Beware the Wild (27 page)

“It means we have a weapon,” I say, feeling something like hope start to stir in my chest. “It means I'm going after them. Phin, Abigail, the sheriff. I'm going to bring them all home.”

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

..................................................................

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

..................................................................

“
THIS IS VERY SIMPLE
.” L
ENORA
May stands with her arms crossed over her chest, trying to look determined. “We have no idea if Candy's strong enough to withstand Fisher's magic.”

For the sake of guaranteed privacy, we've moved our discussion to the Lillard House. The dusty floor in front of Lenora May reflects her worry in a path of footprints. She's always been a pacer.

“I can't let you take this risk. Any of you. Too many people have already suffered.” Lenora May tries to keep her voice solid and steady, but it quivers noticeably. “I will
return to Fisher and take Phin's place. I really don't understand why we're debating this point.”

She wants us to take her at her word, but I remember how happy she's been in the past days. How free and excited she was to be living life like any other girl. And I've seen how longingly she gazes at the letter from Tulane announcing her acceptance and scholarship. To keep from confessing any of this, she paces with her eyes trained on the floor.

“Because,” I say again, “we can't trust Fisher to do what he says. There's no telling what he'll do once he has you, but I'm willing to bet ‘Free Phineas' isn't high on his list.”

“That also seems simple,” Candy states. “Can't trust a liar, a thief, or a swamp thing who's killed to make a point. That's always true in the stories. ‘The Mud-Mouthed Woman' was a filthy liar. She'd say anything to get you into the swamp. Then she'd eat your feet so you couldn't ever leave.”

“Jezuz,” shoots Heath. “That's sick.”

Candy shrugs and muses, “Makes sense if you think about it,” winning a sharp look from Heath.

She may be a little drunk, but having Candy to back me up on this point might be the most miraculous thing that's happened in this town since Featherhead Fred wrestled the alligator that took up residence in the primary school playground. I didn't see that with my own eyes, but the story is generally accepted to be fact, if slightly embellished here and there.

“But there's no other way!” Lenora May cries. “We don't know if those peaches will work or not and even if they will, there's no way to get close to Phin unless I'm in the picture.”

“If there wasn't a possibility that the peaches would work, why did they make Fisher so angry? Besides, you
will
be in the picture.” I'm not willing to give up, not when we have a possible solution and four brains between us. “You just won't be a sacrifice.”

“A decoy,” Heath murmurs. His voice is thick with emotion. He hasn't added much to the discussion, but he hasn't abandoned us, either. It's selfish, but I dare to hope he doesn't hate me completely.

I say, “Exactly. Lenora May can go to the fence and call Fisher. He's bound to come. Then all you have to do is keep him distracted long enough for me to get to Phineas, feed him—and whoever else I can find—a peach, and get everyone out.”

Lenora May frowns, pretty as a posy, and kneels on the ground. She's tense, unwilling or unable to relax around this topic of conversation—her life, her future, her humanity—they're all at stake, so I can't blame her.

“I don't mean to be difficult, really I don't, but I doubt that I'll be enough of a distraction. Fisher is connected to every single thing in that swamp.” She chews her bottom lip, searching for the best way to say what comes next. I'm afraid she's about to expose me and tell everyone I'm not seeing Shine the same way I was, but she's more concerned with Fisher. “He's not the same person he was when we entered because there is so little of him left that isn't blended with magic. I think that in some ways he
is
Shine. I don't see how I could possibly distract him enough on my own.”

“Then you won't be alone,” I say.

I look at Heath, hoping he'll catch my meaning. He does. And if it were a baseball, he'd have dropped it.

“No.” Heath's voice is suddenly substantial again. With his hands braced on his thighs, his shoulders are boxy and formidable. “You can't keep doing this, Sterling.”

“What?” I say, surprised by the anger in his voice. “Trying to save my brother?”

“Thinking you have to do it
alone
. Candy can stay with her.” He nearly growls and takes my hand in his. “I'm going with you.”

The urge to accept this offer and let him take care of me is so strong, but I have to be stronger. If I'd been stronger before, I'd have waited for him. We would have gone into the swamp together and things might be different now. I shake my head, squishing the needy part of myself like a beetle.

“No, I need Candy with me. She's the best shot we have at deflecting Fisher's magic, if it comes to that. And—” I hesitate. No one's going to like this part of the plan. “There's a good reason for you to stay with Lenora May.”

The frown on his face relaxes into curiosity. “What?”

I squeeze his hand and swallow my sadness. “Nathan.”

His expression goes slack as an old man's. But I don't have to say anything else. He nods, understanding so much when I've said so little. I wonder if we'll understand each other this well when the swamp isn't what connects us, and for a moment I panic.
What happens when all this ends and we go back to a life that doesn't revolve around the swamp?
Because one way or another, this ends at midnight and that means something for me and Heath. I just don't know what it is.

He says, “You want me to convince Fisher that I'm a threat. That I'll do anything to get revenge for killing my friend. That I'll . . . that I'll hurt Lenora May.” His eyes are as flat as his voice. “Okay. I can do that.”

“That could work,” Lenora May murmurs. “But it'll have to be convincing. He has to believe you really mean me harm.”

“Fisher killed my best friend,” Heath states, but his shoulders fall a little. “I can be
convincing.”

Lenora May leans in, resting a hand on his arm. Her eyes are focused on his, hard and insistent. “Good. Then hit me.”

