All the Wicked Girls

by Chris Whitaker

  Noah glanced at Purv.

  The gun was shaking wild in Raine’s hands.

  “Summer Ryan. Did you take her? I ain’t askin’ again.”

  “Shoot me,” he said. He beat his chest with a hard fist. “Shoot me where you think my heart beats. You’ll see what bleeds outta me. Your sister came to me in the night. She asked me to show her the sights.”

  “He’s crazy, Raine. Black will find out what he knows. Or your father, we’ll get Joe to come here, and your uncle Tommy. Both of ’em, they’ll make him talk.”

  “Send them. I like to be in company. I’ll hollow out their fuckin’ heads though.” The Bird made a gun with his finger and thumb and aimed it at Noah.

  And then he ran at Raine, and he was fast for a man his size.

  The gunshot echoed.

  The Bird dropped to one knee, his right ear gone, but then he was up and he reached out and grabbed hold of her.

  The gun fell from her hand.

  She screamed.

  Noah moved fast, grabbed Raine, and threw her toward Purv and Amber.

  The Bird roared, then went for the gun.

  Noah beat him to it, picked it up quick and fired.

  The bullet buried deep in his chest.

  Noah fired again.

  The Bird fell back to sitting, raised a hand to the hole, and grinned at Noah. Blood emptied from his lips.

  Then Raine was on him, punching him and kicking him and screaming at him.

  He was gone before they dragged her off.

  *

  “That was stupid, Black. Fuckin’ stupid.”

  They sat silent. They’d heard more shots but they were far off.

  “You should’ve run.”

  Milk shook his head. “Ain’t what we do and you know it.”

  “Yeah.”

  “There was a time . . . I questioned you. I wondered, if a call came, I wondered if I weren’t better with somebody else. Just ’cause –”

  “It’s all right.”

  “It ain’t,” Milk said.

  In the distance they heard sirens.

  Black listened out. “Three cars.”

  “They’ll hear ’em too, make their move or leave.”

  “I know which I’m hoping on.”

  “It’s over,” Milk yelled.

  Off to the right they saw the last smoke of a small fire.

  Black rolled his sleeves back and felt the hot sun on his arms. He checked his gun.

  It was a long while of nothing but forest noise before they heard the rustle of steps. Black hoped Rusty was leading. Ernie had sent his rookies, no way of telling what they’d do in a gunfight or who they’d end up firing at. Black caught sight of him. Rusty was crouched low, more or less hidden from sight. He locked eyes with Black.

  Black held up four fingers, then signaled toward the dark. Rusty nodded.

  Black and Milk moved together. Rusty and Ernie’s men crept forward, guns aimed at the shadow. They repeated the procedure a couple of times till Rusty was near enough to cover.

  “Took your time,” Milk said.

  Rusty flipped him off but Black could tell he was worried. They were tight, the three of them.

  They moved back a couple of steps, keeping the trees between them and the shadow.

  “Any ideas?” Rusty said.

  Milk shrugged. “Crazies.”

  Ernie’s men fanned out.

  “Maybe they’ve gone,” Rusty said.

  “Why? What was it all about?” Milk said. “Somethin’ ain’t right. The fire. The way they were shootin’ and the cover they got they could’ve finished us off no trouble.”

  Black looked around, counting the men. Ten in total.

  “How many officers back at the station?”

  “A couple, and Trix,” Rusty said.

  “Hell –” Black said, breaking into a run.

  *

  Samson was praying when they came for him. Joe Ryan picked him up by his throat, clean off the ground, then dropped him onto the bed.

  “What’s goin’ on?” he said, frantic.

  Joe slapped him with an open hand, just hard enough for his ears to ring and his face to sting.

  “Black asked you about Summer,” Joe said.

  Samson backed to the corner of the bed, knees up and holding them.

  “You didn’t tell him everything,” Joe said.

  He could hear Trix yelling upstairs.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I pray for her, I ask God where she is now.”

  “There ain’t a God. It’s just me and you.”

