She stopped at a strip of white cloth dangling from a branch at her waist. This had to be from someone in Rodney's party; savages didn't have cloth like this. Might it have come from an accident or part of a battle? She quickened her pace and called Rodney's name again.
Along the path she found an empty shoe and then a pair of pants. One leg of the pants was sliced open and dotted with blood. "Oh no," she said.
"What is it?" Wendell asked, his voice heavy with sleep.
"They've been through here," she said. She held the pants up for him to see. "We're too late."
"There might still be time. Come on." Wendell slid off Prudence's shoulders and dashed ahead into a clearing. Even before he fell to his knees she sensed disaster waiting.
"No," she said. "It can't be."
The bodies of five young boys dotted the clearing. None of the boys could be much older than Wendell, their clothes ballooning around them and their heavy rucksacks lying useless nearby. Someone had butchered them to the extent Prudence couldn't see their faces without wiping blood away with the hem of her dress.
She cleaned one boy's face after another without seeing her husband's in their features. "He's not here," she said.
"Maybe he got away," Wendell said.
She looked around and then called softly, "Rodney, it's Prudence. Don't be afraid. Come on out if you can hear me."
She waited for him to answer back or for a rustling in the brush that might reveal him. "Rodney, please come out. Everything will be all right now."
She paced to the edge of the clearing, still calling for him. She didn't care if he emerged as himself or a little boy, so long as he was still alive. Nothing else mattered to her.
"Maybe the reverend took him," Wendell said.
A drop fell onto Prudence's head despite the fact it hadn't rained since she'd woke up. She looked up just as a drop of blood splattered onto her face. Another and then another drop splashed onto her face and clothes. She reached up to find the source of the blood and touched a tiny foot.
Her scream brought Wendell running to her side. She collapsed to the ground, unable to look up at the horrible sight of her husband swinging from a branch. The ground muffled her wails of grief as she sobbed for her fallen husband.
Wendell's hand touched her back. "We should get him down from there," he said.
Prudence raised her head and nodded, wiping away the tears. "You're right," she said. "We can't leave him like this."