Page 121 of Confessions of the Dead

Marcie was wearing jeans and a gray sweater that did a nice job of hugging her frame. Somewhere on his phone, Cody had a photograph of her naked and tied up. He’d bought it for a hundred bucks from some loser named Malcolm-something who dropped out of school a while back to follow his dream of changing oil and cleaning grungy bathrooms at the muffler shop down on Main.

Cody’s eyes must have lingered a little longer than permitted on Marcie’s breasts, because she crossed her arms over her chest and her cheeks flushed. “Crazy day, huh?”

“I prefer to think of it as lively.”

“I suppose. My parents are freaking out.”

“My mom, too,” Cody told her. He’d dragged her body to the garage and loaded her into the large freezer they kept out there.She was lying comfortably on top of two-year-old packages of ground beef and assorted TV dinners. “She went out this morning, said she was going to talk to a few of her friends to find out what was going on, and she didn’t come back. I don’t know where she is.”

Marcie gave him an understanding look. She was much better at it than Principal Martinez. “I’m sure she’s fine. She’ll probably show up here when she realizes you’re not home.”

“Maybe.”

“Ms. Trendle said Mr. Peterson is with the sheriff or something. Sounds like they know what’s going on. They’re all coming together.”

Cody nodded toward the black smoke above Main Street. “I love the way they handled all that. Can’t wait to hear what they have to say.”

Although nobody was near them, Marcie’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I heard there’s a fence up around town, and whoever put it there isn’t letting anyone out or in.”

Cody hadn’t heard that, but then again, he’d been busy. Even if it were true, it didn’t change much.

He didn’t expect Marcie to take his hand, so when she did, he flinched, jerked away.

Marcie’s cheeks flushed a darker shade of red. “I’m sorry, it’s just, you looked alone out here and I thought maybe you’d want to sit with me, at least until your mom gets here.”

Cody’s eyes darted around. He was only in eighth grade. Marcie was older—ahigh school girl. Way out of his league. Which meant this wasn’t real. Couldn’t be real. He looked for Mason Ridler or Brett Murphy; maybe one of them had put her up to this. They’d get him inside and do God-knows-what. But he didn’t see them. He only saw people crowding into the gym.

Maybe that was it.

The sign.

A little nudge to help him decide hisstay outside, go insidedilemma.

“Sure, I’ll sit with you.” Cody took Marcie’s hand and started for the gym entrance. If he’d never get to see all these people burn, at the very least he could see the expression on their faces when he walked in with Marcie Holden.

93

Sheriff Ellie

WITH BUCK LEADING, THEfour kids in the middle, and Ellie at the rear, they followed a narrow path from the side of Buck’s house through the dense forest and undergrowth around the west side of the mountain toward the Pickerton place. It was clear the path hadn’t been made by deer or other animals; some of the branches had been cut back by hand and tossed aside. When they crossed a narrow stream, they held a rope that had been fastened on both sides. Ellie couldn’t help but wonder how many times Buck had walked this path over the previous three and a half decades. How often he’d gone looking for his lost love and come home alone.

“Hey, do you guys see those?” This came from Mason Ridler. He was carrying his baseball bat, swinging it in round arcs as he walked. He twisted it around and pointed the tip at a tree on his right. “More of those creepy birds. I can’t tell if they’re following us. They all look the same to me.”

“It will get worse as we get closer, just like they did with Buck and Emily,” Robby Harper said without looking up. “They might try to stop us, too. We need to be ready for that.”

Mason swung the bat back down. “Bring it on. I could use the practice.”

Ellie couldn’t figure Robby Harper out. She knew he was autistic—she’d gathered that much with her numerous visits out to his house to break up arguments between his parents—but she had no idea how that played into all this. It was like he understood what was happening on some other level. Like it all made perfect sense to him. She remembered one particular call about three years ago. His dad had gotten drunk and decided to mow the lawn at eleven at night. At five years old, Robby had no business being up that late, but he was. He’d been sitting on the deck of their front porch, putting a puzzle together, and while that was odd, it wasn’t the oddest part. He was completing the puzzle with the image facedown, only the blank cardboard side visible. More than half was done. She watched him for nearly a minute as he systematically scanned the remaining pieces and snapped them into place. It all seemed so effortless, like he already knew where each piece went. He had that same look in his eyes now, as if he’d completed this particular puzzle before and was only going through the motions.

Riley’s phone dinged, and she looked at the screen and frowned.

Ellie caught up to her. “What is it?”

“A text from my mom. She wants us to go back to Buck’s house and wait for her there. She and Matt are on their way. They found a way to get out of town.”

Ellie frowned. “Can I see?”

The girl handed her the phone. The message was on the notification screen. “Mind if I reply?”

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