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She was right. They all knew it.

Cedar nodded. “Let’s see if we can find a mercantile. Take what’s been left behind for ourselves, then check the barns for grain.”

“Might as well see if there’s liquor at hand while we’re at it,” Alun said. “For medicinal purposes, Miss Small.”

Rose shook her head. “No need to make excuses for me, Mr. Madder. I know you and your brothers polished off the last of the moonshine a week ago. And blew up your still.”

“All the more reason to restock,” he said.

“Would you help me get Mrs. Lindson into the wagon first?” Rose asked. “I don’t think she can sit the saddle for much longer and with dark coming on, I’d hate to discover she’d dropped off in a ditch come morning.”

“It’d be my pleasure.” Alun swung down out of the driver’s seat, dropping to the ground much more nimbly than expected from a man his size, and tromped over to her.

He and Rose coaxed Mae to dismount, then Rose led her carefully through the muck and mud to the back of the wagon.

Cedar stayed right where he was, one hand on his gun, his gaze restlessly searching the streets and houses for movement. The beast within him had gone still. Not because the danger had passed. No—because the danger was near upon them.

“You feel it, don’t you, Mr. Hunt?” Alun asked, coming back around the front of the wagon. He’d brought that monster of a gun with him and it rode slung across his shoulder with a wide leather strap so it could rest at his hip, in easy reach.

He took the reins of Rose’s horse and Mae’s mule from Cedar.

“The Strange?” Cedar asked.

“And more,” Alun agreed. “Death.”

“The Holder’s been here,” Cedar said quietly.

Alun’s head snapped up like he’d just been slapped. “Are you sure?”

Cedar nodded.

“How? How can you tell?”

“I can taste it on the wind. In the rain.” He could feel it in his bones too, just like he could feel the touch of the Strange left lingering in the crannies and nooks of the place. This near to a piece of the Holder, he felt like his bones were tuning forks, resonating with the awareness of that odd device.

“You’ve a promise to keep us, Mr. Hunt,” Alun began, “to retrieve the Holder.”

“I’ll see it stays kept, if it’s near,” Cedar said. “But not while Rose and Mae are in this town. Whatever thing drove off the townfolk lingers. Once the women are safe, I’ll hunt the Holder.”

“Then we best be quickly moving on,” Alun said. “See to the womenfolk.”

“This woman folk isn’t going anywhere,” Rose said, striding over from the wagon with a lit globe in one hand. “Unless it’s looking for supplies.”

“Miss Small—,” Alun said.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Madder, but my mind’s set on this. We need food. We need blankets. And any coal, bullets, or medicines this place might have stashed. Plus, there is no way in tarnation those two hayburners of yours are going to find enough to forage once we hit the snows.”

“This town isn’t a proper place for a lady such as you, Miss Small,” Alun insisted.

Rose pushed her hat back, the tips of her fingers bare and dirty at the nail though a knit glove covered the remainder of her hand.

“Look in my eyes, Mr. Madder. What you’re going to find there is exactly what kind of a lady I am. But since you’re in a hellfire hurry, I’ll spell it out quick for you. I am a very determined lady. And tonight I am determined to loot this town.”

She took the reins of her horse out of his hand, leaving Mae’s mule in his keep. Then she swung up into the saddle. “You menfolk can do what you want, but I’m going hunting.” She turned her horse into the town.

“I’ll go with her,” Cedar said. “Stay with the wagon.” He clicked his tongue and Flint started after Rose.

“There’s Strange afoot, Rose,” Cedar said.

“So you’ve said, Mr. Hunt. We have guns. They don’t. Between the two of us”—she paused and glanced off to her left, where Wil was slipping through the shadows between houses—“the three of us,” she corrected, “I think we’ll manage.”

Cedar smiled despite himself. The girl had more spunk than a pot full of peppers.

“I think that place there has a sign on it,” Rose said. “Maybe a post office and general store?”

They got close enough that the light from the globe Rose held up caught at the whitewashed letters on the sign, neatly outlined in black. “Brown’s General Store,” Rose read out loud. “Good place to start.”

She swung down out of the saddle and threw the reins over the hitching post.

Cedar did the same, cocking his gun before walking up the step to the door. “Hold the light high, Miss Small.”

She did so, the light coming down over his shoulder and dusting off the shadows. He pushed the door inward with only a bit of a creak.

The smell of death hit him hard and full in the face. In the light of Rose’s lantern, the bodies of four people lying on the wood floor came clearly into view. A man, a woman, and two young boys. Dead as dead could be.

“Oh, God rest their souls,” Rose breathed behind him.

Cedar strode into the room, but Rose hesitated. He heard her pull the shotgun she carried before stepping in.

He didn’t see anyone else in the long, narrow room. Nothing was moving, not even a scratching of rats. He crouched next to the bodies and turned the man over so he could see what injury had felled him.

The man’s eyes were missing. As if they’d been sucked out like a grape from its skin, leaving clean bloody sockets behind.

He was also missing his thumbs.

“Was it man or animal?” Rose asked, bringing the light with her. She caught sight of the man’s face and made a small sound in the back of her throat.

“It was the Strange. Or at least they smell of it.” Cedar rested the man back the way he’d been and moved the woman enough to see that she was missing both her ears and her nose. As for the young’uns, both of them had holes where their hearts should be.

“Indian don’t mutilate like this. Could be a white man who likes to collect souvenirs.” He frowned. “Not an animal, at any rate. I’ve never seen anything like this from Strange either. The injuries don’t add up to the thing that killed them. Well, except for the boys.”

The other injuries weren’t enough to kill a person right out, and certainly not enough to drop the entire family in a heap, as if they fell dead at the exact same moment.

Was that something the Holder could do? Fall down over a town and kill everyone dead? If that was the case, who, or what, had strolled through town gathering up body parts like they were out picking berries?

The bodies were cold, but no longer stiff. Fresh enough it hadn’t been long, but not so long the bodies had bloated. Whatever had dropped them dead had done it within the week.

“They look picked over,” Rose said. “Just bits taken.”

“Harvested.” Cedar stood and looked around the room. Stock and supplies filled the floor-to-ceiling shelves. There was enough food and blankets here to outfit them for the road. They’d just need to find grain and hay for the horses to finish stocking up.

“Looks like plenty here we can take with us,” he said. “We can load up and move on.”

“We’re going to bury them first.” Rose’s voice was tight, her face set in something more than determination. It was set in sorrow.

“Dig graves?” he asked. “Night’s upon us, Miss Small. Whatever or whoever did this to these people could be nearby. I don’t think slinging a shovel is going to do us, or in the long run them, any good.”

“I won’t leave them like this. And you shouldn’t want to either, Mr. Hunt. They deserve a decent burial. They deserve to have their souls put to a proper rest.”

“I agree they deserve a decent burial,” he said. “But it is too dangerous for us to administer it.”

“I’ve heard you,” she said. “But there isn’t anything about this new land that isn’t dangerous. That doesn’t mean we have to be the kind of people who turn away from the mercy at hand.”