Gianci Olfrandi shivered and settled as far from the arguing group of men as he could. The cloth covering his eyes, almost glued against his face, had caused some of his skin to peel off. An infection was setting in, causing him pain. He couldn't even think of touching the blindfold's edge; if air penetrated underneath the cloth, he had been told, the blindfold would change color, letting his captors know they had been seen. And that would be the end of poor Gianci. He sighed. He wondered where his grandfather was, what he was doing, why he hadn't come to his rescue. Did he not care about him? He was the carrier of the family name, after all. He sighed again, harder.
He huddled with his knees pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapping around them, and sniffled. He swiped his hand across his nose, then wiped it on his chest. A cold. On top of everything else, he was getting a cold, he thought. He sneezed violently and Aldo glanced over at him.
"Damn kid sounds like he's getting sick. I don't like any of this, not at all."
"He's been pretty quiet lately, Aldo," Ugo said. "Actually, I think he's been a bit too quiet. Maybe he's up to something."
"Nah, he's just learned his lesson. It's taking him long enough. He's just learning how to be obedient," Aldo said, his grin exposing his yellowed teeth. "Leave him alone."
The men returned to their discussion as they huddled inside a small tent, slight protection from the weather. At the rear of the tent, Gianci shifted with care. He didn't want the men to notice what he was doing.
"At the least, we should be able to have a camp fire," Ugo said, annoyed. "I'm tired of cold food, and I want some good hot coffee."
"No fire. Didn't you hear the airplane? I noticed it yesterday, off and on, all day," Aldo said. "It flies east-west, then west-east. Regularly. Did it this morning, too. Like I said, I don't like it at all." He frowned. "I think it's a reconnaissance plane. I know how they operate. We've been spotted. Maybe we ought to start thinking about getting rid of the kid and splitting up. We'd be harder to find if we were separated."
"No. Not after all we've been through!" Ugo shouted and jumped to his feet, hitting his head on the top of the tent. It listed slightly. Ugo turned toward the rear of the tent with a frown. "Where the hell's the kid? He was there, right there at the back of the tent. Now he's gone." He bent down to where Gianci had sat. He looked closely, as though the boy had shrunk down to the size of a grain of sand, and only close examination could find him. He brushed the floor with his hand. "Warm," he said. Then his fingers reached the back wall of the tent, which slipped up under his touch. "What happened? No! Oh no!" he screamed. "The little shit has slipped under the tent!" The blindfold lay a few feet away. "He's gone! He can't be too far. All out to chase after him!"