by Amy Cross
"Anything?" I ask.
"Shit," he replies.
"What?"
"Remember when we ran off the road on the way here?" He stands up. "I didn't realize it at the time, but we must have caused some pretty major damage on the underside. It looks like all the fuel's leaked out."
I stare at him for a moment. "Can we fix it?"
"Patching it up's no problem," he says, "but then we have to find some more gas from somewhere." He looks back over at Devil's Briar. "The odds are that there'll be some in the town, but we'll have to get looking. You want to come, or are you gonna stay in the truck?"
I pause, trying to decide what to do. "Can we call someone to come and pick us up?" I ask.
"We can try," he replies, "but signal's patchy around here. I tried to call the faculty earlier and tell them what we'd found, but I didn't have any luck."
"So we're stuck up here?"
He sighs. "If the worst comes to the worst, we can hike out. It'll take us a couple of days, but we can totally do it. Of course, finding a can of gas would be easier, and I'm sure someone in this damn place must have had some. You coming?"
I get out of the truck. "Before we go looking," I say, unable to shake the feeling that this little hurdle is far too convenient, "I want you to promise me one thing, Bill." I look straight at him, holding his gaze for a moment. "Promise me, hand on heart, that you didn't set this up just to keep us in -"
"Jesus, Paula!" he says, looking shocked. "Do you really think I'd do something like that?"
"Promise me!" I say firmly.
He stares at me. "No," he says finally. "If you don't trust me, that's your choice. You've clearly already decided that I did this on purpose, so why should I bother to try and make you realize you're wrong?" With that, he turns and walks back toward the town. Watching him, I try to decide whether or not I believe him. I want so badly to decide that I trust Bill, but at the same time I know that it would be naive to think he's not capable of pulling some kind of stunt. After a moment, I follow him. Whatever caused the damage to the truck, if there's any gas here, we'll find it faster with two of us looking.
Chapter Three
1925.
"Praise to the Lord," Thomas Paternoster says, standing by the cross while two dozen of the townsfolk kneel around him. "Let the Lord know that we hold him in our hearts as we go about our daily business. Let the Lord know that his glory is never forgotten. Let the Lord know that we are bound to him, and that we serve him as we toil in our lives. Finally, let him know that we are his humble servants, and that we offer our praise not because we expect his blessing, but because we recognize his virtue and his almighty wisdom. We bow to him. Amen."
"Amen," mutter the people gathered around the town square. Standing at the back of the crowd, I watch as Mr. Paternoster pauses. To my side, dear Victoria is on her knees, her eyes closed as she joins the prayer led by her uncle. She is so faithful, so honest and true. My heart bleeds at the sight of her, although at the same time I find her uncle to be somewhat distasteful. The way he has come to Devil's Briar and immediately sought the attention of the townsfolk is extremely distasteful. The man's ego clearly knows no bounds.
"Now I wish to say a few words about a man who has affected the lives of everyone here in a very different, but no less important, way," Mr. Paternoster continues. "A man who has selflessly put the needs of Devil's Briar above the needs of himself, and a man who only yesterday risked his life in order to end the reign of terror perpetuated by a crazed individual." He smiles at me. "I'm talking, of course, about your Mayor, Mr. Albert Caster."
The gathered congregation turns to me. Some of them get to their feet, while some of them remain kneeling, and I take a deep breath as I realize that these are still my people. My flock. They might be impressed by the efforts of Mr. Paternoster, but he is clearly no threat to me. Everyone understands that I am the true top dog in this town.
"Mayor Caster, won't you over here for a moment?" Mr. Paternoster says.
Struggling across to the center of the town square, leaning heavily on my walking cane as a smattering of applause is heard from the crowd, I eventually turn and see Victoria beaming as she watches. Perhaps I'm fooling myself, but there's a part of me that thinks the young lady is genuinely starting to feel some affection toward me. If that is the case, I feel I am in good stead as I seek to find a moment to raise the subject of marriage with her uncle.
