All the Wicked Girls

by Chris Whitaker

  They picked up Purv ’cause he’d made a run into Ginny’s, then they drove the Buick to Highway 125 ’cause they wouldn’t risk driving the Deamer tracks.

  They pulled off where there weren’t a road, just bumping along the grass and dirt and praying the wheels wouldn’t come off.

  Raine pulled the gun from her bag and she checked it was loaded. They had a couple bottles of water, a box of Minute Maid Juice Bars, a pack of Twinkies, and a bottle of Budweiser.

  “Good haul,” Noah said. “Nutritious.”

  Purv applied war paint to himself and Noah.

  “Your turn, Raine.”

  She flipped him off.

  “It’s Deamer land. You wanna get shot?”

  She sat on an oak root and Purv kneeled in the leaves and streaked her face with black and green and brown till all that was clear was the white of her eyes.

  *

  Jimmy King arrived to a sleeping square. He was beat; he spent his days out driving from place to place, looking for his daughter and the Bird and passing troopers doing the same. Sometimes he’d draw up and he’d see the way they looked at him from beneath their campaigns, like they were looking at a man who wouldn’t ever see his little girl again.

  He stood a moment, watched the sea of people dozing, placards and bottles and burger wrappers strewn.

  Joe walked over and they shook hands.

  “Got your call,” Jimmy said.

  “Still nothin’ on Amber?”

  “Gone like a ghost. They still holdin’ that man for Summer?”

  Joe nodded.

  “Man messin’ with children,” Jimmy said, then he spit on the grass. “I’m here, whatever you need, Joe.”

  “I was waitin’ on the storm but I’m starting to think it ain’t comin’.”

  “So what are you thinkin’?” Jimmy said.

  “You still handy with a rifle?”

  *

  They hiked for two straight hours, following Raine, who held the map and compass. They zigzagged in and outta Grace, passing from dark to early-morning light, from cool to climbing heat. They crossed a rusted water pipe that rose a foot over a backwater, arms out for balance. It was tough going and Raine checked Noah was all right a couple times.

  They stopped and drank water and in the distance they saw the haze of woodsmoke rising from the forest. They were taught young about forest fires and how fast they could turn.

  “It’s dark smoke, flames gone out,” Purv said.

  Raine nodded and they moved on.

  It was noon when they saw the first snare. The first sign they’d made it to Deamer land. Noah glanced around nervous, half expecting to have a sight trained on him.

  They moved slow, past a couple trees with markings painted on them, a couple had the number nine carved deep in the trunks.

  “What are they?” Noah said.

  “Maybe to keep track of the border, let people know to turn back or they’ll get shot,” Purv said.

  Raine moved on. She carried her bag on her back, only stopping for water. Her calves were red, burned by the sun behind. She wore a white T-shirt, mucky with dirt and sweat, her hair tied back and swinging.

  They moved farther from the dark wall till they could make it out only when the trees thinned. They helped each other over a fallen tree, then up a steep track weaving through dense brush.

  They reached another bank, though Raine didn’t wait for them this time. Noah watched her climb, lose her footing once, then grab hold of a root and pull herself to the top. She ducked low, dropped to her stomach, and waved them down. Noah and Purv crouched, hearts racing.

  They didn’t dare move, unsure of what Raine had seen and not exactly keen to find out. It went this way a couple of times before. Raine would stop still and they’d feel the adventure drain right outta them, the fear that replaced it so heavy they couldn’t feel their feet no more.

  *

  “Same old shit,” Milk said, looking at the line of cars and the people spilling from them. There was a couple of buses too, shipping in folk from all over and making out nicely from it.

  Trix had taken the call, diverted them as they were headed back from the King house where they’d been since early morning for no other reason than to tell Jessie-Pearle they were all on it.

  Milk rolled the window down when the Kinley boy walked over, his pockets bulging with bills but his face stern and serious. Money flowed to the Kinleys like water ran the Red.

  “You seen smoke?” Milk said.

  The Kinley boy pointed east, toward Hell’s Gate. “Twenty minutes back.”

  “Best check it out,” Black said.

