Page 122 of The Midnight Knock
Kyla shrugged. “I looked high and low. Can you just grab us some more?”
Thomas spent an age behind the desk, turning a scowl from Ethan to Kyla long enough for Ethan to fear the man might be about to spoil everything. Hunter watched it all with curiosity. So, too, did Fernanda.
Finally, Thomas said, “I’ll just be a moment.”
When the man headed out the door, Ethan turned to the fireplace and discovered a second surprise: the stone eggs that had rested on the fire’s mantelpiece on every other evening were, now, nowhere to be seen.
Hunter said to the girls, “Thanks for the ride.”
There was a hard flatness in his voice. A dangerous edge.
Kyla and Fernanda hesitated a moment near the door.
Hunter went on. “I’m surprised to still see y’all here. You were in an awful fucking hurry.”
Fernanda said, “I apologize. We were dangerously low on fuel. We were afraid the car might not even make it this far.”
“And look at all the goodthatdid you.”
“I get it,” Ethan said, just as he had the first time they’d all met. “It’s dangerous out here. There’s no telling what kind of people could be looking for a ride.”
Kyla came to warm herself near the fire. Near Ethan.
“For what it’s worth, I felt bad about it. I’m sorry.”
Their backs to the others, Kyla flashed Ethan a glimpse of something concealed in the pocket of her jacket: a bar of soap, no doubt swiped from her bathroom. Her eyes scanned the junk on the mantel. She was looking for the eggs, too, and no doubt trying to avoid the same frightening conclusions as Ethan.
“Is it true what the man said?” Ethan asked, trying not to sound robotic as his mind moved in a dozen other directions. “That the pump here’s out of fuel?”
“I tried it myself,” Kyla said casually, though that fear was back in her eyes. “An hour ago, when we got here, I didn’t believe him. I went and squeezed the pump. It’s bone-dry.”
“Why didn’t you believe him?” Hunter said.
“I don’t know.”
Ethan was worried for Tabitha. Whatever Thomas was doing here, his sister wouldn’t have gone along with it. Not willingly.
Ethan remembered the explosion in the cafe last night.
He remembered Jack Allen saying,I will become a god in truth.
They didn’t have time to be bothered for long. There was creak from the porch outside, the shape of a body passing by the frosted window, but it wasn’t Thomas who stepped into the office. It was a woman in her late thirties, with tan skin and very dark hair tied back in a ponytail. She wore the kind of comfortable outerwear a well-off traveler would take on a camping trip: tall brown leather riding boots, gray cashmere sweater, black vest trimmed with fox fur. A camera hung around her neck. It looked expensive.
A large knife in a leather sheath rode on her hip.
It was Sarah Powers.
“Afternoon,” she said. “Y’all out of gas too?”
Only Ethan replied. He nodded carefully toward the parking lot. He said, “That’s your Rover?”
“It is. I can’t believe I ran dry. I thought I’d left Stockton with a full tank.”
Sarah took a few steps toward the coffee maker in the corner, rubbing her hands.
Ethan knew he only had a moment. While the others were distracted, he looked to Kyla, met her eyes, mouthed,Wait for me.
She nodded.
