“No.”
“They have a different head prophet now. I don’t know what happened to Esrom Stanton, the top guy in your day. I didn’t think to search for him.” He stroked her arm. “Where was your father in all of this mess?”
“My mom was one of seven wives. My father was much older. He didn’t live much past my fifth birthday.”
“Do they know polygamy is illegal?”
She shrugged. “They don’t care. Each husband has only one legal wife. The rest are his wives within the community only. In the eyes of the law, they aren’t doing anything wrong. Earlier this year, I’d decided that I had to go back and face them, face my terrors. And I wanted to visit my mother’s grave.”
“How’d that go?”
“They wouldn’t let me in.”
“Bastards. I’ll get you in. And if you like, we can have your mother moved to a cemetery in Laramie. Then you can visit her grave whenever you wish.”
Remi frowned as a new thought took root in her mind. She pushed herself up to see him better in the dark room. Greer also readjusted himself, sitting up so that he was at her level.
“I just thought of something. It might be coincidence.”
“What?”
“I’ve been studying the Friendship Community for three years. With no problems.” She felt Greer tense.
“I hate the thought of that, and all it means. You were there unguarded around the woodcutter.” He ran his hand down her arm. She took hold of his hand.
“Nothing happened, none of this trouble, until after I visited the Grummonds earlier this summer. What if…what if everything that’s happening has nothing to do with the Friendship Community? What if it’s because of me and Senator Whiddon—Prophet Josiah?”
Greer thought of that for a minute. He nodded. “Makes sense, at least, in the beginning. It’s caused us to discover things about the Friends that now implicate them as well. The senator’s deeply involved in King’s infrastructure, else he wouldn’t have been able to send the WKB after you. The WKB’s gotten real cozy with the Friends. From the sounds of that, it’s a new change. Something’s going on. What happened with you is just a symptom of something much, much bigger.”
He smoothed some hair from her face. “We’re going back to the Friendship Community tomorrow. Let’s see what more we can find out.”
Chapter Thirty
Wayne Dunbar had shifty eyes, Greer decided. And he looked anything but pleased to have him and Remi back in his community. He could simply demand they leave, but he didn’t, which fired off warning signals for Greer.
The number of people who came out to greet them was far fewer than before. He looked around at them, wondering what had changed in the community and if whatever it was meant he and Remi were in danger.
He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was different.
Remi was bartering the use of their cabin again in exchange for additional supplies the community might need. She made it sound as if she was close to finishing her article and wanted a quiet place, off the grid, where she could focus and be isolated to wrap it up. She was non-threatening, grateful, and offered a lucrative trade that had a firm end date: she told them she needed to be back at the university before the semester began.
“Where is your wife, Mr. Dunbar?” Greer asked.
The man blinked, and the pause before he answered was interesting. “She’s under the weather at the moment.”
“Oh no,” Remi replied. “I’m sorry to hear that. If there’s anything I can do—”
“Thank you, but I think it’s best not to disturb her. She has what she needs.”
*
Lion carried Sparrow’s feverish body through the woods. He hated going to the Friendship Community in the daylight; watchers were rarely ever seen. It couldn’t be avoided now—the boy’s condition was worsening fast.
The wool blanket he carried Sparrow in made Lion’s arms itch, but it kept the boy from shivering. When they reached the clinic, Lion set Sparrow down on the bench outside, then went in search of the healer. Inside, all but two of the cots were filled, though upon inspection, Lion realized that only half the patients still lived. He pulled sheets over the faces of those who’d passed. Whatever illness Sparrow had had come with him from the community. Most of those in the cots and all of the dead patients had the same sores on their skin as the boy.
One of the patients was watching him. “Thirsty,” the man hissed.
Lion fetched a cup of water and held it to his lips. “Where’s the healer?” Lion asked.
The man lifted his hand and tried to point to the two empty cots. “The creek.”
Lion nodded. He straightened to go, but the man’s hand shot out to hold him. Lion could feel the tough blisters on his palm and fingers. “Don’t leave us. Please. Don’t go, watcher.”
“I’ll bring help back. I’ll be back. I promise.”
He filled a fresh glass with water, then took it out to Sparrow, who looked at him with sad eyes, as if he knew his fate. Lion clamped his jaw, locking his emotions away.
“You’re going to be fine,” he told the boy. “You’re going to pull through this. I am Lion, and you are in my pride. You will live.” The boy wasn’t listening; he’d already slipped back into his fevered sleep.
Lion took out his phone and dialed Mad Dog. The phone ran only once. “S’up, Lion?”
“They’re dying.”
“Who’s dying?”
“Sparrow. The community.”
“What do you mean they’re dying? Where are you?”
“I took Sparrow to the Friends’ healer. He has a fever that I can’t break. And sores all over his skin. The infirmary is filled with the same sickness. Four of them are dead.”
“Okay. Stay put. Greer is there. I’m sending him down to check things out.”
“Greer.” Max’s voice came over Greer’s comm unit.
“Go, Max.”
“Get over to the infirmary.”