Page 46 of Thunder Road

“Sounds reasonable to me.” Despite the troll and the threat of catastrophe, planning a library event was a sure way to brighten Simon’s day.

“Go do what you need to do,” Pete told him. “I’ve got things covered here.”

Simon felt the boardwalk calling to him. “I think I need to take a walk to clear my head. Want me to bring anything back for you?”

“If you’re getting coffee, I won’t turn down a large pumpkin spiced anything.”

“Almost like you read my mind. I haven’t seen Tracey much since we got back from our honeymoon, and I owe her an update.”

Tracey Cullen owned Le Mizzenmast—usually called Le Miz—which Simon believed sold the best coffee on the Grand Strand. She was one of the people he had known the longestsince he moved to Myrtle Beach, and next to Vic and Pete, his closest friend.

“Tell her hi for me,” Pete said.

Simon stepped out onto the boardwalk. His thoughts seemed jumbled and noisy, and he could feel a headache coming on. He knew that they had a great team working together on the project, people who were both knowledgeable about the arcane and had strong supernatural gifts. But no one had first-hand experience with trolls, and the stakes were too high to risk making a mistake.

He found an empty bench facing the ocean and sat, staring at the waves and trying to calm his mind. The beachgoers were older couples and retirees since kids and college students were back at school. Out of the corner of his eye, he sensed the ghosts from all eras who had never left the shore or were drawn to walk along the edges of the waves until they were ready to move on.

“I believe you are doing the right thing.”

Simon tried not to visibly react when Sister Petroula’s ghost showed up seated next to him. He fought the urge to reply aloud.

“You heard all that?”

“I heard enough. It is a terrible thing that the guardians died out, and the keepers were not replaced. People who don’t understand the power of magic end up paying its price,”the ghost replied.

“Did you mean that trying to renew the protections was the right thing or that our approach is correct? Because no one’s done this before.”

“Both, so far as I know. After you left, I followed the trail of your research. You were thorough. I did not find any sources you missed. Everything that was been done can be done again. The original protections were put into place. They can be renewed or replaced. Your work appears to be correct,”Sister Petroula’s spirit answered.

“Thank you. I hope we’re both right. Because we can’t afford to be wrong.”

8

VIC

“Whatever’s going down, we want to be part of it.” Chad Samuels from the Low Rangers Motorcycle Club strode into the office Vic shared with Ross. He was a big man, probably six foot, five inches, with broad shoulders and tattooed, muscular arms. Even though gray peppered his dark, curly mane and beard, he looked like he could go a few rounds with just about anyone and come out on top.

“I was Carter’s top lieutenant, and now I’m in charge. This was our fight first—and we want to finish it.”

Vic blinked. “What do you mean?”

Samuels fixed him with a glare. “ The curse. The deal. Whatever thatthingis that’s been taking my people. I hear you’ve been asking questions, and so has that professor who talks to ghosts down on the boardwalk. This has been a plague on us for decades, and if there’s a way to make it stop, me and my boys want in.”

“I thought your folks had made peace with the situation,” Ross said in a dry tone.

“When you think you don’t have choices, you make the best of it,” Samuels retorted. “When you find out there’s an option,things change.” He had a whisky rasp to his voice and smelled like Marlboros.

Vic looked to Ross, who shrugged.

“The plans are still coming together. I’ll give you the overview. If you still want in, there’s a place for you. If not, all I ask is don’t get in our way.” Vic gestured for Samuels to have a seat.

“That’s fair.”

Vic walked him through the discovery of the creature’s identity, how ancient he was, the role of the lighthouses, and how they had helped to constrain the troll.

“Once the lighthouses weren’t manned anymore, the protections faded, and the troll ran amok. He’s been cheating on your deal by snatching homeless folks that don’t get counted,” Vic said. “We’ve found a way to renew the power of the lighthouses that should bring the creature to heel—and break your club’s deal.”

Samuels looked at him. “A troll. They’re real?”

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