  They drove half a mile across Kinley land till they pulled up close to Hell’s Gate.

  Ten minutes in they were nearing the Grace line, loping back toward the dark.

  “Ain’t got the flashlight,” Milk said.

  “I’ll go,” Black said, heading back while Milk leaned against a tree and stuck an arm through the dark wall.

  It was as Black opened the door to the cruiser that he heard the shot. It cracked, an echo, maybe some birds flew high, he couldn’t be sure ’cause he had his head down and was running, gun drawn.

  *

  “You hear that?” Noah said. “Sounded like a gunshot.”

  “Hunters,” Purv said.

  Fifteen minutes passed before Raine slowly slid down the bank and crept over to them. She wiped sweat from her face, war paint colored her hand.

  “What is it?” Noah said.

  “Might be a blind.”

  They kept to a whisper, huddled close.

  “Anyone in it?”

  “Can’t tell. But I ain’t keen on walkin’ right in front of it. It don’t look right, not like the kind my uncle builds. Looks too solid.”

  “Maybe it’s for storage,” Purv said.

  “Way out here in the woods?” Raine said. “It don’t feel right. We’re at least a mile from the road . . .”

  “I heard the Deamers are strange,” Purv said. “Rituals and shit.”

  “Lot of bullshit said about the Deamers,” Noah said.

  “So what do we do now?” Purv said.

  “Watch it awhile. We can hide out at the top, stay by the bank and keep low, see if anyone comes. Black will be headin’ in soon.”

  *

  Milk pulled Black down to the leaves.

  “Where?” Black said.

  Milk pointed to a hole in a tree, maybe a foot from where his head was.

  They heard a burst of gunfire.

  “Shit,” Black said.

  Black got up to a kneel, tried to peer round when a second shot whistled by his head and struck the oak behind him. He fell back.

  “They got the jump on us,” Milk said. “And they’re in the Grace dark so it don’t look good.”

  “Who?”

  “Ain’t sure. More than one I reckon.”

  Another burst of fire and they kept low.

  “The Kinley boy will call Trix, that much noise. They’ll send everyone we got. We just need to hole up till then.”

  Black nodded. “We’re too open here. There’s a drop over there.” He nodded toward a cluster of bushes. “We get behind it and we got a better chance.”

  Milk moved first, careful, raising his gun and keeping low. Black followed. Another shot just left of them, hit that same oak. Milk fired back and Black’s ears were ringing.

  “Shit, Milk,” was all he could manage when another shot kicked the leaves up near his foot.

  “Did you get a look?”

  Milk shook his head, sweat dripping from his nose.

  Black breathed hard; he’d caught his head on a branch and blood was rolling down into his eyes. There weren’t no room for anger, the fear all consuming.

  “You all right?” Milk said.

  Black waved him off. “I reckon there’s four of ’em.”

  “Bad odds, Black.”

  “Bad odds.”

  Black dabbed the blood away wit
h his sleeve, watched it turn red, then looked up at the sky. The line of shadow rose so high. They listened to forest noise till they calmed.

  “I’m thinkin’ it ain’t leavin’ now, this cloud,” Milk said. “I’m thinkin’ we’ll have to move the town.”

  “Move it?”

  “The whole town. Rebuild, maybe in Windale. ”

  “How about Maidenville?”

  Milk smiled. “You reckon they’ll have us?”

  Another shot struck the same oak, an inch from the last.

  “Jesus,” Milk said.

  “It’ll be all right.”

  Milk closed his eyes.

  “Go,” Black said. “I’ll cover.”

  Milk shook his head.

  “You got family,” Black said, and then he stood quick and pushed Milk and started firing.

  *

  Joe watched them leave. Three cruisers, lights flashing and sirens blazing, a couple news vans in pursuit too.

  His crew moved so fast the church side didn’t know what was going down.

  Joe held a gun but kept it by his side. He didn’t want to raise on nobody unless he had to.

  There was a couple deputies, they dropped their guns easy. They were Ernie’s and not about to get shot over Grace mess.

  “Time’s up,” Joe said.

