Unearthed (57 page)

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Arch,” Reeve said, “I go to church, too, all right?”

“But you don’t live it quite the way I do,” Arch said. “I know how you all see me. Stiff, humorless, won’t play along. Won’t cuss, almost never drinks—I know I’m … different than almost anyone else. I just assumed that my faith and how I tight I cling to it … that it’d be another reason for you to doubt me or think I’m crazy.”

“I did used to think you sometimes took Christianity to an almost joyless extreme,” Reeve grudgingly admitted. “With the lack of swearing and all. But you were an upright man, Arch. Honest as the day was long. I couldn’t have imagined a better man and a better successor than you.” He looked down, giving Arch a solid view of his balding head, which reflected one of the terrarium’s lights. “Dammit, you’re making me talk about my feelings.”

“We don’t have to—” Arch started.

“No, let’s get it all out there,” Reeve said, head coming up. “I trusted you, and when the shit the fan, you didn’t trust me.”

Arch bowed his head. “That is true.”

“Well, that’s a real disappointment,” Reeve said, letting out a low breath. “But I guess … it’s somewhat understandable, given how hard this … whole demon thing is to believe.” He ran a hand over his empty scalp. “I mean, half the town saw that thing go running through Midian, and I have a feeling we’re still gonna have a bitch of a time trying to convince people that there are demons here.” He rubbed his forehead. “How many are demons are there here?”

“I have no idea,” Arch said. “I don’t even know how many I’ve killed. Just that it’s a lot.”

“So it was a demon on the night of the Summer Lights Festival?” Reeve asked.

“Yeah,” Arch said, looking for a place to lean and coming up short. His legs were stiff, his back hurt. He was ready for a good sleep, really. “That’s a whole other story, though.”

“Crosser Street?” Reeve asked.

“Yep. Cannibal demons. The freeway thing, too.”

“Lordy,” Reeve said. “So this isn’t something new at all.”

“No,” Arch said. “On the contrary.”

“How in the hell do I explain this to everyone?” Reeve asked. “Hell, how do I explain it to Pike?”

Arch let the question seep for a moment before answering. “I don’t know … but I do suggest, based on my own experience … that we find a way to tell them. And soon.”

Hendricks was standing outside the taxidermy shop, kicking up dust with his boots, watching the horizon take on the faint glow of the sun and remembering where he’d woken up just twenty-four hours earlier. It made his stomach want to turn. The sulfur smell of cutting up that demon had been just one extended flashback. It had been all he could do to keep his guts from heaving right there, but he’d done it.

He wished Starling had hung around, but naturally she’d vanished as soon as she’d handed over the arm for him to slice and dice. He’d turned around after separating it into about fifteen pieces, made it so it couldn’t move at all, and she was gone as gone could be. He should have expected it, but he’d had something he’d wanted to say to her. It’d wait, though, he supposed, because she was sure to show up again.

He kicked at the dust again, smelled the scent of dirt clouding in front of him, let it swirl over his black coat, and froze when he heard the little bell on the shop door open. He turned his head to look, then turned back. This … this, he’d expected.

“I’m glad you made it out of captivity all right,” Erin said. Her footsteps were soft, muted, the occasional crunch of the gravel parking lot underfoot.

“Me too,” Hendricks said, making a clicking sound with his tongue.

“I feel like we should talk,” Erin said, taking up station behind him.

“Not much to say.” Hendricks did not turn around.

“You could at least say something.”

“Like what?” he asked.

“Try … ‘I’m sorry’?”

His coat whirled with him as he turned on his boot heel. “I’m not sorry. I just wish I could have kept you further away.”

“Fuck you,” she said, face souring instantly. “Leaving me in a hospital bed without a clue wasn’t far enough?”

“Well, you did come back to Helltown, U.S.A.” He kicked the dirt, dislodging a few pebbles. “So, no. I’d say that’s not far enough away.”

“I can fight, okay?” Erin’s voice was taut, determined, and the sun was glinting on her blond hair. “I think I proved that on the mountain when I saved your life.”

“You nearly died,” Hendricks said.

“I knew what I was doing.” She took a step forward, hands on her belt loops.

“Well, maybe I didn’t,” he said, and took a step away from her.

