Page 45 of Sins of the Fathers
“What the hell,Dawson? Where the fuck are you two going at three in the goddamn morning?” Denny, grouchier than usual after being awakened, glared at them through bleary eyes. Angel sat next to him, looking displeased at having her sleep disturbed.
“Gotta stop a fire.” Dawson and Grady had pulled on clothing so fast in the dark that only now did he realize they had switched their shirts.
“You’re not making any sense, boy. Slow down.”
“Had a vision. Someone’s going to burn the hardware shop. Need to stop them,” Dawson explained as he laced his boots.
“The sheriff—” Denny objected.
“Isn’t going to believe me.” Dawson cut him off. “We haven’t exactly spread it around that I see things that haven’t happened yet. Can’t imagine he’d be willing to get someone out of bed without evidence.”
“What’s going on?” Colt and Knox came to the kitchen doorway looking rumpled.
“Dawson says he’s had a warning about a fire,” Denny remarked.
Knox’s eyes widened, and he paled. “Fuck. He’s right. I didn’t know it before, but now that he’s said it, I’m sure.” He looked to Dawson. “There are delivery pallets in the alley behind the store. Go there first.”
“I’m coming with you.” Colt looked defiant.
“We’ve wasted enough time. Stay here, and make sure someone doesn’t try to torch the house,” Dawson snapped. “I doubt this is a one-man arson.”
He grabbed Grady’s arm and maneuvered them both out the door. “Stay inside and keep your eyes open,” he called over his shoulder to the others. “I’ll call when it’s over.”
As they got into the car, Dawson tossed his phone to Grady. “Call Gibson. I don’t care if it’s three-o-fuck-in the morning. Tell him what’s going on. Sheriff Rollins won’t move his ass for this, but I’m betting Tucker and Gibson will.”
The Mustang roared into the night. Dawson had a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel as Grady made the call and put the phone on speaker. Gibson answered on the second ring.
“King—what’s up?” He sounded far too alert, and Dawson suspected the agent hadn’t yet gone to sleep.
“This is Grady. Dawson had a vision about arson at Knox’s hardware store. We’re heading there. Can you back us up?”
“Visions? No one said anything about fucking visions. Now?”
“Yeah,” Grady snapped. “Do you have our backs or not?”
“Don’t get your panties in a wad. We’ll meet you there.”
A weather alert sounded on Dawson’s phone. Grady glanced at the screen. “Storms coming in. High winds, thunder, heavy rain. Dark and stormy night, huh?”
“Just our luck.”
Grady ended the call and sat stiffly in the passenger seat, tension having obliterated any remnants of sleep. “What, exactly, did you see?” Grady asked as they raced down the darkened road.
“A shadowy figure slinking around outside the store, and then the whole place going up in flames,” Dawson replied, voice tight. “Been having these visions long enough that I know the feel of one that’s a ‘maybe’ or a ‘soon’ and a ‘right the hell now.’ This wasnow.”
“Watch out!” Grady shouted as a huge buck with flaming antlers appeared from nowhere to block the road.
“Hold on!” Dawson had no room to maneuver. He braced for impact, with no choice except to hit the creature head-on.
The Mustang raced right through the figure, which vanished around it like smoke, although it had looked solid seconds before.
Dawson’s stomach clenched and his heart pounded. “You okay?” he managed, breathless.
Grady nodded, taking a moment to find words. “Was that a—?”
“A not-deer,” Dawson replied, taking a deep breath to still the way his body shook from adrenaline.
“There was something wrong with the way its eyes were on its head,” Grady began.
