by Hallie Lee
Although disconcerted by his uncharacteristic bossiness, I saw Fireman’s point. I pulled into Luke’s auto body shop, feeling relief as I saw Bella and Meadow through the window. My relief was short lived however, when the crowd bounded our way.
“What’s going on?” I mumbled, but the incited group rushed right past us. Fireman didn’t bother with a response, and instead hopped out of the truck as if he had a pressing matter to attend to.
“Uncle Wolf!” Bella tackled me with a hug, followed by Meadow, and Luke, who seemed to pulse with adrenaline. “Luke talked to the crowd and got everyone settled down.”
“Good,” I said. “But what’s going on that way?”
Desi and Lenny approached with Robin and the kids, while the sheriff peeled off, rushing in the same direction as the crowd. Sirens blared as the EMT van sped past us, along with a line of pick-up trucks topped with spinning dome lights.
“Volunteer firemen,” Lenny said. “Looks like Jesse’s church is on fire.”
“What? I just drove past there.” But when I turned, I saw a huge billow of smoke, and the first sign of flames bursting from the chapel’s roof. Panic dropped low in my stomach.
Sterling, Violet, and Petey, ran toward the fire.
“Violet?” shouted Micah. “Where are you going?”
“To help put out the fire.” Robin’s daughter’s face flooded with excitement.
“Don’t worry,” Micah told Robin. “Petey will watch out for her.”
Lenny bounced on the balls of his feet. “I should—”
“Don’t even think about it,” Desi warned. “But let’s get a little closer. Maybe there’s something we can do.”
I cautiously wandered over with them, the knot in my belly deepening with apprehension. Despite all the volunteers and the unlimited access to water, the church had quickly gone up in flames. While keeping my eyes peeled for Fireman, I handed out bottled water to the volunteers.
Unfortunately, Jesse stalked the scene like a restless panther, feverishly searching for someone to condemn. As his gaze scrutinized the onlookers, I busied myself adding ice to the chest of energy drinks.
“Praise Jesus,” someone said. “At least nobody was inside.”
“Amen,” said Petey, who walked among the gathering, intermittently patting old women’s shoulders, and delivering firm, encouraging handshakes to the men. “And thankfully we were able to contain it before it spread to James’s church.”
As mutterings of assent swelled, and a sense of optimism bounced between the volunteers, Charlie Wayne said, “Never understood why we needed two churches side by side anyway.”
James tramped along the edges of the debris, positioning himself at the center of the crowd. “Come this Sunday, I’d like to invite everyone right next door.” He pointed to his church, only yards away from the destruction. “We’ll pray together, and enjoy some worship music.”
Even from several feet away, I sensed Bella gasp, undoubtedly considering the added pressure of her performance Sunday.
A mumbled curse sliced through the atmosphere, and everyone pivoted as Jesse shook his head, his anger and hatred palpable. “You.”
Filled with dread, I met his furious leer.
“You did this. Look at his hands, everyone.”
Reflexively, I hid my hands, realizing too late it made me look guilty.
“They’re black with soot.” Jesse stalked over, pointing. “And your fingers. Look.” He closed into my space, narrowing his eyes. “You did this.”
“He came from that direction,” someone confirmed. “I saw him when he drove up.”
“And the fire started right after he got here,” another of Jesse’s mouthpieces chimed. “I think Jesse’s right.”
“That’s ridiculous,” said Lenny. “Brad’s garden went up in flames last night. It takes more than one shower to get that stench out.”
“Yeah,” Redflyer revealed his own ash smudged hands. “And we didn’t have access to fancy fire hydrants. Or trained volunteers. We put it out all by ourselves.”
“Wait,” said the ancient Chester, who lingered next to Claire. “Look at the kid. His hands are even worse.” The ornery man latched on to Fireman, who’d slipped unwittingly into the crowd. “That’s fresh grime. And he stinks like gasoline.”
As the outrage intensified, Sheriff Rick stepped in. “All right. Let’s everybody calm your britches.” His face flashed beet red. “Is that what we’re doing here? Convicting a little boy based on a smell test? On when he last showered?”