  Tommy passed Joe the gun, then stepped outside, closed the door, and stood watch.

  Joe gripped Samson’s face and forced the barrel into his mouth. Samson coughed and gagged but Joe held strong.

  “You walked my daughter home. You hung round her at church, followed her like some fuckin’ puppy dog. Ava said she didn’t see you at that place till recent, till Summer started goin’ regular.”

  Samson tried to shake his head but Joe gripped tight. “I’ll kill you, right now I’ll end you.”

  Joe pulled the gun from Samson’s mouth and slapped him again.

  Samson cried helpless tears as he fell to the floor.

  “You start talkin’ or I’ll start shootin’.”

  “Please,” Samson sobbed.

  Joe raised the gun.

  Samson closed his eyes. “It weren’t her . . . it was him.”

  Joe kept the gun on him. “Who?”

  “Bobby,” Samson said, eyes still locked like his mind was someplace far.

  “What the fuck are you sayin’?”

  “Leviticus. It’s an abomination. I’ll burn. It was Bobby I watched. It was Bobby I dreamed of.”

  Joe lowered the gun and he wiped the sweat from his head, the understanding was heavy and weighed on his eyes.

  “You a queer?”

  “They said it’s a choice, at Pinegrove, that’s what they said. But it ain’t, ’cause who’d choose it? Momma said there’s a way back, I just had to find it. I tried to fix things but I can’t, Joe. I made it all worse. I thought if I saved a life it’d mean somethin’.”

  Joe turned his back and left Samson broke on the floor.

  “You don’t understand, Joe. I’m tryin’ to tell you,” Samson said between breaths. And then the door closed and Samson rose, and he hammered on it hard and dropped to his knees.

  “What did he say?” Tommy said as they climbed the stairs.

  Joe thought about Samson and Pastor Lumen, the shame and the pain.

  “Nothin’,” Joe said. “He didn’t do nothin’.”

  *

  Noah carried Amber the last hundred yards. She was weak and tired and hurt. Raine led. She was lost to them, silent, her eyes fixed on the forest floor and nothing else. Purv gave Amber all the water they had.

  Noah lay Amber down across the backseat easy ’cause the door was gone. He didn’t know if she was sick or in shock or just fucked up after what she’d been through. They’d got her though—she’d made it. Raine got in the back with her, lay Amber’s head on her lap and stroked her hair.

  Noah started the engine. For a moment it stuttered and he held his breath, then it caught and he gunned it, the wheels struggling for grip on the dirt. They didn’t have the gas to get her to Mayland so he headed back toward the square. Black would know what to do. He’d have to, ’cause Noah felt like he didn’t know nothing no more.

  *

  Black kept his foot to the floor, watching the needle climb as the sky darkened. He could see Rusty and the other cruisers in his rear-view, lights and sirens all the way. He passed the Kinley boy and the tourists who watched and took photographs like they was part of the show. Milk kept his gun in his hand, must’ve checked it was loaded at least a half dozen times. Black radioed Trix again and again but she didn’t answer.

  They drove down Hallow Road, overtook a couple of sedans, and switched the high beams on.

  As they were
turning into the square a Buick came from the Jackson side and nearly ran right into them. Black hit the brakes hard.

  “What the fuck –” Milk said.

  They followed behind as the Buick mounted the sidewalk and pulled right up at the bottom of the stone steps. Black climbed out and ran over, followed by Milk, both had guns drawn. The cameras were aimed at them, the reporters wide eyed.

  Black saw Noah get out and then the girl in the back jumped on him, nearly knocking him off his feet. She held him tight. She wore a long shirt and her feet were bare and her legs were cut up. They couldn’t see her face but they knew who she was.

  “Amber King . . .” Milk said.

  They were vaguely aware of a man pushing through the cluster of people, and then he called her name.

  “Daddy,” Amber said.

  And then she fell into him and they dropped to their knees and they were crying, and the flash of cameras lit the whole square.

