“What about the men who were injured?” Amber asked.
Jan’s eyes lit up at the question.
“What an astute thing to ask, young lady.”
Amber looked down at her feet.
“They say that everyone who was injured that night suffered a horrible fate. Men who were hale and hearty, men who were young and vigorous, and men who had seen better days—none of them fared well if they were injured in the fight. One of my ancestors, Paulie, took ill and they say that he chased after his wife. Gert was a stout woman. Even when he climbed on top of her, she dragged herself out into the yard and brought him along for the ride. As soon as they were outside, Paulie let go and tried to hide under the porch. Gert wasn’t having any of it. She pulled him out by his ankles and the story goes widdershins after that. Cousin Hannie says that Paulie just boiled away and his smoke disappeared in the wind. Gert claims that he got under the porch, found his way through the basement and must have fled. Whatever happened to him, nobody ever saw him again.”
“That happened to all the men?” Amber asked.
Jan nodded.
“Personally, I believe that the men who got away found a place to hide in the woods, and I wound’t be surprised if that included old Samuel.”
“I thought you said he was… sorry, that he died in the fight,” Alan said.
“Sometimes I think that. Other times I don’t. It’s one of those tales that doesn’t make sense regardless of what you think. People always want one answer. Sometimes there are a bunch. Those poor children—what happened to them wasn’t right. I like to think that we shouldn’t be judged based on the sins of our fathers. Those boys were judged and sentenced to the retribution that the people wanted to deliver to Samuel. What he had taken from them, they took from the boys.”
“Animals?” Amber asked.
Jan shook her head. “Maybe if they had still owned any, they would have. What they took from the boys was flesh. Once or twice a year, until the boys found a way to get far away from this place, they would be abducted. They say that the oldest boy had a limp because someone had taken half his toes. The youngest wasn’t able to eat an apple without cradling it with both hands. He didn’t have enough fingers left to grip it.”
Alan turned away, thinking about his own son.
“I know,” Jan said. “Horrible story all around. But that’s why you came, right? You wanted to hear a horrible story about a monster of a man.”
Amber and Alan were both silent for a moment.
“Well? If you didn’t come for that, then why did you come?”
# # #
Amber turned to stare at him—she put the burden of answering the question right on his shoulders.
Alan said, “Honestly, we’re just trying to find out what happened. My family has also had a run-in with the Prescotts. I believe that when they left here, they came and settled down in the Kingston Lakes area. At least some of them did. Down there, some people have described them as sorcerers.”
Jan nodded through his whole explanation.
“I heard about that trouble. I also heard that it ended.”
“Some things stop, but that doesn’t mean they’ve ended,” Alan said.
“Astute,” Jan said.
She stood up.
“Come out back with me, would you?”
Alan and Amber got up and watched Jan move towards the back door. For a moment, Alan knew that they were both thinking the same thing—maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to decline the invitation. He had the feeling that they might not like whatever Jan wanted to show them. Jan held open the door and Alan thought it would be rude to turn her down. He went first, zipping up his coat as he stepped outside. Jan paused to put her boots on and then she guided them down the steps towards the greenhouse.
It was just as she described it—just a shelter for her lawnmower and some yard tools.
He gestured towards the greenhouse door.
“In here?”
“No,” she said. “Around back.”
Her yard was dry compared to the surrounding area. It looked like the sun had melted all the snow a while before and there was even some green grass boldly poking up along the glass wall of the greenhouse. Alan saw the twisted apple tree, growing at the edge of the back clearing. He wondered if it was one of the trees that SE Prescott had mentioned in his journal. If so, Scout would have been buried somewhere back there.
“He used to have a barn, right?” Amber asked, looking around.
“Yes, a small stable away from the house,” Jan said. “That’s been gone for decades. We’re headed back in that direction. Do you see the path?”
Alan nodded and went first. Alarms were ringing in his head. There was definitely something back there, and he was certain that he didn’t want to know what it was. Momentum kept him moving forward—that and a fear of looking silly. If what was back there didn’t frighten an old lady, what right did he have to be afraid?
He stopped at the edge of the hill where the path led down to a stream.
“That’s far enough,” Jan said. “He doesn’t come closer than that.”
“He?” Amber asked.
Jan motioned for them to lean in closer to her.
“There’s a beast back there. I was warned that it was a bear, but in the past few years I’ve dismissed that explanation. Every year, around this time, the beast comes out of hibernation. I don’t think it can cross the stream. Some animals are wary like that. The oldest, most superstitious people in my family used to say that running water was like a magnet that would pull on your soul. If your soul
