Found (Lost Town Book Six), page 6
The clapping slowed, and people rushed in to congratulate the happy couple. Summer sensed something was off, but couldn’t put a finger on it. The air seemed to have changed. Maybe it was getting colder as the night wore on, and she had left the fire.
When she checked for Mr. Lawrence in his sentry position, he was gone. Summer scanned the crowd for Caesar, but he wasn’t in sight either.
A single howl cut through the fields.
“Not again.”
7
Lillian Carson sat on the hood of her car, watching the clouds drift by. They seemed aimless, not unlike herself. She had no trajectory, and that was dangerous for someone as driven as she once was. She pulled a pack of cigarettes she’d found hidden under the seat and fished out a stale smoke. The lighter flicked to life, the flame waving in the wind.
“No more analogies,” she told herself, and lit the end and inhaled until it was burning hot. She let out a long exhale, blowing the gray exhaust into the air. That was what her father had always called it. It might be the one thing she’d appreciated about him.
She glanced in the direction of the Wickenhouse farm. It lay a mile to the west, through a dense field of cornstalks that were nearly as tall as Lillian at this point in the season. She briefly pondered what it was like to regrow each year, to experience life from the germination point to harvest, knowing you’d get another crack at it when the dust settled.
A person could change, couldn’t they? She blew an O, but it quickly dissipated with the breeze. Lillian had done awful things, but she’d also helped so many people. Her existence balanced on the extremes, the polar opposites that had her standing on the razor’s edge, constantly threatening to lean one way or the other. Lillian lived in the gray, not unlike the smoke billowing from her lips.
“Now you think you’re a poet?” She laughed, then coughed as she inhaled down the wrong pipe. She’d never had the stomach to be a smoker. Lillian stubbed it on her boot, and made sure it was out before tossing it to the gravel road behind her. The last thing she needed on her resume was burning Carmichael down. Then they really would torch her at the stake.
She didn’t blame John for going tonight, but she wished he could have seen how difficult it was to be the only ostracized resident of Lost Town. Lillian didn’t expect empathy from the rest, but maybe from the guy sharing her bed. It wasn’t his fault. John had a propensity to do stupid things. In that way, they were well matched, though a couple usually needed one person grounded to keep the other from floating into oblivion.
A voice reached her, then a spattering of cheering. So the couple had sprung the news of the forthcoming baby. Another life on Arcadia. If Lillian wasn’t so cynical, she might have been happy for them.
The region grew silent a minute later, and she decided to call it a night.
A woman was on the road, walking toward town, when Lillian slid off the hood. She almost shouted, but didn’t think she was seen.
When a gunshot rang out, Lillian stopped focusing on the midnight hiker and reached into her car to gather the M4. She slung her holster around her shoulder and hopped into the driver’s side.
More gunfire exploded in the direction of the party, and Lillian started the car. If she took the long way around, it might be too late. As the crow flies, it was only a mile. She gritted her teeth and barreled into the cornfields.
Dirt and remnants of stalks battered her windshield as she sped up, cruising blindly to the Wickenhouse property. Her car bounced up and down as she raced within the crops, but she made it in quickly. When she exited the field and rolled into a pasture, she saw the problem. The Howlers had arrived.
Lillian didn’t hesitate. She drove over a pair loping to the crowd. People had dispersed, and many ran toward the house, where Mrs. Wickenhouse directed traffic. Lillian spotted Freddy on the porch with a rifle, picking the animals off as they stalked his guests. The rat-tat-tat of an M4 drew her gaze to the barn, finding Anders perched on the roof. Caesar circled around the tractor and climbed up, killing a Howler as it lurched for him.
She surveyed the scene, deciding where she was best suited, then spied the woman on the grass.
Lillian swung the M4 up, using the scope to check who it was. Belinda Wickenhouse sat still, her hands stretched out. “Damn it.”
Four Howlers crept low in the pasture, their fingered tails giving their position away. Belinda didn’t seem to notice them. She was beside a kid, and Lillian recognized Kong’s daughter Cassie holding her ankle.