  Black looked up and saw Joe Ryan at the top of the steps. Then he saw Raine get out of the car, and she looked up and met his eye. She walked up the stairs like she was in some kinda daze, her limbs loose and her head swaying.

  She leaned close and said something to her daddy, and he grabbed hold of her tight.

  Black looked at Noah and his heart dropped into his boots.

  Noah was real pale, and then Black saw his eyes roll as he fell to the street.

  45

  Summer

  There was a cross on the wall and a lock on the door but Samson left it open.

  I bit down on my fist. My teeth broke the skin and blood filled my mouth but the taste of blood never bothered me all that much.

  Samson had plans for me, plans colored pure with salvation ’cause that’s all he saw.

  My mind was a riverboat and it sailed the Red. I could see the girls side by side on the bank and staring up at a fallin’ star, and one of the girls reckoned it was a firework.

  I thought of Grace and the people of the town and what they were doin’ that night. When I closed my eyes I saw Bobby and Savannah in their house, in their separate rooms with their shared grief. And I saw that photo in the Maidenville Herald of them before they lost him.

  “I can’t let you go. I won’t,” he said, eyes hot.

  “You can’t keep me here.”

  “I have to. I saw it; there ain’t always a choice. I got a chance to save you and your child. I’ll keep you safe. That’s my way back, Summer. Deliver them out of the hand of the wicked. God will see me, he’ll see what I done before and what I’ll do now. Sometimes sayin’ sorry ain’t nearly enough.”

  “It ain’t for you to decide.”

  “I can’t stand idle. I won’t.”

  I sat awhile and tried to calm but I saw the effort and the care and I couldn’t stop my legs from shakin’. It was real and I was scared.

  “Are you the Bird?” I said, my voice holdin’ as my mind ran to the Briar girls.

  He stared at me, confused. “How could you think that?”

  “I . . . I just –”

  “I don’t have interest in girls like that. I’m not some monster. I want to save you, Summer. You and your child. Why can’t you see that?”

  He stood awhile, eyes down and closed like he was pained. And then he asked me to pray with him. He kneeled beside the bed and bowed his white head.

  I could hold back. I could leave myself and I could float and see Samson shepherding my lost soul toward the light, numb till I heard that first cry. But that cry would’ve been Bobby’s ’cause there weren’t no way back for him after.

  Or I could steal the part of my sister that makes her burn, that fire too wild to harness, and I could take what was mine.

  I felt it then, maybe I felt Raine and I felt my daddy. Maybe I felt the girl they saw and the girl I was and I really saw the difference between the two. It weren’t anger; it was something neater and cooler, that realization that I had it in me to act.

  I reached for the hot tea and I turned and threw it in Samson’s face, and I saw that divine contentment melt from it. His cheek, the skin blisterin’ devil red on that pure white.

  And then I ran.

  I ran from that room in that house and I ran across the dirt and into the street.

  There were too many stars that night, that’s what I thought. He’d made it too pretty for me.

  I saw the van straight off.

  That same van from earlier, watchin’, sittin’ idle with dipped lights, waitin’ on me ’cause the want was so strong. My choices, my decision; the ends were one and the same ’cause our only shared destiny is a physical death.

  I stopped still in the middle of the road.

  And then I turned and there was a truck. It was comin’ fast but I saw it slow, the writing on the hood: BOWDOIN CONSTRUCTION.

  That moment when it hit, I ain’t sure how to tell it.

  That divide that cut, that light and dark that people go on about.

  The street was hot but I was shiverin’.

  The moon was blue but I lay dyin’.

  I saw the van roll away into the dark and I wondered which girl he’d call on next. The Bird didn’t claim me but I was claimed.

  I heard Samson’s voice and he was cryin’ but not from the pain, just maybe from the loss.

  I heard Ray Bowdoin, and I heard the slappin’ and the slurrin’ and the threatenin’ ’cause he was lit and he couldn’t go down for it. And he told Samson he’d been in the attic and seen what was hid in the file cabinet.

