Widow Town (28 page)

Alien yellow light filled the air moted with scales of ash.

They drove through it along the road that would fade and reappear with the breeze. Gray looked up through the truck’s window at the sky and saw that not only did the smoke coat the sun, but a layer of clouds had a
lso formed, tumorous and thick.

He took Danzig’s phone off the console again, thinking for a second before dialing a number. A man’s voice answered on the second ring.

“Sheriff’s department.”

“Please
connect me with Sheriff Enson.”

“He’s out of the office right now, can I please
—”

“He damn well better be out of the office, there’s a forest fire rampaging across the next county. This is Sheriff MacArthur Gray and you will put me through to him, son, if you enjoy
being employed by the county.”

“Yes sir, sorry sir.
I’ll patch you right through.”

“Thank you.”

There was a hesitation and short bark of static before the phone began to ring again on the other end.

“What is it?” Enson answered, his voice rough as if he’d been coughing.

“Well good afternoon to you too, Mitchel.”

A blast of silence. “Gray, what the h
ell do you think you’re doing?”

“Well at the moment I’m headed toward the Barder residence to arrest Darrin and Adam for murder, attempted murder, kidnapping, arson, breaking and entering, and anything e
lse I can think of on the way.”

“Are you insane? The Barder boys? Vincent’s sons? They’re who you
’re trying to pin the fire on?”

“Since they’re the ones that started it, yes, I am, along with all the other t
hings I mentioned before that.”

“You’ve completely lost it, Gray
. Everyone thinks you’re dead.”

“Mark Twain summed that up nicely about two hundred
twenty years ago. In other words, I’m not.”

“You need to turn yourself in, this fire isn’t stopping, Gray.
You have a lot to answer for.”

“Are you not listening to me, Mitchel? Darrin and Adam are the killers, it’s been them the whole time, them and someone else that’s been planning this. They’ve been kidnapping women and children from Widow Town and now they’ve taken Lynn. I need you to send
backup out to their farm. For once in your life, Mitchel, do the right thing and trust me.”

“Don’t go anywhere near the Barders’ farm, Gray. You’re delusional and you need help. Besides the fire’s headed in that direction, the whole a
rea’s turned into hell itself.”

“Remember this conve
rsation, Mitchel, because I’m going to recite it when I see you released from your position.”

“Fuck yo
—”

Gray ended the call and put the phone in his chest pocket
.

“So it went well, I take it?” Danzig said, his eyes never leaving the road.

“One thing you can say about Mitchel, he’s consistent.”

“Consistently ignorant
.”

“Yeah.”

“So we’ve got no cavalry coming?”

“None, he won’t risk sending any of his deputies in front of the fire.
”

Danzig sighed, the sound mimickin
g the wind buffeting the truck.

They passed into the edges of town, the buildings obscure and hazy in the strange light.
There were no other vehicles on the road, the streets parched veins devoid of flowing traffic and people. On the north side of the city limits they got their first glimpse of the fire.

It was a wall of flame shooting fifty feet in the air. Its lapping tongues twisted and turned in the wind as it rolled forward, stretching out in a wave of orange and black boiling smoke. The border of a cornfield ignit
ed, fire branching out across its green stalks like a web. In less than a minute the entire field burned, coiling embers into the sky.

Gray pulled his eyes away from the devastation and
drew out Danzig’s phone again, dialing his own office one last time. A recording played in his ear, telling him to leave a message but he hung up before the tone.

“How long you think we have before that reach
es the Barders’?” Danzig asked.

“Maybe an
hour, not more than two.”

“What’s our escape route?”

“Take six west until we can circumvent it I suppose.”

“We taking these boys alive?”

“We’ll see.”

Danzig guided the truck onto the county road, having to slow to a crawl to make sure it was the correct number. They drove in silence, flakes of ash sliding across the windshield. When the Barders’
turn came into view Danzig coasted into the drive and shut off the headlights.

“
We going in through the front?”

“I think we have to. Hopefully the sick bastards haven’t killed their
father and we can get him out.”

They cruised up the lane, the trees to either side
cloaked in a thickening darkness as the day fell around them. The house came into view and movement caught Gray’s attention near the garage door. Vincent hauled a large duffle to the back of his car and hoisted it into the trunk. His blond hair was in disarray and his movements were jerky and frenetic. A man in the grip of panic. The doctor’s gaze fell upon them as they coasted to a stop and it almost looked like he was going to return to the house without addressing them, but he waited, his eyes flitting from Danzig’s gas-masked face to Gray’s bloodied appearance, then to the weapons they carried as they stepped out of the truck.

“Hello
, doctor,” Gray said.

“Sheriff, what’s going on?”

“There’s not a lot of time to discuss this. Are your sons inside?”

“No, they’re closing up all the outbuildings and silo. We’re getting ready to leave.” The doctor’s drawn face collapsed. “Is this about Ryan? Did you…did
you find him?”

“No,” Gray said, glancing across the stained air of the farmyard to the looming shapes of the barns and silo. Nothing moved but the
dancing cornstalks in the field beyond.

“Then what’s this about? We need to get moving, the fire is coming
in this direction.”

“Your sons started the fire,” Gray said, fix
ing the other man with a stare.

Barder froze, all the frenzied movement of before leeched from him.

“What?”

“They came to my house last night and trie
d to kill me.” Gray unzipped his coverall, showing the other man the blood-glazed hole in his side. “They took my ex-wife with them after dousing my home and yard in gas.”

