“Sonofabitch.” Ryan stood, smacking his fist into his palm. “That explains the van.”
“What van?” Eve asked.
“Some jerk in a panel van staked out Katie’s house last night. The guy gave her a scare.”
“Oh, no. Is she all right?”
“Yeah, I just left there. She’s fine, but a little shaken. Why don’t you call and check in? Tell her about Lyle.”
“I will.” Plainly worried, Eve dashed toward the kitchen and the phone.
Scowling, Caden eyed his brother. “I know you. You got her out of the room for a reason. What is it?”
“You’re right.” Ryan slid into the seat Eve had vacated. “I don’t like the idea of Lyle back in town, and if that was him snooping around Katie’s place last night, he’s going to hear from me. But that’s not why I’m here.”
Caden swallowed the last of his beer and set the bottle aside. He had a feeling the day was about to take a downturn. “I figured that.”
Ryan leaned forward, locking his fingers between his knees. “Last night at Katie’s, something scared the guy in the van away before he could cause any trouble. Something that terrified her.”
Caden stayed silent, certain where his brother was leading. Let Ryan drag the creature up if he wanted, but he had no intention of getting involved.
“You know what was there,” his brother said.
“I’m glad she’s safe.”
“Damn it, Caden, it’s back. You and I have both heard rumors of the Mothman over the last couple days, but Katie’s a reliable witness.”
“I never said she wasn’t.”
“Then do something.”
“Like what?”
“Find out what the damn thing wants. It’s connected with you in some freakish way. It’s bad enough Lyle crawled back into town, but I don’t want to have to worry about Katie turning into another Hank Jeffries. The thing scared her witless.”
“You told me it saved her. Chased Mason, or whoever it was, away.”
“That doesn’t matter. I don’t want it going back there.” Suddenly Ryan was an expert on the Mothman.
“And you think I can change that?”
“You’ve seen it up close. Hell, it saved your life more than once. If anyone has a chance of communicating with the thing, you’re the best shot.”
Caden glanced away. The feelings dredged up by the Mothman were not ones he wanted to remember. “I’ll think about it.” Ironic his brother had gone from not believing the creature existed a few months ago to suggesting he seek it out.
“Caden, I need you to do this.” Ryan stared at him levelly, his tone grave.
“I said I’d think about it.” In fairness, his brother didn’t understand how vulnerable he was when he opened his mind to the Mothman. Exposed to a deluge of fatigue and despair. It was almost like the damn monster wanted to die. Problem was, there were too many glory mongers and curiosity seekers who’d gladly help it achieve that goal.
Caden stood. “I need another beer.”
“What about the Mothman?”
“It’s Sunday and I’m watching the game. I told you’d I’d think about it. That’s the best I can do right now.”
Ryan swore softly.
“You want a beer?” Caden asked.
“No.” His brother stood, his expression tight. “Even if you don’t give a rat’s ass about Katie’s welfare, I do.” He headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Caden called.
“Where I should have gone in the first place.” Ryan wrenched open the door. “To the TNT.”
“Maybe we should try someplace else,” Duncan Bradley suggested to his brother.
Donnie stopped hiking and craned his neck to study the sky. At thirty-two, he was younger by a full year, but Duncan deferred to him when it came to trudging through the woods. They’d both grown up in Point Pleasant and had spent years exploring the TNT. Even so, Duncan tended to get turned around in the labyrinth of trees, ponds, and abandoned weapons igloos. Donnie had a sharper sense of location and the ability to pick out trails.
“Maybe.” He tugged down on the brim of his fluorescent orange cap.
Duncan rubbed his jaw, wondering if they were wasting their time. They’d been driving around for over two hours, parking their truck in random pull-off spots, then hiking back through the trees. They’d started with the spot where they’d seen the Mothman last June, but only succeeded in rousing a couple of archery hunters who grew irked at having their territory invaded.
Duncan had originally been keyed up about looking for “the bird,” but he was starting to think there were better ways of spending a Sunday afternoon. At home he’d be sprawled in front of the TV, watching the game and downing a cold one. He was getting hungry too. He and Donnie shared an apartment, but their mom invited them home for Sunday dinner each week. In another hour, she’d be serving up pot roast with brown gravy and whipped potatoes.
“Let’s pack it in for the day. Mom will have dinner ready soon, and we shouldn’t show up at the last minute.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Donnie scuffed a work boot against a gnarled root sticking up from the ground. “Looks like today’s a bust. We can always pick it up again some other time. I still say the creature’s out here.”
Duncan breathed a sigh of relief, already anticipating a Rolling Rock and debating football plays with his dad. Not that he wasn’t gung ho about the Mothman—he wanted him and Donnie to find the god-awful thing—just that sometimes football, food, and beer took priority. But as he turned back on the path, a strange whimpering sound drew him up short.
“Hey, did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Donnie stopped beside him and shook his head. “I didn’t hear anything.”
“Listen.” A slight breeze rustled the orange and yellow leaves of the trees clustered around them. Somewhere in the distance a crow called and another answered. Five seconds of silence followed. He frowned. “I thought—wait. There it is again.” A whimper, like an animal in pain. “Do you hear it?”