  Trix looked nervous but Joe knew she weren’t the kind to lie down. He sent Austin Ray Chalmers over to cuff her, which he did gently, then sat her down on her chair behind the desk. They locked the door behind them.

  “Keys,” Joe said.

  “Joe,” Trix said. “This ain’t helpin’, you’ll get yourself into real trouble. Black’s doin’ all he can, believe me. Please, Joe. Think about Raine, she needs you now.”

  Joe nodded at Tommy, who trained his gun on one of Ernie’s boys.

  “Keys,” Joe said.

  *

  They moved slow, each step measured and quiet. They heard more gunshots in the distance.

  They helped each other up the bank then lay flat on their stomachs. The heat was cloying and brutal, a hundred degrees easy. They were twenty feet from the blind and Raine was right that it didn’t fit. The sights were too small, like they’d been added for effect. Brown paint had been splashed over it, and leaves piled at the base of each wall.

  “See the door?” Noah whispered.

  Raine nodded.

  The door was steel.

  Purv glanced at them. “If they find us here –”

  “We got a gun,” Noah said.

  “Yeah, and what do you reckon the Deamers got?”

  They sat quiet, nothing to watch but a couple white-tails passing by. Purv opened the beer silently, passed it to Raine and she sipped slowly.

  As she went to pass it back Noah held out a hand and they fell dead silent.

  They heard steps, heavy steps, and they saw birds fly up and out, making way.

  It was a minute or so before they saw him.

  He was giant big, wearing a suit of leaves and feathers and looking like some kinda monster. He walked slow, his shoulders hunched.

  Noah hadn’t never seen a bigger man in his life.

  He had a rifle slung over his arm and a hunting knife on his belt and when he glanced in their direction they stopped breathing.

  He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the steel door. They watched him walk in, the relief giving way to blind terror when they heard a cry as the door clicked shut behind him.

  Fear dropped so heavy over Purv that his hands began to shake, then his legs. He swallowed hard, then opened his mouth wide and gulped air down.

  Raine made to get up but Noah grabbed hold of her wrist and pulled her down.

  “He might be watchin’ out the sight,” Noah said.

  Raine settled beside him, then reached for her bag and grabbed hold of the gun.

  “The Bird,” Purv said, his voice catching. “It’s the fuckin’ Bird.”

  Noah swallowed. “What do we do?”

  “We wait,” Purv said, pleading. “We wait for Black and the cops ’cause that’s the only move there is. It ain’t a joke, he’ll kill us dead.”

  They looked up as the door opened again and the Bird reappeared.

  Raine moved fast, too fast for Noah to stop her.

  She ran across the leaves, the gun trained out in front of her.

  Noah and Purv were up and following.

  “Don’t move,” she said.

  The Bird turned slow, dropped his gaze to Raine, and smiled.

  He had a face full of scars, the worst running the whole way round his left eye, like someone had tried to take it out. Thick hair covered the backs of his hands. He glanced over at Purv and Noah, then back to Raine.

  “Give me the keys,” she said. “And drop the rifle. I’ll shoot you, don’t think I won’t.”

  “I’m bulletproof,” he said, his voice slow and so deep it didn’t sound real.

  “We’ll find out,” Raine said. “The keys, toss ’em over to the boys.”

  “You’re pretty,” he said. “An angel. You come to take me up?” He glanced at Noah, then back to Raine. “Or maybe you’ll stay down and run with the heathens.”

  She took a step forward. “Give me the fuckin’ keys.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to see inside.”

  “You can look inside of me. Take out my rib; make me another of you I can keep awhile.”

  She gripped the gun tight and raised it higher, aiming at his face.

  He dropped the keys and kicked them toward Noah.

  “Over there,” she said.

  The Bird walked slow and settled back against an oak, still smiling at Raine.

  “Unlock the door, Noah,” she said.

  Noah walked over to the hide, struggled for a moment with the lock then heard it give. Purv was standing still, his eyes locked on the Bird like he was watching a ghost.

  The door swung open.

  Noah peered into the dark and listened.

