The Southern Watch Series, Books 1-3: Called, Depths and Corrupted
Page 86
“Why not?” Arch looked up at the two-story house. “They’re gonna come after us for a lot more than that if they can.”
“You really think they’re gonna be able to prove anything?” Hendricks asked. “No bodies, no witnesses that can put together a cogent explanation of what they saw, nothing but a lot of bullets fired, mayhem caused, and demons slain. They ain’t got shit.”
“Oh, they’ve got bodies,” Arch said, taking in the lines of the house. The siding didn’t look bad at all. He let his gaze drift to the main reason he’d chosen this place; there was a manual pump in the yard, no electricity needed. “No bodies we caused, but they’ve got bodies. And a whole town of people looking for someone to blame.”
“And your sheriff’s gonna make us the scapegoats,” Hendricks said. “Lovely.”
“We’re the most convenient targets,” Alison said. “It’s not like we have a reasonable explanation for what we’ve done.”
Hendricks gave her a sidelong glance that Arch caught. “‘We,’ huh?”
Alison did not look back at him, her gaze instead transfixed on the house. Her finger came up to point at the porch. “We.”
Arch followed the line of her finger and found the shape waiting for them under the eaves, in the shadows. The pale skin slipped out into the moonlight just as the car’s lights hit their automatic shut off. He saw the dusky eyes, somehow, in the dark, and the red hair still seemed to glow, like a fire burned within each strand.
“Somehow,” Hendricks said, “I’m not surprised to find her waiting here.”
“Feels like you should be,” Duncan said, “since none of the rest of us knew we were coming here until just now.”
“Arch knew,” Hendricks said, but low, like he was trying to keep her from hearing it. “How’d you know where to find us, Starling?”
“You were always destined to be here,” Starling said, bare feet slipping down the squeaking, warped wooden stairs as she stepped out to greet them, with as close to an approachable look as Arch had ever seen on her forbidding face. “Welcome home.” He had a sense there was more to it than that, and she beckoned them forward toward the door.
Hendricks went first, coaxed by her, then Alison. Arch followed next, with only a single backward glance for Duncan, whose face—usually so carefully neutral—now burned with some rage barely concealed beneath the surface. He followed, too, last in line, and they went, one by one, into the farmhouse, following the redhead's lead.
***
“Erin.”
The words pushed into her mind, into her ear, like something sharp against spandex. It was rude, it was not pleasant, and she wanted to resist.
“Erin, wake up.”
Erin Harris most assuredly did not care for that suggestion, not even as gently as it was worded, not with sugar on top, pretty please, not at all.
“Erin, I need you to wake up.”
Erin had been awake and had not cared for it; she’d awakened earlier in the evening, seen her family—mom, pop, three brothers—the whole family, wagons circled for this special crisis occasion. She was dimly aware of that. But visiting hours had ended, and that lovely narcotic drowse that had been calling her name? She’d willingly, happily succumbed to it, running back into the darkness with arms (and more) spread, ready to hump that motherfucker all night.
“Erin.”
One eye cracked open. The world was a blur, Vaseline smeared on the lens of the camera.
“Erin … can you hear me?”
“Mmmm … awaaaaaake.” Her own words were slurred, dragged, drawled, dropped on their heads as babies.
“Good. Can you open both eyes for me?”
Erin did and didn’t like that, either. Because then the goddamned bitch shined a spotlight in her eyes. The world was a cold, lonely, and evil place. Fuck it. She closed her eyes again.
“Your pupils are reactive and undilated. That’s a good sign.”
You know what else was a good sign? Slippery when wet. That one always made Erin chuckle.
“Erin.”
She opened her eyes again. No bright light this time. No signs, though. Just a face. Framed by dark hair. Long, dark hair. Feminine. Pretty, really. Enough that Erin felt a trace of envy. Doctor … What was her name? Dr. Dolittle. No.
Dr. Darlington.
Yes.
That was it.
“Dr. Darlington.” Erin’s mouth felt heavy, swabbed with cotton and someone left it in there when they were done. Now it was all dried out and icky, and no matter how much she smacked her lips together, it didn’t help.
