Nate looked in the direction the Texan was staring. The pale specters had reappeared up near the caves high on the north side of the valley. Far more of them than the last time. They were larger, too. Coiling and writhing as before, they slowly oozed down the side of the mountain.
“Looks like fog or mist to me,” Jeremiah Blunt said.
Nate agreed. It was rare to see fog that high up, though. Usually fog clung to the valley floors. He put it from his mind. He had more important concerns. “Let’s go talk to Lexington right this minute.”
“Count me in,” Maklin said.
The Shaker elder was at the hub of a score of Shakers. They were arguing heatedly. Lexington acted relieved when Blunt called to him.
“Did you hear them? My own people, saying I’ve been wrong and we should pack our wagons and leave Second Eden.”
Nate said, “You can’t stay, not after this.”
Arthur Lexington sniffed. “It’s a setback, is all. We will rebuild, make our buildings stronger. The brothers and sisters we have lost will be mourned and we will get on with our lives.”
“Damn you,” Maklin said.
“Here, now. I won’t be addressed like that, Brother.”
His hand a blur, the Texan seized Lexington by the front of his shirt. Nate went to intervene, but Jeremiah Blunt put a hand on his arm and shook his head.
“I’m no brother of yours and never want to be. How many of your followers died? Twelve? Fifteen? And you’re so pigheaded, you won’t take the rest out before the same happens to them.”
Lexington smiled his benign smile. “Earthquakes are rare, Brother Maklin. You know that as well as I do. There might not be another for a thousand years.”
“Or it could happen again tomorrow.”
“Please, Brother.” Lexington pried at the Texan’s fingers. “I appreciate your concern. I truly do. But this display is unseemly. You must learn to trust in the Lord as I do.”
Nate gazed toward the buildings. Torches had been lit and lanterns brought and the dead were being laid out in rows with blankets placed over them.
Cursing lustily, Maklin shook Lexington and drew back a fist as if to punch him.
“I would rather you didn’t,” Jeremiah Blunt said.
Reluctantly, Maklin lowered his hand—to one of his silver-inlaid pistols. “I should shoot him. It would be best for everyone.”
“You wouldn’t!” Arthur Lexington bleated.
“He won’t,” Blunt said.
Maklin gave Lexington a push that sent him stumbling against Nate, who caught him to keep him from falling. “Stay away from me, mister. I’m leaving with the captain and until then, come anywhere near me and I’ll blow out your wick. So help me God.” He turned and stalked off.
“My word,” Lexington said. “What has gotten into the man? I can understand a fit of pique, but honestly now. He can’t blame me for an act of nature.”
Nate went after the Texan. He found him standing much too close to a hot spring. “Are you all right?”
“I haven’t been all right since Na-lin died. I may never be all right again.” Maklin tiredly rubbed his eyes and then pointed at the mountain to the north. “Have you noticed? It’s a lot thicker now.”
The fog or mist or whatever it was had spread. Many of the writhing tendrils had merged, coalescing into a large bank that was slowly creeping lower. For some reason it made Nate’s skin crawl.
“In an hour or so it will reach here,” Maklin observed.
“By then we’ll be gone.” Unnoticed, Jeremiah Blunt had come up behind them. Big hands on his hips, he stared somberly back at the laying out of the deceased. “There’s no talking sense into that man. I thought maybe I could, being a Christian. I quoted Scripture. I reminded him we are our brother’s keeper. I mentioned that God sends His rain on the just and the unjust. It did no good. He refuses to leave his Second Eden.”
Maklin cussed and gestured at the boiling pool. “I should toss him in. No one will know. With him and Sister Amelia gone, the rest should be easy to convince.”
“Two wrongs don’t make a right.”
Nate was watching the spectral bank. It enveloped everything in its path. He wondered why it was so pale.
“King? Did you hear me?”
Nate faced the captain. “Sorry. I wasn’t listening.”
“I’ll be ready to leave within the hour. Are you coming with us? Or do you plan to stick around?”
Before Nate could answer, another tremor shook the Valley of Skulls. It wasn’t as severe as the last, only a mild shaking that nonetheless set Nate’s pulse to racing.
“Well, that does it,” Jeremiah Blunt said, and made for the buildings. “Mr. Maklin, you’re with me.”
Nate listened to the bubbling of the hot spring. The rotten-egg smell was stronger. He held his hand over the lower half of his face as he trailed after them. A blanket was being draped over the body of Sister Amelia. Other Shakers were clustered in small groups and appeared to be arguing. The freighters were over by the corral, waiting for their boss.
Nate was suddenly homesick. He was filled with a great yearning to be with Winona, Evelyn, and Zach. If he slipped away now, under the cover of night, he could elude the Pawnees and be in King Valley in eight to ten days. His mind made up, he bent his steps toward the bay.
“Brother King! A word with you if you please.”
Nate halted. The last person he wanted to talk to was Lexington. “Make it quick. I’m lighting a shuck.”
“Are you indeed? That’s a pity. I had a favor to ask.” Lexington wagged the lantern he was holding toward the row of bodies. “We need to bury the departed as soon as practical.”
“What’s stopping you?”
Lexington leaned so close their shoulders brushed. “Have you ever heard the expression out of sight, out of mind? I prefer to bury them down the valley a ways. Since you were down there just the other day with Brother Maklin, I thought perhaps you would escort some of my people to a suitable spot.”
Nate was puzzled. “You and the others must know this valley better than I do.”
“To the contrary. We have been so busy organizing and building that there has been precious little time for exploring. I was to the end of the valley once, but that was months ago and I don’t remember a blessed detail.” Lexington lightly took hold of Nate’s sleeve. “Please. It would only take an hour or two of your time and we would be ever so grateful.”
Nate hesitated.
“I would ask Brother Maklin, but you’ve seen how he is when he’s around me. I very much doubt he would help.”
Nate heard himself say, “All right. Throw the bodies over horses and tie them so they won’t fall off.”
Lexington reacted as if he had been prodded with a sharp stick. “You can’t be serious. That’s no way to treat the departed. We’ll load them in wagons. It won’t take long, I assure you.”
While the freighters were hitching their oxen, the Shakers hitched their mules. One by one the bodies were reverently carried to Conestogas and carefully placed inside. Nate figured one or two wagons was enough, but Lexington insisted on only putting three bodies in each. “After all, we don’t want to cram them in like stacks of firewood, now, do we?” In all, it took five wagons. Lanterns were hung from each to help light the way.
Nate no sooner took the lead and bellowed for the drivers to head out than a young Shaker with curly corn- hued hair and white teeth came up alongside him, riding a sorrel.
“I’m to go with you, Brother King. I’m Brother Calvin. I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Nate grunted.
“Brother Lexington wants me to sing over the bodies,” Brother Calvin explained.
“Won’t reading from the Bible do?” Nate wanted to get it done and get out of there.
“Oh, we’ll do both. We must honor our brothers and sisters by showing the respect they deserve. After Brother Benedict reads, I’m to raise my voice to heaven, as Brother Lexington put it. I have a fine singing voice if I do say so myself. I should think four or five songs would be appropriate. Have you any suggestions?”
“It’s not smart to stay there too long.”
