The pillory was crude and obviously homemade. It was T-shaped, with straps at the ends of the crossbeam for the hands and a chin rest where the crossbeam and the post met. It was low to the ground, meaning a person would have to kneel when strapped into it. Then, in horror, she realized it wasn’t just low to the ground—it was child-size. The sight of it sickened her and in the cloying, stale air of the house, she wretched.
If she thought this was where Beck had plied his trade, the graffiti daubed across the walls proved his innocence. In big, clumsy letters, someone had written: THIS IS WHERE DISRESPECTFUL CHILDREN LEARN RESPECT. It had been painted haphazardly, almost like a person signing a cast on someone’s arm. There were dozens of names written on the walls, as well. Beck’s name was among them. Next to each, there was one other detail. If she hadn’t been scarred by him, she would have mistaken the markings as meaningless gibberish, but she knew better. They were Roman numerals. Every child had them. Next to Marshall Beck’s name was XX.
That didn’t signify his number in the order of punishment. She could see where the numerals had been painted over and repainted many times. Beck wasn’t the twentieth child. He’d been punished in this room twenty times.
In this room, a monster had spawned a monster. In this room, the Tally Man had been created.
“Zo?!” Beck yelled again, his voice muffled by distance and glass. “It’s time to burn.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Marshall Beck touched the lighter to the small trail of gasoline. It ignited immediately, and an orange flame chased along the ground and into the grass. The tinder-dry vegetation caught without effort. The blades withered and turned black in seconds. As each one burned, it ignited the ones around it. The fire moved with a speed he found satisfying.
He knew he was being reckless. He should be running, not lighting fires, but he had too much invested in Zo? to give up now. He couldn’t let her escape punishment again. It was her time to die, today, now, even if it cost him everything.
He laid the fuel trails every ten yards or so, to either side of the dirt road. He went to each one and lit them to create an ever-expanding avenue of fire.
“No hiding from this, Zo?,” he murmured.
Once the fire took hold, he tossed the gas can, with the remaining fuel inside, into the training paddock. When the flames caught up with it, it would serve as an additional booster to keep the blaze going.
The fire moved swiftly, reaching both paddocks in minutes. The heat radiating off the pastures forced him to the center of the road.
He didn’t fear the inferno. Grass was a weak fuel for a sustained blaze. There’d be only superficial damage, and it would burn itself out quickly enough. But destruction wasn’t the point of this exercise. The fire just needed to last long enough to flush Zo? out. She’d been smart to hide in the grass. He could have spent all day hunting her and gotten nowhere. The flames would speed up their reunion. He just hoped they didn’t trap her and kill her—that wasn’t in the plan. She needed to die on his terms, after paying for her transgressions.
He jogged up and down the dirt road, from the stable to his Honda and back. He watched for movement and listened for cries, but found it hard to detect anything through the flames and towering smoke. It was providing her with unintended cover.
Then he realized a bigger mistake. He’d miscalculated. Instead of the fire driving Zo? toward him, it would drive her away from him. Worse still, it would push her into the protective cover of the tree line. He should have started the fire from the periphery to force her to the middle. He took solace in the fact that if she wanted to reach civilization, she’d have to come back to the dirt road. As long as he remained here, she couldn’t escape. If she wanted out, she had to come through him.
Beck disappeared behind a wall of smoke and shimmering flame, unnerving Zo?. She wanted him in full view, but took comfort in the knowledge that if she couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see her either. That meant she could move with the same freedom that he did.
The blaze chased across the paddock toward her. She guessed that it would be twenty minutes before the surrounding pastures would be totally engulfed.
C’mon, cops. You’re taking too damn long.
She could wait it out here. The house was quite a ways from the main fire and solidly built, so she’d probably be safe from the flames for a while. But she didn’t think Beck would be so patient.