He took a soft step, and then another, which brought him right up to the clearing. He focused a moment on the passionate girls in the backseat of the car but did not raise his binoculars for a closer look.
He was on a mission now. Deuce thumbed the camera mode to video and pressed Record.
He stayed just inside the trees, in the shadows, and circled the clearing, going past the brush pile toward the Camry and coming up on it from behind and to its right. He imagined himself a panther and moved slow and careful until the car and the girls were down a bank and slightly below him, not twenty yards away.
From that angle, he could see the girls were both completely naked. He was flustered, fascinated; part of him wanted to go even closer, right in the backseat if he could. But that wouldn’t get him anywhere, now would it?
He had them framed perfectly. And the light wasn’t bad at all. He was sure this would be his best effort yet. Two blondes? I’ll be a hero!
Deuce almost laughed out loud but became transfixed when one girl’s hand left the other one’s breasts and slid south toward—
The boy heard the grumble of an engine and looked around. It sounded like a vehicle was
coming fast and heading toward the clearing. The girls heard it too and scrambled for their clothes.
Are you kidding me? Deuce groaned.
He heard a shriek. He looked back at their car. One of the girls was staring out the window at him.
“There’s some pervo kid in camo out there!” she yelled. “He’s filming us!”
Deuce freaked and ran. He bolted deeper into the woods and then arced back the way he’d come, jumping logs, dodging trees, and smiling like he’d just escaped some tower with a king’s jewel in his pocket.
And in a way, he had, hadn’t he? He glanced at the phone gripped tightly in his hand as he continued to sprint back toward the trail. It wasn’t the epic video he’d hoped for, but it was still—
Deuce heard a vehicle roar into the clearing and skid to a halt. One of the girls screamed.
Deuce stopped and looked back. Sweat dripped down his face, and he strained to see the clearing through the thick foliage.
The boy told himself to go, get home fast, upload the video to his computer, and spend the night reliving his victory before trying to figure out which website to sell it to. But his natural curiosity overwhelmed him, propelled him back toward the clearing’s edge.
The sun was setting. Shadows were taking the opening in the woods. A white Ford utility van with a souped-up motor was idling next to the Camry, blocking Deuce’s view of the girls.
He lifted his binoculars, saw the van’s windows were darkly tinted. A magnetic sign on the near side said DISH NETWORK.
Dish? Out here? Wasn’t that like a—
“No!” one of the girls shouted from the other side of the van. “Please! Don’t do this! Help! Kid! Help us, kid!”
Deuce realized she was screaming for him and didn’t know what to do.
Another scream followed, louder, terror-stricken. One of the girls was sobbing, blubbering, begging for mercy.
Deuce began to tremble with fear. A voice in his head yelled, Run!
A car door slammed. The van door slid shut, muffling the girls’ cries.
I’m probably wrong for taking the video, Deuce thought, but this is seriously messed up. I’ve got to do something.
He dug furiously in his pocket, came up with a little magnetic doubling lens that he fitted to his phone’s camera lens. He slid the mode to photo for better resolution and zoomed in on the van’s rear license plate, lit by its parking lights, some sixty yards away.
The van’s headlights went on. The engine revved. They were leaving.
Deuce squeezed the upper volume button of the iPhone to shoot without flash or autofocus. Click, click, click. He got five shots in all before the van rolled forward, picked up speed, and left the clearing.
The boy watched the van go, then raised his binoculars to look at the Camry. It was empty in the last fading light. No movement. Both girls were gone.
The boy began to tremble; he felt sick. Those girls had been screaming.