I come to a big twelve-foot-diameter circle of fresh upturned soil. It reminds me of the circle in my dream last night, only there’s twine dividing it up, like a geometric puzzle. Maybe sectioned off for a garden.
I step over the twine to get a closer look at the pile of trash in the center of the circle, but the more I look at it, the more deliberate it seems, as if the items have been placed here with great care. I rub my arms, but it’s not the chill in the air giving me goose bumps. There’s a pair of gloves on the handlebars of a little kid’s bike, an elaborate men’s belt buckle with a bull on it, clumps of dirty hair stuck in the ground, a jar of deerflies, and a Bible open to Genesis 4:12. I know that verse. That’s the story of Cain and Abel.
“Lee,” I whisper. This is all his doing. A sick feeling twists inside me. I stagger back out of the circle, nearly tripping over the twine. This isn’t trash at all, but some kind of fucked-up shrine to my family. The gloves are covered in dried blood—they’re the same gloves that went missing when I discovered the calf. The bike is Noodle’s. I’ve been looking for that thing for over a year. The jar of flies—he must be the one who’s putting them in the house. And the belt buckle belongs to Dad. That’s his 1982 rodeo championship prize. One of a kind. The same one we buried him in.
I make it to the edge of the woods before I get sick, and when I look up again, I can see the twine isn’t some random puzzle. The circle’s been roped off to form a six-pointed star. A pentagram.
Lee’s the one who’s been orchestrating all this. Not Tyler. It’s beyond blackmail at this point; it’s personal. He wants my family to suffer for what Dad did to him. But I’m not putting Jess at risk to protect Dad’s secret. To protect our legacy. Dad ruined that when he stepped out on Mom. Then again, we were ruined a long time before that. When our ancestors sold us out for land. For this. I grab a handful of soil and throw it as hard as I can.
I hear a rustle, something snap in the pines. I whip around but there’s no one there. Could be an owl, or an old branch, or it could be something a hell of a lot worse than that.
As I’m hauling ass back to my truck, I dig my phone out of my pocket and call Sheriff Ely.
He doesn’t pick up; I leave a message.
“I went out to the campground looking for Jess. I know, I know, but there’s something you need to see out there. And I think you may need to check Dad’s grave, too. By the way, Lee is my half-brother. Just found out yesterday and I guess now you know why he and Jess shouldn’t be together. Find her for me and I’ll do something for you. Put all your money on Midland tonight.”
50
AS I pull into my spot at the back of the lot, it looks like a scene right out of some cheesy high school movie, not the center of some doomsday prophecy.
Everyone’s decked out in red and black, the pep girls are out in full force—their soft bodies, easy smiles, ripe for the taking. Not that I ever would, but most of them make it clear they’d do anything for the team. Sometimes I think it would’ve been better that way, just to get it over with, but even now, with everything that’s going on, I look at Ali waiting for me by Tyler’s car, and I know why I haven’t done it. I feel it all the way to my bones. I want Ali to be my first … and my last. That much I’m sure of. And I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure we get that opportunity.
People are flitting around like it’s Christmas morning; there’s an undeniable electricity in the air, but the longer I look at the scene, the clearer it gets.
All of the students seem to dance around the Preservation Society kids, what’s left of them, circling, hovering, but never making direct contact, like they’ve been choreographed on an endless loop, and I can’t help thinking of the flies.
The flies.
“Hey!” Dale opens my door, nearly giving me a heart attack.
“Jesus, Dale.” I sigh as I get out of the truck.
“Why haven’t you called me back and what the hell happened to your hair?”
“Not today, Dale,” I mutter as I grab my bag.
He sits on my hood. He knows how much I hate that.
“What? You’re too good for me now that you’re back on the team? With Ali?” He’s flicking a lighter over and over again and all I can think about is my nightmare last night—that girl being burned alive.
I knock the lighter out of his hand and grab his shirt, pulling him off my truck. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
He blinks hard. “What’s gotten into you, cuz?”
“Just back off.” I let go of him and walk toward Tyler’s car. I feel bad, but I don’t want him anywhere near me right now. There’s too much death and uncertainty.
Ali slips her arms around me, running her hand over the back of my head, over the quarter-inch stubble. “There you are,” she says, and just like that I could melt into her, forget last night ever happened. But I can’t do that anymore, because tomorrow, Miss Granger will be back with the priests and all of this will end. One way or the other.