Blood of Cain

97

A rising full moon was my only light source driving the twisting logging road around the edge of a mountain. Tree limbs and branches raked down the side of the rental car. I set my phone on the center console and listened to Dave give me random directions from satellite GPS signals that could definitely see the forests, but not the trees. “Sean, looks like you’re within maybe three or four hundred yards from what appears to be the perimeter of Dillon’s compound.”

“What are you getting from Courtney’s phone signal?”

“It’s stationary, and it’s weak. Hasn’t moved in more than an hour. I’m worried.”

“How far do you think it is from where I am right now?”

“Mile, maybe a little more.”

“I’m running out of what’s left of this logging trail. Got to go the rest of the way on foot.”

“I’m following you. Stay off any obvious paths into the compound. You don’t know if they’re booby-trapped. He could even have buried a few landmines.”

I saw a text message pop up on my phone. Reading it, my blood ran cold. Dillon Flanagan wrote: I know you’re here little brother — during the great flood, God murdered everyone on earth except Noah’s family — He set an example for me to follow — bury your heart because Courtney will perish in the flood waters — and you’re next, as was Abel-

I sat in the car and re-read the text, my thoughts racing. I shut off the engine, grabbed a flashlight from the glove box, extra rifle cartridges, and stepped out into the light of the moon. The tall cedars cast shadows across the trail. I could smell pine needles and rain in the air. I glanced up in the sky, the full moon bright, but clouds in the distance, the dark guts of the clouds streaking with veins of heat lighting.

Dave said, “What’s happening? I can tell you’re not moving.”

“I just received a text from Dillon. I’ll read it to you. He said: ‘I know you’re here little brother — during the great flood, God murdered everyone on earth except Noah’s family — He set an example for me to follow — bury your heart because Courtney will perish in the floodwaters — and you’re next, as was Abel.’ ”

“Is that all he wrote?”

“Yes, but it’s enough. It looks like a hell of a storm is brewing over the mountains. Look on your satellite topography chart and find a low-lying area.”

“There aren’t many in the Blue Ridge Mountains.”

“Find someplace that might be prone to flooding. A valley or gorge, maybe. Someplace that could be susceptible to flash flooding, and somewhere close to Dillon’s compound.”

“Give me a minute. You think he stuck her in a ravine somewhere?”

“Yes. He said to bury my heart because Courtney will perish in the floodwaters. I think he buried her somewhere, and the rain is coming.”

“Sean, he’s laying a trap for you.”

Courtney tried to control her breathing. The coffin was almost airless, muggy and hot. Perspiration soaked her blouse. Her left cheek was throbbing and swollen from Dillon’s kick, lower lip puffed-up, dried blood crusted in one corner of her mouth. Soft light from the moon came in through the pipe, illuminating her face damp from sweat. She forced herself to stay calm. It was the only way an asthma attack wouldn’t return.

She thought about Boots, his smile and his kind encouraging words. She remembered the long talks she used to have with Isaac, and how much his dog meant to him. She remembered Sean’s dachshund, Max — her big brown eyes, the way she could catch a piece of food in mid-air. Courtney smiled. She thought about her grandmother. A single tear spilled from her eye and rolled down her cheek, falling onto the wood beneath her head.

She looked through the pipe, watching the moon, watching a wisp of dark cloud floating in front of the moon. The interior of the coffin darkened for a moment, and then the cloud passed, the light returning. She lay there, staring through the pipe, the light coming from so far away. And then a large cloud seemed to devour the moon.

And the interior of the casket was the darkest black Courtney had ever seen and felt.