"Mayor Caster," Mr. Paternoster begins, "I have only been in Devil's Briar for a short time, but it is apparent to me that these people hold you in great esteem. I have spoken with many of the townsfolk this morning, and not one of them has failed to mention your name and to tell me of their gratitude for everything you've done here. I merely want to add my voice to this chorus of praise, and to let you know that everyone is very grateful for your actions yesterday when you ended the murderous spree of Lawrence Evans."
I open my mouth to reply, but the crowd erupts into spontaneous applause, which quite takes me aback. Once the noise has died down, I feel momentarily lost for words. "Dear friends," I say finally, "first, let me say that although my bad knee prevented me from kneeling with you in prayer, I can assure you that I felt the magnificence of the moment with all my heart. This mighty construction will ensure that the name of Devil's Briar is soon on the lips of every person in the land. I'm sure I speak for everyone when I say that we owe Mr. Paternoster a debt of enormous gratitude."
The crowd applauds yet again, and it's noticeable that this time they seem even more enthusiastic than when they applauded for me a moment ago. I must admit that I never expected Mr. Paternoster to get his cross in place at all, and certainly not overnight, so I shall have to be careful in order to ensure that he doesn't overtake my own popularity in Devil's Briar. He is young, good-looking and endowed with seemingly great wealth, so it would be easy for the populace to be blinded by such qualities rather than recognizing the value of my own stability and fortitude. Glancing over at the smiling Victoria Paternoster, I see more than ever that I must marry her as soon as possible, in order that I am able to retain the undying adulation of the townspeople.
"I am quite in awe of your bravery yesterday," Mr. Paternoster says as the crowd begins to disperse. "How you were able to stand up to Lawrence Evans and shoot him down, with no thought to your own personal safety, beggars belief. I can only conclude that you are a man of great courage and determination. Your community is forever in your debt."
"It was nothing, really," I say, seeing out of the corner of my eye that Victoria is approaching us. "Lawrence Evans was a rogue. It was my duty to stand up to him, for the sake of Devil's Briar. I felt the strength of God in my heart, and I was most certainly not scared! I would have willingly given my life, if such an action would have saved this town from being further terrorized by that rogue."
"Praise to the Lord," Victoria says, smiling as she stands next to me, "and praise to you, Mayor Caster. The people of Devil's Briar could not be in safer hands."
"Mayor Caster!" calls out a nearby voice. I turn to see David Haynes hurrying over to me, with his wife Lilith and their young daughter Gilly in tow. "Thank you so much for saving us from that miserable Lawrence Evans," he says, shaking my hand. "I can't tell you how much more easily we all slept in our beds last night, knowing that Evans wasn't stalking our streets."
"It was nothing," I say, grinning as I glance at Victoria. "Really, nothing at all!"
"Did you shoot him in the head?" Gilly asks, raising her hand and pointing a finger straight at me. "Like this? Bang!"
"Gilly!" her mother says, pushing her hand down. "Go and play!"
"I'm bored!" Gilly replies.
"We'll play hide and seek," David tells his daughter. "Thank you again, Mayor Caster. And Mr. Paternoster, thank you for this wonderful gift to our community." He looks up at the cross, and the sense of awe in his eyes is unmistakable.
"It's my pleasure," Mr. Paternoster replies. "I hope to make Devil's Briar my home, and I
believe very firmly that a man should contribute to his community."
"We welcome you," David says. "It's always good to have a man of faith in our midst."
Once they're gone, I turn to Victoria. "Well, my dear. It's all very well standing around and being praised by everyone who passes, but I feel we have work to do. One must not let the adulation of ordinary citizens lead one to dwell upon one's own achievements."
"Is my niece performing her new role to your satisfaction?" Mr. Paternoster asks as we walk toward my office. Victoria stays a little way behind, as is appropriate for a lady. It is extremely gratifying to see that she understands her role, and to see that she naturally defers to us menfolk.
"She is doing extremely well," I say. "In fact, I should like to speak to you in private at some point, Mr. Paternoster, about a most important matter."