“Very good, Erin. You’ve had some painkillers, so I know you’re probably feeling a little—”
“Fuck yeaaaaah, awesome.” Slurred. Just a little.
“That’s good.” The doctor’s face came into view. She looked good. Rosy cheeks. Really rosy. Like she probably ran or something. Good circulation. That was what made rosy cheeks, right? Or angel kisses? Was that bullshit or the real deal? “Erin, I need you to tell me something.”
“What’s up, Doc?” She blinked her eyes, and the doctor’s face swam into view. Serious. Earnest. Erin blinked again, and she was still there. The world felt sharp but draggy, and Erin didn’t mind. Like she was drunk, but better, because she hadn’t had to consume approximately OH MY GOD, MY WALLET IS EMPTY, WHAT IS THIS BULLSHIT? beers to get there.
“I need you to tell me something, Erin.” The voice was so smooth. So nice. Not like the light shining. That was not nice. Not smooth. That was bullshit, that was. “I need you to answer a question for me.”
“Shoot.” Me up with morphine. Hehe. Yes. Fuck yes. MORE-phine. She had it. Lots of it.
“I need you to tell me everything you know … about demons.”
Return to Midian, Tennessee in
UNEARTHED
Southern Watch
Book 4
Available Now!
Author's Note
First off, if you want to know when future books become available, take sixty seconds and sign up for my NEW RELEASE EMAIL ALERTS by CLICKING HERE. Don't let the caps lock scare you; I don't sell your information and I only send out emails when I have a new book out. The reason you should sign up for this is because I don't like to set release dates (it's this whole thing, you can find an answer on my website in the FAQ section), and even if you're following me on Facebook (robertJcrane (Author)) or Twitter (@robertJcrane), it's easy to miss my book announcements because…well, because social media is an imprecise thing.
Come join the Southern Watch discussion on my website: http://www.robertjcrane.com !
Cheers,
Robert J. Crane
Other Works by Robert J. Crane
The Sanctuary Series
Epic Fantasy
Defender: The Sanctuary Series, Volume One
Avenger: The Sanctuary Series, Volume Two
Champion: The Sanctuary Series, Volume Three
Crusader: The Sanctuary Series, Volume Four
Sanctuary Tales, Volume One - A Short Story Collection
Thy Father's Shadow: The Sanctuary Series, Volume 4.5
Master: The Sanctuary Series, Volume Five
Fated in Darkness: The Sanctuary Series, Volume 5.5
Warlord: The Sanctuary Series, Volume Six
Heretic: The Sanctuary Series, Volume Seven
Legend: The Sanctuary Series, Volume Eight* (Coming June 14, 2016!)
The Girl in the Box
and
Out of the Box
Contemporary Urban Fantasy
Alone: The Girl in the Box, Book 1
Untouched: The Girl in the Box, Book 2
Soulless: The Girl in the Box, Book 3
Family: The Girl in the Box, Book 4
Omega: The Girl in the Box, Book 5
Broken: The Girl in the Box, Book 6
Enemies: The Girl in the Box, Book 7
Legacy: The Girl in the Box, Book 8
Destiny: The Girl in the Box, Book 9
; Power: The Girl in the Box, Book 10
Limitless: Out of the Box, Book 1
In the Wind: Out of the Box, Book 2
Ruthless: Out of the Box, Book 3
Grounded: Out of the Box, Book 4
Tormented: Out of the Box, Book 5
Vengeful: Out of the Box, Book 6
Sea Change: Out of the Box, Book 7
Painkiller: Out of the Box, Book 8* (Coming April 12, 2016!)
Masks: Out of the Box, Book 9* (Coming July 12, 2016!)
Prisoners: Out of the Box, Book 10* (Coming September 27, 2016!)
Southern Watch
Contemporary Urban Fantasy
Called: Southern Watch, Book 1
Depths: Southern Watch, Book 2
Corrupted: Southern Watch, Book 3
Unearthed: Southern Watch, Book 4
Legion: Southern Watch, Book 5* (Coming May 10, 2016!)
