“No bodies,” she said.
“No bodies,” he echoed. It should have been a relief, but it wasn’t. He felt as if someone else were having this conversation. “Then what?”
Tyler parked the truck beneath some trees a little way down the road. He killed the engine and didn’t move. Michael held his breath, waiting for Hannah’s answer. Hunter shifted closer, trying to listen.
Her breathing kept shaking. She was still crying. “Let me find out more, okay? Wait for me to call you back.”
“No! Hannah! What did they find?”
She choked on a sob. “Parts, Michael.”
“Parts?” He couldn’t make sense of the word.
“From the explosion.” Another hitched breath. “But they don’t know, okay? They haven’t identified anyone. Just wait. Wait ’til we get there.”
Michael couldn’t speak.
Parts. From the explosion.
“Thanks,” he said, and again, it was as if someone else were speaking for him, because his thoughts were tied up in panic and rage.
No wonder the building was still burning. No wonder they hadn’t found any survivors.
His brothers hadn’t been able to stop it.
Michael grabbed the door handle, but Tyler hit the locks.
“Stop,” he said. “Think about what you’re doing. We should have a plan.”
Michael could barely process that. Smoke was in the air and he needed to get out of this truck. He clawed at the lock as if he’d never seen one before. He needed—
Tyler grabbed him. “If some Guide blew up this place,” said Tyler, “he might still be here.”
“Good,” said Michael. The rage he’d felt earlier was nothing compared to this. His power was already reaching for the earth below the truck, ready to lay waste to the entire county if that was what it took. “I’m going to find him and kill him.”
“Not if I get to him first,” said Hunter. Metal clicked in his hands. Light glinted off his gun.
“Jesus,” said Tyler. He reached over and unlocked his glove box.
When he pulled out a gun of his own, Michael turned wide eyes his way. “You had a gun when we faced that guy in the woods?”
“I didn’t have it on me. I didn’t think I’d need to be armed to board up your front windows.”
Michael’s cell phone chimed, and he pulled it out of his pocket, expecting a text from Hannah. His heart leapt, hoping for good news.
But this text wasn’t from Hannah. It was from a new unknown number.
Did you honestly think I was working alone?
Michael didn’t hesitate. He typed back.
I’m going to find you and kill you.
The response appeared almost immediately.
Go ahead and try. Save me some time.
Michael started to reply, but another message appeared below that one.
I already took care of your brothers.
Michael stared at that sentence until it burned itself into his eyeballs.
I already took care of your brothers.
The letters blazed and blurred until he couldn’t make sense of them anymore. To think, earlier he’d thought he’d lost everything.
He hadn’t felt this kind of despair since his parents had been trapped in that fire.
“I need to get out of the truck,” he said. His voice was a wisp of what it had been.
Tyler hit the button to unlock the doors. The air was cold and still when Michael stepped out of the vehicle. He stood and inhaled, realizing that he was waiting for . . . something. A blast of wind, either too cold or too warm for the weather. Some sign of Nick’s presence or power.
Nothing.
It had been raining before, but the clouds had dissipated overhead, revealing a heavy white moon staring down at him.
Had the earlier rain been a sign of Chris trying to draw power? Or just nature playing out? Michael wished he’d checked a forecast. He had no idea.
But there was no rain now.
And the fire continued to blaze from the home. Gabriel would have tried to stifle it, to contain it somehow and help with the rescue efforts.
He kept seeing them in that hospital room, remembering how they hadn’t wanted to be taken away—but they’d gone. For him, because he’d asked. They’d gone with the social worker, and willingly, too.
Hunter stood beside him, immobile. Michael couldn’t look at him. If he looked at Hunter, all he’d see was the brothers he’d lost.
His phone chimed, and Michael almost chucked it at the ground. But he had to look. Just in case.
Just in case what? Just in case your brothers aren’t in pieces and they magically found a cell phone?
It was Hannah.
Where are you?
He didn’t answer.
“Kill the lights on the truck,” he said to Tyler. “I want to walk the property line.”
They all walked, clinging to the shadowed darkness beneath trees and along the fence line. Tyler might have been cautious, looking for hazards, but Michael paid no attention. He simply walked, and they followed. If the Guide confronted him, Michael was ready to fight.
If the Guide simply shot him . . . well, right now that might be okay too.
Another chime from his phone. Hannah again.