“Yeah?” he asked, leaning forward so he could hear over the wind.
“How is he tracking you? Do you know?” Morris asked.
“It’s,” Davey looked up to his mother before answering, as if he was embarrassed, “my blood, I guess.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Crooked Tree
WITH HIS HEAD SWIVELING from side to side, looking out each window, Morris tempered his speed down the dirt road. The ruts pulled at the wheel each time he veered off-course. Concentrating mostly on the woods, he missed the break in the center-hump where he should have turned into the driveway, and the SUV bounced and jerked as he made the turn.
Once on the driveway, the surface evened out and soon they pulled into the wide open yard which surrounded the homely trailer.
Morris’s cousins had parked several cars with the trunks together and headlights pointed out in a rough circle. Morris took the one spot left by pulling past and then backing in to the space. As he put the truck in park, Morris spun to address his passengers: “Get out, stay low, and make your way to the center of the circle.”
“Shouldn’t we go inside?” asked Melanie.
“Too hard to defend. Get going,” he said. “Stay low.”
Davey pushed open his door and dropped to the ground. Melanie and Susan followed and imitated his hunched shuffle. In the center of the circle, surrounded by the rear-ends of the vehicles, the family joined three of Morris’s cousins who rapidly prepared firearms. Overhead, a light canvas tent flapped in the light breeze.
Before getting out, Morris leaned over and pushed open the front passenger door. He left the vehicle with all four doors open—they interleaved with the door of the vehicle next to the SUV, forming a shield for the center of the circle. When he arrived at the center, Melanie was introducing herself to his three relatives—Roland, Merritt, and Chester.
“Thank you, Roland,” she said.
“How we looking?” Morris asked.
“You tell us,” said Merritt. “What are we looking at?”
“Big guy,” said Morris. “Maybe ten feet or more. Naked. Heals fast. Very determined.”
“And he’s after the boy?”
“Yeah.”
“Weapons?” asked Roland.
“Anything he can throw,” said Morris. “Got me here with a rock from twenty-five yards,” he pointed at his left temple where the blood had crusted over the furrow. “Strong, too. You don’t want to be close.”
“Anything you know stops it?” the fourth relative, Chester, joined the conversation.
“Bullets slow him down,” said Morris. “Too bad your old man’s not still around, he would know.”
Chester approached Melanie who had stood to the side of the conversation, hugging a child tight to each of her sides. “Ma’am, you’re going to want to come over here, behind my car,” he said, pointing.
Melanie shuffled her kids in the recommended direction.
“It’s my Deputy Sheriff’s car. It’s reinforced in several spots,” he explained.
“Well what good is that going to do,” she pointed to the tent overhead. “What is it? Fabric?”
“It’s not to stop anything except vision. It’s just so he can’t see us from above.”
“Oh,” Melanie said. She settled her children and herself down on the ground behind the unmarked vehicle. Morris’s cousins had backed the car right up to a propped-up snowplow to create even more of a barrier. The family pulled together tight in the concavity of the metal and watched the men prepare.
Low conversation passed between the cousins and then Chester came over to crouch in front of Davey. “Davey?” he asked.
Davey nodded.
“You’re connected to this thing, right?”
“That’s absurd,” said Melanie. “None of this is his fault.”
“I’m not blaming him,” Chester said. He turned back to the boy. “Morris says you’ve lost connection in the past few hours, is that right?” he asked slowly.
“Right.” Davey nodded rapidly at the big man kneeling at his feet.
“We need you to get that back,” said Chester. “We need you to focus very hard…”
Melanie cut him off—“Why do you think he has any ability to make a connection with that monster?”
“And we need you to keep quiet for a minute,” Chester said to Melanie. “You don’t have to understand it, but you do need to accept it.”
“We’re set, Chester, heading out,” Morris called from across the circle. Morris, Roland, and Merritt found their way out between the spokes of cars. Each held a shotgun and had several other guns and packs of ammunition strapped to their bodies.
Melanie’s eyes darted around. Her daughter, Susan, was pressed against her side. She had her arms pulled close and her hands bunched in her lap, rubbing her thumbs together.
“So you’re gonna work on it, right?” Chester asked Davey.
“I’ll try,” said Davey. He lowered his head and closed his eyes. Melanie glanced down at his concentration and was reminded of the long trip in Ken’s SUV. She felt her irritation fade, replaced by a sense of impotence.
Chester pushed up from his kneeling position and scanned slowly between the cars. He took a spot near the center of the circle, but closer to the side with Melanie and her kids, as he rotated to keep watch on all sides.
“So what are Morris and your cousins doing?” asked Melanie.
“They’re patrolling,” said Chester. “And Merritt is my brother. The other two are my cousins.”
Melanie nodded.
“I still think we should be running or calling the police,” she said.
“I am an officer, and trust me, this is one of the few situations I wouldn’t rely on them. We’d spend the next few hours just trying to convince anyone there was a threat.”
“But you believe it,” she said. “You seem like you believe it even more than I do, and I’ve seen it.”
“I’ve seen the evidence,” said Chester. “One of the cases was up where I work. A guy on the west side of Sebago. At first I thought it was just an organized crime thing, but then I started to see the irregularities.” As he talked, Chester kept his body moving. He dipped slightly to see through windows and checked behind himself as he slowly spun. “Plus, my dad warned us all a while ago.”
“Is that Morris’s uncle? The one who used to tell all the stories?” asked Melanie.
“No.” Chester paused his surveillance and smiled at Melanie. “No, the story-teller was my uncle, too. Dad didn’t have stories, just a lot of advice.”
Chester stood up straight and turned his head at the sound of a distant gunshot.
“Did they…” Melanie began, but Chester cut her off with a raised hand.
After a few moments, he explained—“A sighting maybe. Could also be they’re trying to flush him out. Hunting apex predators is tricky; we can only guess what’s going on out there. Like hearing one half of a conversation.”
“Mr. Morris,” said Davey. His eyes were still closed but he turned his head to face Chester before speaking again—“Mr. Morris fired because the monster was stalking Roland.” Davey opened his mouth again and then shut it without speaking further.
“Where are they, Davey?” asked Chester. He kept his eyes glued on where the headlights touched the edge of the forest.
“Near the house rock,” said Davey.
Chester nodded but took his eyes away from his scan for a second to assess the boy’s face. With her mouth pressed into a thin white line, Melanie’s brow betrayed her skepticism.
“He sees it again,” said Davey, just above a whisper.
Another shot rang out in the night.
“I don’t understand,” said Melanie. “You couldn’t see this thing all the way down here, and now you can?”