Page 45 of Into This River I Drown
“Bah,” Walken says. “Semantics. That’s what it could have been regardless. It
could have just burned up upon entry and then fell apart when it landed.” “Or, it could have been one of those drones they’ve got along the Mexican
border,” Smoker says coldly. “You’ve supposedly got an FBI agent in town out of the blue, and then something falls out of the sky on the same day? I’m not a believer
in coincidence, Walken.”
“A drone, you say.” Walken laughs. “If that’s the case, it must have gone the
way of the meteor, then, wouldn’t you agree? I assume a drone would have left
debris.”
“Unless that kid got to it first,” Smoker snaps. “You were the one who saw his
truck.”
“I can’t be sure of what I saw,” Walken admits. “It looked like the Ford, but I
was in such a hurry. And besides, it didn’t look like Benjamin driving.” At hearing my name upon his lips, my blood freezes.
“It could have been that other guy,” Griggs says. “That big fucker that tried to
start shit at Little House.”
“What did you say his name was?”
“Blue. Cal Blue. Or Calliel or some shit. Supposedly from California. Still
waiting to hear back from the DMV to see if there is any record of him on file there.” Oh, Jesus. Cal. Fuck, what if he sees my thread? No. Stay away, Cal. In my fear,
I try to push Cal as far away from my thoughts as I can.
“And if there’s not?” Walken asks.
“Then obviously he’s lying,” Smoker says. “Which means he has something to
hide. And this close to a moving date, I don’t deal well with unknown variables.” “Speculation, all,” Walken says. “He’s probably just Benji’s ass buddy. Lord
knows that boy has been alone for so long. Maybe he’s just found someone to give
him attention. Big Eddie’s death was hard on him.”
“Fucking faggots,” Smoker spits.
“Quite,” Walken says, sounding amused. “We’ll keep an eye on him, and this
Cal Blue. Actions can be taken if necessary. I’ve sunk too much money into this…
venture… to let it fail.”
“I say we just take them out now,” Smoker snarls. “Kill the fucking faggot
before he goes any further with this. He’s already—” He’s cut off suddenly, a gurgle
coming from his throat.
There’s movement above me from the window, and, for a moment, my panic is
