Because now he was wanted by the FBI.
Part Three
33
As storm clouds darkened the sky and spat cold rain, Ed left his trailer to check out Their home on the other side of the lake.
Sitting at his bedroom window eating green beans straight from the can, he had watched the white van depart the house and roll away down the street, soon traveling out of sight. He waited for a while before he made his move, to be sure the vehicle didn’t come right back and he was forced to confront Them on Their turf.
Convinced the coast was clear, he brought four members of his family with him, big, strong hounds. All of the dogs wanted to tag along, and he had to shut the door in their faces to keep the entire family from getting out. Scratching at the door, they yelped, whined, and barked in protest.
“Ed will be back soon, okay?” he said. “Ed’s going to check on something around the lake. Don’t worry, Ed’s coming back.”
He had a flashlight, the binoculars, his cane, and his bowie knife from the war, too. He hoped he didn’t need to use the knife.
But if it meant saving a dog from Them, he would.
It was raining hard. He zipped his fatigue jacket and flipped up the attached hood.
Moving slowly, he picked his way around the lake and into the forest, mud squelching under his boots. As if aware of the gravity of their mission, the canines kept pace with him, occasionally halting to shake the rainwater off their coats.
The woods were wet, dense with the mingled odors of pine sap, wild flowers, damp earth. He lifted the binoculars to his eyes. The lenses were specially coated to offer a clear field of view even in rainy conditions.
Through the trees, he observed that no lights were on in the home, and he didn’t see anyone inside through the windows, either.
He grunted, lowered the binoculars. Maybe he’d been wrong about this. Maybe the men in the van really did work for a heating and cooling company, and maybe they had left for good, their work done.
Maybe there were no dogs inside that needed to be rescued. Maybe They had nothing to do with this house at all.
He didn’t know. Sometimes-most times, it seemed-he found it hard to think through things clearly. A fog often lay across his mind, obscuring his ability to reason logically. In the past, he’d only get that way after knocking back one too many cans of Budweiser, but these days he seemed to be like that all the time-except for the temporary, brief periods of clarity, like he was probably experiencing right then.
You’ve lost your mind, Ed, a harsh voice said. What the hell’s the matter with you? It’s only an empty house, and those guys in the van probably had every right to be there. There is no Them; there never was. There is only the world and the ordinary people in it, and you’ve lost touch with the whole damn thing, and that’s why Maggie took your little girl and left.
Fear rose in him. He could literally taste it at the back of his mouth-sour and acidic, like bile.
This was why clarity of thought didn’t visit him often any more. It scared the shit out of him. It gave him a frightening glimpse of what he had become: a bedraggled recluse who lived in a cramped, filthy trailer full of more dogs than he could possibly manage, nursing absurd delusions and quietly rotting away.
He shook his head. No, no, no!
He swallowed thickly, and the bitter taste faded off his tongue. He spat into the weeds, dragged the back of his hand across his lips.
Then, he raised the binoculars again.
He had to find out what They had been doing in that house. They had been there all day, and it could be only for some nefarious purpose.
Redoubling his grip on the cane, he trudged forward.
34
When Jada awoke, it was so dark in the room that she temporarily forgot where she was. She jerked upright, trembling, her pajamas damp with perspiration.
Mom, Daddy, where are you? she screamed. Mom, Daddy!
Crying, she ran to the door. She beat her fists against it, hoping her parents would hear her, though she couldn’t be sure of how much noise she was making.
It must not have been enough, because no one came to get her.
She’d been abandoned.
Her chest swelling painfully, cheeks wet with tears, she felt a huge sob building in her stomach, and she pulled in deep breaths and struggled to keep it down. Her parents would want her to stay strong. That was what Daddy would say. Stay strong, Pumpkin. You can do it. You can do anything in the world.
The only thing in the world she wanted to do was to get out of there and go home.
There was a light switch near the door. She flipped it up and down a few times, but nothing happened.
She wiped her eyes, sniffled. She would have to handle being alone in the dark. She was nine. She was old enough to deal with it.
She padded to the window. Through the gap, she saw rain falling from the dark sky. “God washing the world clean,” as Grandma Rose liked to say.
She stuck her hand between the slats of wood and touched the glass. It was cool. She could feel the steady thump of the rain as it struck the window. She tapped the glass with her fingers and tried to imagine how the rain sounded.
As she peered through the planks into the murky world beyond the glass, her eyes widened.
Someone was outside.
35
Ed emerged from the woods and entered the yard, which was all sucking red clay, no grass. The dogs trotted ahead, paws leaving tracks in the thick mud.
On this side of the home, the driveway curved to the garage. There were long, narrow windows set in the sectional doors. Steeling himself for a gruesome spectacle, Ed approached the windows, wet boots squishing, and peered inside.
It was too dark to see anything. He panned the flashlight in there.
He found a bare cement floor, nothing on the walls. There were no dogs, maimed, dead, or otherwise.
He sighed with disappointment. Where had They hidden their evil handiwork?
One of his dogs, the same female black Lab/Great Dane mix who’d wandered off yesterday, left his side and circled to the back of the house, ears perked.
“What is it, girlie?” Ed asked in a whisper. “Smell something? Hear something?”
The dog disappeared around the corner. He followed her, the other three canines at his heels.
From his observation point at home, he hadn’t been able to see the rear of the house. There was a long concrete slab that served as a patio, accessible through a set of glass doors, and several windows on the ground floor level.
But the black Lab was watching an upstairs window. She glanced at Ed, looked back up there, and whined, tail wagging nervously.
“What’s wrong, girlie?” he asked. “What’s up there?”
He raised the flashlight, and looked.
What appeared to be bars covered the window.
He frowned, certain that his eyes were fooling him. Squinting against the rain, he took a couple of steps closer to the house, keeping the flashlight aimed at the window.
Yes. They were bars of some kind. What in the hell-
Suddenly, a small hand materialized in the darkness.
He screamed.
Spinning around, slipping-sliding in the mud, a ragged cry roaring from his throat, he fled back into the woods as fast as his sixty-year-old legs would carry him.
36
The rain’s persistent tapping and the lengthening shadows had lulled Simone to sleep, warm thoughts of going home floating through her mind. But Jada’s sudden, muffled cries snatched her out of slumber and lifted her off the mattress.
“Mom! Daddy! Where are you?”