He stashed his phone in his pocket and dug out his ID. The last thing he wanted now was for some hyped-up local cop with a heavy trigger finger taking a shot at him. He took one last look at the charnel house of the hut then opened the door and stepped out into the night with his hands raised, just as the headlights bounced to a halt behind his own parked car.
Two figures in heavy parkas emerged from the car, guns drawn and pointing right at him. “FBI,” he called out, holding his badge high above his head. My partner called this in — Agent Franklin. I’m Agent Shepherd. I got a body back here and tracks leading into the woods. Did you intercept the car?”
“We didn’t see no car,” a voice called back.
“Which way did you come?”
“From Cherokee.”
“What’s in the other direction?”
“Tennessee,” the same voice replied. “Gatlinburg’s the first big place you come to.”
“Do they know what’s happened here?”
“Not that I know of, it’s across the state line.”
Different state, not their responsibility — goddamn local cops, no wonder Franklin had no time for them. “Call it in,” Shepherd shouted, moving down the wooden stairs. “Give them the description and tell them to arrest anyone driving a white or yellow station wagon. And tell them to approach with caution. There are at least two suspects and they’re fleeing a murder scene.”
One of the cops ducked back inside the car and got on the radio. The other started walking toward him, gun still out and still pointing in his general direction.
“Walk through the fresh snow,” Shepherd said, pointing at a pristine patch between him and the cop, “that way we’ll know we’re not trampling over any evidence.” The cop complied, veering off from his intended route and trudging through the snow toward him. “And put your damn gun away.”
Shepherd looked away and through the trees to where he imagined the road continued. It was too dark to see much but as he scanned the wall of trees he caught a flash of light, distant and soft, moving along the road toward the border.
76
Carrie eased her speed down even more as the tires continued to slip. They were now crawling along at barely more than ten miles an hour, good for keeping on the road, not so great for getting away. The station wagon was old and heavy and only had two-wheel drive. This was taking too long. The man she had tracked through the trees with her nightscope must have found the body by now and called the cops or be driving back to town to tell them what he’d found.
It would be all over the news by morning, a warning to all of the consequences of sin and blasphemy. The cops would probably play down the nature of the death, keep the bloody details out of the public eye, but it wouldn’t do any good, she had taken some pictures of her own that could be uploaded on to the Internet to make sure it was seen by everyone. Archangel would be pleased with them — which meant they were one step closer to being together, one step closer to driving a car like this of their own, maybe with their own baby seat in the back. She felt both happy and sad at the thought of it. They would be married for sure, but the judgment was coming too soon for them to be able to have a child of their own.
Unless.
Maybe the work they were doing now, these blood sacrifices they were making would be enough to stop it from happening. Maybe God would stay his hand and spare the judgment because he would see there were still those like her and Eli prepared to serve him and honor His name.
“Hey, baby, you want to make the call? Archangel’s gonna be real happy with us.”
Eli remained silent.
“It’s okay, honey,” she said, reading his mood. “I know how you said th’other night, how you wished you didn’t like killing so much, but it’s the Lord’s work you’re doing here, don’t you forget that — and there ain’t never no sin in that.”
Eli took a breath and blew it out, fogging the inside of the windshield. “Dog ain’t got no immortal soul,” he said in the small guarded voice she didn’t like, “but a man do. And so does a little girl and her mom.”
She reached out and placed her hand on his cheek, risking the slippery road and feeling the jaw muscle working beneath his skin. “But if they were all good and righteous people, then their souls will be up in heaven right now. And if not, well, then you done rid the earth of some sinners and you shouldn’t be ashamed of either thing. Why, I reckon you should be proud.”
He turned to her and she risked looking away from the road for just a second. “You always know the right words to say,” he said, digging a phone from his pocket, “you always shine a light through my darkness in a way that no one else ever can.”
The screen lit up his face as he dialed the number and switched the phone to speakerphone. Carrie leaned forward and turned the heater down so she could hear better, her eyes never leaving the road. Ahead of them she could see the glow of headlights sweeping across the night, picking out the trees and getting brighter as a car came toward them. It burst around the curve, full beams blazing, going far too fast for the road conditions.
“Yes?” Cooper’s voice rose out of the phone.
“The professor is dead,” Eli said.
“Where are you now?”
“Driving,” Eli looked up into the glare of the oncoming lights.
“Anyone see you?”
“I don’t think so.”
The headlights were almost upon them now, so bright it looked like the car was in their lane. Carrie eased farther over, slowing almost to a stop as a red pickup flew past them, the snow chains on the tires throwing grit and ice over the side of their car. Carrie blinked away her blindness and saw a sign right in front of them saying WELCOME TO TENNESSEE with two arrows beneath it pointing back to Cherokee and on to Gatlinburg.
“There was someone else there but they didn’t see us,” Carrie said, picking up speed again now that she could see the way ahead. “I left him to find the body. Maybe he saw our car.”
“Will that be a problem?”
There was a left turn ahead and another sign for Clingman’s Dome Road.
“No,” she said, turning onto the road, carefully following the tire tracks they’d made earlier, fighting the car up the gentle incline and around a shallow bend.
“Did you take pictures?”
“Yeah, we got pictures.” Ahead of them, their headlights picked up the back of the black Ford Escape they’d driven all the way from Charleston.
“Good,” Cooper said. “Call me again when you’re clear. I have news. God has smiled on our mission once more.” Carrie eased the station wagon to a halt then cut the engine. “Check your e-mails. I have sent you instructions of where you should go next. I just found out where Dr. Kinderman is.”
77
Neither Athanasius nor Father Thomas had seen Father Malachi since he had opposed their plans to help the infected of Ruin. Since then Malachi had removed himself and the rest of his guild entirely behind locked doors. There were now two distinct societies within the mountain, those fighting the blight and caring for those who had it, and the black cloaks in the library.
They knew they were still there only because the supplies that were delivered weekly to the air lock were always collected, and because whenever one of the black cloaks became infected they were left outside the door, tied to a board to stop them from tearing themselves to pieces, their howls serving as an alarm to bring someone running. Athanasius found this inhuman and un-Christian and it made him furious whenever he thought of it. But now was not the time to pick that particular fight. They were here because they needed Malachi’s help.