Sprite cleared his throat, spoke reluctantly. “The little guy did buy five bucks worth of gasoline this morning. And I watched him fill up a gas can.” He glanced regretfully at Fireman. “Sorry kid, but burning down a church is bad juju.”
As everyone shouted back and forth, Fireman ran off at a gallop, his small frame weaving in and out of bodies with the skill of a linebacker. Just before he knocked two stunned old ladies to the ground, I plucked him. “Shh. Take it easy,” I whispered. “I’ve got this.”
“Sheriff!” Jesse shouted, enraged. “Arrest that little mongrel.”
Trying to maintain a sense of order, Sheriff Rick pleaded with the overexcited crowd. “Folks, relax. Let me do my job.” He approached us with an exaggerated sigh. “What are we doing here?”
I held Fireman firmly behind me, meeting the sheriff’s eye. “He didn’t do it. I did.”
As a hush swept over the scene, Jesse couldn’t contain his smile.
I proclaimed loud enough so my voice could be heard by everyone: “Jesse set my garden on fire. I wanted revenge. I did it.”
“I didn’t set your garden on fire,” Jesse said. “But Sheriff, it seems you’ve got a confession. Finally. Now can we get on with the arrest?”
“But he didn’t do it,” Bella cried. She looked helplessly at Luke. And then at me. “Why are you saying this?” Meadow held Bella on one side, while Luke braced her on the other. “It’s not true,” she cried.
I felt the ragged jerks of Fireman’s little body as he dissolved into tears. My grip remained firm as I bent to offer him soft, comforting words. “Just be cool, little man. Be cool.”
Sheriff Rick shook his head. “All right. I’ll take care of this. I want everyone to go home.”
“But—” Jesse interrupted.
“I’m going to arrest Wolfheart,” the sheriff snapped. “But I want everybody out of here. Right now. Or you’ll be next.” The sheriff signaled Quietdove and Max, who started rounding everyone up, herding them toward their vehicles, or on their way on foot.
“Go home,” I told Meadow. “Bring Bella. Don’t worry about me.”
“You’re too good for your own good.” Meadow eyed me knowingly and then led Bella to her car.
Luke coaxed Bella into the seat next to Meadow, and sent them off with a weary wave. I felt as forlorn as he did, watching my niece and her daughter disappear toward the creek.
Jesse snickered, clearly delighting in my moment of shame. “It’s long overdue, hoodlum.”
Fireman clung to me, sobbing, as the sheriff approached with a pair of handcuffs. “You’re a mean sheriff. You’re the worse sheriff in the whole world.”
“Let’s go, Wolfheart,” the sheriff said. “We’ll get out of the spotlight and talk in the station.”
But Jesse followed us inside, and strolled gleefully toward the jail cells. “It’s time to put you in a cage where you belong.”
“Wait,” Fireman cried. “No, wait.”
“Kid,” the sheriff pleaded, filling his hands with taffy. “Don’t you have somewhere to go, buddy?”
“Please don’t put him in there,” Fireman sobbed, holding on to me tightly.
When he tugged me down to his level, he whispered, “I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I made him better. I helped him.”
“What?” I crouched lo
wer. Glanced at the sheriff, “Can we have a minute?”
“Make it quick.”
“What do you mean you made him better?” I asked softly. “Who’d you help?”
“Madhawk.” Fireman’s tears moistened the hair around my ear. “He made me get medicine at your house. He said he was gonna kill my granny if I didn’t.”
“You did what you had to do. Where did you see him? Tell me slowly.”
Fireman glanced at Jesse, who was holding the cell door open with a mocking smile. And then he cupped his hand around his mouth and breathed salty tears into my ear. “He’s gonna hurt Bella. And her mama. He said once he got strong again, he was gonna get them on the creek,” Fireman sniffled. “And I helped him get better. And you’re in jail because of me, and now Bella and her mama are all alone. It’s all my fault.”
“That’s enough,” Jesse griped, running his hand along the rungs of the cell to make a clanking sound. “How long are you going to allow this, Sheriff?”
