“She’s long gone,” the Laughing Boy muttered. He kicked some loose rocks over the edge into the old creek. A few hit Sadie’s face and shoulders, but she stayed crouched. “Let’s get out of here before someone sees the fire and calls the cops.”
Sadie waited. The shadow disappeared, but still she waited. The sounds of his footsteps faded, but still she waited.
“I know you’re out there!” Kyle called out. “If you’d been nice, you could have just walked away. But now I’m going to find you. You can hide, but I’m going to find you.”
Go to hell, Kyle, Sadie thought.
“I’ve got your precious books,” Kyle shouted. “Come and get them!”
The ledgers. As desperately as she needed it, the cash could be replaced. But her ledger was part of her now. She’d just gained this power, and now it had slipped through her fingers. And the other ledgers were a link to her past that might be lost forever. She couldn’t lose them. Not to these bastards.
But she wasn’t about to go back up that hill. She was exhausted, in pain, and furious. But she wasn’t stupid.
She moved down the creek bed, careful to stay low, to step in the dirt, to stay away from the rocks. She heard more shouting, more laughter. She saw only darkness, the barest of outlines of the land ahead of her. In that darkness she saw the flames consuming her home and the terrible red eyes in the cavern. She saw the deputy lose his fingers, and the King’s Man cut apart by gunfire. She saw Graciela’s averted gaze, hands drumming on the steering wheel. And she saw her mom, pristine and full of cancer, lying in a hospital bed. She saw her chest rise, and fall. Rise, and fall. And go still.
Eventually the creek leveled out and ran under a small bridge. Sadie huddled underneath, her head nearly scraping the top. The road above her would lead to town, miles away. She had no choice; she had to walk it. But for now, she waited. The Laughing Boys would come this way, when they ran out of patience, and she didn’t want to be found limping on the side of the road. So she would wait.
She kept the knife out and in her palm. It wouldn’t do much, if it came to that, but she wanted to do all she could. They might take her, but they’d regret it. Every day for the rest of their miserable lives, they’d think back and regret coming for her. The rules of Red Valley said not to trust the Liar. Well, Sadie was going to amend that rule: Don’t fuck with the Liar. Don’t come to her home and burn down her memories and steal her family’s past. Don’t take away everything she has in this world. Because then she has nothing to lose.
Her head drooped, her eyes closed, and she slept.
The fire burned. Even when the house shuddered and fell in on itself, the fire grew. Ash and embers blew glowing into the air. But not all ashes came from this fire. Other ashes, blown north on the wind, ashes that had come from far off, ashes that came with a purpose, settled among these flames. Fed them. Breathed life into them.
The color of the fire changed. If you looked closely, with eyes to see, you might see the shadows of faces waiting among the flames.
Power does not come from nothing. Life comes from life. The truest fires are not fueled by wood or grass, but by the end of one life and the start of another. Nothing burned like a soul.
Those who waited behind the flames knew this well. They knew this very well.
The fire on the hill grew. The night fled.
Men were gathered around the fire, men… and something more, hiding within them. Blue dead light gleamed in their eyes. Those who waited behind the flames recognized the things that had taken over these men, knew from where they came, to whom they swore allegiance. But they did not care. One of these corrupted men stood close to the fire and those who waited behind the flames sang their burning song to him. His demon sensed the danger, but too late. They pulled him into the inferno. His screams brought the rest of his brothers, but they could do nothing for him. These small devils recognized that they were in the presence of something vast, something they should fear, and they fled into the night.
Those who waited behind the flames savored the burnt offering. They would be stronger now. Strong enough, if the whispers could be believed. And they would be stronger still before they reached the King. There was much yet to consume.
If there was a breeze that summer night, it blew off to the west, away from Red Valley. But the fire did not follow the wind, as it should. It came south, straight for the town, as if driven by a mind of its own.
Sadie jolted awake when a car ran over the bridge. She brought the knife up in front of her, but she was alone. The car drove on, fading into the distance. There was just one, so it was probably not the Laughing Boys. Hopefully they were long gone.
