When Atlas stood up, his mind shut down. He stumbled after Logan like an automaton. But after what was either hours or interminable minutes, the trees grew brighter, in tiny increments, their silence louder, the space between them more palpable. Altas had never noticed how three-dimensional the trees were, how they occupied space front and back. He’d only ever seen them as a picture. Now, as he walked between them, he felt them differently. Under it all, he thought he heard a low thrumming, like an engine, or the echo of a highway, or waves, he wasn’t sure. He was dizzy, and when a dark blue bird with a black crest flew in front of him, it left a trail of blue in the air behind it. He shook his head. He must be in shock. The jay landed on a branch above his head and squawked at him, a high