Sheriff Rick sighed, giving me the eye. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”
“Wait!” Fireman cried, “No, wait!”
Before the sheriff hauled me to the cell, I leaned down, and whispered urgently. “Fireman, “Go find Luke. And tell him exactly what you just told me. Hurry.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Spirit Warrior
Luke
M
adhawk wandered through the swampy wetlands along the creek, marveling at the heaviness in the air. He would need to move on soon. Probably to Oklahoma where the old biddy had some family. Maybe, if he were feeling generous, he’d send for her.
The medicinal herbs, disinfectant, and bandages from the boy had helped him recover from his injuries. And the food and bath at the fancy house on the lake, followed by the needed rest at Peony’s, had energized him, and renewed his focus to complete his plan.
But he’d lingered too long in the marsh, and now he needed to get the job done and disappear.
He’d seen Wolfheart head to town earlier, which meant that Bella and Meadow would return soon after Meadow’s mail route. And they’d be alone.
Madhawk had his knife, which he could handle blindfolded, and to improve his odds, he’d brought a crowbar from Peony’s shed. While they were mere women, there were two of them, and capable of an array of trickery.
Madhawk positioned himself in the brush ahead of the bridge, drawing stick figures in the dirt to occupy himself. His plan was to catch them before they crossed the bridge and headed toward Wolfheart’s place. There would be dogs at Wolfheart’s, and although Madhawk had been successful using seasoned steak to control the mutts before, the mongrels might rear up to defend the women.
He’d fantasized about slaying the dogs as well, along with the chickens and the cats, but his wounds had humbled him, and after today, he’d be content with what he’d accomplished.
He’d killed his rival, Axe, as well as the overly glorified Spirit Warrior. He’d punished Peony for not putting him above everyone else, and for treating him as something to be tolerated, rather than celebrated. In the end, Madhawk had shown none of them mercy.
Nor would he show mercy to Meadow and Bella.
His only regret was not having time to end Wolfheart. But then, Madhawk chuckled to himself, he’d leave him to rot in his grief. He’d have nothing then, not even his precious garden.
The sounds of a car approaching the bridge drew Madhawk to the present, and the familiar clanks and rattles of Meadow’s clunker sent a rush of adrenaline through him. He gripped his knife in one hand, and held the crowbar in the other, enjoying the weight of the tool against his thigh.
Madhawk walked onto the road, blocking the car from the bridge. He smirked at them, enjoying the look of fear on Bella’s face as she pressed her phone to her ear. He doubted she’d get a signal in this dead zone, but it wouldn’t matter anyway. He’d be long gone by the time help came.
Meadow slammed on her breaks. Stupid woman. She could have run over him if she’d wanted. Madhawk moved swiftly to the stronger of the two, planning to take her out first, before she got her bearings. He’d use the crowbar since it was efficient. And fast.
He yanked the driver’s door open, his eyes locking on the nasty, mean-spirited Meadow. Both women screamed as he grabbed Meadow’s arm and yanked her out of the vehicle.
Madhawk recognized the glint in the hardened woman’s eyes too late, and when she lunged at him, he staggered. She used her fingernails like tiny razors, slashing viciously across his face and eyes.
As rage swept through him, he couldn’t resist one last insult upon ending her life. “Your daddy cried like a baby when I slit his throat.”
He lifted the crowbar. Quick. Effective.
“Noooooo!” screamed Bella, jumping out of the passenger side.
But it was too late. The crowbar had made contact, and Meadow crumbled, her legs giving way as she collapsed to the ground in a heap. Madhawk leered at Bella with a twisted grin. “Bye-bye Mommy.”
Bella rushed him, striking his chest, and kicking his shins. But she was powerless. “You are a silly child,” he snorted.
But like her mother, she demonstrated a flash of…something. Determination? Defiance? This time she aimed her punches for Madhawk’s shoulder and neck, where his wounds were still healing. He experienced a swell of agony, and faltered as vomit rose inside of him.
Emboldened, the brat pounced again.
But Madhawk had regained his footing. “Enough!” he glared at her, his fury sparking anew.
