Page 15 of Red in Tooth and Claw

Our options, such as they were, had been limited, which was how I found myself hunched behind a barrel and hoping whoever our visitor was, they weren’t in mind for a late-night turnip. The barrels were only about a foot or so from the wall—just far enough to keep the moisture from the dirt wall from getting in.

I’m not a big person, so I was easily cramped behind it. Dai Lo sat next to me, probably wishing she’d taken Jesse’s jacket. If anyone peeked, she would be the most visible in the bright white of her nightgown. Jesse’s stature meant he didn’t fit in our hiding spot at all. He’d had to shift himself sideways, his head practically dangling out of Dai Lo’s lap and into mine. His eyes were clamped shut, and I wondered if he was hoping that if he couldn’t see the intruder, they couldn’t see him.

And I knew all this because whoever was stepping down the cellar stairs had brought a light with them.

Candlelight flickered as they came down the steps, making the boards creak. A fairly big person, then—not one of the youngins sneaking around on a dare. We held our breaths, not wanting any sound to betray us.

The footsteps moved across the boards now, heading toward Cartwright. I heard a soft murmuring, a soothing tone, cajoling. The kind of voice you used when trying to get a body to go along with your way of thinking.

“We can’t just take it,” a man said in a whisper so low, I couldn’t quite make out everything he was saying or who he was, either. A man’s voice, but beyond that, I wasn’t sure. His next whisper was sharp—a command, surely. “No…something else…”

A bone-chilling growl made my fingers go cold, my insides feeling liquid with fear.

Animal musk filled my nostrils as I breathed in as slow and quiet as I could.

The growl was low, the kind of noise you felt rather than heard. My blood iced in my veins, and despite the frigid air, I broke out in a sweat.

The person hissed something. “…carrion. Fresh, I promise…”

A low snarl. Dai Lo’s hand grabbed mine, and I gripped tight. Whatever was out there was going to scent us. Scent us and then eat us up for supper, just like it had Cartwright.

This cellar was a coffin alright—mine. Ours.

Because I had not a shred of doubt that whatever had ended Cartwright’s life was snarling a few feet away from us.

“They’ll know,” the man argued, his words so low it took me a second to make sense of them. “…may be ours…” and then more words that I missed, followed by “…you’ll feed.”

The creature stopped snarling and chuffed. I couldn’t hear the next exchange at all, but a few more seconds passed, and then blessedly, the footsteps retreated.

The stairs creaked.

The click of the door shutting.

Darkness.

Dai Lo’s sweaty hand in mine, both of us shivering in terror. I assumed Jesse was as well because he was a smart fella, and smart people would be terrified right now. We didn’t move or make a sound.

I counted off seconds in my head.

Then minutes.

Fifteen went by before I shifted, the other two following my lead, straightening up. Jesse’s lighter flicked. Blessed light. The room looked the same as it had before. Cartwright still stretched out on the table, the sheet over him outlining him like a shroud. And yet, somehow, the entire room had changed, and I wanted nothing more than to run out of it.

The next morning, after HisBen’s ruminations on sacrificing for those in need, I was just exiting the chapel when I heard a shout by the barn. One of the older boys, Ernest, had gone to feed and water the animals before breakfast. As I watched, he came barreling out of the doors, barely making it to the side of the barn before casting up his accounts.

I was running to the barn before the puke hit the ground.

Dai Lo beat me by a hair, so we opened the barn door together. The smell hit me before my eyes could adjust to the lower light. Along with the usual hay, manure, and animal musk was an overpowering stench of death—coppery blood, offal, and fear.

I put my arm up to cover my mouth and followed Dai Lo deeper into the barn. A quick glance told me the horses and cows were fine. I could hear the grunting of the pigs, along with the scuffing sounds of animals moving around.

But the goats.

The goats were a different matter. Nothing moved in the goat pen. Nothing made noise. There was so much destruction, so much gore and half-dried, sticky blood, that it took my eyes a moment to make sense of it. It was like an angry giant had smashed its hand into the goat pen, breaking and tearing until there was nothing left.

“Oh,” Dai Lo said softly. “Oh no.” Tears streaked down her face and her breath hitched.

I climbed into what was left of the goat enclosure, my boots making soft thuds in the dirt as I stepped gingerly around the mess, the sounds echoing in my empty heart.

I found Gertie by the water trough.

Her eyes were glassy and fixed, like a doll’s. She was a bloody mess, broken and torn. I picked her up anyway, holding her in my lap. My fingers shook as I traced her cheek, before putting mine against hers, the hair rough against my skin. “Oh, girl. My sweet Gertie girl.”

I didn’t sob or keen, though my eyes watered enough. It hurt too much, like a really bad burn. The kind you felt later. The pain longer, more lingering, when it arrived.

Dai Lo put a hand on my shoulder. She didn’t say anything. I took her hand, holding it while I held Gertie.

A shadow fell over us, and I looked up to see HisBen, his face held in mournful lines. “A tragedy. Someone must have been careless with the gates. Coyotes can sneak in so easily—all it takes is an inattentive moment.” He cast his gaze over the destruction. “For something so little to cause such a mess—I’ll have a word with the guards about the gates.”

I couldn’t imagine a single coyote doing all this. My mouth opened to howl at him—I know not what—maybe about the creature we heard last night, or to say I didn’t care about his perishing gates.

Dai Lo’s fingers clawed into my shoulder, and I clamped my jaw shut.

HisBen rested a hand on the back of my neck. “Mourn lightly, Mr.Kelly. The Shining God takes us all in His arms, no matter how big or small. Your Gertie is with Him now. Take comfort in that.”

I found little comfort in his words.

In fact, I found exactly none.

