[It's all wrong. The sheer wrongness of it is enough to send a set of chills down Wade's spine as well. He finds himself shaking his head at Travis's explanation.]

No. No, Trav. [His voice is gentle and quiet, as if talking to an invalid.] That's not what happened at all. I mean, maybe you were walking down the street when it happened, and maybe you did feel like something was out to get you, but...

[He stops; looks down at the floor, as if looking away from Travis would make the telling easier.]

I saw you that day, Trav. I saw them drag you out of your house. You were screaming something about being sick, about needing help... and then they clubbed you over the head with a rifle butt and tossed you in their van like a sack of potatoes. I didn't know where they were gonna take you... it all didn't make sense, and when I saw the way they were handling you like that, like you were just a common criminal, I almost--

[He stops short; presses his lips tightly together, not wanting to admit how close he came to committing assault or even murder for Travis's sake. His voice is even quieter when he speaks again, almost inaudible.]

I thought you were never coming back.