Page 77 of Confessions of the Dead

“We’ll figure out your Harry Potter ink in a minute. I don’t like where this is going,” Evelyn said. “I just drank that water.”

Robby stared at the strip, and for the first time since Riley had met him, he looked confused.

Evelyn drew closer. “Well?”

He removed the strip he’d used at the water tower from his back pocket and held it up to the other one. Now Evelyn looked confused, too. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Roy Buxton doesn’t live very far from here,” Robby said. “We need to show him this.”

58

Matt

MATT TOSSED THE EMPTYbucket back across the street to Conner Evans, who heaved it over his shoulder to Sally at the door of the fire station. Sally handed it off to Gabby, took the full one from her other hand, and glared back at Conner, who was standing on the yellow line of Main Street. Her face red and sweaty, Sally said, “Christ, Conner, I can’t toss a full bucket, you lazy shit, get over here!”

Conner didn’t move. Instead, he bent over with his hands on his knees, out of breath. “This is stupid! We’re not even making a dent in it!”

Gabby shielded her eyes from the sun and pointed toward the roof of the library. “Matt, he’s right! It’s spreading!”

Matt followed her finger.

Visible between the black smoke spewing from the library’s windows, glowing hot embers circled the air around the clock tower, caught the wind, and drifted lazily through the sky. Somedropped to the street and grass; others vanished on the rooftops of the surrounding buildings. Tendrils of smoke were already drifting up from the roof of the pharmacy two doors down. Same with the bank. Left unchecked, the fire would take all of downtown, and without working fire trucks or additional help, there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Matt had picked up another empty bucket and felt it slip from his hand and thump to the ground at his feet.

Where the hell did everyone go?

An hour ago, half the town seemed to be out in the streets. Now nobody was around. Even the people who had been in the sheriff’s office had run off.

A window on the second floor of the library blew out with a deep grunt. Matt shielded his face and eyes. The heat of it smacked into him, and he took a few stumbling steps in the opposite direction before finally calling out to whoever was listening, “We need to evacuate all these buildings! Get everyone out!”

It was Sunday, so most were closed, but he couldn’t risk someone getting trapped inside.

A block down the road, Sally shouted something back, but he couldn’t make it out. She grabbed Gabby by the hand, and the two of them started going door to door. When they found one locked, they beat on the windows before moving on.

Matt turned back around. “Conner, I need you to—”

Conner Evans was gone. No doubt took off to save his own skin, like Ben Molton and the others had.

Matt swore under his breath and was about to head back into the fire station to salvage whatever he could when he spotted the strange girl standing in the street, her long, dark hair fluttering in the wind. She was vigorously scratching at her left arm.

A pang of fear tweaked Matt’s chest as he thought of all the names written on her arms, how she’d been scratching at ArwaGilmore’s name moments before the woman stumbled out of the library and died. The line through her name.

The heat of the fire on his back, Matt ran to her, grabbed her wrist, and yanked up the sweatshirt sleeve.

The nameEisa Heatonwas bright red, inflamed, a fresh line down the middle.

59

Hannah

HANNAH BOLTED FROM THEPickerton house, nearly tripped on the last step as she came down off the porch, then stumbled again as her foot slipped in the mud and pine needles, but she managed to stay on her feet.

Rather than follow the road back down to town, where Malcolm would surely catch her long before she reached help, she went for the trees. She knew that wasn’t much better—fifteen years of watching television and movies told her the girl never got out of the woods alive when some psycho was chasing after her—but she had no choice. There was no place else to go.

She could no longer see the house, had put at least a hundred yards between her and Malcolm, when he shouted from somewhere behind her. “I’m glad you did that, Hannah! This will be much more fun! I’ll even give you a head start! Wait until you see what I found—way better than my screwdriver! You can keep that if it makes you feel better!”

Hannah’s grip tightened around the handle. She knew it wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

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