Page 19 of Entombed In Sin

“Get on.” With that, I shove my own helmet over my own head and wait for her.

Beatrix shoves up her visor so I can see her face and the worry on it. “Do you know how many people I’ve pieced back together after they’ve fallen off one of these?”

When I don’t respond, Beatrix sighs and shoves her visor back down. As she steps closer to my bike, I glance up at the house. My gaze flickers to where I installed the exterior security cameras an hour ago. I can’t see them given that it’s dark, but I placed them in discreet areas so even during the day they won’t be too noticeable. Knox was already working on putting them on a private server when I dragged Beatrix out of the house.

One problem down. One more to go.

As Beatrix attempts to climb onto the bike, she struggles a little. The motorcycle is much too big for her, but as my backpack, she should be fine. Once on, her hands flounder, not quite sure where to rest them. She finally decides to grab two handfuls of the back of my jacket, clearly intending to keep from getting too close to me.

I snort. Rookie mistake.

The motorcycle roars to life and rumbles beneath us. I’m careful as I pull out of the parking space, but as I head for the road, I play with the throttle. We lurch forward, then I break,hard. I can hear Beatrix’s screech of terror through our helmets as she nearly falls off the back. Quickly, she adjusts her hold—instantly wrapping her arms around my waist with a death grip. I’m sure she can feel my body shake as I laugh before I peel out onto the dark road.

I’m not slow as we zoom through the night.

This isn’t a leisurely cruise. We have a destination to get to and I want her heart racing by the time we arrive. The road curves dramatically here and there as we put distance between us and Chasm. That town has nothing for either of us. But I know a place that does.

Trees thicken on either side of the two-lane road. Overhead, the clouds that have lingered for two days have grown thicker and more ominous. The only light comes from the front of my bike, leaving the rest of the world cast in the blackest of night. Beatrix’s arms tighten around me as the wind whips past us. Her body wrapped around me feels good; it feelsright. This is how it should’ve been the moment I decided I wanted her.

Eventually the trees begin to thin.

To our right, a large brick building comes into view. Or what’s left of it. Most of it has crumbled in on itself, including the roof. The bricks that still stand are blackened with soot and burns. The tall barbed-wire fence is mangled, rusty, and no longer of any use. I can feel Beatrix’s helmet slide across my back as she turns to stare at it.

It’s out of sight within seconds as I continue onward.

A few minutes later, we enter a ghost town. I slow, but don’t stop as I weave through what must have been downtown. Most of the stores and buildings are just rubble. Some of them that still stand have been tagged or looted. Shop windows have beenbroken, doors hang off their hinges, and glass still lingers on the sidewalk. As we move past the town center into more residential areas, the houses are the same way. It’s clear whatever happened here had been devastating to the whole community.

I turn onto a street with a cul-de-sac and park my bike at the very end. When I cut off the engine, Beatrix immediately let’s go and climbs off. I shove my riding gloves into my pocket and pull out my special leather ones.

“What are we doing in Briar Glen?” she asks as we remove our helmets.

The fear in her voice catches my attention. I climb off my bike and turn to study Beatrix as she peers around with wide eyes full of alarm.

“I have a surprise for you.” I offer her my hand.

Immediately, she steps close and takes it. Her fear of this place outweighs her current anger with me. Interesting.

“Here?” she asks, her voice soft and straining.

I wrap my gloved fingers around hers and lead her toward the woods rather than back up the street. We’re eaten up by the shadows of the dead trees, becoming one with the night. Our pace is quick as I guide her toward the surprise up ahead.

“Why not here?” I ask, mildly curious. “What happened to this place?”

You can get to Chasm from four different directions. I know because I’ve come from every one of them. When I’d come through Briar Glen, its inauspicious feel was like a calling card to me. The emptiness of the place and the clear magnitude of destruction intrigued me.

“There was a cult here once, hidden in plain sight. Their, ah, practices all came to light about five years ago when someone decided enough was enough and put an end to them all. You could see the fire from Chasm. It burned fordaysbefore firefighters could get it under control. The whole townevacuated while the chaos was happening. The coroner from Chasm disappeared around the same time. No one knows how he’s connected, but rumor has it that he was. Jeff going MIA led to Bright Starr receiving an influx of bodies for a while.” Beatrix holds my hand tighter as light breaks through the darkness up ahead. “No one knows who started the fire, but rumor has it, it was a ghost looking for people to drag to hell.”

I chuckle at the stupidity. “Please tell me you don’t believe that.”

“No, I don’t believe in ghosts. But still… not knowing who did it makes me nervous.”

One person turned this place into a ghost town? Fascinating. I wonder if they felt vindicated afterward.

“When I looked online, I couldn’t find any information on this place,” I tell her.

“No, you wouldn’t,” she says softly. “The governor wiped all the information about Briar Glen from the internet and you won’t find it on any updated maps.”

I suppose it wouldn’t look good for a politician if people learned a cult had operated on such a large scale and had gone unnoticed right under your nose. Rather than acknowledge the mistake, why not erase the plight from history?

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