True North (The Bears of Blackrock Book 4) (16 page)

Theron would come back for her, she thought. He would come back for all of them.

“Miss Dalton, look!” Buniq said, and Sinead jumped. She hadn’t heard Buniq cross the room to her. Sinead turned to take in the sight of Buniq’s beautiful work. She wasn’t some art prodigy by any means, but she had a look of utter pride on her face. Sinead smiled, taking the whiteboard to give it a good look.

“Very nice, hon. You want me to draw you another one, or shall we keep this one for a couple days? I can display it on my desk?”

Buniq didn’t respond immediately as Sinead crossed the room to set the whiteboard on her desk for display. Sinead swallowed, glancing at the windows for a sign of changing light. She’d vowed to wait an hour before heading across the Extension to deliver the second radio to Darrell. She wanted to do as she promised Theron, and that meant finding Darrell and telling him what was going on, but she’d known Darrell longer than Theron. No matter the blood they shared between them, she knew the second Darrell knew Theron was off the Extension, he’d be furious.

Darrell would be furious because he wasn’t with them. Sinead wasn’t looking forward to Darrell’s anger, but she would tolerate it to do as Theron asked.

That, and she couldn’t imagine sleeping another frigid night in the school house – not after knowing the bliss of Theron’s warmth.

No place would feel emptier than her bedroom without him in it.

“We need to head over to your brother’s, anyway. I have something for him.”

“What’s thi -?”

The sound of glass shattering startled Sinead around. Buniq stood over the space heater, her shoulders hunched up to her ears.

Sinead froze, watching the water spread across the stained linoleum from the shattered glass. She charged across the room, dropping to her knees beside the puddle in search of the tiny metal shape. She pressed her hand to the linoleum, feeling the floor and water beneath her fingers, but no sign of the tracker. She moved her hand again and pain shot down her middle finger as a piece of glass sliced through her skin. She hissed. How quickly would the temperature change register? How soon would they know Theron’s tracker was no longer in him?

“I’m sorry, Miss Dalton. I didn’t mean to,” Buniq said, and her voice cracked with coming tears. Sinead turned toward the little girl and grabbed her hand with her uninjured fingers.

“Honey, don’t worry. You did nothing wrong. It’s not your fault. Come on, though. I need you to go right now!”

Sinead turned from habit alone to the left side of the door to snag a coat for Buniq – a coat that didn’t exist. She snorted softly at her mistake, then rushed across the room to grab up one of the two radios. She’d yet to hear anything from Theron, but she still wasn’t ready to break the silence. She didn’t want to take any chances.

Theron needed a good head start. She needed to know he was safely out of their reach before she sought the comfort of his voice.

“Here, honey. I need you to go give this to your brother for me, ok?”

Buniq looked down at the small black radio, her brow furrowed over her teary eyes. Buniq sniffled, and Sinead grabbed the girl around the shoulders.

“Honey, it’s ok. You did nothing wrong. I’m not mad, we just need to hurry a little now, that’s all.”

Buniq took the radio from Sinead’s hand and held it tight. “What do I tell him?”

“You tell him to hide it, but keep it close. He’ll hear from Theron when they’re safe.”

Buniq swallowed loudly, then turned for the door. The snow was flitting in the air, but there was nothing new falling. It was becoming too cold for snow. Buniq glanced back from the front steps, and Sinead forced a smile. Buniq finally turned down the main road and took off at a run, her tiny feet leaving a path in the untouched snow of the night before.

Sinead shut the door tight against the cold and turned back to the puddle on the floor. She dropped to her knees and scanned every inch of the stained linoleum, touching specks of dirt and grime to feel for a sign of the tracker. Her mind raced with worry. What if it was already too late? What if they’d already caught Theron and this tiny bastard of a device didn’t matter at all?

Don’t think like that
, she thought, scolding herself.
He’s fine. He’s going to be just fine!

