Andy Schuller burst through the door with another sorry report. “No sign of Cobb.”
Bly cursed. “I should have finished him right then and there. Where’d you look?”
“We followed a trail of blood back to his garage, but he isn’t there. He’s hiding, or he’s gone, or—”
“He’s not gone. If he’s alive he’ll try to save Benson.”
Carl looked doubtful. “So how’s he gonna know where to find him?”
Stupid question, Bly’s face said. “Where else would Benson be? Andy, get down there. Take some men with you. If Cobb isn’t there, Tracy will be.”
Andy hesitated. “You mean . . . Hyde Hall?”
“Go on! You’re working for me, remember? You’ll be all right.”
“But it’s getting dark.”
“Go on!”
Andy turned toward the door just as it burst open again, and Joe and Elmer entered. “We’ve found Cobb.”
That got everyone’s attention.
“He was down in Hyde Hall,” said Joe. “We figured he’d try to save Benson.”
Bly was impressed. “There! You see?”
“He’s dead,” Elmer reported. “You killed him after all, Harold. It just took a while.”
“But before he died,” Joe continued, “he cut Benson loose. Benson’s gone.”
“And you found fresh hoofprints, am I right?” asked Bly.
Joe and Elmer looked at each other, then at Bly. “Yeah, that’s right,” Joe said. “How did you know?”
Bly waved his hand dismissively, then said, “So Tracy and Benson are going over the mountains.”
Elmer was the first to say it. “We’ll never find ’em now.”
“They’re gone,” said Joe.
“They’re marked,” Bly countered. “They’re marked, and the cause of all the trouble in the first place. How about it? You think they’ll make it out of the valley?”
Elmer and Joe looked at each other. The others looked at Elmer and Joe.
Elmer finally said, “I think you’ve got a point there, Harold.”
Bly finished his whiskey. “So they’ll be keeping the dragon busy for a while. That’ll give us time to clean out the town.”
Elmer and Joe looked at each other questioningly.
“Who were Cobb’s friends?” Bly asked.
Carl spoke up. “He’s got that Bible study group that meets at his house.”
“Don’t the Carlsons go to that?”
“Yeah, them and the Malones,” Andy added.
Bly nodded. “The Carlsons rent their house from me. That’ll be easy. The Malones . . . well, we’ll think of something.”
Andy finally asked, “What are you gonna do, Harold?”
Bly’s eyes narrowed. “This is the dragon’s town, Andy. He doesn’t like having these people in his town and he’s been trying to get that point across. It’s them or us.” Bly brought a finger perilously close to the raw area over Andy’s heart and said, “It’s them or you.”
TRACY AND STEVE followed the river about a half-mile above Old Town and found an obscure but navigable trail that crossed the old Hyde River Road and climbed into the hills on the west side. Elk and deer used the trail regularly; that was easy to see. As for other humans on horseback, as far as Steve could tell, no one had come through in quite a while.
“The trail will follow the river for another mile or so,” Tracy said in a near whisper, “and then head up Hatchet Creek.”
“I hope you realize we’re going to be sitting ducks out here in these mountains in the dark.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Don’t worry about it. Right. “We may want to find someplace to conceal ourselves until daylight.”
“Steve, don’t worry.”
Her casual attitude bothered him. “Tracy! All of the dragon attacks we know of took place under cover of darkness. It’s very likely the dragon will be out hunting after dark, which means he could very well spot us.”
“Maybe he won’t be able to distinguish us from the horses.”
“We’re marked, Tracy! The dragon will know where to find us!”
She only shot a disdainful look back at him and kept riding.
“We’re linked to that thing!”
“Quit talking!” she hissed. “You want to give us away?”
She rode on, he followed. She was right. They were too close to the river, to the highway, to other roads and small homesteads to be talking. Tracy seemed to know an effective route to make an escape, and so far it was working. He would have to trust her.
