"You mean," Jerry asked carefully, "that they didn't have any effect at all?"
Mike nodded. He tipped the glass, wiped his ragged sleeve across his face, and rose.
"Where are you going?"
"Back to the cabin."
"Mike, you can't go there!"
"That's where my brother's body is."
"Look," Jerry said evenly, "you can't help him now. Stay here with me, and we'll go up in the morning."
Carver shook his head. "My brother's there at the cabin. I got to set up with him." There was no arguing against that tone of simple and utter finality.
"All right. Wait till I get some clothes on, and I'll drive you back."
A few minutes later they passed through Wide Bend's deserted streets and started out the road to the valley. Carver rolled down his window and spat tobacco juice. "Feller was up to see us," he said gloomily. "Told us people was losin' things all over the county—includin' two kids. Said crops has shrunk. Said water in the forks is way down."