“Belinda!” Freddy shouted from the house. “Where are you?”
Lillian couldn’t delay. She marched forward, fully aware a Howler might spring from cover at any second. When she was twenty steps off target, it happened. The beast rammed into her shoulder, nearly knocking the gun loose. Lillian rolled to her side and kicked the Howler in the snapping jaw. Its teeth almost punctured her leather boot, but she wrenched her leg free and found the trigger, blasting a hole in its chest.
Belinda and Cassie were surrounded.
“Not today, mother…” Lillian caught eyes with Belinda, and she gave the woman a curt nod. She motioned for her to drop and take the girl with her. Belinda draped herself protectively over Kong’s daughter, and Lillian shot, keeping her line of fire above the humans. The Howlers were torn apart. A loud horn sounded, and Vince ripped into the field with an airhorn on a motorbike. He chased the scattering Howlers, and shot at the remaining foes while Caesar and Anders retreated to the house, prepared to defend against any stragglers.
“You saved us,” Belinda said, clutching Cassie tightly.
Chun and Kong arrived, the bartender stroking his girl’s hair. “Thank you,” he said to both Lillian and Belinda. “Thank you.” It was like he didn’t know what else to say, so he didn’t. They ventured off with the girl while Freddy approached his pregnant wife.
“Babe, are you okay?” They touched foreheads.
“I’m fine.”
“What in the hell happened here?” Vince asked.
“I can tell you,” Justin announced. “The portable Repulsor was tampered with. Someone unplugged it.”
Caesar gazed at Lillian. “Justin, you’re sure it wasn’t a glitch? I don’t think anyone in Lost Town would sabotage the party.”
John Paulson came over, limping slightly. His cheek had blood on it, and Lillian fought the urge to check on him. Showing tenderness in front of this crowd wouldn’t do either of them any favors, so she stayed put.
“Is anyone hurt?” Anders asked.
“Barney’s scratched,” Daisy said. “But he’ll live.”
“We got very lucky,” Caesar told them when Amelia came, stowing her revolver.
“I’m glad I didn’t ask you guys to park your guns at the door. Jeez.” Freddy blew air through his teeth, finally noticing Lillian. “What are you…”
“She helped us.” Belinda had a hand on her own stomach.
“Yeah?”
Belinda nodded, then motioned to the dead Howlers near their feet. “It wasn’t me that killed them.”
“Thanks.” Freddy turned his attention to Caesar. “Why would the Howlers even attack? We only brought the Repulsor because of the crowd. I actually thought it was even more of a reason for them to stay clear. We haven’t had many issues in the last year.”
“I don’t know, but we’d better find out. I need a head count of guests, and anyone missing,” Amelia announced.
While the crowd dispersed, John pointed at her car. “Nice work.”
“I happened to be driving by,” she said.
“In the cornfields.”
“I got tired of the roads.” Lillian touched his cheek. “You okay?”
“It’s Howler blood.”
“Guess my training’s paying off.” Lillian ensured no one was watching and kissed him quickly.
“Party’s over. Wanna give me a ride home?” John asked.
“I have VIP parking. Should I call for the valet, or can you handle the hike?”
John bent his knee and winced. “It’ll be fine after a good sleep.”
They got to the car, and he slid into the passenger side. She checked the forest for signs of danger before placing the M4 in the back.
Lillian circumvented the pasture, reaching the gravel road rather than returning through the crop. Five minutes later, she parked at John’s, and he waited in the car. “Aren’t you coming in?”
“I figured you’d rather be alone.”
“After that?”
“Nightcap?” She snatched the pack of cigarettes, then tossed it into the backseat. Maybe there still was something worth fighting for.
John smiled, taking her hand. “I have a better idea.”
____________
Amelia accepted the cup of coffee, still shaking because of the excitement two hours ago.
“Who did this?” Logan asked.
They were inside Freddy’s house, seated at their original family table. It had a layer of wax covering the old wooden furniture. Mrs. Wickenhouse was in bed, and they were trying to keep their voices down out of respect.