His tone frightened her, and she turned, running toward the bridge. “I can run faster than you,” she shrieked over her shoulder. “And I’ll get Uncle Wolf’s gun!”
As Madhawk chased her onto the bridge, his breathing became labored. He forced himself to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.
He was almost close enough to grab her shirt. Just one more inch and he’d be able to get a hold—
But then Bella stopped on the middle of the bridge.
Her halt was so abrupt, Madhawk grunted as he nearly crashed into her. She pivoted, and looked over his shoulder. And she did the strangest thing. She smiled.
Disconcerted by her expression of calm, Madhawk turned to see what had drawn her attention.
He gasped. “Oh…oh.” He didn’t recognize the plaintive sounds emerging from his chest, and as the pathetic mutterings continued to pour out of him, his legs grew wobbly. His nemesis, the Spirit Warrior, stood over Meadow, furious and set on revenge.
Madhawk trembled as Peony’s great champion growled, and his blue eyes turned red with rage.
“But…I…” Madhawk swiveled to Bella, who was still smiling, her demeanor fearless and unafraid.
He turned with dread back to the Spirit Warrior. “But I killed you.” As Madhawk continued to babble incoherently at the terrifying vision before him, the ground quaked and shifted beneath him. He stumbled, his legs rocking unsteadily as he desperately tried to gain footing.
But still the mighty gladiator moved closer, bold and defiant, vengeance dripping from his glistening tongue.
Madhawk’s heart pounded as his bloodthirsty opponent closed in on him, and as the ground beneath him gave way, Madhawk’s heart burst inside his chest.
The Spirit Warrior’s ferocious blue-red eyes and sneering, snarling face were the last things Madhawk saw before his world went black.
•
I pushed my pragmatic gray car to its limit on the way to the creek, winding recklessly through unforgiving, narrow country roads, and roughly along treacherous potholes and gullies.
I also threw caution to the wind, and broke the law when I pressed the call button on my cell phone. “It’s about time you picked up,” I shouted at the sheriff when he answered. “What if somebody really needed help?”
“I just got J
esse outta here, and Wolfheart told me what was going on.” He cursed. “We’re on our way. Just stay where you are. Where are you anyway?”
“I’m about a mile from the bridge.”
“Don’t go any further. Wait for reinforcements, dang it!”
I hung up, punching harder on the accelerator. Not even thinking what I’d do if I encountered Madhawk. All I knew was I had to get to Bella, to see her in one piece. But when I saw Meadow’s vehicle parked at an odd angle at the foot of the bridge, and a crumpled figure on the ground next to the driver’s side, my fear escalated.
“Please God,” I muttered, unable to verbalize a coherent request. “Please.”
I threw my car into park, racing over with an increasing sense of dread. “Meadow,” I shook her gently. “Meadow.” I stabbed the button with the sheriff’s face on my phone again, this time, praying specifically for reception.
“Ughh,” Meadow groaned. “Bella…”
“Make sure you bring an ambulance,” I shouted into the phone, hoping a few of my words were audible through the broken call. I inspected Meadow, who had a severe gash on the right side of her forehead. I took off my shirt, pressing it firmly against the wound.
“Ouch,” she tried to sit up.
“No, no. Just stay still. Help is on the way.” I asked tentatively, “Bella?”
“Bella,” Meadow sobbed. “I don’t know. I can’t remember what happened after he hit me with the crowbar. Madhawk. It was—”
“I know. So does the Sheriff. Help is coming.”
As she collapsed into tears, I again tried to temper the bleeding, but my shirt came away soaked with blood. I peered over the hood of the car, looking for signs of Bella or Madhawk. I saw nothing. “Meadow, can you hold this? And press hard? I—”
“Go. Go find her.” She took my drenched shirt.
I placed my phone next to her. “Just keep pressing hard. I’ll be right back.”
The instant I stood up to get a better view, I spotted the abandoned crowbar several feet to the front of me. As I moved toward it, I realized with growing horror that something else was off with the landscape. But it wasn’t until I got to the edge of the bluff that I grasped the enormity of the situation.