One thing Willa picked up on was the cables running along some of the passageways that she did not remember seeing before. She didn't know what they were for, but intuitively concluded that their presence did not portend anything good.

Quarry unlocked the door and they all stepped outside, blinking to adjust to the light.

"Right nice day," said Quarry as he led the little group outside.

And it was. The sky was a light blue and cloudless. The breeze from the west was warming but gentle. They sat on a large rock and gazed around. Willa looked interested, Diane Wohl indifferent, and Daryl just scowled off into the distance.

"Where'd you learn to fly?" said Willa, pointing at the little Cessna parked on the grassy strip.

"Vietnam. Nothing like a war to teach you how to fly real good. 'Cause you don't fly real good in a war, the problem ain't that you don't arrive on time, it's that you don't arrive at all."

"I've been on a plane," said Willa. "We went to Europe last summer. Me and my family. And I've flown to California. Have you been on a plane?" she asked Diane.

She said nervously, "Yeah, I travel a lot for work. But not planes like that one," she added, pointing at Quarry's ride. "Big ones."

"What sort of work do you do?" asked Willa.

"Look, Willa, I'm not exactly in the mood to chitchat, okay?" she said, eying Quarry warily.

"Okay," the girl said, apparently unperturbed by this. "Can I walk down there?" she asked Quarry, pointing to the grassy strip.

Quarry gave Daryl a look and then nodded at Diane.

"Sure, let's go."

They made their way down the short slope, Quarry holding on to Willa's hand. When they got to level ground he let go and they walked side by side.

"Is that your mountain?" she asked, pointing behind her.

"More of a hill than a mountain, but yeah, I guess it is mine. Or at least it was my granddaddy's and it got passed down to me."

"You sure you told my family that I'm okay?"

"Sure I'm sure, why?"

"Diane said she didn't think you had contacted her mother to let her know she was all okay."

"Is that right?" Quarry looked back up Diane, who sat on a rock looking as miserable as she no doubt felt.

Willa said quickly, "Don't be angry at her, we were just talking." She hesitated. "Did you call her mother?"

Quarry didn't answer. He just walked on. Willa had to hurry along to keep up with his strides.

"How's your daughter?"

Quarry stopped walking. "Why all the questions, girl?" he said darkly.

"Why not?"

"That's just another damn question. Answer mine."

"I don't have anything else to do," Willa said simply. "I'm alone almost all the time. I've read all the books you brought. Diane doesn't say much when we're together. She just mostly cries and hugs me. I miss my family and this is the first time I've seen the sun since I tried to get away. I'm just basically trying to hold everything together. Would you rather I like screamed and ranted and bawled my eyes out? Because I can if you want."

Quarry started walking again and so did she. "I got two daughters, actually. Lot older than you. All grown up."

"I meant the daughter who doesn't read anymore. How is she doing?"

"Not too well."

"Can I ask some more questions? Or will you get mad?"

Quarry stopped, snagged a rock off the ground, and tossed it about twenty feet. "Sure, it's okay."

"Is she really sick?"

"You know what a coma is?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's what she's in. Has been for over thirteen years. Longer than you've been alive."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too."

"What happened to her?"

"Somebody hurt her."

"Why would they do that?"

"Good question. Turns out some people don't care who they hurt."

"Did they ever catch the person?"

"No."

"What's your daughter's name?"

"Tippi."

"Can you tell me your name?"

"Sam."

"I know you can't tell me your last name, Sam."

"It's Quarry. Sam Quarry."

Willa looked stricken.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"You just told me your whole name," she said shakily.

"So? You asked."

"But if you told me your whole name, I could tell the police, but only if you plan on letting us go. So that means you're not going to let us go." She said this last part in a hushed voice.

"Why don't you think about that again? There's another answer. You're smart, go for it."

Willa stared up at him with a strange look on her face. Finally she said, "I guess it could be that you don't care if I tell the police your name."

"Hell, I expect lots of folks will know my name soon enough."

"Why's that?"

"Just will. You know, speaking of names, there's a little black boy that lives with me called Gabriel. Almost as old as you. And he's about as smart as you too. He's a real good boy. Nice as they come."

"Can I meet him?" she said quickly.

"Not right now, no. See, he doesn't know anything about this and I intend to keep it that way. But what I want you to do is make sure that folks know him and his ma, Ruth Ann, didn't know nothing about this. Not a thing. Will you do that for me, Willa?"

"Okay, sure."

"Thanks. Because it's important."

"Is he your son?" Willa was now looking back at Daryl.

"What makes you say that?"

"You have the same eyes."

Quarry stared up at Daryl. "Yeah, he's my boy."

"Did you two get in a fight? I heard stuff in the mine. And his face is all messed up. And your mouth too."

Quarry touched his injured lip. "Sometimes people don't see eye to eye 'bout things. But I still love him. Just like I love Tippi."

"You're a very unusual kidnapper, Mr. Quarry," she said bluntly.

"Just call me Mr. Sam, same as Gabriel does."

"Will it be too much longer? All this?"

Quarry drew a deep breath and let the air rustle around inside his lungs before expelling it. "Not too much longer, no."

"I think you're sorry you had to do this."

"In one way yes, in another way no. But this is the only way I had."

"Do we have to go back in yet, Mr. Sam?"

"Not yet. Soon. But not yet."

They sat on the ground and enjoyed the warmth of the sun.

When they went back inside later, Quarry let Diane and Willa spend some time together in Diane's room.

"Why are you being nice to that guy?" Diane said as soon as Quarry had locked the door and walked off.

"There's something strange about him."

"Of course there is, he's a psycho."

"No, I don't think he is. But as far as being nice to him, I'm trying to stay on Mr. Sam's good side."

"Assuming he has one. God, I could use a cigarette."

"Cigarettes can kill you."

"I'd rather die by my own hand." She pointed at the door. "Instead of his," she yelled.

"Now you're scaring me." Willa drew back a little.

Diane calmed and sat at the table. "I'm sorry, Willa. I'm sorry. We're all under a lot of stress. You miss your family, I miss mine."

"You told me before you didn't have a family of your own. How come?"

Diane looked at her in a strange way. "I wanted to get married and have children, but it just didn't work out."

"You're still young."

"Thirty-two."

"You have plenty of time. You can still have a family."

"Who says I want one now?" Diane said bitterly.

Willa fell silent as she watched Diane rub her hands nervously together and stare down at the tabletop.

"We're never getting out of here, you know that, don't you?" said Diane.

"I think we will, if things go according to Mr. Sam's plan."

Diane leapt up. "Stop calling him that! It makes him sound like he's somebody's doting grandfather and not some crazy freak."

"Okay," Willa said fearfully. "Okay. I'll stop."

Diane sank back down in the chair. "You miss your mom?" she said in a low voice.