She looked out from under the bridge and saw a world lit with orange dawn light. Her whole body hurt and she smelled smoke. Her ankle was stiff and swollen, but the pain had dulled somewhat. The road was empty. The sky back toward her house was full of black billowing smoke. The fire hadn’t gone out. In fact, she could see the angry flicker of flames at the crest of the hill. There was nothing between here and Red Valley but dried grass. It would all burn so easily.
Sadie folded up the knife and put it away. It couldn’t help her now. She put some more weight on her ankle and felt the jolting pain start up again. It didn’t matter. She needed to walk, so that’s what she was going to do.
One foot, and then the other. She hobbled along the edge of the road. She felt exposed, but she’d never get to town if she tried to go off-road. Some risks just couldn’t be avoided.
I’ll make them pay.
I will find them. I will take back what is mine. And then I will make them pay.
Sadie wasn’t sure who she was making this vow to. Her lost ancestors, the authors of the books she’d lost? Her mom, whose house had just been destroyed? Or herself, to combat the guilt she felt for losing it all? It didn’t matter. What mattered was this next step, and then the next.
She walked. The sun rose, and the smoke rose with it.
I’m coming for you.
Lost in these thoughts, she didn’t hear the sheriff’s car until it pulled up right beside her.
Chapter Nineteen
She rode in the back. The deputy didn’t say much, but he hadn’t tried to handcuff her, so Sadie didn’t mind. She’d told him about the Laughing Boys; maybe he believed her, maybe not. At this point, she didn’t care. She was just grateful for the ride into town, even if it was behind hardened glass and wire and smelled like old cigarettes.
The radio chattered as they drove. She barely understood what was being said, but it didn’t sound good. Fire engines roared past them, lights and sirens ablaze, heading toward what had once been her home. Out the back window, the smoke rose ever higher.
The Sheriff’s Department was an imposing chunk of sandstone that sat right in the middle of Red Valley, next to the county courthouse and across from the library. Its windows were small, like eyes squinting in the too bright sun, and hatched with metal bars. An American flag hung lifeless from a pole jutting from one corner.
The deputy escorted her inside. Their arrival raised some eyebrows. It lowered some, as well. She ignored the scowls from jowly middle-aged men. What did they matter, after a night of hiding from blue-lit eyes hunting for her blood in the dark?
“I want to see the sheriff,” Sadie demanded to the deputy.
He said nothing, but led her to a room with a metal door.
“Am I under arrest?”
“We’d like to ask you a few questions,” he said.
“Do I need a lawyer?”
“Do you have one?”
He opened the door and brought her inside. The walls were painted concrete. There were two plastic chairs on either side of a heavy steel table. She sat only because of her ankle.
“I can let you make a phone call,” the deputy offered.
Who could she call? Not Graciela, not after what had happened. Even if she still had the King’s Man’s card, she doubted he’d appreciate a call from the Sheriff’s
Department. No, Sadie was on her own now, more like her mother every day.
“No, thanks,” she said.
The deputy stepped out into the hall. A moment later, he returned and gave her a foam cup with lukewarm black coffee. Then he disappeared, closing the door behind him.
She was supposed to feel safe here. That’s what the deputies were for: protecting the people of Red Valley. That’s what they’d sworn to do when they put on their badges. But those illusions had cracked at the crossroads, and been blown away entirely at the base of the King’s hill. The deputies were just men, with all the crap that came along with that. They wanted power and control, and they had the means to enforce it.
Or so they’d thought, until the King opened the very ground up under them.
A few minutes later, a man with a suit and tie came into the room. He asked Sadie questions about what happened at her house. He asked about the Laughing Boys. He asked why they wanted to harm her. Sadie—of course—lied. The sheriffs didn’t need to know her business. He wrote down her answers, the truthful ones and the rest, and then offered a weak smile, and left. Her coffee went cold.