"I would be honored," he replies. "Let me know when would be convenient for you, and I shall be pleased to hear what you have to say. I have been struggling for some time to find an appropriate endeavor for my niece, and I feel that perhaps here in Devil's Briar I have finally succeeded in determining a clear path for her future. Believe me, Mr. Caster; it is difficult indeed for a man to decide where best to place a young lady in his charge."
"Perhaps we could meet this afternoon?" I suggest, sensing that I might have a good chance to secure Victoria's hand in marriage. "At around two o'clock?"
"I'll be here," he says as we reach the door to my building. He turns to his niece. "Victoria, ensure that you attend to Mayor Caster's every need. Try to show some initiative now and then, and learn the honorable gentleman's habits so that you're able to anticipate his every desire."
"I shall," she says politely, almost meekly.
"Good day, Mayor Caster," Mr. Paternoster continues, before turning and heading back across the town square. He seems so confident, so at home already in our small community. In some ways, I envy his easy manner.
"A most agreeable fellow," I say to Victoria as we enter my office building. "Tell me, where were you two living before you came to Devil's Briar?"
"Where?" she asks, sounding a little surprised. "Oh, it was a town somewhere. I'm afraid I can be very forgetful. Somewhere east, I believe. You'll have to ask my uncle for the details."
"Bring me a pot of tea," I say, walking into my office. Victoria helps me remove my fur coat. "I shall spend the afternoon going over some papers," I continue, "until your uncle arrives at two o'clock. You can send him straight in. In the meantime, I trust you'll be able to keep yourself busy with the reorganization of my filing cabinet. Adelaide had many agreeable qualities, but she was somewhat deficient when it came to organizing my paperwork."
"I shall endeavor to do you proud," she says. "And of course, if you see that spider again, please don't hesitate to call for me."
"Oh, I shall," I reply, watching as she hurries away. I feel more certain than ever that I shall acquire young Victoria Paternoster as my wife before the year is out. In fact, I'm even starting to think that the girl genuinely likes me. Then again, perhaps I'm deluding myself. Would a beautiful young thing really be taken with an aging, balding, rather plump man such as myself? I suppose she must be drawn to my masculine temperament, my power, and the bravery I displayed yesterday.
"I should fuck her up the asshole," whispers a voice in my ear.
Turning, I see that there's no-one else in the room. Nevertheless, I heard that voice, and it was terribly familiar. It was the voice of a dead man. Looking around the room, I half expect to see the ghost of Lawrence Evans grinning back at me, but of course there's no sign of anyone. My heart is racing as I hurry to my desk and sit down. The voice sounded so real and so close, yet it's obviously not possible that Lawrence Evans could return. He must surely be burning in the fires of Hell by now. I must have imagined that voice; it came from the back of my mind, and it was but a fleeting moment dredged up by my memory. Lawrence Evans is dead and buried, and all that's left now is to forget that he ever existed and block him from my thoughts.
Chapter Four
Today.
I hear it again. As I'm walking toward an old shed around the back of the hotel, I hear a single banging sound. Standing completely still, I listen to the silence all around. I'm trying really hard not to get unnerved by Devil's Briar, but this occasional, irregular noise is slowly starting to make me suspicious. It sounds like something knocking on metal, and obviously there are a number of perfectly rational explanations for such a sound: it could be a wild animal, or it could be some kind of metal structure expanding in the heat of sunlight. Nevertheless, to hear a noise among the dead silence of Devil's Briar is kind of unnerving, and only adds to the list of reasons why I want to get out of this place.
Heading into the shed, I look around for anything that resembles a gas can. It's hard to believe that, even back in 1925, some of the residents of this town didn't have gas, and we only need a small amount to refill the truck and get out of here. Checking the shelves in this little wooden building, however, all I find are a few old paint pots and some buckets. As I emerge from the shed, coming back out into the bright midday sun, I start to wonder if we might end up hiking out of here after all. The thought of walking through mile after mile of forest doesn't exactly fill me with joy, especially if my companion for the trip is to be my increasingly sullen husband. What's the alternative, though? Hang around Devil's Briar and hope someone finds us? The odds of that happening would seem remote at best.
