Regan's curious, hopeful expression sinks when Martin trails off, and she feels her back go stiff when Martin lifts his finger to his mouth. She turns slowly, and her stomach clenches when she sees it moving through the corn.

"Marcus, go inside," she says, and she's not looking at him, so she doesn't see his protest: that they'll hear him, that they'll find him, and kill them, and everyone else here. He's shaking, eyebrows a tight, tragic arc.