“Hmmm. Okay, take it.”
He considered a wicked-looking implement next. The spring-loaded, saw-toothed monstrosity was designed to maim and restrain North America’s largest predator, the bear. Using something this lethal would be in direct violation of a primary Cthor-Vangt tenant: don’t cause injury to any human unless in self-defense. There wasn’t much wiggle room in that regard. All Fergus had to do to defend himself against Lizzy was to leave the holler. But he had no intention of doing that. Not yet. Not until he had eliminated her threat to the residents, and most importantly, to the children. He would deal with any Cthor fallout later, but he also wouldn’t consider using such an exceptionally painful method for dealing with any dangerous human, even Lizzy.
Serena Jo said, “What type of firearm do you prefer? One of the ARs? Some of our younger Scouts seem to like them.”
“If I were hunting feral hogs in Oklahoma that might be my choice. For this mission, I’ll take the Browning pistol, loaded. No extra clips.”
“That’s it?”
“I’ll only get one chance at Lizzy, and when I do, I won’t miss.”
Fergus liked to think he saw a flash of admiration on the beautiful face, but it might have been skepticism.
***
By nightfall, Fergus was situated in his deer blind. Or perhaps ‘Lizzy blind’ would have been a more appropriate description. He’d gotten the idea from his earlier conversation with Skeeter. Hunter purists might disparage their use, but they wouldn’t if they were tracking a ruthless psychopath.
By midnight, his butt was killing him.
Perched on a leviathan oak branch ten feet above the ground, his face covered in black soot to match the borrowed black clothing, he should be nearly invisible. A smart hunter knew that in addition to masking one’s appearance, one’s smell must also be disguised. Prior to leaving the village, he had taken care to bathe in a washtub of heated water — no soap — and then rolled around in the crunchy dead leaves covering the forest floor. He had inadvertently rolled in some animal scat, but that should only further camouflage his natural musk. What exuded from him as he crouched in the branches would have discouraged all but the most ardent suitor. The notion made him smile. He would take a moment to send his scythen down to Florida.
Hello, darling. I was just thinking about you. I hope I didn’t wake you.
Of course you woke me, but I don’t mind. You know that. How are things there? Have you taken up with an axe-wielding lumberjack wench?
Fergus grinned. No. I’ve been faithful to you, love. At least so far.
I wish I could say the same.
Do tell.
He’s much too young for me, but aren’t they all?
Indeed.
I’ll enjoy it while it lasts.
As you should. How is the Colony?
Flourishing. I’m utterly content here. It was the right decision. No regrets, love.
The familiar stab almost unseated him. He couldn’t bear thinking about Amelia’s banishment from their home. She would live another thirty or forty years — with luck — and then she would die and turn to dust. Just like everyone who didn’t have access to the suspended-animation qualities of Cthor-Vangt.
I miss you.
What’s happening with the children you mentioned?
Plenty. Not sure if either are potential recruits yet, but I did just discover that the boy regularly journeys to the astral plane.
Delightful! Just like Jessie.
Exactly. The child was able to gather useful information about a dangerous foe.
Amelia didn’t answer right away. He was beginning to wonder if they’d lost their connection.
You told him about shielding himself in situations like that? Astral dreaming can be a two-way street, you know.
Damn! He had forgotten that not only was Jessie able to see the malevolent Isaiah during her dreams, but he was able to see her as well.
No, I didn’t think to tell him. I will, though, the next time I see him.
The sooner the better. I must sign off, darling. My young paramour is stirring.
Very well. Just do me a favor. Picture my face on his muscular, nubile body during your lovemaking.
Of course!
He could hear the smile in her voice.
The next moment, he was alone in the woods, cold and worried. He hadn’t gotten the opportunity for a private chat with Harlan before he’d left, and didn’t know if the boy had managed to slip into an astral dream the night before. It seemed unlikely, though. Harlan said the dreams only happened a couple of times each month. Unless, as Fergus had instructed, the boy had figured out how to initiate the experience through sheer will.
The tree in which he perched offered a clear view of the three logs where Harlan had seen Lizzy dancing in his dream. He hoped she would reappear tonight, following the subtle trail he’d left for her through the forest. The revolver from Ray’s warehouse pointed toward the fallen-log triangle Harlan had mentioned. The Browning from the U-Haul pressed against the small of his back. His backpack, looped on a nearby branch, held the tear gas and midazolam.
All he could do was wait.
Thank goodness for the last cup of coffee Serena Jo had offered before his departure. Between the caffeine and the discomfort of straddling a tree limb, he had no fear of falling asleep. The minutes passed like hours, and still Lizzy didn’t skulk into sight. The scent of wood smoke teased his nose from time to time; he wondered if it came from the village or elsewhere. Had Lizzy found a new location from which to conduct her murder sprees? All the details Harlan had supplied from his dream indicated she had set up some kind of camp here. There was something significant about the three logs and their positioning. He could imagine primitive people in