Two men came the next time. One was old, the other even older. They asked the same questions. She gave them the same answers and tried not to laugh at their comb-overs. She asked to see the sheriff. They smiled and thanked her. And left.
Eventually, the door opened again. Undersheriff Hassler stood in the doorway.
“I asked to speak to your boss,” Sadie said when he settled his bulk into the chair opposite. “I’ve got nothing to say to you.”
“He’s been detained,” Hassler said. He offered her no smile, no feigned warmth. “So you’re stuck with me. The world’s gone a bit to hell out there, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Have they put the fire out yet?”
“No,” he said. “And that’s only one of my headaches today. Things”—he said the word with a measure of disgust—“are making trouble all over. Testing the King’s Peace.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“We’re more than up to the task.”
“You have no idea what’s coming,” Sadie said. She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “This is only the start. It just gets worse from here.”
“The King tell you that?” Hassler asked. “Did he also tell you when he was going to start helping out with all this mess?”
Sadie didn’t reply.
Hassler sighed and deflated a little. He spread his hands on the table. “You and I got off on the wrong foot.”
“You had your men beat my friend and threatened to send him to prison.”
“Back to prison,” Hassler said. “And he’s not your friend.”
“You get to decide who my friends are now?”
“You know why he went to prison in the first place? He tell you that, since you’re such good friends and all?”
Sadie’s mouth tightened. Hassler stared at her expectantly, so after a long tense silence, she said, “No.”
“Well then let me enlighten you. We knew he was selling drugs. That much was obvious. We’d see him all the time making his rounds at the apartments on the far side of the River. Everyone there is using or selling, trust me. But that wasn’t enough, not for Roberto. We get a call one day. Someone’s been stabbed. Deal gone bad, we suspect. Stabbed four times in the chest. DOA. Takes a hard man to do that. Shooting’s easy. But a knife? That’s a real killer’s weapon.”
“Beto served eighteen months,” Sadie said. “That’s what you get for killing someone?”
The creases around Hassler’s mouth deepened. The muscles on his jaw flexed. “Never found the weapon. Probably tossed it in the River. Found him on the bridge afterward.”
“Walking home,” Sadie offered. “In broad daylight. After murdering someone.”
“He got a fair trial. Due process. More than he gave that guy he killed.”
“Whatever he did,” Sadie said, her voice gone cold, “he served his time. What you and your men did out there was unprovoked. It was illegal. And it was evil.”
Hassler didn’t respond immediately. Sadie didn’t care; she was tired of these conversations with the undersheriff. Nothing he could say would matter to her. Still, when he spoke, he did surprise her. “You might be right,” he said. “I won’t pretend I don’t have regrets. But it was done in the service of a greater good.”
“You really going to pull the ‘the ends justify the means’ shit?”
“The ends inspired the means,” he said. “But maybe we were a bit overzealous.”
“Is that your idea of an apology?”
“It’s closer than you’ll ever get from the King,” Hassler said. He sat back and mirrored Sadie’s pose. “This isn’t some power grab. Hell, this is Red Valley we’re talking about here. Being boss of this little town isn’t something people dream about at night. I was born here. Lived my whole life here. I know the rules. But I’ve also seen the way the King runs this place. I’ve picked up the pieces after he administers his ‘justice’ and his ‘peace.’ I’ve scrubbed the blood from the asphalt. The people here deserve better.”
Sadie let out a breath and swirled the tepid black liquid in the coffee cup. “My mom died.” She laughed a little when she said it, a mirthless sound. “Just a few days ago. Hard to even remember it, after everything that’s happened since.
“My mom died. My only friend hates me because of what you did to her brother. I got to watch one of the King’s Men maim one of your deputies, then watch your deputies murder one of the King’s Men. And then last night a bunch of junkies burned my house down and stole the only precious things I have left in the world. But please, tell me more about your holy crusade to rid Red Valley of evil. I’m riveted.”