Caesar sat beside her, with Anders by the fireplace. He added a log, and it sparked and crackled as the bark ignited.
Freddy returned from the hallway, with a somber expression. “Belinda’s not feeling well.”
Amelia prayed the attack hadn’t harmed her baby in any way. “She’ll be fine in the morning.”
“Thanks.” Freddy poured a cup and plopped into the empty chair next to Logan. “Where are we at?”
“Everyone was accounted for after the Howlers dispersed.” Amelia stared at the clipboard with the invited guests' names slashed off.
“Do you mind?” Anders reached for the list, and Amelia moved so he could take it. The operative made a noise when his finger reached the end of the page. “What about Jessica?”
“Who?” Amelia asked.
“The new resident…didn’t I see her?”
“We didn’t invite her,” Freddy assured them. “I don’t think I met anyone by that name, but I was pretty busy playing host.”
“Was she here or not?” Amelia pressed.
“I believe so, but I was focused on security,” Caesar said.
“Someone better check with Jessica later.” Amelia finished her coffee and contemplated a refill. Before she spoke, Caesar took it and came back with a steaming mug.
“Jessica showed up yesterday. She’s volunteering at the library, for God’s sake. Why would she tamper with the Repulsor? Or even know what it did?” Logan asked.
“I doubt she did.” Caesar was quick to defend the newcomer Amelia hadn’t met. “She was in my house and seemed completely normal.”
“What?”
“Yeah, she was filthy and exhausted. I had to let Jessica clean up and I made her lunch,” Caesar said.
“She showered in my bathroom?” Amelia asked.
“Is that a problem? Sorry I didn’t mention it.”
Amelia dismissed her rising anger. There was no reason to be upset with Caesar. “No, you did nothing wrong.”
Anders finally sat. “I spoke to her too. She’s not a threat.”
“What about Lillian?” Freddy added after a few seconds of silence.
“She helped us and saved your wife’s life, if I’m recalling correctly,” Anders said.
“What if she set it up?” Freddy lifted his hands defensively. “Hear me out. Lillian messes with the Repulsor, then speeds through the cornfield to play the hero. She’s trying to get in our good graces.”
“No way,” Caesar said. “She’s a lot of things, but she would never put our people in harm.”
“She has and would,” Freddy blurted.
“Lillian wouldn’t… anymore.” Caesar crossed his arms, punctuating his statement.
“But…”
“It wasn’t her,” Amelia said. She had mixed feelings about Lillian Carson, but acknowledged the woman had changed in the last year.
“Then how did she get here so quickly?” Freddy asked. “And she left in record time.”
“With John,” Logan added.
“Let’s stop this train of thought,” Caesar ordered. “We have no leads. Keep your eyes and ears open. I’ll ask Jessica about her whereabouts and leave Lillian out of this.”
“Yes, sir.” Freddy seemed reluctant, but he lowered his chin.
“Maybe we should reconsider our trip,” Logan said.
“I agree…” Amelia paused when Caesar smiled at them.
“Go visit your father, but please, take the JLTV. No one is going to question your motives, especially after tonight.”
“What do you think?” she asked her half-brother.
“That your husband is right.”
“When are you going?” Freddy asked.
Amelia tried stifling a yawn, but it came regardless. “How about tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow tomorrow, or today tomorrow?” Logan pointed to the clock, which showed it was after two in the morning.
“We’ll get some sleep and go Monday morning. With the JLTV, we can be at Greenbriar by nightfall,” she said.
Freddy led them to the exit, and they stood on the front porch, viewing the mess left behind by the party.
“Let’s give him a hand before we go,” Anders suggested, and they got to work.
Amelia sorted the trash, filling three bags with empty cups and napkins while Caesar and Anders dragged Howler corpses into a pile as far from the animal barn as possible. The horses hid indoors, spooked by the violence and the smell of blood. The cattle lowed in the distance, lucky to have avoided the wrath of the Howlers. Freddy put motion sensor floodlights along their border in case the dangerous beasts returned, but with the Repulsor operating properly, they doubted it would be an issue tonight.
