Ian stumbled on a branch hidden in the shadows and grabbed Bob’s arm for support.

  “Nice move, klutz.” John helped Ian regain his balance.

  “We should have brought a flashlight,” their voices subdued by an unspoken mutual consent.

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  Marie walked into Bob, jabbing him painfully in the back with the lens of the camera. She gave a small squeak, then rubbed her eye with her free hand.

  “Serves you right,” Bob faced his daughter briefly. “You should have stayed at the house.”

  “Nope.”

  “Kids.” Bob rubbed the top of Marie’s head, mussing her hair.

  “Stop that,” she pulled away, her voice loud in the gloom.

  All the men shushed her to silence.

  “Assholes.”

  They moved further in to the woods at a tentative pace.