The doctor shook his hea
d once, his mouth hanging open.

“No,
that’s impossible. They were home last night, they were here.”

“I saw their faces, doctor, they were in my house. I’
m sorry, but that’s the truth.”

“No. Why would they do that? They wouldn’t hur
t anyone, they’re not killers.”

“We need to get out of the open,” Danzig said, cradling his shotgun as he surveyed the outbuildings.

“They’re good boys, my sons. They wouldn’t do that, it’s not true.”

“I’m sorry, doctor. I wouldn’t ever make an accusation like that without knowing for sure.”

“No, they’re…they’re my boys. They’re not—”

T
he doctor paused and slowly stopped shaking his head. He blinked, frowning.

“What is it?” Gray asked.

“I…I heard something last night and I thought I was dreaming.”

“What was it?”

“I thought I heard a…a woman scream.” He looked up into Gray’s face, the caving of belief sagging his features. “I thought I was dreaming,” he repeated, his voice growing weak.

“Okay, it’s okay. We’ll work all this out. What I need now is to get Darrin and Adam to come in peacefully and we can talk about everything. There’s no need
for this to end in bloodshed.”

Vincent’s head bobbed but his eyes were blank, his lips moving as if he were
silently reading something.

“Let’s go,” Gray said, putting a gentle
hand on the doctor’s shoulder.

They walked abreast down the center of the path between the outbuildings. Danzig drifted to the right, checking a shed door that was locked with a large padlock. Gray and Vincent moved left along the immense steel-shelled barn. The wide sliding door was closed and
locked, as was the man-door beside it. All was quiet except for the hushing whisper of the corn and the gusts of wind from the east bringing a subtle rumble that was more felt than heard. The air moved like something alive around them as they walked through it, seeing no more than a hundred yards in any direction.

The silo came closer as Danzig rejoined them, shaking his head when Gray looked at him. The towering structure stretched up into the
choking atmosphere, a rounded obelisk obscured by the drifting smoke. The outlines of a steel door solidified and Gray approached it, placing his hand on the knob. It turned easily. He motioned to Danzig who raised the shotgun, positioning himself directly in front of the entry.

“Please, just be careful and don’t
hurt them. Please,” Vincent whispered.

Gray
considered the doctor for a moment and then tipped his head once before he shoved the door inward and paused, raising the pistol from his side. Danzig kept the barrel pointed into the silo and finally nodded. Gray swept inside, keeping low and tight to the wall.

The air smelled of grain above the stink of smoke. A deep, heady scent that seemed tangible enough to cut. A pile of wheat stretched from one side of the silo to the other but came barely past Gray’s height in the center, the edges sloping down to bare concrete floor. The steel walls flew up to the cathedral ceiling six stories above
and an eyelet of sky winked through a small hole in the vaulted roof. The circular space was dark and still.

Gray waved one hand behind him, motioning the other two men inside and began to move around the perimeter, his vision a
djusting to the dimness. A long grain elevator and its chain leaned against the wall, running up to and ending at a paneled access door high on the silo’s side. Cobwebs undulated in the drafts. Their footsteps echoed and crackled with the chaff beneath their boots. Gray kept the barrel of the gun moving as he walked, both hands on the grip. Glancing over his shoulder he saw that Vincent was following Danzig in the opposite direction. The wind creaked against the building, the entire structure griping with the pressure. On the opposite side of the wheat, they met and stopped, Gray lowering the gun to his side.

“They’re not here,” he said, glancing at the doct
or. “Where else could they be?”

Vincent shook his head. “I don’t know. There’s the old root cellar but
we haven’t used that in years.”

“Where is it?”

“Farther down the path, but there’s no reason for them to go there, it’s locked and below ground.”

Danzig scanned the high walls and then n
udged some wheat with his boot.

“They must’ve saw us coming and ran,” Gray said. “Let’s take a look at the root cellar and then we’ll have to leav
e, there’s no other choice.”

Danzig nodded and began to walk away. Vincent followed as Gray threw a final look ar
ound the silo. He took one step, the sound of his boot clunking on wood very loud. He looked down at the wooden panel set in the floor, as wide and tall as a man. Its surface was painted the same color as the pale concrete and it blended perfectly save a finger hole drilled into one end. Gray stomped on the panel again, listening to the hollow thunk.

“Doctor, what’s this?”

Vincent came back and studied the board.

“I think it’s the main elevator motor housing. My workers usually handle all of the harvest, I j
ust oversee from time to time.”

Gray knelt and placed his index finger in
the hole, lifting the panel up.

A steel door was set in the fl
oor beneath it.

It resembled the hatch of a submarine, its riveted face and crank handle having the appearan
ce to withstand vast pressures.

“What the hell is that?” Danzig asked, leveling the shotgun at the door.

“I don’t…I don’t know,” the doctor said, bending to look at the horizontal entrance. “I’ve never seen this before.” He tipped his head up and looked from Gray to Danzig and then back to the hatch. Slowly he stood and put a hand against the wall to steady himself. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Have a seat,
Vincent,” Gray said, guiding the doctor to the floor where he sat with his knees bent, glassy eyes staring at the pile of wheat.

The shrill ring of Danzig’s cell phone burst from Gray’s pocket and they all jumped. Gray winced at the pain that radiated through his stomach with the tensing of his muscles and dug out the chirping phone. When he saw the number on the display he touched the answer button and put it to his ear.