Courtney bolted.
She ran hard through the gorge, her shoes slipping in the mud. Dillon watched for a moment and said, “Retrieve the runaway. Bring her back alive and put her in the box.”
The men took off, running like hounds chasing a fox. With hands tied behind her back, Courtney’s speed was diminished. In less than a minute, the men had caught and tackled her in the mud. They lifted her up and brought her back to Dillon, dropping her at his feet. He kicked her in the mouth, squatted down and said, “Little niece, you’re gonna die, but not ‘till I say how and when. Now lie down in your coffin.”
She spat mud and saliva in his face. He grinned, wiped if off with one hand, wiping it on her shirt, across her left breast. He leaned in her ear and whispered. “I remember what they felt like when they were growing.” The he rose up and said, “You will cross the threshold tonight. You’ll do it with my brother. A full moon is rising across the abyss.” He paused and inhaled deeply through his nostrils. “Smell that? That’s the promise. Lots of rain. A big nor’easter is due to arrive about midnight. You know how fast the water from the rains come down this canyon? It’ll be a flashflood. Won’t take long to cover up that pipe. Drowning is a bad way to go ‘cause it takes so long to die. Lungs burn, you cough, spit up water, trying so hard to catch a breath of sweet air. Then you’ll have nothing but water to breathe, and you’ll finally begin to surrender … sort of dreamlike because in the casket you’ll plainly hear your own heart beat its last thump-thump.” He grinned, a rising moon trapped in his black eyes. “And you have asthma.”
“You will burn in hell! You bastard!”
“Pack the witch in, brothers. Remove the rope from her wrists. I like to hear vermin scratch the wood.”
The men grabbed Courtney. She kicked. “No! Don’t listen to him! He’s the worst kind of evil. Dillon Flanagan is no prophet. He is the devil himself.” They used a sharp knife to slice the ropes from her wrist, shoving her in the coffin, quickly slamming the lid on, two men sitting on it, one man nailing it shut. Courtney screamed as the last nail was driven into the wood. The men set the coffin in the grave and began shoveling dirt and mud into the hole.
She kicked at the lid. Pounded with her fists. She took short breaths through her nostrils, the odor inside the coffin smelled of sawdust and mud. She lay there and listened to the sound of dirt falling against the top of the tomb. She prayed silently. Thought about her grandmother. “Sean, where are you?” Then she felt as if the walls to the tomb were closing in, her breathing labored, asthma coming on strong. She pursed her lips into the pipe that protruded inside the casket. She fought for her breath, her lungs burning.
Dillon stood over the grave and smiled, the full moon rising in the sky far beyond his shoulders. He bellowed, “I smell the promise of rain!”
Courtney screamed, used her fingernails to claw at the lid of the coffin, her mournful cry sounding as if it came from the center of the earth.
97
A rising full moon was my only light source driving the twisting logging road around the edge of a mountain. Tree limbs and branches raked down the side of the rental car. I set my phone on the center console and listened to Dave give me random directions from satellite GPS signals that could definitely see the forests, but not the trees. “Sean, looks like you’re within maybe three or four hundred yards from what appears to be the perimeter of Dillon’s compound.”
“What are you getting from Courtney’s phone signal?”
“It’s stationary, and it’s weak. Hasn’t moved in more than an hour. I’m worried.”
“How far do you think it is from where I am right now?”
“Mile, maybe a little more.”
“I’m running out of what’s left of this logging trail. Got to go the rest of the way on foot.”
“I’m following you. Stay off any obvious paths into the compound. You don’t know if they’re booby-trapped. He could even have buried a few landmines.”
I saw a text message pop up on my phone. Reading it, my blood ran cold. Dillon Flanagan wrote: I know you’re here little brother — during the great flood, God murdered everyone on earth except Noah’s family — He set an example for me to follow — bury your heart because Courtney will perish in the flood waters — and you’re next, as was Abel-
I sat in the car and re-read the text, my thoughts racing. I shut off the engine, grabbed a flashlight from the glove box, extra rifle cartridges, and stepped out into the light of the moon. The tall cedars cast shadows across the trail. I could smell pine needles and rain in the air. I glanced up in the sky, the full moon bright, but clouds in the distance, the dark guts of the clouds streaking with veins of heat lighting.
Dave said, “What’s happening? I can tell you’re not moving.”
“I just received a text from Dillon. I’ll read it to you. He said: ‘I know you’re here little brother — during the great flood, God murdered everyone on earth except Noah’s family — He set an example for me to follow — bury your heart because Courtney will perish in the floodwaters — and you’re next, as was Abel.’ ”
“Is that all he wrote?”
“Yes, but it’s enough. It looks like a hell of a storm is brewing over the mountains. Look on your satellite topography chart and find a low-lying area.”
“There aren’t many in the Blue Ridge Mountains.”
“Find someplace that might be prone to flooding. A valley or gorge, maybe. Someplace that could be susceptible to flash flooding, and somewhere close to Dillon’s compound.”
“Give me a minute. You think he stuck her in a ravine somewhere?”
“Yes. He said to bury my heart because Courtney will perish in the floodwaters. I think he buried her somewhere, and the rain is coming.”
“Sean, he’s laying a trap for you.”
Courtney tried to control her breathing. The coffin was almost airless, muggy and hot. Perspiration soaked her blouse. Her left cheek was throbbing and swollen from Dillon’s kick, lower lip puffed-up, dried blood crusted in one corner of her mouth. Soft light from the moon came in through the pipe, illuminating her face damp from sweat. She forced herself to stay calm. It was the only way an asthma attack wouldn’t return.
She thought about Boots, his smile and his kind encouraging words. She remembered the long talks she used to have with Isaac, and how much his dog meant to him. She remembered Sean’s dachshund, Max — her big brown eyes, the way she could catch a piece of food in mid-air. Courtney smiled. She thought about her grandmother. A single tear spilled from her eye and rolled down her cheek, falling onto the wood beneath her head.
She looked through the pipe, watching the moon, watching a wisp of dark cloud floating in front of the moon. The interior of the coffin darkened for a moment, and then the cloud passed, the light returning. She lay there, staring through the pipe, the light coming from so far away. And then a large cloud seemed to devour the moon.
And the interior of the casket was the darkest black Courtney had ever seen and felt.
98
Lightning popped in the sky above the Blue Ridge Mountains, each burst of light giving the mountains the look of dark purple dinosaurs slumbering since the ice ages. I used the light from the cracks of lightning to help me see through the woods, trying to stay off worn paths and heading in the direction of Dillon’s compound.
The rain began falling in large, heavy drops coming through the gaps in the tree limbs.
I plugged an earphone into my phone and said, “Dave, I’m close to the village. I can smell wood smoke. It’s raining. Can you hear me?”