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“He needs a few more minutes,” Virgil said. “Then maybe something to eat. No wonder he’s getting so damn skinny.”
“No kidding,” Luther said.
Adam lay, apparently asleep, jacket tucked beneath his head and curled on his side on the ground like a child. Maybe a child with pneumonia. Luther had seen Adam looking pretty rough over the past month, but, with the exception of hallucinating and hypothermic on the mountain, this was about as bad as he’d seen him.
Virgil, on the other hand, leaving aside his temper tantrum a little while ago, appeared as sane as Luther had ever seen him. The removal of his scraggly mountain man beard helped. But the sideways, paranoid glances from the jail were gone. When he spoke to Luther, he looked at him directly, but not so intently you thought he was tr
