by P. T. Hylton
An image passed through Sophie’s mind: a coroner’s photograph of the back of Heather’s head, a smashed in, ruined thing. Sophie wasn’t supposed to see it, but she had snuck a peek and spent the next ten years wishing she hadn’t.
“You did.” The words came out of Sophie’s mouth as little more than a whisper.
Taylor grunted. “I’m a patient man. I sat in that hellhole in Rook Mountain for eighteen years, including while the town was outside of time or whatever. I never hurt a single person while I was there, not until the time I hit the guard. But I did think about that girl and the way she cheered. I thought about it a lot.”
Sophie noticed her legs were shaking.
“I waited a long time, until the moment felt perfect, and then I took my shot at Sanctuary.” He spread his hands in front of him. “Worked out pretty well. So I don’t mind being patient again.”
“Go to hell.” She choked out the words.
Taylor looked her in the eye for the first time. “You’re gonna learn something tonight. You can’t touch me here. No matter how much you miss that sister of yours or how much you wish you could see me bleed. After tonight, you’ll understand.”
“I’m patient too.”
Taylor curled his lips in an attempt at a smile. It looked unnatural, and it only served to accentuate the misshapen nature of his face. “Something tells me that ain’t the case.”
She felt venom rising inside her, a poisonous anger she’d worked so hard and so long to suppress. It had seeped out anyway, souring so many things in her life: relationships, jobs, friendships. But standing there, she realized she didn’t have to hold it back anymore. It had a direction now. It could be useful to her, helpful even. It would keep her pointed toward her goal, the one and only goal that mattered. She’d spent the last few weeks worried about consequences. But consequences came after the action, and the action was the important part. There was an ache in her chest, a fury and a shame that made her wish she ignored Logan’s voice and knocked over the ladder.
“My sister died without understanding what was happening or why,” she said. “It won’t be like that for you. You’ll know who’s responsible. And you’ll know why.”
The quasi-smile melted off Taylor’s face. “Killing ain’t as easy as you think. It takes strength. Maybe tonight we’ll find out if you’re really as bloodthirsty as you pretend to be.”
He gave her a parting wink and headed toward the front door of Jake’s house. Sophie watched him go, her legs still shaking.
4. Sanctuary
Banishments were rare in Sanctuary, but not rare enough for Nate’s liking. It reminded him too much of the years he’d spent serving Zed.
Time was, back in Rook Mountain when he’d been one of Zed’s selectmen, he’d relished the opportunity to witness a Regulation Breaker get the justice that was coming to him.
These days, things were different. It was partly due to the bizarre, stomach-turning nature of the punishments in Sanctuary, sure, but holding a branding iron to a kid’s face was pretty stomach-turning, too. The bigger difference was the leaders of each community. Zed had feigned concern and regret at the punishments, but in truth he was indifferent. And, every once in a while, it almost seemed like he enjoyed it.
But Jake never enjoyed the banishments. He showed no emotion whatsoever, but Nate knew each banishment weighed on him.
It had only happened four times since Nate had arrived. He’d never forget the first one he’d witnessed. It was a woman named Suzanne who’d broken into Jake’s office and tried to steal the book. Dumb move. Jake caught her and did what needed to be done.
The residents of Sanctuary weren’t required to attend the banishment, but everyone did anyway, even the few who had kids. Some enjoyed it. Some came to say their goodbyes to the convicted. Some just felt it was their responsibility.
To Nate, the banishment represented an organizational nightmare. It fell to him to find a fairly empty place in the woods where the ceremony could take place. It couldn’t be in the Sanctuary itself and it couldn’t be so far away that the Larvae would be drawn to attack them. With the ever-changing landscape of the woods, this was no easy task, especially since it had to be done during daylight hours. The ceremony would take place at sundown, and there were a hundred little things to get ready before that.
The other difficult part was getting everyone to leave after the ceremony was over. People tended to linger, as if they didn’t want to depart from the final meeting they would have with their banished brother or sister. It was essential life get back to normal as quickly as possible, and it was up to Nate to politely but firmly send people away and get them back on their nightly routines. He generally gave them ten minutes or so to disperse naturally before he took action.
Today, he’d gotten lucky on a location. The forest had shifted last night and there was a nice big clearing only twenty yards from Jake’s house. It would be the perfect spot, and there was plenty of room for the thirty-four spectators who would gather tonight. It was as if the woods had known what was coming and done Nate’s job for him. Almost as if the forest was hungry for the banishment.
Nate stood for a moment, arms crossed, looking at the spot. It was almost anticlimactic the way the solution had been so easy this time. His eyes combed the area for any flaw that would make the spot unusable. He found none.
Nate decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. This was the spot for Vance’s banishment. He trotted the short distance back to Jake’s house.
Jake’s office door was closed as usual, so Nate knocked, rapping with his knuckles quickly and softly, in the distinctive cadence he always used to let Jake know it was him at the door.
“Come in,” a voice called through the heavy wood.