They sat in concrete-muffled silence for a long time. Sadie could only guess at the calculations running behind the undersheriff’s hard eyes. He seemed to want something from her that she wasn’t willing to give. Understanding? Approval? He obviously believed firmly in his own righteousness, but maybe he needed others to believe in it too. Easier to do the messy things when you knew someone was on your side.
“Thank you for providing your statements to my colleagues,” Hassler said at last. “Our investigation will be on-going. We will let you know if we require anything further from you.”
“That’s it? The Laughing Boys come to my house to kill me and that’s it?”
Hassler’s mouth twitched. “I’ve got a whole list of problems on my hands today. These are eventful times.” He stood up and held the door open for her. “Be safe out there.”
Sadie rolled her eyes, but got to her feet and made for the door. Her ankle hurt, but she wasn’t about to limp in front of the undersheriff. But as she passed him, one of his big hands caught her arm and stopped her.
“If I did have the manpower, which I don’t,” he said in a much quieter voice, “but if I did, I’d start my investigation at the old Sierra Nevada Lumber Mill. The place is abandoned, but that’s where the Laughing Boys all hang out. I’d wager anything stolen by them would end up there sooner or later.”
Sadie stared at him with suspicion. “Are you trying to help me, or get me killed?”
Now he offered the glimmer of an unreadable smile. “Be safe out there,” he said again.
The column of gray smoke rose high over the buildings of Red Valley when Sadie stepped outside. The air tasted like ash. The summer heat baked the sidewalk that ran in front of the Sheriff’s Department. It came off the stonework of the building in vengeful waves, as though willing Sadie to get away. She was more than happy to oblige.
Across the street in the county library, she was welcomed by air conditioning and the smell of aging books. She found an empty computer near the back and quickly looked up the Sierra Nevada Lumber Mill. It had apparently been closed down for decades, after the lumber stopped coming down from the mountains. She looked it up on a map. The mill was next to the River. They used to send the logs downriver to
be processed here in Red Valley, but that was before the forests thinned out and the River turned mean. Most of the good paying jobs in Red Valley vanished with that lumber, never to be seen again.
She clicked another link and found a picture. It was black-and-white and more than a little grainy. A group of twenty or so frowning men with drooping mustaches were gathered on a dirt road, under a sign with the mill’s name. Sadie could just make out the mill’s main building behind them. Stacks of wood filled the yard, most twice as tall as any of the men. Business was booming then. Not anymore.
Sadie printed the map, waved to the librarian, and went out to brave the heat and smoke again.
And stepped into a warzone.
Chapter Twenty
At first it just looked like a bad car accident. Two cars sat at odd angles in the intersection next to the library. The front bumper on the smaller car had been completely smashed. The larger car—a blue SUV—fared better, but steam was still rising from its crumpled hood. The road was littered with broken glass and scarred by curving tire marks. Then Sadie heard the screaming.
A thing jumped up onto the SUV and made an awful sound that was somehow both a shriek and a roar. The vehicle shook under its weight. The thing looked like a huge dog, its slick gray skin covered in cruel-looking spines. Its paws were bigger than Sadie’s head and ended in talons. Its mouth was long like a crocodile and full of glistening sharp teeth, and its black eyes were wide and hungry.
“Oh, fuck,” Sadie whispered. A bear-killer. People in town told stories about these things, and they never ended well. They were supposed to hunt around the foothills far from town and never crossed the line of the King’s Peace. Not until today.
A couple deputies had come outside to investigate the noise; they immediately opened fire on the beast. The pedestrians unlucky enough to be close by scrambled for cover as the bullets started to fly. The bear-killer roared, but it sounded more pissed off than wounded.
There was nowhere for Sadie to run that didn’t bring her closer to the creature, so she ducked behind a big metal box where patrons returned borrowed books. One man—the driver of the SUV—didn’t get away fast enough. The bear-killer sunk low on powerful legs, then exploded into the air and onto the terrified man. They slammed into the road with a wet smack and the man’s screams turned to silence.
The Liar of Red Valley Page 16