I wander back around to the front of the hotel, hoping to find Bill. Although I'd dearly love to trust my husband implicitly, I can't shake the feeling that this whole situation is far too convenient. Bill was absolutely determined to stay in Devil's Briar for a few more days and explore. Eventually he agreed to leave, at which point we discovered the problem with the truck. He certainly has plenty of chances to go and sabotage the gas tank, but the question is: would he do something like that? Bill's a good man, most of the time, but he's dedicated to his work and I can't help thinking that maybe he would fake a problem in order to get his way. In that case, there's little point looking for a gas can when Bill's probably already got some squirreled away, and he'll undoubtedly keep it hidden for a couple more days until he's ready to 'find' it while he's poking about somewhere. Damn it, is it mean of me not to trust him? Or am I just being realistic?
"Hey," he says, coming across the town square. "Anything?"
"No," I say, shaking my head. "You?"
"Not so far," he replies, "but don't worry, we'll find some."
"I wish I shared your confidence," I tell him, "but if we're going to start hiking, we need to make the decision fairly soon."
He pauses, looking back across the town square. "Let's not panic just yet. There's still a good-sized part of town to search. I think we should spend the rest of today and tomorrow if necessary looking, and then if we can't find any gas we'll set off the following morning. We've got more than enough food and water, so there's no need to worry."
Sighing, I look up at the front of the hotel.
"I'm sorry for reacting badly earlier," he continues. "I just felt like you were accusing me of doing this on purpose. I can kind of see why you might think that, but I promise you I'm not. I've changed, Paula. Right now, my focus is on finding some gas and getting us out of here. You were right when you said I need to come back here with a proper research team." He pauses, as if he's waiting for me to tell him that everything's okay. "You believe me, right?"
"Yeah," I reply, being deliberately non-committal. I want to tell him that I believe him, and that everything's okay, but there's this feeling gnawing at the back of my mind that insists I can't quite trust what he's saying.
"On another note," Bill says with a grin, "I don't want to scare you, but did you hear a loud bang a few minutes ago?"
"Yeah," I reply, carefully keeping my cool. "It was probably just an animal or something."
"I guess," he says. "I haven't seen any animals around, though. Could y
ou tell where the sound was coming from?"
"No idea," I tell him. "I heard it earlier this morning as well, when I was waiting outside for you. I'm pretty sure it's nothing."
"Totally," he replies. "I'd just like to check it out, that's all." He pauses, as if there's something he wants to say. "So I guess we should keep looking for a gas can, huh?" he says finally.
"Yeah," I say, glad of the chance to get on with things. "I'll go and look on that main street we passed." Turning and walking away, I feel intensely relieved to be away from Bill. It's hard to look him in the eye now that I suspect him of tricking me into staying here. As I walk around the corner and onto the deserted street, I realize that once again I've allowed myself to end up totally powerless. I'm at the mercy of Bill's whims, and all I can do is wait for him to decide it's time for us to leave. How the hell did I let this happen again? Stopping at the door of the first building I come to, which appears to have been a pharmacy, I channel my anger into the process of breaking in. Picking up a rock from the street, I throw it against the window. The sound of smashing glass is strangely satisfying.
Climbing through the broken window, taking care not to get cut, I find myself in a dusty room with a wooden counter running along one side. All around, there are glass-fronted cabinets containing bottles filled with different-colored liquids. I walk slowly around the room, feeling as if I've stepped back in time. I stop in front of one of the cabinets and open the door, before taking out a long, thin bottle containing an amber-colored liquid. There's no label, so I have no idea what's in here; a little unwisely, perhaps, I pull the rubber bung out of the top and take a careful sniff. It smells like ammonia. I replace the bung and put the bottle back on the shelf, before turning and seeing a large, black leather book on the counter. Opening it, I find that it contains what seems to be a list of names along with descriptions of medicines prescribed to them. I leaf through page after page and realize there must be a couple of hundred names in here, which means this book can be used to identify the names of people who lived in Devil's Briar. It's not much, but it's a start and it'll help Bill's work.
