There was nobody to barter with, nobody to trade the kid to. I couldn’t even swim. The kid kept yelling his brother’s name until I had enough. I clocked him and he went down. He was crying and trying to talk through a bloody lip, pointing to a symbol painted on the pool tile – “Vengement! We have to leave here.” He tried to explain, but totally lost it again when we heard cars pull up out front. We went out the rear exit and I tried sneaking around the side of the building to see if we could make it to the Honda. That’s when I saw the pile of plastic bags under a cloud of swarming flies. The kid came racing up behind me, but I grabbed his hand and headed around the other way. He didn’t need to see the body parts hanging out of the plastic, or the vengement painted next to them. I’d found Danny and the other boys. Nothing gained by him knowing that.