“What?” Heath jumps to his feet and backpedals.

I knew it was coming, but I didn't expect Lenora May would suggest it herself.

“Hit me,” she repeats, climbing to her feet. She inches forward, careful not to spook Heath. “If he sees blood on my face, he won't be able to think straight, and Sterling and Candy will have more time to do what they need to.”

Heath's fingers curl into a fist and for a moment I'm afraid he'll actually do it, but he shakes his head. “No, no way. I'm not hitting you. Hell, no. I'm not that sort of guy.”

My relief is short lived. Lenora May turns to me next. “All right, then. You do it. Surely Phin has taught you to throw a decent punch.”

It's true. Phin taught me to throw a punch without breaking my hand or spraining my wrist, but I've never done it for real. He looked so much like our dad when he was in the thick of a fight. The sight made my skin crawl.

She reads the hesitation on my face as clearly as if it were a stop sign. “Come on, Sterling. Hit me as hard as you wanted to a week ago, when all this started.”

I may have relished the thought of knocking her into next week, but my arms fill with lead and won't be moved. If I tried to swing a fist right now, I'd probably have a better chance of tickling her than drawing blood.

“What would y'all do without me?” Candy quips, stepping in with her fists raised. “Ready, May?”

Before Lenora May can answer, Candy's fist connects with the side of her face. Lenora May yelps and when she raises her head again, there's blood falling from the corner of her mouth. She nods and Candy throws another punch, leaving a mottled bruise of red and white on Lenora May's cheekbone.

“Jezuz,” Heath heaves.

Candy runs a thumb across Lenora May's mouth, pulling a blood smear down her chin. Then she grabs Heath by the wrist and dabs blood on his knuckles. Heath looks faint at the sight or the implication, and Candy smacks the side of his head.

“Nut up, Durham.” She grips his shoulders and gives him a quick shake. It's the shake she uses on the court when someone's head isn't in the game. “Mean it or go home.”

“I'm good, I'm good.” Heath dances away from Candy, giving his head a shake of its own. “I can do this.”

We have a plan. It might be a good one, it might be a bad one, but we don't have
time to search for another.

“Sterling.” Lenora May catches me before we leave the house behind. The bruise on her cheek is darkening nicely. There's no way Fisher will keep calm once he sees it. “What about you? Can you see again?”

This is the question I was hoping to avoid. Though none of us has eaten since church, I didn't skip breakfast and the Shine is still as dim as it was yesterday.

I pitch my voice low enough that Heath and Candy walking ahead won't hear. “Well enough.”

Her brow creases. She doesn't believe me and probably shouldn't. She won't like my plan any more than she'd like to see me starve, but there are only two ways to get close enough to the Shine to use it: through weakness or strength. And I'm choosing strength.

“I have a plan,” I say, producing the second cherry Fisher gave me. “It'll work fast, right?”

For a second, Lenora May doesn't answer, but presses her bloody lips together. Then, she nods and says, “Oh, Sterling,” in a whisper strained by emotion. “Would you listen if I told you you shouldn't?”

“No,” I say with kindness.

“Then, whatever you do, keep that charm on you.” And even as she tries to hide her concern with a smile, I see it in the corners of her mouth.

“I promise.” I pocket the fruit and give the silver bracelet on my wrist a turn. I have everything I need to get this done.

She links her arm through mine. Before we left the house, she changed from her Sunday dress into something more suited for a rescue mission. She picked a gray canvas sundress with pockets over her thighs, a few oil stains here and there. I recognized the cloth as that of Phin's work pants and asked, “The swamp couldn't give you a pair of pants?” To which Lenora May responded, “Why? On a girl, they're the single greatest travesty of this century.” And we'd shared a laugh.

She added black cowboy boots instead of sandals. Both seem pretty pointless to me, but nothing could be more Lenora May. As much as I've hated her this week, watching her boots cut through this tall grass makes me smile, and I realize that at some point, I stopped hating her altogether.

“Thank you,” I say, squeezing her arm. “No matter what happens, thank you for trying.”

She's quiet for a moment before saying, “I'd do anything for my sister.”

Ahead, Candy and Heath stop at the crest of the hill, where wild sweet William dances a blithe, blue path all the way to the fence. We join them and pause, our
attention fixed on the path ahead.

“Phineas Harlan Saucier,” I say quietly.

“Phineas Harlan Saucier,” Heath repeats the name.

“Phineas Harlan Saucier,” Lenora May adds, followed by Candy.

“Phineas Harlan Saucier,” the three of them say together and I swallow hard.

I raise my voice with theirs and together we give his name to the air, to the ground, and the swamp that took him. “Phineas Harlan Saucier.”

A crack of thunder shouts a response. Loud as an explosion. The earth rumbles beneath my feet. Ahead of us, the trees lean across the fence as if a great wind pushes against them. One look at my friends tells me they all know what I do: Fisher is waiting.

In unison, three cell phones start ringing. Candy, Lenora May, and I all reach for our pockets.

“It's Mama,” Lenora May says, nervous.

“It's my dad. He's never home this early,” Candy states.

“Darold,” I add.

Heath's grin is slippery when he says, “Bet my parents wish they hadn't restricted cell privileges now.”

Below, tree limbs whip in a furious wind that doesn't reach us. The clouds have swallowed the sun, and panic makes me cold.

I ball my fists for strength and clear the tension from my throat. “Let's go.”