Just as the shadow of evening moved across the narrow valley, the trail came to Hatchet Creek and turned west, winding up the draw into the mountains. They pressed on, often emerging from the cover of the forest into clear meadows and pasturelands, which made Steve nervous. He kept his eyes on the clear sky above them—as if that would be of any use, he thought. The dragon could be disguised as that next clump of trees just ahead, or hiding in that meadow, his iron flanks mimicking the grass and wildflowers so perfectly you’d never know he was right there, watching and waiting.
A low tree limb stretched across the trail, and Steve ducked low in the saddle, lifting the limb over and behind him with his hand.
He thought he smelled something.
Maybe I’m thinking about the dragon too much, he thought. Now I’m starting to smell it. He grabbed the front of his own shirt and pulled it toward his nose, sniffing for the familiar odor of rot and death. No, nothing there. He was relieved. The pain in his chest had even faded a little. Either that or he’d just become used to it.
He sniffed the air carefully. No, he couldn’t be sure he really smelled it. He remained on the alert, however, and continually sampled the cool breeze moving down the draw. Somewhere in his mind, an insistent voice kept reminding him to care, to pay attention, to stay on top of it.
They rode up the draw. The sun was still shining on the top of the mountain, but not down here.
The top of what mountain? Steve looked long and carefully at the high, rocky ridge now illuminated by the sun.
Saddlehorse. The Hatchet Creek drainage ran just to the south of it. That thought gave him no comfort at all.
Nineteen
THE PURGE
JACK CARLSON was a young miner, the son of a miner, and he had worked for the Hyde Mining Company until being laid off just six months ago. Now his wife, Amy, had found a job in West Fork and commuted, and he was looking for work in that area. Housing had become a question, though. The rent they were paying for their company-owned, one-bedroom shanty in Hyde River had been raised several times, but it was still cheaper than what they’d have to pay in West Fork, so they stayed. Jack had heard of some stipulation regarding company housing being for employees only, but he’d never heard anything further after his layoff, and the company had been only too happy to receive his rent checks each month.
Even so, when he heard the knock on the door, he had an inkling something was up.
Amy was the one who opened the door to find Doug Ellis and four other grim-faced men standing outside with rifles in their hands and pistols on their hips.
She turned from the door. “Jack, you’d better come over here.”
Jack went to the door, and she stood behind him.
Doug spoke for the group. “Jack, the company needs this house vacated. You have to leave. Now!”
“Doug . . . what’s going on?” Jack asked, bewildered. “Why all the guns?”
“We want you out of town tonight.”
Amy gasped.
Jack couldn’t believe it. “Tonight?”
“Load up your stuff, take everything, and get out.”
“What’s happened? What’s wrong?”
“We’ve always paid our rent,” Amy said. “Ask Harold!”
Doug pointed his rifle in Jack’s face. “We’ll be back in an hour. We’d better see some progress, you got it?”
Jack was incredulous, horrified. “An h
our? It’s night, it’s getting dark . . .”
“An hour!” said Doug as they all turned away.
SAM AND KATHY MALONE and their three children heard a pounding on their door as well. Sam opened the door and saw Andy Schuller and his pool buddies, also armed.
“What is this?” Sam asked.
“The house has been rezoned, and you’re in violation,” Andy said.
“What, is this some kind of joke?”
Andy gestured with his rifle. “No joke, Sam. You’ve been using this house for public gatherings, and that’s in violation of the zoning ordinance.”
“What zoning ordinance?”
Andy didn’t have a good answer but tried to sound like he did.
“The company’s switching the town around. No more Bible studies in the homes, Sam.”
“Since when?”
“Since you’ve been doing ’em.”
“Harold Bly thinks he can tell me what I can and cannot do in my own house?” Sam said, irate.
“It might be your house, but this is his town.”
“I’ll just talk to a lawyer about that!”
“You have to get out tonight, Sam. Right now!”
Sam, like Jack Carlson, couldn’t believe this. “What do you mean, get out?”
