Page 135 of Roses Are Dead
He rattled off an address, and I scribbled it onto the palm of my hand.
“Tell me that Rose is with you and safe.”
John was as bad as Wolf. “I can’t do that.”
“You asshole.”
More than one child piped up demanding a coin for the swear jar. “Blame that one on me. I’m going to try to find her, okay?”
“You are?”
Was I? Yes. Even if she hated me for being a demanding, ego-driven jerk, I’d save her from Carl. I finally answered his question. “Yeah.”
He quickly relayed information where the church foundation had been laid, and described where her grandmother’s old farmhouse was just in case. “I’d guess Carl would choose the church, though.”
It sounded like a place he’d choose. I thanked John and ended the call. Then entered the address into my GPS.
Right before I left Carl’s, I touched the hammer hanging from the chain around my neck. As I did, I used my thumbnail to dig at that last hashmark as if I could cancel it out by will alone. “Odin, Thor, grant me strength, wisdom, and speed. I need that woman.”
The night turned darker and more violent. Wind gusted across the road, pushing me around every time I broke into the open. I fought for each mile.
And the entrance to the property was blocked. It was one of those fancy electronic gates that only worked if you had a transmitter in your vehicle. I had to leave my bike there and slip under the gate to proceed on foot.
My boots slipped on the loose gravel as I ran along the road toward the hill that loomed in the distance. I missed my damn running shoes.
A flash of lightning bounced through the clouds. The distant rumble of thunder followed after a few moments. The wind picked up again, pushing against me.
My feet pounded on the soil. With each stride I drove myself to move faster than I ever had before. Visibility was for shit. Low clouds clung to the valleys as the storm overhead boiled in place. Another bolt flashed behind the clouds, with that meager light I picked out the shape of Carl’s truck.
The cab was illuminated by the dome light. While I couldn’t see what was going on, I sensed Carl was there. He was digging around for something, but I was too far away to rush up on him. And if I kept moving like I was, he’d be sure to notice me. I slowed down for stealth, crawling along the edges of the road and keeping hidden by the overgrowth of weeds that had taken over the slope.
The light cut off and I heard the soft thud of the door. Within minutes, I finally reached the top of the hill and slipped next to the truck.
I used it for cover to spy on Carl.
And froze.
Rose was strung up like a sacrifice. Naked and limp. Her skin was bruised and, in some places, cut. Blood trickled from a wound on her ribs. It snaked down her body and dripped from her toes.
My knees gave out.
I was too slow. My body had failed me.
33
Roishin
The cloudy day was now night, and the sky filled with roiling clouds, vengeful in their turbulence.
In the time I’d been knocked out Carl erected a stack of wooden pallets, sticks, logs, and other detritus. The odor of gasoline overpowered the ozone and ichor in the air. Red containers littered the grass around me like unlit candles in a gruesome hex circle.
He yanked on the rope he’d rigged to the flag pole and wrapped around my wrists. It lifted me a few more inches above the stack. I kicked and screamed trying to wiggle free, but like a fish on a reel, he methodically snared me in his trap.
Carl studied me. A scowl darkened his face. Suddenly, he brightened. “Oops! I forgot something.” He said it almost as if it were an afterthought, but supremely important.
When he came back from digging in the truck, he held my athame in his hands.
I stopped all attempts to find footing and wrapped my ankles around the wooden post. It halted my flailing, which was probably a bad thing, but I’d be damned if I wasn’t prepared for his attack.