Nate entered and found Jake sitting at his desk, his eyes closed and his head resting against his peaked fingers. The book was sitting beside him, haphazardly pushed aside. Nate felt the familiar pang of concern. Jake had been using the book to prepare for the banishment, and that always took a lot out of him. He wouldn’t be himself for days after tonight. These ceremonies were hard on Jake. Too hard.
Nate knew himself well enough to realize he wasn’t a leader, but he did have one skill that was a rare commodity. He’d discovered it during the years he’d worked for Zed, and he’d honed the skill here working with Jake these last few years. Nate had the ability to sense what a leader needed and provide it before the leader even asked.
“Hey boss,” Nate said. “I’ve got the location set. It’s out in front of the house.”
Jake sighed. “So I’m gonna have to look at it for the next however long it is until the forest shifts again?”
Nate didn’t take it personally. Sometimes a leader needed to vent. He allowed himself a small smile. “You could always close the curtains.”
Jake chuckled and eased his eyes open. “So, tell me, should I be concerned? Was this thing with Vance an isolated incident?”
Nate paused. He hadn’t anticipated that question. “It’s been, what, six months since the last banishment? I don’t think we’re looking at an epidemic of violence or anything.”
Jake leaned back in his chair. “I don’t know. There’s something in the air lately. A sort of...discontent. Have you felt it?”
Nate nodded. Taking the pulse of the community was his bread and butter. Of course he’d felt it. But he hadn’t thought Jake was perceptive enough to sense it.
“I wouldn’t worry about it. It’s probably one of those cyclical things. Maybe the banishment will let out some of the tension.”
Jake looked up. The dark circles under his eyes stood out in the harsh light of the desk lamp. “Is that what we are now? We need our fix of violence every now and then or people start getting antsy?”
“Is that so bad?”
“Yes.”
Nate tapped his foot. “Listen, I know you don’t want to hear this, but people need a purpose. Maybe if you clued them in on what it is you’re actually trying
to accomplish here—”
“They have a purpose. They know they’re protecting the world from the forest. Saving the world isn’t a big enough goal?”
“Maybe it’s a little too big.” Nate took a breath and reminded himself to proceed with caution. Jake didn’t like discussing this, but Nate knew Jake needed him to bring it up from time to time, if only to play the devil’s advocate. “Look, boss, the people care about you. They’ll fight for you if you let them. If they realized what they’re doing is for you, they’d have something more tangible to hold on to.”
Jake grimaced. “Do you have any idea how it would go if I told them? Everyone would have an opinion on how we should proceed. You of all people should know that. You lead the scheduling meetings.”
Nate couldn’t argue there. It took forty-five minutes of discussion to get the group to agree to a single route adjustment on the trail-walking schedule. “I know committees aren’t always the most efficient way to run things—”
“Then we agree.” Jake’s tone said this topic of conversation was closed. He glanced at the book on the desk and a look of weariness passed over his face.
Nate knew Jake had hours of work left before tonight. He left without saying another word. He knew when the boss needed silence.
5. Sanctuary
Sophie joined the rest of them in the small clearing outside Jake’s house. She stood between Frasier and Logan. The little boy, Mason, stood in front of his mother. She had her arms around him, pressing his back against her. She leaned down and whispered something in his ear, but Sophie couldn’t hear what it was.
Frasier leaned over to Sophie. “If you start feeling dizzy or sick in the middle feel free to hold my hand. I won’t take it the wrong way.”
Sophie frowned. “Is there a chance I’m gonna get sick?”
Frasier nodded. “There’s always a chance. Especially the first time.”
Sophie shifted her feet and crossed her arms. What the hell kind of thing was this going to be? “And if I am sick, how exactly is holding your hand gonna help?”
Frasier winked. “I don’t know. But it’ll make me feel better. Holding a pretty lady’s hand always does.”
Sophie rolled her eyes, but she had to suppress a smile.
She looked around. Everyone was here. Even the kids. Besides Mason, there was a four-year-old boy and a baby girl. The only one missing was Jake himself.
“Is this ceremony long?” Sophie asked.
“Not long at all,” Frasier said.
“Feels plenty long, though,” Logan muttered.
Vance stood alone in the center of the clearing, his face pale and his eyes wide. Sophie had never spoken with the man, but she couldn’t help feeling the tiniest bit sorry for him.
On the other hand, he’d killed Baldwin. She hadn’t exactly liked Baldwin, but murder was murder. He deserved what was coming to him.
“If this whatever-it-is is so bad, why doesn’t he run?”
Frasier shook his head. “Wouldn’t matter. He’d still be banished. Better to do it here where he has a clear view of the sky.”
Sophie let that go. She knew he enjoyed being cryptic. It was an annoying habit, but over the time she’d spent with him, first in the Welcome Wagon and later walking the trails with Logan’s out team, she’d grown used to it.
She scanned the crowd again, and her eyes stopped on something, caught like cotton on a barb. It was Taylor. He was the only one who wasn’t facing Vance. He stared at Sophie, a slight smile on his face.
She wasn’t the type to let a creep leer at her without saying anything. She started to take a step forward, but, before she could, Jake walked through the crowd toward the clearing. He held a book in his hand. The book had a crudely drawn image on the cover: a globe. There was a crack running through it, just like the crack on the clock etched into the compass.