  “You’ll have nightmares, boy,” the Bird said. “Eyes like yours. There’s demons down there. They’ll rob your soul before you get a taste of what’s next.”

  Noah stared at the Bird.

  “Go on, boy. Leave. Come back once you’re prepared. The son of man is comin’ at an hour you don’t expect. But I’m ready. I been ready.”

  Noah wanted to run but he thought of Summer and beat back his nerves.

  “We’re fierce,” Raine called. “We’re fuckin’ brave and we’re fierce.”

  He heard fear there, but anger driving it back.

  It was dark inside, the air so hot and heavy it dragged on him. There was a small table and a stack of rifles on a rack in the corner. He tried a light switch but it didn’t work.

  He heard the Bird laughing outside. He took another step, felt a board give beneath. He spun, sweating and panicked.

  There was an old rug on the floor, dirty and stained. He dragged it back, knelt, pulled up a loose board, then another and another. And then he saw the steps.

  Sunlight streamed through the door.

  The steps were wood. He took them slow, ducking his head.

  It was big down there, dug out high and wide. He held his father’s badge tight, his thumb tracing the eagle.

  The smell was strong; he brought a hand to his nose. He stood in the center of the room, fear kept his breaths quick and shallow. It took a while for his eyes to adjust and when they did he saw her. In the corner, curled away from him, on a low camp bed.

  “Summer?” he said.

  She spun, stood, and stared at him. She took a step, he heard the chain, clamped tight around her ankle. She wore a shirt, maybe the Bird’s ’cause it swamped her. Her hair was dirty blond, greasy and long. She was barefoot and bleeding from a fresh cut on her knee.

  “It’s all right,” he said. “We’ll get you out.”

  She grabbed him tight, so tight he couldn’t breathe.

  “Where is he?” she said, trembling.r />
  “Outside. Don’t worry, we got a gun on him.”

  “He’ll kill you.” She cried, a quick painful cry that came out raw.

  He tried to calm her; she wouldn’t let go of him.

  “Is there anyone else?” he said.

  “There ain’t no one else. It’s just him.”

  He reached for the keys, knelt down, and undid the lock. Her skin was torn beneath the cuff.

  She hung on him as they crossed the dirt floor. He held her as they climbed the steps. She squinted hard, a hand over her eyes.

  She stopped for a moment, held her face in her hands and palmed her tears away.

  “What’s your name?” he said.

  “Amber King.” Her voice was dried out.

  They walked out slow and careful. Raine looked over quick, then back to the Bird. He was still smiling, watching Amber and smiling.

  “Don’t look at him,” Noah said.

  Raine spit in his direction.

  A flash of something lit his eyes.

  “This is Amber,” Noah said.

  “Amber King,” Purv said.

  Amber nodded, her shoulders up and her head low. Noah took the chance to look at her in the light. Her lower lip was puffy, each eye blackened but healing. Her arms and legs were a mess of cuts and bruises. She was still holding Noah, a hand tight in his.

  “There anybody else in there?” Raine said.

  “No.”

  “There was,” Amber said. “He said I weren’t the first.”

  Amber doubled over, retched, and puked. Purv gave her a bottle of water.

  Noah watched the Bird careful, the way he breathed nice and slow, the way he clenched his fists and looked Raine up and down.

  “I don’t like this,” he said. “We need to get Amber back, get Black and Milk –”

  “We will,” Raine said.

  Noah glanced at Purv.

  “Y’all from Grace. Then you know about it. What’s comin’ down. Ain’t God but somethin’ purer. You heard the draggin’ chains. Hydra’s watchin’ –”

  “Did you take my sister?” A tear rolled down Raine’s cheek, cutting a clean line in the paint.

  “I took my own sister, hung her up and gave her over.”

  “Her name is Summer Ryan.”

  “Her name was Mandy Deamer.”

  Noah stared at him. “Mandy Deamer killed herself.”

  “My hand or hers, the thief comes only to steal and destroy.” He laughed loud then he glanced at Amber. “You think you’re a butterfly in the light.” Then he turned back to Raine. “Tormenting storms mean she can’t fly, her wings ain’t strong enough.” He laughed again.