All three men turn at the sound. Standing a few yards behind them is a small child wearing a white sleeping gown and clutching a tattered doll in her right hand. It is Robin Weaver. She has a dazed look in her eyes, seeming to be half-asleep and unaware of her surroundings.
"Robin!" cries Jenkins. "Girl, where have you been? Your folks are worried sick! Come here!"
There is a rumbling deep underground. The earth shudders and begins to push upwards, as if some huge object were coming up out of the ground. Robin clutches her doll tightly and shuts her eyes tight. Jenkins lets out a weak groan and collapses backwards onto the forest floor.
Robin walks forward as if in a trance and stops where Jenkins has fallen. She kneels beside him and whispers into his ear. His eyes widen in horror at the strange words that are spoken. The rumbling sound becomes louder. It is shaking leaves from the nearby trees now.
"Shoot her! Kill her now! She's going to take our souls! The devil has come to claim us! AHHHGH!!!!!!!!"
The old man fumbles with his shirt pocket and pulls out a silvery metallic object. He clutches it in a hand that trembles greatly. It is a small crucifix.
As Robin falls to the ground, the forest falls silent. Jenkins looks up to see Marco, sees the gun in his hand. He glances fearfully at his target. Robin lies still as a corpse. There is no blood or sign of a bullet wound, but she does not appear to breathe or live at all.
"It could be a trick. We should get out of here just in case... you know. I'll back up your story, Marco. Tell everyone that we didn't find her. They won't suspect us. But we shouldn't linger here..."
Charles, Marco, and Jenkins walk together back towards town. Back to safety. None of them speak a word about what just happened. There simply are no words for it. They went out there to find a missing child; they return home as murderers, with a secret they can never reveal.