that he and Alice had spotted when they got off the ferry yesterday. The giant deer head on the float looked menacing in the darkness, its eyes burning with a weird light as it stared back at him.
The front of the gas station looked peaceful, a deserted, well-lit station in the middle of nowhere with three pumps and an upright soft-drink machine. A large sign read STUCKY’S. A smaller sign announced, PREMIUM CABINS FOR RENT. A NON REFUNDABLE RESERVATION DEPOSIT REQUIRED. Wake didn’t care about those two signs, what grabbed his attention was a countdown banner over the gas pumps: DEERFEST IN 7 DAYS! The number was a separate, changeable Velcro patch.
Wake rubbed his forehead. Deerfest had been two weeks away when he and Alice had arrived. If the day count on the banner was correct, Wake had lost a whole week between the night they got to Bright Falls and now. If the banner was correct, it meant that Alice had been missing for a week.
Wake hesitantly touched the banner. It was real. He jumped, as a radio close to the front door suddenly squawked to life, spitting static. A sign on the door said CLOSED, but the lights were on in the shop, the garage doors wide open.
Wake gently turned the radio dial, wanting to hear a human voice,
“This is Pat Maine, your host at KBF-FM, The Night Owl. Well, I was just outside for a breath of fresh air, and what a night!”
Wake stayed in front of the radio, listening.
“Hey, Pat, it’s Maurice Horton.”
“Hello, Maurice. What’re you up to?”
“Well, I was just taking my dog, Toby on a walk—”
“Isn’t it beautiful out there tonight?”
“S-sure. But Pat, the reason I called is that Toby heard something rustlin’ in the undergrowth and took off after it, and I couldn’t find him.”
“Probably a rabbit.”
“Okay. Sure, Toby loves rabbits. Anyway, I figured that, you know, if anyone runs into Toby, they could grab him? My number’s on his collar.”
“And Toby’s a friendly dog?”
“Oh, Toby loves people. Usually he comes back, but we were pretty far from home and it sounds like he went pretty wild there.”
“Well, Maurice, the word’s out there now. Hope Toby comes home soon. You have a good night—”
Wake walked into the open garage. The place was half-lit, illuminated only by the glow of a TV. A real mess, too. A puddle of oil gleamed on the concrete floor, and someone had knocked over a workbench, scattering tools and repair manuals. A car in one of the garage bays had a smashed windshield. Someone had either trashed the place, or there had been some kind of fight.
Wake started to walk into the office, stopped in front of the TV. The picture kept flipping, but there was something about it that drew his attention. He smacked the side of the TV and the picture stabilized.
On the screen, a man in a wood-paneled room hunched over a desk. The shot was from the rear, the collar of the man’s coat was turned up. Wake rubbed his head. He slowly reached out and turned up the sound.
Wake stared at the TV and knew there was nothing he could do, no amount of pounding on it that would bring the show back. He took a last look around the garage and stepped into the office. No sign of a struggle in there. Nothing out of place. A bright Nordic Walking poster was tacked to the wall with the slogan: “Incontestably proven health benefits.”
A framed newspaper article showed a picture of Stucky smiling in front of the gas station. He had been proclaimed “Bright Falls Businessman of the Year” for expanding his gas station to include cabin rentals and bringing in tourist trade. Wake remembered the last time he had seen Stucky, seen the Taken he had become, writhing in the flashlight as Wake pumped bullets into him.
The thought made him sick.
Wake turned away from the picture. Through the window, he could see the sun just beginning to come up, a red glow edging over the horizon.
Wake picked up a soda bottle on the counter. The bottle wasn’t cold but there was still fizz in it. Beside the bottle was another manuscript page.
The page shook in his hand as Wake picked it up. He shoved it into his pocket. He couldn’t bear to read it now. Time enough for that later. He sat down, more exhausted than he could remember ever being. He picked up the phone, the receiver almost too heavy to lift, and dialed 911.
Rose knew that Rusty was in love with her, and she liked him too. She liked him a lot. He treated her well, made her smile, made her feel good. But Rusty wasn’t the prince of her dreams, and that tended to underline the unbearable truth: she was no closer to that Hollywood magic than he was.
CHAPTER 7
“YOU TOOK QUITE a blow to the head, Mr. Wake,” said Dr. Nelson, his fingers lightly bandaging Wake’s forehead. “Deputy Thornton found your car a couple hours ago at the bottom of a ravine. You’re lucky to be alive.”
“Yeah, I feel really lucky, doc,” said Wake, blinking in the golden sunlight pouring through the windows of the conference room in the sheriff’s station. Called in from trout fishing and still in his fishing vest, lures poked through the brim of his hat, the old country doc had been examining Wake for the last twenty minutes, taking his temperature, checking his reflexes, his pupils, his balance.
“Are you sure you haven’t had any hallucinations or double-vision?” said the doctor, snipping off loose threads of the bandage.
Wake remembered the Taken dissolving in the beam from his flashlight like exploding dandelions. “No.”
“I heard you were going on about an island in Cauldron Lake—”
“I said
“I’d still like you to go to Templeton Hospital to get an MRI,” said the doctor, putting away his instruments. “It’s only an hour drive, and—”
“I’m fine,” said Wake. “I’m lucky, remember?”
“You’re a lousy patient, Mr. Wake.” The doctor squeezed his shoulder, stood up. “I’m the same way.” He snapped his bag shut, started for the door. “I’ll tell Sarah that you’re ready to talk.”
“Sarah?”
“Sheriff Breaker,” said the doctor. “We’re pretty informal around here.”
Wake watched the doctor close the door behind him. The conference room was a plain, thinly carpeted room with a long, rectangular table and a dozen mismatched chairs arranged around it. An American flag stood in one corner, while an elk head stared blankly at Wake from the far wall. The only other decorations in the room