She did not try and take a step closer to him, not this time. “You can’t keep me out of this.”

“I didn’t have to try very hard last time.”

“I didn’t know where you were,” she said.

“And when you found Arch?” Hendricks asked. “When he got arrested? Did you chomp at the bit to re-enlist with us? Or did you pass?”

She turned her head sideways, giving him a view of her profile. The vein in her neck stood out, and her chin jutted. “I made a bad choice, okay? You should know what that’s like.”

“Oh, I know what it’s like,” Hendricks said, and his fingers came up to his upper lip, scratching at the beard growth there and around his chin. “Every decision I’ve made with you since I got here has been a bad choice … and I’m sincerely sorry for dragging you into this.”

A wind crept up, rustling the trees. “Is that really all you’ve got to say?” she asked, face frozen in a stunned look. “After … all this?”

“I can’t think of anything else to add.” He just stood there and stared at the ground, and when she opened the door and went back inside, he didn’t try to follow her.

Lauren leaned her head against the window of Belzer’s car, not trying all that hard to fight the sleep that was threatening to claim her. She’d just dropped off Wayne Thurston’s car and keys, here in the heart of the Midian disaster area, and Belzer was driving her back to where she’d met him before the demon party, more than a day—or possibly a lifetime ago. A question occurred to her and she asked it a second later, which to her mind was a perfect reflection of exactly how tired she was. “Did you get what you were looking for?”

“That and more,” Belzer said. “Interviews. Crappy video footage of a demon attack. Enough to keep me busy for the next few days.” They passed the smoking remains of one of the houses the Rog’tausch had blown up. The boards were blackened and twisted, most of the structure collapsed in on itself. No one was even standing sentry over it, though Lauren knew for a fact that people had died in there and hadn’t been recovered yet.

“Maybe your video footage wouldn’t have been so crappy if you’d … I dunno, stepped out of the car to film?” She tried not to throw too much emotion into her voice, tried to keep it level, but a little probably leaked in.

“Next time, maybe,” Belzer said. He was drumming the wheel with his fingers, tapping out his excitement. “This whole group, what they do? I could be like their embedded reporter. Bring them some exposure from the outside, maybe more assistance—”

“Or you could expose them,” Lauren said. “Expose
us
. Which would be more than mildly irritating.” She thought it funny how quickly she counted herself as one of them. “And not at all helpful.”

“I can blur faces,” Belzer said. “Like reporters do with undercover cops. But I doubt I’ll need to much with the video I’ve taken so far.” He shook his head. “This is the revelation I’ve always needed. The break. This whole town is set to split wide open.”

“I live here, thanks,” Lauren said, leaning on the window. They passed a car with a telephone pole through it. “We all live here. And if this town ‘splits wide open,’ then a lot of good people are going to lose their homes. A lot of good people are going to die. We were lucky tonight that there weren’t more deaths.”

“I don’t mean to be so flip about it,” Belzer said, chastened, a moment later. “I just … I’ve been searching for this my whole life.”

Lauren let her head rest against the unyielding strength of the window. “I haven’t. And I could have gone the whole rest of mine without finding it right at my doorstep.”

The car rattled on, carrying Lauren out of that little slice of Midian where the Rog’tausch had done its damage. For some reason, she couldn’t help but tear up more than a little.

They were almost home, and Brian was riding in silence. The taxidermist’s shop had been a hell of a trip, especially watching those bugs eating a demon. Brian had thought he’d seen some far-out shit in college, some crazy stuff; things that would make the average person raise an eyebrow. But he hadn’t ever thought about beetles making a snack of a demon’s corpse after he’d driven it through a wall with a semi. That … was wild.

His father seemed content to keep the quiet, but Brian was reaching his bubbling point. “I want to help,” he said, breaking the silence.

“You helped plenty,” Bill said, slow and even.

“I could have done more,” Brian said. “I’m no … gun guy, like you. But maybe … I could learn to use a sword, like Arch?”

Bill drew a pained breath. “As your father, let me say … I am not highly in favor of you involving yourself in this conflict.”

“Dad,” Brian said, turning his head to look at him. “You know I’m not the kind of guy who would join the Army. So what does it say to you that I’m sitting here after watching
literally
all hell break loose last night, and I’m telling you I want to fight?”

