Kin

“Nope,” she said and withdrew a liter of Coke from the fridge. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Only slightly relieved, he said, “Okay.”

“Because,” she continued, unscrewing the cap from the bottle, “You’re going to drive me to Elkwood.”

She slammed the bottle down on the table, and didn’t offer him a glass.

“Drink fast,” she said.

-33-

Thunder grumbled over the city. Kara parked the car and looked out at the drab gray building in which she worked. The clock on the dashboard told her she was already an hour and fifteen minutes late, but she couldn’t care less. Her mind raced with thoughts about the boy who’d showed up at their door. He’d wanted to see Claire, and it was clear by her sister’s reaction that the visit had been a welcome one, eliciting more emotion from her than Kara had seen in months. So, though she’d been against the idea, maybe it would work out to be a positive thing in the end.

You don’t really buy that, do you?

She couldn’t help but grin at her own pessimism, but it was true. She didn’t buy it. The kid’s connection to the events that had chewed Claire up and spit her out would only justify her dwelling on them for another while, and that was counter-productive to their cause.

Cause. What cause? she asked herself. Naturally she wanted Claire to recover, and soon. But how much of that was for Claire’s benefit, and not her own? How much of it was simply a selfish desire to be as free of her sister and all her emotional baggage as Claire wanted to be of her? Kara felt cruel even thinking it, but no reassuring mental voice hurried to debate the theory.

Kara had a life. Granted, not much of one, and even Claire couldn’t be blamed for the worst of its deficiencies, but the idea of being her sister’s keeper forever made her chest tighten. It couldn’t happen. It wasn’t fair to either of them. And what good was she really doing anyway? Trying to curb her sister’s self-destructive impulses of late seemed to be having the opposite effect. Claire appeared to be waiting for the opportunity, the right moment before she took that final step over the precipice into the abyss where the demons she had escaped would welcome her back and rend her asunder.

Kara had just lit a cigarette. Now she froze, smoke streaming out around the filter, and thought of the boy. More specifically, she thought of his truck.

She’s waiting for an opportunity.

Their mother was at the doctor’s office.

Kara was here.

You just gave her one.

“Damn it.” As if by some miracle he might sense it, Kara cast a brief apologetic glance up at her boss’s window on the fifth floor, then started the engine and reversed out of the parking lot fast enough to force the driver of an oncoming car to jam on his brakes and slam on the horn.

Tires screeching, she headed home.

* * *

She estimated she’d been gone from the house less than forty minutes, but it could have been a day for all the difference it made.

After only a few minutes, she quit searching the house. The silence that had greeted her should have been enough to confirm what she already suspected. The boy’s truck was gone. So was the boy, and with him, Claire.

“Shit,” Kara growled, struggling to keep the panic out of her voice because to hear it only worsened the fear that was trying to paralyze her. Calm down, she commanded herself. They could be gone anywhere.

But they weren’t, and she knew it.

Quickly, she made her way into the kitchen, and picked up the phone. She had already dialed 911 when she spotted the single piece of notepaper on the kitchen table. She did not hang up, but reached out and snatched up the page, reading as the call went through.

Dear Kara, it said. You know where I’m going. What you don’t know, and probably wouldn’t understand even if I broke it down for you, is why I’m going there. Pete, in his simple way, does. Together we’re going to do this because we have to. There’s no other way. I’m guessing you’re gonna call the police on us. That would be you all over. But do me a favor. Give it a few hours. Give us a head start. If you don’t, I promise you we’ll find a way around it. We’re young, not stupid. So do this for me. You’ve been trying to help, and I appreciate it even if you’re a pain in the ass 90% of the time. Now’s your chance to really do something for me. You never know. This might have a happy ending. Love, Claire.

Kara shook her head and crumpled up the note. The breath had evaporated from her lungs. She stared in shock around the kitchen.

I did this, she thought. This is my fault.

Already she saw what it would do to her mother.

She pictured them standing over Claire’s grave, the sky cold and gray, rain speckling the polished oak of the coffin.

“911. What is your emergency?” said a voice in her ear.

She’s going to die down there, and I let it happen.

“Hello?” said the dispatcher.

“I’m sorry,” Kara said into the phone and ran a trembling hand through her hair. “I need the police.”

* * *

Joshua was tired, and cold. Night was coming and the soft breeze had gathered strength, become a sharp chill wind that scoured the peak of the mountain, blowing red dust in his face.

He kept moving to keep the worst of the cold at bay, his eyes continuously scanning the flat plains that stretched out around the mountain. It was getting harder to see anything out there, and he didn’t think whoever was coming would be dumb enough to have their lights on, so it seemed silly that he was up here at all. The thought took hold until it began to let suspicion creep in. What if Papa had posted him as lookout just to keep him out of the way? What if he was slowly beginning to wonder if all his children might be turning against him like Luke and Susanna had? He’d been a baby when his sister had been killed so didn’t remember a whole lot about it, but from what Aaron told him, she hadn’t gone quietly and so the end, for her, had been messy. Joshua wished he’d been there though because he couldn’t imagine it being any different from the other people they’d killed and yet when Aaron spoke of murdering their sister, the gleam that entered his eyes told him it had been very special indeed. Perhaps she had been so corrupted she had changed, revealed her true hellish form before he’d stilled her heart. He’d never know because his brother only spoke about it when the mood came upon him, and never answered questions about it. But it didn’t matter. She’d been poisoned and Papa had ordered her death. Luke had been poisoned too, and Joshua couldn’t imagine what it must have felt like to spend so much time wrapped up in Momma’s dead body. He shuddered at the thought of it, but knew if offered a choice between what Papa had done to Luke and what Aaron had done to Susanna, the former would be the obvious choice. Luke had been granted mercy, the chance at rebirth only because he’d been Momma’s favorite. They all knew that. But Joshua was nobody’s favorite and so he didn’t much like the idea that he’d only been given the job of lookout because his usefulness to the clan was in question.

He stamped his feet and wondered if it would be wise to desert his post, just for a little while, long enough to find Papa and swear an oath that he hadn’t been poisoned, that he would serve God until He chose to pluck him from the earth and make him an angel.

He shook his head and frowned, deeply troubled by the direction his thoughts had taken. He was sure he hadn’t given Papa cause to doubt his devotion, but now the worry nagged at him.

Then a sound stopped his pacing and his thoughts at the same time.

He was facing out over the west side of the mountain, where a thin ribbon of dirt road threaded through