Jake didn’t look like the same man she’d walked through the woods with a few weeks ago. This man had circles under his eyes. His hair hung in wet ropes and his face was covered with sweat.
Sophie turned to Logan. “Is he okay?”
She nodded quickly. “It takes a lot out of him. He’ll recover in a few days.”
The response troubled Sophie, but she didn’t push for more information. Not now. She glanced over at Taylor. He was still staring at her.
Jake reached the center of the clearing. He leaned toward Vance and put a hand on the man’s shoulder. He spoke to him for a few moments and Vance seemed to relax a little.
Sophie felt a shift in the crowd with Jake’s arrival. Before, there had been tension, anticipation, and anger. Now that was gone. It felt calmer. As she looked around, all she saw was sympathy on the faces around her. She had some experience being in the courtroom when a killer was convicted—she supposed Taylor did as well. This felt completely different.
This felt like the man standing in front of them had already paid his debt. Like he was forgiven.
Jake gave Vance one more pat on the shoulder and then took three large steps back. He didn’t turn or address the crowd in any way. He just opened his book.
He held the book in one hand, and his other hand moved across the pages. His index finger moved in a fast scribble as if he were tracing a picture.
A hand grabbed Sophie’s. She looked over at Frasier, but he didn’t meet her gaze. His eyes were on the clearing.
She felt a slight rumble. At first she thought it was her imagination. Maybe her nerves were playing with her. But the feeling grew stronger until she was certain the ground was quaking beneath her feet.
“Stay still,” Frasier whispered. “It’ll be over soon.”
Sophie’s head whipped around as she tried to fight the panic rising within her. She looked behind her and saw Jake’s house was shaking. She turned back and saw the trees quiver. She squeezed Frasier’s hand.
The trees shook faster and faster, so quickly they seemed to be moving, trading places. The ground heaved and bucked as if it was trying to throw them.
The only place of stillness was the center of the clearing where Vance and Jake stood. Vance drew a deep breath and then looked down at his fingers. He stared at them with wide eyes, as if seeing them for the first time.
Then Sophie saw it too. His fingers were lengthening.
But it wasn’t just his fingers—it was all of him. He was stretching. His skin seemed to be drying out in front of her eyes. Hardening. Cracking. Changing into something else.
He let out a piercing scream. As he held the scream, it became lower, more throaty. Almost hollow. His open mouth lengthened slowly, stretching to an impossible tallness. A dark liquid filled the hole of his mouth, and a single drop spilled over and hung on his lip. The substance hardened into dark amber.
Sophie realized she was craning her neck now, looking up—how far?—twenty feet to his face. It hardly resembled a human face at all now. It was something else. Something older. Harder.
There was a pop-pop as his sneakers burst, first one and then the other. His clothes were tearing, falling away from him in shreds. His legs were pressing together as they grew, melding into something else, something familiar.
A trunk, Sophie realized.
His arms were stretching, dividing, splitting, growing, into hundreds of branches.
The tree-thing gave a final, very human shake, and then it straightened with an audible snap and was still.
Where Vance had been only moments before there now stood a tall, twisted tree.
Sophie had no words. Even taking a breath was challenging.
The crowd parted in front of Jake. He trudged silently back to his house.
“He’s a real orator,” Logan said under her breath.
The crowd stood silently for what felt like an hour, staring at the forest’s newest tree. Then, Nate stepped forward.
“Okay, that’s enough,” he said. “I appreciate you bearing witness. Time to get back to work.”
The crowd dissipated slowly, each member drifting off
in their own time.
Taylor approached her, and he said quietly, “Now you understand. You might want revenge, girl, but you can’t take it. Not in Sanctuary.” As he passed, he bumped his shoulder against hers.
A shudder ran through her. What was this place, this horrible place, she had come to? Who were these people? Who was Jake, what was Jake, to do that to someone?
Soon, she was the only one left. She felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked away from the tree, Vance, whatever, and saw Nate standing next to her.
“You want to talk about it?” he asked. “You have any questions?”
She shook her head.
“Okay. You will later. God knows I did.” His eyes drifted up to the tree, about where Vance’s face had been, and he quickly looked away. “Anyway, you should go.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s hard not to judge him. Jake, I mean. Doing something like that to someone.”
She grunted noncommittally.
“But you gotta understand, he does it for a purpose. He doesn’t have time to police this place, and we don’t have the manpower for a full-time sheriff.” He paused. “I read this book once, The Savages. It’s about these drug dealers. You heard of it?”
She shook her head.
“Well, there’s this one line that always stuck with me. If you let people think you’re weak, sooner or later you’re going to have to kill them. That struck me as true. We don’t have time for games. The work we’re doing here’s too important.”
“Yeah. Saving the world. I heard.”
“Okay. Well. You should get to work. Logan’s team will be leaving soon.”
Sophie’s eyes scanned the trees. Something inside, the same part of her mind that tingled when she used the compass, told her there was something else to see here. And then she saw it. Something carved into a tree directly across from her. Another message.
Use the Tool and the book and you can bring him home.
