Page 53 of Property of Scythe
We both chuckle. Mountainisa lumberjack. His family owns Coleman Lumber Company. He splits the ownership with his four brothers.
“Do you think he’s going to show?”
“The psycho clown? Yeah. He’s too fucking narcissistic to miss the opportunity.”
“That’s probably because we made a new prop with a noose around an Art the Clown costume and left it where he could find it.”
Phantom was generous enough to donate his costume for it.
“Yeah, it was a killer idea,” I laugh.
Phantom shakes his head. “That was awful. Worst joke ever.”
Yeah. Probably.
Phantom pauses beside me as we watch over the line outside the corn maze. He fidgets as he cracks his knuckles. I know he wants to smoke, but this is a non-smoking area on purpose. All the straw, dry leaves, and hay will burn up in a flash.
It’s too risky. All it takes is a strong gust of wind and . . .wait. “Do you smell smoke?”
Phantom sniffs the air. “Fuck.”
We run into the corn maze, pushing through the crowd as I see black smoke rising into the air. It’s coming from a section in the back part of the maze with the largest stacks of hay bales.
I race beside Phantom as he pulls out his phone and dials Mountain. “Tell him we need water now!”
I don’t want to use fire extinguishers because that makes a mess that fucking sucks to clean up. Water will dry. Even if it gets muddy around here, it’s better than chemicals and foam.
We find the source of the smoke, and it’s a small fire, smoldering, but nothing we can’t handle. We spotted it in time. If it had gone unchecked, it would have burned down the maze and ruined the attraction for the rest of the year.
Phantom pulls a water bottle from his pocket, and I do the same. Together, we pour enough liquid to smother the flames. It’s a crisis averted, and I’m relieved.
When Mountain finds us, there’s nothing left but a bit of smoke. “Well. Damn. I guess we’re good.”
“Don’t you think it’s odd that a fire started right here?” Phantom asks, gesturing to the wet hay bales. “There’s no accelerant or anything flammable.”
He’s right.
Mountain shakes his head. “I hope this isn’t a distraction.”
If it is, it’s well played. We’re all here instead of checking on the rest of the festival and hayride. “Go back to the hayride, Mountain. Phantom, you’re with me. We’re walking the whole damn lot.”
An hour later, I stop at the shack. Phantom is staying close to the corn maze. Mountain hasn’t moved from the hayride. Both the main attractions are safe. There are so many people playing games and walking around that it’s hard to tell if the psycho has returned. He might not always use his Art the Clown costume. I’m guessing by now he’s ditched it since the cameras outside Lottie’s building caught him in the act.
We don’t know his identity yet, but Boomer is working on it.
The staff are busy tonight. Not many have time to stop inside the shack. We kept the severed arm a secret from most of them, so only club members knew about the body part given to us as a gift. I do a quick walk of the building to be sure nothing is tampered with and check in with the prospect I posted at the door.
“How’s it been tonight?”
“Good, Pres. High traffic, but no one stays long. It’s a busy night.”
Just like I thought.
“Stay sharp.”
“I will, Pres.”
The kid is eager, and he reminds me of Chris.