Sinead pressed her hand to the floor, carefully this time, brushing at each dark shape. She collected the larger shards of glass and set them aside. Suddenly a dark shape appeared in the water, then changed shape, moving out from its center.

Blood. Her finger was bleeding enough now to run down the length of her finger and drip into the pool of water below, clouding it. As the blood moved, its path seemed to warp, as though moving around some unseen thing. Sinead pressed her fingertip into the water and felt the small chip, half lodged into a crack in the linoleum.

Sinead moved fast, hustling back to the bathroom and the small kettle she kept. The water should still be warm. Sinead poured herself a small glass of water, part warm, part cool, and set the thermometer into the water to watch the mercury rise.

103 degrees.

Sinead dropped the small tracker into the water and exhaled.

Please god, let that be enough, she thought.

She sat for a long while just staring at the thermometer.

The door of the schoolhouse rattled, startling her around. Sinead rushed across the meetinghouse. Was Buniq back already? Knowing Darrell, Sinead wouldn’t be the least surprised to find him there, a grimace on his handsome face as he demanded to know what the hell Theron was up to – and why Darrell hadn’t been invited.

Sinead pressed the steaming mug to her chest and braced herself for the blast of cold that would come when she opened the door.

“That was qui -”

She instantly remembered - no one knocked on Sinead’s door.

No one from the camp.

Sinead froze as she met the faces standing at her schoolhouse door, and this time, it wasn’t the cold that chilled her.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

THERON

“Oh, I’d love it if they did. Sheriff might’ve taken my sidearm, but that wasn’t the only gun I had.”

Charlie was stewing at the panel of the small boat, his hands clenching the rudder wheel with white knuckles. He seemed to be fuming ever hotter with every nautical mile. Theron kept his eyes on the black shape of land in the distance, waiting to spot new lights.

They’d passed Kilikut by miles, and its lights were all but gone in the distance, even the soft glow in the sky over land was faded now. The water was calm, and the boat was cutting well through the small waves. Still, though Theron would never admit it to half his family back home, he’d never done well on the water, and his stomach was turning with every passing moment.

“God, I have half a mind to summon the cavalry. You know? Just barrel in there – gun’s blazing! Who the fuck do they think they are?”

Theron listened, but his mind was elsewhere. He’d left Sinead back with those very monsters Charlie now ranted about, and the thought of her there, sleeping alone and cold that night hurt his heart in a way he’d never felt before. He clutched the radio in his hands and watched the dark mass to the West.

Come on, Black Tickle
, he thought.
Give me a light. Give me a sign we’re out of their reach. Let me call to her and let her know I’m getting her out.

A higher wave hit the port side and threw Theron’s stomach for a loop. He took a deep breath, blowing out through pursed lips. He crouched down along the rail of the boat, still keeping his eyes on the horizon. It wasn’t easy to keep his eyes on a fixed thing when the world was pitch black as it was. There were no lights for miles, no cities for hundreds of miles. This was the kind of wilderness that makes a man lose sleep. A hopeless place if ever he’d found one. During those long months in Boston, this kind of quiet and solitude might’ve brought him solace, but now this quiet world felt like the walls of a prison – just as much as that electric fence did.

“Oi, pal! Have a look up ahead!”

Theron jerked around, nearly losing his balance as he stood up.

Lights.

Not many. No more than a dozen or so, but bright enough to betray flood lights and civilization.

Theron surged toward the small awning over the navigation panel and glared through the windshield at the lights up ahead. He exhaled with relief and brought the radio up to his lips.

“Sinead. Sweetheart. We made it. We’re coming into Black Tickle now.”

Theron released his hold on the radio button and listened to the silence of the water around them, waiting.

“Baby. Let me hear your voice. Are you hearing me?”

Charlie glanced Theron’s way, but didn’t say a word as they both waited for a response. They’d been sailing for well over an hour now, but Theron was surprised she hadn’t kept the radio right at her side.