Having never been good with words, Andy demonstrated instead. He grabbed Sam by the collar, yanked him out the door, and sent him sprawling in the front yard. Before Sam could recover, the men had stormed into the house.
Kathy started screaming.
SOMBER AND SILENT, Steve and Tracy crossed over Hatchet Creek then followed the trail as it began to wind and switch back up the steep slope of the draw. Soon the sound of the creek faded, and all they heard were the steady plodding of the horses’ hooves over the narrow, rocky trail, the quiet groaning of the leather saddles, and the song of distant crickets, unseen in the deepening dark.
We’re getting close to Saddlehorse, Steve kept thinking. The light was fading fast, and soon they would have no visual advantage. The dragon would have it all. They were still hidden under the forest canopy, but Steve knew that couldn’t last. Soon they would break out above the treeline, and their cover would be gone.
He’d been listening and watching, and so far there had been no sign of pursuers. What if they were not being followed? What if some kind of hiding place could be found, someplace where they could conceal themselves until daylight?
“Tracy,” he called softly.
He could barely see her in the dark maze of tree trunks and overhanging limbs ahead.
“Tracy,” he called again.
Finally she responded, “You know, Steve, when we get out of here we ought to go to Tanner’s Lodge on Cold Creek, just the other side of this pass. You wouldn’t believe the rooms they have there, all dark-stained woodwork and plush rugs and soft comforters on the beds . . .”
Well. For someone who’d just reminded him to keep quiet she was talking rather loudly. Steve kept his voice low, hoping she’d get the hint. “How much longer do you suppose we’ll have the overhead cover?”
“We’ll break out of it pretty soon.”
He looked up and saw the black silhouettes of the treetops almost touching, obscuring all but a tiny patch of starry sky. The dragon would be unable to penetrate that thick shield without causing a warning commotion. It would be nice to keep that advantage.
“We might want to think twice before we ride out in the open,” he said.
No answer. Only the quiet plodding of the horses and the rustling of low branches and brush gently sweeping the horses.
“Tracy?”
“I’m going to take a long shower when we get there,” she said dreamily. “I’m going to take a shower and then jump into that big soft bed, and it’s going to be sheer heaven. You’re going to love it.”
Now Steve’s voice had some edge on it. “Tracy, did you hear what I said?”
“What did you say?”
“I said we might want to think twice before we ride out in the open.”
She sounded truly puzzled. “Why? What are you so worried about?”
Brother, she really was somewhere else. “The dragon, remember? If we break out into the open we’ll be perfect targets.”
He couldn’t see her face clearly, but he heard her sniff a derisive little laugh. “The dragon. I think we’re far enough away by now.”
“Tracy!” How could she be so flippant? “We’re riding directly under Saddlehorse Peak. From all the sightings, it could be the dragon’s headquarters. I’d say we’re plenty close!”
“He’s not going to look for us down here.”
“You can’t be sure of that.”
“Bly and the others haven’t come after us. Why should the dragon?”
He regretted having to remind her. “We’re marked, Tracy. Remember?”
“Steve!” Her voice was playfully scolding. “Come on, the mark’s nothing. Once we’re out of here it’ll go away.”
“So just where does this trail go? How soon before we get over the pass?”
“Steve, you’re making a big deal out of this.”
Big deal? He thought of Vic Moore, Charlie, and Maggie, not to mention his half-eaten brother.
“I never told you about Doug’s little escapades, did I?”
He didn’t want to know about them, but he didn’t need a spat right now either, so he went along. “No.”
“I think he went out with Carlotta several times. I heard they were seen together at Tanner’s Lodge.”
Steve didn’t think he would ever come to Doug’s defense, but after that meeting in the tavern . . . “What do you mean, you heard they were seen together?”
“Someone told me.”
“I have a feeling that’s just gossip, Tracy.”
She didn’t hear a word he said. “So it’s kind of poetic, you know? Kind of fair. He had her at Tanner’s Lodge, but now I have you. Maybe we’ll even get the room they had.”