Caesar removed his pair of stained work gloves and gazed at the pile of Howlers. “What do you want to do with them?”
“There was a time I thought we’d have to eat Howler meat to survive,” Freddy said. “Now I’d say we should burn them.”
“Can it wait until tomorrow?” Caesar asked.
“I’ll make a pyre. You guys get some sleep.”
Amelia hugged him and lingered a second. “Congratulations. I’m sorry the party didn’t go as expected.”
“Things rarely do.”
Ten minutes later, they arrived at home, with Logan turning right and them veering left.
It wasn’t long before they lay in bed, Caesar’s strong arms wrapped around her. Moonlight shone into the window, and Amelia stared at it while trying to drift off. Someone had sabotaged the Repulsor and could have caused havoc in their town. Amelia might not be a deputy with the Jackson County Sheriff’s Department any longer, but she’d sure as hell find out who did it.
8
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of ‘em.” Trent winked at Helen.
“Steve, maybe we should reconsider,” Candace told her husband.
“We’ve been through this. They’re already behind in school. This will be a good thing for everyone, I promise,” he said.
The girls stood before their parents, arms at their sides. Summer felt strange, because she knew how much she’d miss them and Lost Town, but she was also eager for a new experience. After a year of solitude on Arcadia, she and her best friend were both ready for a change. Joe punched Carly in the arm, then hugged his sister.
“It’s fine, Mom and Dad. We’ll write every two weeks, and visit for the holidays,” Summer said.
Candace pulled her in tight and squeezed the air out of her lungs. Her lips left a wet spot on Summer’s brow, and she wiped it off with her hoodie sleeve. It was warm out, and she knew the sun would be relentless on their wagon ride north to Wayward. The nights were chilly though.
Summer had a suitcase with a few outfits. She’d left anything from her childhood behind, choosing to act like the adult she almost was.
“Do you have your guns?” Anders asked.
She tried to imagine Mr. Lawrence saying that very thing two years earlier and smiled at him. “I’ll miss you.”
Anders hugged Summer. “Don’t let her out of your sight.”
“My word is my bond.” Summer curtsied, and Carly’s dad frowned.
“I’m serious.”
“Don’t give her that added pressure,” Steve said.
Anders glared at him, and Summer’s dad shrank back.
“I’ve done stuff too!” Carly proclaimed. “You always look at Summer like she’s the superhero, but I can be one as well.”
“I’m here!” Haley Paulson rode up on a beautiful horse. It was a white mare with grey speckles along her legs. She wore a cowboy hat, and had a rifle slung over her back.
“You’re right on time.” Trent leaned over the railing of his perch at the front of the wagon and kissed her.
“Do what they say,” Anders ordered. “Give Haley the same respect you would me.”
“You mean listen, then ignore everything?” Carly murmured with a smile.
“I’m serious. There are a lot of dangers between Lost Town and Wayward.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Summer had heard the stories about Albert and the doll he called Cora. It turned out his sister had visited Lithos years earlier and had gone raving mad. She was held in the barn for her own protection, but had escaped during a horrible storm, nearly killing Amelia in the process.
Then everyone knew about the Sarkafagos they’d encountered at an abandoned Italian church. Summer wondered how far it would be from their path to Wayward, and what the chances of seeing a cannibal were.
The wagon was twenty feet long and carried an assortment of supplies. It was mostly empty crates Lost Town used to haul produce back on their bimonthly trade runs. Summer removed the lid on the nearest box, finding spools of yarn, and milled flour in another. Lost Town needed to produce items of value so the other communities would continue to trade with them. As her father loved mentioning, capitalism prevailed, even on Arcadia.
Summer climbed closer to the front of the wagon, taking an empty bench behind Trent. The wooden seat had a belt to secure around the waist, and a cushion for comfort.
The pair of horses leading the wagon were thick and shaggy, nothing like the lithe beast Haley was mounted on. She went ahead, and they followed.