  Maybe it went on quick or maybe it was hours. Maybe I felt my clothes come off and my ring come off but by then there weren’t nothin’ left anyway.

  It played like an opera and I was Violetta, resigned and broke, driftin’ through nightmares and daydreams till the end found me.

  She can’t be alone ’cause there’s no one to hold her hand.

  My sister, I thought. I’d miss my sister most.

  46

  Motherfuckin’ Badass Cowboy

  Samson Lumen walked outta the police station at dawn. He chose to leave the back way, head down and moving fast, fear hotter than it’d ever been.

  When word reached the pastor and the church people there were nods and handshakes and nothing more.

  Black arrested Joe and Tommy Ryan, and Austin Ray Chalmers, then let them free. Charges could be brought later.

  Black didn’t know what the next days would bring for Joe, but no way he could face them from behind bars. Black guessed Jimmy King was one of the shooters in the woods; he was a sniper in the army for a dozen years and could hit a nickel from a quarter mile. He also guessed Jimmy left Hell’s Gate via one of the slips and beat them back to the square. He knew Jimmy could’ve shot them dead but that weren’t ever the aim. Joe had waited long enough, it was always coming. Black was just glad no one was hurt, and that Amber King was still alive.

  If the circus was bad the day before, it grew outta control following the photos of Noah and Amber in front of the station.

  The image of them and the flag behind, and that sky so tough.

  The circus moved from the square to the wall on Hallow Road. They aimed cameras at Hell’s Gate and spoke of the grisly discovery inside. The crowds were reeling ’cause all that talk and all those rumors had turned to facts so hard people could barely face them.

  *

  Black stood in the hanging shade of the trees watching the team work. He was so beat he saw in tunnels like there were hands cupped around his eyes.

  The FBI arrived in heavy numbers ’cause there might’ve been more girls, girls from outta state. They left black sedans and tech vans parked at the edge of Hell’s Gate while they cleared a road. The area was sectioned off a mile in every direction. There was another team up at the main house, sifting it on their hands and knees.

  “You been in?” Milk said.

  Black nodded.

  “Must’ve taken him a long time, digging it out so deep.”

  Black nodded.
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  “Anything else?”

  “Not yet. It’s early. They’ll take their time, could be a graveyard under our feet for all we know.”

  “You thinkin’ . . . Summer?”

  “Yeah. I am.”

  “She left that note, Black.”

  “She did.”

  “But you still reckon –”

  “Yeah. What he said to Raine, he could’ve been lyin’ but . . .” he trailed to silence.

  Black and Milk walked out of the shade. Milk wore sunglasses, Black just squinted. It was a quarter mile to the Deamer house, one of them. There were three in total, wood lodges built up and out. They’d cleared a large part of Hell’s Gate, flattened the land and planted grass. There was an old slide, red with rust, and a couple chicken coops that stunk bad but didn’t have any birds in them.

  They heard the low rumble of a helicopter in the distance. They couldn’t get close ’cause the cloud weren’t far and covered some of the Deamer land, the dogleg that crossed the border.

  There was a narrow track that led to an access road that came out in a hidden spot off Highway 125. There was a couple of trucks dropped around the land. One had Virginia plates, another had a Georgia Tech bumper sticker. A lot to look into. The FBI had picked up Dolores Auvil from the West End Mission and she was talking. Whatever she had to say didn’t change much of anything now.

  “They ain’t hustlin’ like they’re searchin’ for live girls,” Milk said.

  Black sighed, nodded, and closed his eyes.

  They heard noise. The digging had started at dawn, after the dogs had been brought in.

  They wandered over slow ’cause neither really wanted to. They stopped short of the hole, fresh dirt piled beside and men all over. There was a red flag planted.

  “What you got?” Milk said.

  One of the agents turned, he was young, too young. “Girl.”

  “Summer Ryan?”

  The agent shook his head. “This one’s been dead a long time. Got a necklace, nameplate, Della.”

  Black nodded.

  Milk reached a hand out and grabbed his shoulder.

  “Let’s get outta here for a while,” Milk said.