson noticed his son was nowhere in sight. He listened for a minute, straining to here the slightest twig break or rustling of a bush. The forest was quiet and strangely devoid of any animal sounds today, calm and sedated. He buttoned his fly and stepped back into the clearing, his heavy black boots kicking up saw dust. He frowned and looked down the twisted, uneven path wrought from the thick brush.
"Michael?" he shouted.
Only his echo bouncing between the trees into the distance replied.
David wiped his dark brow with the back of his large hand and walked down the trail to his Dodge Ram truck. Maybe the boy had gone back for a soda? He hoped so. The forest carried the sounds of his progress as he navigated the overgrown trail, his obsidian black eyes scanning the infinite woods as he went. The fresh unbroken evergreen brush and pine trees greeted him as he reached the red truck.
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