I buried Gertie. I have no recollection of what they did with the other goats, but I buried my old friend, feeling a lot like I was burying my own heart. The rest of the day blurred, and I went to bed early.

The next day found me digging another hole, this one outside the palisades around the back of the Settlement. Not my favorite pastime, but I was glad to be on my own. I’d put aside Gertie’s death, wrapping the thought up and burying it deep, so I could focus on the night of her death. Who had visited Cartwright’s corpse? What had been with him? Were the stranger and the creature responsible for Gertie’s death? There were several men about the Settlement, many I didn’t know well, like the guards.

By midday, I had no answers, but I was dizzy with exhaustion. My sleep had been poor, and I’d barely touched the last few meals. Compounded grief had about killed my appetite. I hadn’t been in the best shape to begin with. If I hadn’t managed to talk Miss Moon into lending me some gloves, I would have reopened the wounds on my hands by now.

“You look like something the cat brought in,” Will said.

I tossed another shovelful of dirt onto the pile before taking a moment to rest.

“And the cat was more mad than hungry,” Will added. He shook his head and handed me a canteen. “Thought you could use some water and a meal.”

I set the shovel down along the side of the hole and climbed out. I’d been working since an hour after breakfast and was about halfway through. Dillard wanted it deep, something about discouraging scavengers. Without help, it would take me all day.

I pulled off my gloves, dropping them to the ground, and took the canteen. I drained half the water before taking a breath. Will produced another canteen. I traded with a question on my face, but he just smiled. The second canteen held coffee, still hot. Will was a god among men.

“Take a load off. I come bearing other gifts.”

I sat on the ground as Will delivered my lunch to me. Cartwright’s grave was not only behind the Settlement, but close to the Penitent Box. I’d had to stare at it all morning while I was digging. I wondered if that was why HisBen had chosen this spot.

Will unloaded my lunch—cold chicken, an apple, a hunk of goat cheese, and even a few oatmeal cookies. He’d apparently brought enough for two, setting out his own lunch on a napkin.

Will rubbed his hands together. “Say what you want about this place, but the food is plentiful.”

“Not what I imagined,” I said, biting into the apple.

“Yeah,” he said, almost to himself. “Not what I imagined, either.” He didn’t seem pleased by it but didn’t expand on it further.

“You’ll find her,” I said, wanting to comfort him. “Mary Ellen, I mean.”

He nodded at me, grateful for my empty reassurance.

We ate in silence for a moment. As soon as I’d bit into the apple, I was suddenly ravenous. “I must have been more focused than I thought. I didn’t even see you walk up.” Cartwright’s grave was close to the tree line, several paces away from the Settlement wall. I should have been able to see Will coming from a ways off, as he would have had to walk along the line of the wall to get to where I’d been digging.

The side of his mouth kicked up. “I found a sneaky way.”

He had my full attention now, and he laughed.

“Yeah, thought you might like that. Thing about these places? Stuff happens—emergencies and the like. Sometimes you need a bolt-hole or some way to sneak people out during an attack.” He tipped his head. “The Settlement has a hidden escape route.”

I finished the last bite of my chicken as I contemplated this. “Should you be sharing this knowledge with me? After all, you don’t want me haring off.” Bitterness crept into my tone at the end. Not aimed at the gunslinger, but at the people who would hire him. Okay, a little bit at the gunslinger, too.

He bit into his own apple, and when he spoke, his voice was soft. “Thought about it. Decided you needed a way out. Just in case.”

“Why’s that?” I asked, breaking my cookie in half.

He looked back at the Settlement. “After Gertie—I know there’s something very wrong here, and you seem all caught up in it.” He let out a frustrated noise, biting into his apple again. He tapped his chest. “I can feel it. Here. I just don’t know quite what it is yet. I don’t have enough pieces.”

We ate silently for a while, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I was trying to decide whether to tell him about Cartwright’s visitors. As I turned the notion around in my head, I couldn’t see any reason not to. Will wouldn’t turn any of us in for snooping.

Before I thought better of it, I told him about the man, the beast, and my missing watch, though I didn’t say a word about the deed hidden inside. I figured Will might be able to help me find it.

Food now gone, he sipped at the last of the coffee, considering this new information. “Odd. Very, very odd. People do make pets of wild creatures sometimes. Knew a fella who had a pet wolf once. The way it stared at you…” He shook himself.

“Do you think a wolf killed Ger—” I swallowed hard. “The goats?”

Will’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know what did that. Animals kill to eat. Whatever happened in that barn, I don’t think food had much to do with it.”

“Man, then. What about Davens, or Amos—”

“I don’t think it was Amos.”

“Why not?” My tone held a challenge to it. I would have loved for it to be Amos.

“His family came for him,” Will said, surprising me. “While you were in the Box.” He frowned thoughtfully at me while he sipped his coffee. “Thought you knew.”

I shook my head slowly. “I thought for sure he was making all that up. Couldn’t for the life of me understand why anyone would want Amos.”

“Me, either,” Will admitted before returning to the more important topic. “You have no idea what kind of animal was in the cellar?”

“No, sir.”

Will’s gaze skated along the trees as he thought, taking in the area around us. I was knotted up tight, waiting to see if he’d dismiss what I’d said. He hadn’t been there. Hadn’t felt the fear of the moment. He might decide I was fibbing or making too much of a thing. The more he thought, the more I relaxed.

Will capped the canteen in his hand, tossing it aside. “Whatever it is, someone is bringing it into the Settlement.” He leaned back onto his elbows, turning his face up to the sun. After a long moment, he tipped his chin at my morning’s work. “How many bodies you think are buried out here? And how many of them died like Cartwright?”