Starling: Southern Watch, Book 6* (Coming Late 2016!)
*Forthcoming and subject to change
Acknowledgments
Called
These were the people who helped me launch this new series:
Shannon Garza, who signed on with enthusiasm to assist in the beginning, when all I had was a mission statement. Thanks for believing in me, Red.
Carien Keevey, who watched Justified before reading this and didn't draw but maybe one comparison between my boy Hendricks and Raylan Givens. I'm sure reading this southern-ish dialect stuff wasn't easy for her, but she made it through somehow.
Heather Rodefer was buried under mountains of things to edit and real-life emergencies, yet still found time to get through this for me, and for that I am grateful. She's always my beta editor-in-chief.
Jerod Heck gave me a read-through that included everything I needed to make sure Hendricks sounded like a real Marine, not a lazy writer behind a desk. Much thanks, dude. I'll have a Leinie's in your honor later. (Bwahahaha!)
David Leach took an early look at the manuscript and made sure I didn't eff things up too bad. David's been a great sounding board on this and the Sanctuary Series, and to him I owe great thanks.
My Uncle Larry and Aunt Rita let me bring one of my kids down to spend time on their farm while I started the first draft of this manuscript. Thanks to them I got a ridiculous amount of writing done while still having a lot of fun.
My Grandparents also let me come to visit them to write part of this, while bringing my same pre-schooler destruction crew with me, and I similarly got a lot done. Thanks to them for the help.
Sarah Barbour has got to be one of the longest-suffering souls in this business. She gets to see the mess of my manuscripts after I've already rejected an abundant number of changes from my beta readers. She gets through them with a steely eye toward the details, though, and I'm always amazed at the things she catches. Also, she recommended I describe Hendricks's coat as a "duster," figuring you'd all know what that means, but I totally rejected that change. Google "drover coat," you'll be fine.
My thanks as always to Karri Klawiter for her efforts on the cover, as always. She's such a joy to work with.
To my parents, especially, who accompanied me during much of my travels while writing this book so they could provide babysitting, and to my wife who remained at home to manage the fort, I owe my thanks. Also, to my kids, for making sure I have a little fun every day.
Depths
First thanks goes out to all who helped make the launch of Called: Southern Watch #1 in the Sinners & Sorcerers boxed set so successful. In no particular order, I owe gratitude to the great Daniel Arenson, Scott Nicholson, J.R. Rain and Phoenix Sullivan, who managed the whole thing with the professionalism and aplomb.
I owe the greatest debt to my friend S.M. Reine, without whom this series would not even be seeing the light of day until 2015. She convinced me to speed things up and gave me a damned good reason to do so, and for that - and much more - I owe her my thanks.
Gratitude also goes to Jerod Heck and David Leach, who read through the book in its first draft form to help me pin down major screwups. Thanks, guys.
Karri Klawiter once more did the cover, and she deserves extra mention this time for doing a second round cover on Called (which she totally knocked out of the park!).
Sarah Barbour pulled editing duty on this particular work, and gave me perhaps the greatest compliment of my professional career after remarking that the Gideon scenes were so disturbing she felt like she needed to shower afterward.
Nick Ambrose came out of retirement to format this book on extremely short notice. I'm dedicating Girl in the Box #9 to him, but he deserves extra special mention for this, too, because he's just such a standup guy. Without Nick, my publishing career would not be where it is today, and for that he has my thanks.
In the last roundup, thanks to my mom and dad as well as my wife and kids. 'Nuff said.
Corrupted
(In Order of Appearance)
Karri Klawiter – Cover Artist
Nicolette Solomita – First reader/Verifier that the book was not crap
Jerod Heck – Marine Realism Consultant
Sarah Barbour – Editor
Jeff Bryan – Proofreader
Jo Evans – Error Catcher
My parents – Edifiers
My kids – Exercisers
My wife – Aid and comfort.
No authors were harmed during the writing of this novel. Well…okay, maybe just one.