There was a pause. “It tells me … that I wish you hadn’t gotten in the back of my truck the night before last.”

“You can’t expect me to have seen what I saw and just stand aside,” Brian said. “Go back to the basement and smoke myself blind of it. There are some things you can’t forget.”

“You’re a man,” Bill said. “You are fully capable of making your own decisions.” He said it with such heavy regret that Brian thought it might have brought the truck to a stop right there.

“You’re not going to be happy about this, though, are you?” Brian asked, staring at his father.

Bill Longholt looked like he’d aged twenty years in the last few days, and this was the first time Brian had realized it. “There is no part of demons coming to Midian to like, son. No part at all.” He straightened in his seat, but the lines on his face looked deeper. “But we all have to do what we can, and if you want to be part of that … I won’t stop you.”

He knew it wasn’t a ringing endorsement, but Brian left well enough alone on that. They drove on into the sunrise, Brian’s mind racing, trying to think of ways he could help, things that they might not have considered. If he was going to fight, after all, he might as well play to his strengths.

Arch stared at the bugs crawling over the pieces of the demon’s skeleton, watching the subtle destruction. Alison stood next to him, both of their faces almost pressed up to the glass. It was the same old thing he’d been watching for about an hour now, and he wasn’t tired of it yet.

But he was danged tired.

Reeve had left, Hendricks and Duncan had gone back to the house to collect their things and move back into town. They’d taken Kitty’s SUV. Erin was wandering about out in the main area, keeping an eye open out there. She hadn’t said much to Arch, hadn’t much cared for meeting his eye when he’d nodded at her. He’d interpreted that as shame and hadn’t wanted to press things. Figured she’d come around given time.

“They’re so small,” Alison said, tapping the glass. The beetles reacted not a whit.

“And hungry,” Arch said.

“They’re kinda like us,” Alison said, standing back up. “Against these things.” She gestured toward the black bone in the terrarium. “We had to swarm that Rog’tausch thing in order to kill it.”

“Yeah,” Arch agreed. “Whatever it takes, right?”

“Whatever it takes,” she agreed. She smoothed back her flannel shirt to reveal a dagger sticking out of her belt. He started to ask where she’d gotten it, then remembered where he’d seen it before—Kitty Elizabeth had had it in her hand when he’d sliced it off.

“That a holy blade?” Arch asked.

“I think so,” Alison said, stroking the hilt. “I tried taking some meat off the Rog’tausch with it and it cut through like roast beef.”

“Reckon that gives us four holy blades, then,” Arch said.

“Plus Duncan’s baton,” Alison added. Arch didn’t answer to that, and after a moment, she switched subjects. “You should take the car back to the house and start packing.”

Arch made a show of studying the terrariums around them. “Not sure I want to leave you here by yourself.”

“Erin’s here,” Alison said. “And Casey.” She turned her head toward the beaded curtain. “Isn’t that right, Casey?”

“What’s that?” Casey Meacham’s high-pitched voice came from the far end of the room, and he slid out from behind a bead-curtained door with a rattle. “What’d you say?”

“I said you’re here in case demons come a knockin’. You’ll help me and Erin fight ’em off, won’t you?”

Casey’s small eyes got big. “Well … I reckon I’d try.”

“You’re a brave man, Casey Meacham,” Alison said, without a trace of irony.

“Aw, shucks,” Casey said, blushing visibly, even in the low light. “I ain’t been this buttered up since last Tuesday night, if you know what I mean.” And he disappeared back behind the beads.

Arch just stood there, staring at where the taxidermist had been standing a moment earlier. “If you find out what he means by that,” he said to Alison, “please don’t ever tell me.”

“If I ever find out what he means by that,” Alison said, “I’m not sure I’m going to want to live long enough to share it.”

Lauren’s key hit the lock and she turned it, letting the familiar smells of home waft over her. There was the smell of biscuits that had been cooked some time ago, of her mother’s perfume lingering in the air. Lauren felt the satisfaction of turning the heavy deadbolt lock as she came in, hearing it click. The sound gave her the illusion of security, of safety, that she desperately needed right now.

She hung her keys on the rack, kicked off her shoes at the door. Her mom would gripe at her later, but she didn’t care.