Under normal circumstances, he would have been disgusted to hear that kind of talk. He would have felt used. Instead, he felt scared.
She kept talking, “I knew there was something special about you—you know what I mean? Doug’s plenty of wind and muscle on the outside, but inside he’s a wimp; he’s as thin as paper. What I needed was a man with a real heart, some real character. Well, I got him. I got him.”
He sniffed the air. There it was. That smell. So he hadn’t imagined it. “Tracy—”
“Did I ever tell you about Andy Schuller and me? Boy, was that wild! I’ll tell you what ruined it: when I told him I was going to be a cop.” She laughed, really enjoying the memory. “He thought I was going to say I was pregnant! I don’t know which would have been worse, he took it so hard. It was like ‘Wow, Tracy’s got brains after all!’”
Oh God, no! Don’t let it happen to her! “Tracy, are you feeling all right?”
“The whole thing was stupid, though. It never would have worked out with Andy and me. Look at him, still loafing around and shooting pool at Charlie’s.”
He’d heard enough. “Tracy, hold up a second.”
She kept riding, even as he nudged his horse on a little faster to catch up.
“The thing with Jimmy never went anywhere either. Oh. You never met Jimmy. He was hurt in the mines and lost his leg. That was too bad. I really liked him.”
The thick overhead canopy was breaking up. The sky above was widening. They were climbing above the treeline, into the open. “Tracy, just where does this trail go?”
She just kept riding and talking, so loud he had no trouble hearing her. “I knew Doug wouldn’t like you. He really feels threatened when a guy like you comes along. But you know, I think that’s one reason I was attracted to you in the first place.”
The trail widened a bit, and Steve saw there was open sky above. Steve nudged his horse. “Tracy! Hold up! Stop!”
She didn’t stop.
He came up alongside. There was barely enough room on the
precarious trail for two horses. “Tracy, hold on a second. Now stop!”
“I think you’re a man like other men wish they were, you know what I mean?”
He reached over and grabbed her reins. “Whoooaaa.”
That irritated her. “What are you doing?”
The horses came to a halt. “Hold still now,” he said to the horse and to Tracy.
Now he could see her face to face in the light of a rising moon.
Her uniform was so dirty from her crawl through the old tunnel that any other stain would not have been noticeable—until now.
In the cold moonlight, Steve could see a slick, glistening streak of black emerging through the dried mud, crawling down her shirt from her heart to her waist. The stench was unmistakable.
“Tracy . . .”
She looked down at herself, then brushed the area with her fingertips. The stuff clung to her fingers and as she pulled them away, the slick, putrid substance drew out in drooping black strings. She looked at it in the moonlight, dumbly fascinated.
Shocked, Steve didn’t know what to do. “Tracy . . . are you in pain?”
She smiled, almost playfully. Then she chuckled at him. “No, I’m not in pain. Why should I be?”
He grabbed her shoulder. “Do you see what’s happening, Tracy? You’re not yourself! You’re talking crazy.”
“Just crazy for you.” She giggled.
He tightened his grip on her shoulder, shook her a little, and tried to get her to look him in the eye, but her attention was wandering everywhere else. “No! Now listen to me! Bly was telling me about it. Something happens when you get this mark. You get used to it, and you don’t care anymore!” He wasn’t getting through. “Do you hear me?”
When she finally looked at him, she had a silly, vacant expression. “Nothing’s gonna happen to me, sweetheart! I’ve got you now. I win!” Then she gave a drunken laugh as a new burst of black slime crawled down her chest like tar.
“We’ve got to get you out of here.” He tried to take her horse’s reins.
“No!” she said with the tone of a pouting child, giving him a playful, scolding slap on his hand. He could feel droplets of black ooze spattering his face. “You have to come with me. I got you fair and square!”
The Frank Peretti Collection: The Oath, the Visitation, and Monster Page 43