Tom tried to swing the horses to the side, but the lead horse went up on two legs, bucking the carriage.
Molly screamed, clutching the seat, and barely managed to keep herself from being thrown.
The wagon continued on and over the lump in the road with a sickening thump, and then canted dangerously to the side with a splitting crack.
Finally, the horses stopped, Tom hushing them into submission.
Trembling, Molly turned around to see who they’d hit.
A woman lay in the dirt.
Molly could not tell the sex by the face—that had been smashed into near oblivion by the carriage’s wheels—only by the tattered skirts. Horrified, Molly jumped down.
“Hello?”
There was no answer.
The skull was fractured. The carriage had probably done that, but it certainly hadn’t done the rest.
Something was wrong with the woman’s chest. The dress’s bodice had been torn away. Her skin, pink and shiny, gleamed as if wet.
Reaching out, Molly touched a single fingertip to the mess. It came away tacky with blood.
The woman’s torso had been stripped completely of skin. Whoever had done this was no amateur. The body was flayed so carefully that the muscles were still intact, though it appeared the woman’s left ear had been intentionally removed.
“Molly.”
She pulled back in alarm. But it was just Tom. Tom standing in the shadows, watching.
“Come away from there.”
Her voice was a whisper. “She’s been killed.”
He took hold of her gently, helping her to stand. “Yes, but not by us. That woman was dead long before we ever hit her.”
He stepped forward to study the body. Then, bending, he lifted it beneath the arms.
“Are you taking her?” Molly was incredulous.
“It’s a body, ain’t it? Not going to just leave it in the road.”
He began to drag the corpse away. A dark, slimy trail followed behind, like a freshly shot deer being dragged to slaughter.
As it passed, the corpse’s eye winked up at Molly, still wet.
Her stomach flipped, and she had to turn hurriedly away to avoid losing her dinner.
The wagon’s gate opened with a creak, followed by Tom’s grunting and a loud thump.
She wondered if he’d thrown the woman on top of the old lady they’d just collected or if there’d been room for both of them to lie side by side beneath the flour sacks.
Calm down, Molly. Ma’s tender voice sounded, comforting her. Just calm down.
Seconds later, Tom was beside her again.
Shivering, Molly looked out into the dark. The corpse had been fresh.
Very.
She imagined whoever it was making his way here and luring this woman into his sphere. Killing her. A few minutes earlier, and Molly would have been close enough to touch him.
“Why would anyone do something like that?” she whispered, seeing the flayed corpse again in her mind.
Tom hesitated before answering. “There’s darkness out there, Molly. And it ain’t in the sky. It’s in us.”
And the Knifeman, she thought, hands clenched into fists. Edgar could have used his doctor’s knife on this woman and pocketed an ear instead of a tail as his trophy.
But there had been something strangely familiar about what remained of the dead woman’s face.
Bracing herself, she went to the back of the wagon. A shape moved by the edge of the road. She spun around, but no one was there.
“Molly, what are you doing?”
Nerves tensing, she lifted the tarpaulin.
“Jesus,” Tom said as he jumped down behind her. “There’s no need for you to go looking at that.” He yanked the tarpaulin out of her hands.
But she had to know.
With trembling hands, she pried open the crushed mouth and peered inside.
The woman’s teeth were gone.