Page 43 of Wilde's End
Kennedy pulls a face at me that immediately looks guilty. “You’ve got broken fingers.”
“Don’t need them to ride.” I hold my hand out to Kennedy. “I know you have them.”
His eyes flick to the phone, and Hart groans. “For fuck’s sake, Kenny. You can’t keep a secret to save your life.”
“He doesn’t like to lie,” I defend. “That’s not a bad thing.”
“Whatever. I’m still over half an hour away and can’t stop you from being reckless. Go for a ride. Kill yourself. See if I care.”
I hold my hand out to Kennedy, and he looks like he wants to argue for a second before he pulls the keys from his back pocket. The thing is, Kennedy could easily stop me if he wanted to. We’ve wrestled before for fun, and while I’ll never admit it, I really did try to win. He’s just a strong motherfucker.
Luckily for me, he’s also too sweet for his own good.
We all fall silent as another car approaches, and this one does the same slowdown to stare at us before taking off again.
“Was that another car?” Hart barks.
“It was.” I head for the dirt bike. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
They don’t bother to argue with me. I guess they know me too well for that.
My ankle doesn’t love holding my weight for as long as it has been, but as soon as I get the bike started and take off, it gets relief at last.
I have no idea where I’m going as I hit the dirt path, but I figure if I found Wilde’s house once, I can do it again. It’s almost completely dark now, and as I round another bend, I spot something glowing through the trees. Like lights, but a fair distance from the gravel road.
I pull to a stop and try to judge the distance, wondering if that’s where those cars ended up.
Well, I won’t find out from up here.
I take the first track to the right and follow it as far as I can before it branches off again and again. I’m going deeper into the forest, loudly announcing my approach and trying to keep the lights in sight while I deal with the trees and strangled bushes blocking my view.
The closer I get, the less it looks like cars and the more it looks like something bigger. I finally find a wider path, wide enough for a car, that looks like it will lead me in the right direction.
I slow as I approach, taking in the solid, dark timber wall that’s maybe fifteen feet high and the chaos of bulky SUVs, trucks, and vans parked right beside it.
What the fuck is going on?
I park the bike and climb off, pacing closer until I find a breakin the wall that must serve as the entrance. Two people are standing there talking to Booker, and as I watch, he nods, and they pass, entering the weird building.
“Hey, Doc,” I say, stepping out of the shadows. He doesn’t look at all surprised to see me.
“Sorry, Hudson. It isn’t time to remove your stitches yet. Come back later.”
“You know I’m not here about that.” My gaze climbs the large exterior wall. “What is this?”
“What is what? Life? The universe? Our creation?”
I pin him with a glare. “What’s going on inside? Just behind you. Why are all these cars here? Is it a party or something?”
Booker’s lips tremble. “Or something.”
“Want to be more specific?”
“Not especially.”
“Can you anyway?”
That sweet face lights up. “It must be so irritating for you not to know.”