“Sinead? Darrell? Anyone hearing me? Come on!”

Theron let the radio button click free again and growled softly. The lights of Black Tickle tripled in number as they drew closer.

“Oh, yes. We’re certainly hearing you.”

Theron’s blood stilled in his veins at the sound of the voice coming through the radio.

Charlie’s knuckles tightened around the wheel, the white of them visible even in the dark.

Theron swallowed.
“Where is Sinead?”

He didn’t want to admit how afraid he was to hear the answer.

Baird Davenport’s voice slithered through the radio like venom.
“Oh, you needn’t worry about us up here. We’re not your problem anymore.”

“Where is she, you asshole? Put her on!”

The radio clicked on again, and Theron could just make out the sound of Davenport chuckling to someone.
“She’s not here, son. She’s off the reservation. Just like you.”

Theron leaned into the radio, feeling the plastic creak under the pressure of his clenched fingers.
“Davenport, you fucker. I’m going to kill you. Do you hear me? I’m going to fucking rip your head off and spit down your throat.”

The laughter returned, this time in earnest.
“Well, Yippee kai yay, then, motherfucker. I look forward to it.”

The radio went dead again, but this time with a bristling crunch. It sounded as though Davenport had stomped on the radio.

Theron stood there shaking. He’d grown oblivious to the sway of the boat or the lights of Black Tickle drawing closer up ahead. All he could hear now was the pulsing of blood in his ears. He knew this manner of rage. He’d felt it a few times in his life. It was the dangerous kind of rage.

It was the kind that could make a man shift without meaning to.

He was sure Charlie Black wouldn’t take kindly to sharing such a small space with a massive polar bear.

And deep down, Theron wasn’t ready to let Charlie see. What Charlie thought he saw in Maine was one thing, but letting Officer Black of the Blackrock Police Force know without a shadow of a doubt what Theron was?

It went against everything Theron had been taught. He needed to get ahold of himself.

And more importantly –

“Turn around. We have to go back,” Theron said, turning away from the lights of Black Tickle.

The boat listed in the water. “Already one step ahead of ya,” Charlie said, and the boat cut a clean turn through the low waves.

The ride was choppier as they barreled back through the water, fighting the tide as they chugged northward. Charlie had kept their speed low on the way south, careful not to draw attention from the shore, but this time, he seemed to care little for who heard them coming.

Theron was grateful. What had been over an hour long ride to Black Tickle was looking to be cut in half coming home. Still, what the hell would he do once they arrived? No one answered the radio when he attempted again.

Theron demanded Charlie drop him on the shore just off the Extension. He’d crawl his way back under the waves and make his way to Darrell. Someone on the Extension had to know where Sinead was.

“You got it. I’ll dock back up north and make my way -”

“Theron?”

They both froze as the radio clicked to life and the crackling sound of Darrell’s voice came whispering through.

Theron lunged for the radio.
“Yes, I’m here. Darrell?”

“Ther -”

“We’re coming back. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll come find you.”

“Don’t,”
Darrell said.
“Don’t come back onto the Extension. They’re not here.”

Theron took a moment, his mind racing to make sense of these words.

“They took them both. Buniq and Sinead are gone. They wouldn’t tell us where they were taking them.”

Theron’s throat grew tight. What had he done?

Darrell’s tone betrayed anguish.

Theron roared, the sound fading in the dark as though it hit a wall. He crouched down beside the rail of the boat and fought the rising emotion. He would shift or weep there beside Charlie Black, and he didn’t want to do either. Still, he was too close to tears to speak. He felt helpless.

A hand wrapped around his, and Charlie took the radio from Theron’s clenched fingers.

“Darrell? This is Officer Charlie Black. I’m a friend of Theron’s.”

There was silence on the other end of the radio, but Charlie continued.
“Theron says you all carry trackers, is that right?”

There was a pause, then the radio clicked to life.
“We do. Yes.”