All the Colors of the Dark — Chapter 13

13

At ten o’clock Saint leaned against a truck and watched the search party.

“He’s dead.”

She turned to see Chuck Bradley and two of his friends.

She heard a little laughter, but it didn’t carry far, like it was rote, like even they knew it wasn’t the place.

“Shit, those reporters in town, making the kid sound like a hero.”

“He’s a little thief. I remember when he broke into the Johnsons’ garage.

Stole a mower.”

“We’re at twenty-four hours, right?” Chuck said. “Everyone knows once that passes…kid’s dead.”

Saint swallowed when Chuck turned to her.

“Missing your boyfriend? Go cry to your dyke grandmother.”

“Enough.”

Saint stared up at Dr. Tooms, who sent the boys on their way. He wore a

sport jacket and the kindest smile.

“Dr. T,” she said.

He turned.

“All that blood…”

“Bleeding…it often looks worse than it is.”

Chief Nix came over, touched the doctor’s arm gently and sent him back to the walkers.

Chief Nix knelt to her level. She smelled his cologne and beneath it the sweat. “I asked around. I know you and him…you’re close. More like family, right?”

“You have to bring him back now,” she said.

“He wanted the girl. And he got your friend instead. Now we’re taking that as a good sign. You’ve got to keep faith.”

She saw Sammy, the drunkard owner of Monta Clare Fine Art, smart in his starched white shirt, five-button vest, and laced low tops. His eyes told that he had not slept either, like the entire town felt it. “How’s the Meyer girl doing?” Sammy asked.

Nix was about to speak when they heard the call.

They stopped dead as one woman raised her hand.

Nix tried to keep Saint back, but she slipped from his grasp and ran toward, stopping cold when she saw it.

Nix pulled on a glove and held the small cloth up to the light.

Saint looked at the purple and the silver star and almost cried out.

They would search that land for three days. Through pleats of dogwood, breathing honeysuckle and witch hazel and elderberry. The group would thin, but Saint would stay with them, begging local kids to help out.

She would not sleep more than a few hours each night.

She would be there to watch each second of their summer die.

OceanofPDF.com