A boom echoed in their ears. A cacophony of cracking wood, pulverized drywall boards, harsh metal shrieks. In the silence that followed came the intermittent jangle of falling glass and the steady thrum of machinery—an engine running.
“It’s them,” Vera said.
“Quiet... I think someone’s calling,” Opal said.
“Can you hear me?”
Opal took the flashlight from her pocket. She aimed it into the kitchen.
Ann-Margret barked at the hall door. She danced, tail wagging, thumping madly on the floor. She barked and whined. Her nails scratched the door.
Footsteps mounted the stairs.
The dog stuck her nose under the door. Huffing and blowing. Her whine growing shriller, she pawed the carpet.
“I’m coming up. Don’t shoot.” The footsteps quickened. “Annie, girl, oh, I missed you, too.”
More footsteps. Louder.
“It’s Max,” Vera said. She was on her feet again. She stood behind Opal, her chest pressing into Opal’s back. She urged her forward. “Let him in.”
“Wait.”
“Why? We know who it is.”
“We should wait.”
The knob on the hall door turned.
Vera stepped around Opal. “I’m going ...”
The door opened slowly. Bony white fingers petted Ann-Margret’s head.
“There’s my girl. Max isn’t going to leave without his Annie.”
Vera rushed to the muddy shadow emerging at the top of the stairs.
Opal shined her light on Max.
Vera stopped.
His eyes were bruised. He smiled at them. Dried blood, crusted in the corners of his mouth. His tongue filled the gap where his front teeth should’ve been.
Vera held his arm.
“What did they do to you?”
Max looked confused. He touched his face with his fingers. He’d forgotten. How had he forgotten ... ?
A fresh rivulet of blood ran from his hairline.
“I hit my head . . . steering wheel... I came to make ... to rescue you.”
He swayed. He didn’t seem to know quite where he was.
Or why he’d come.
Opal watched from the den.
Ann-Margret licked Max’s face. He rubbed her sides. Then he was sobbing as he buried his face into her furry bronze neck.
“Where were you?” Opal asked.
Max wiped away the fresh blood with his sleeve. “They grabbed me when I went outside for my cigar ... I shot two of the bastards dead but another one hit me from behind ... listen, we have to go. Now. The Pitch don’t have control of the town yet. We can get out in the RV. There’s no time to talk.”
“Wyatt and Adam went on the roof. I’m not going anywhere until they come down,” Opal said. She hadn’t moved any closer.
“I think we should leave,” Vera said.
Max said, “Every second we wait is wasted. We’ll get out and
go for help. Over the border bridge, that’s the best way. Wyatt can take care—”
“No,” Opal said.
Vera stood beside Max. “Hey, she can stay if she wants. I’m going with you and Annie.” Her fingers pulled the edge of the door, opened it wider.
Max considered it. “Sure, that’ll work. We’ll take the stone and draw them away from the motel.. .”
“Take the stone?” Opal asked.
“It’s in the oven,” Vera said. “I’ll get it.”
Max shrugged a strap off his shoulder. He passed a weathered, saddle-brown leather satchel to Vera. “Here. Put it inside this.”
“You’re not taking the stone.” Opal came nearer.
“I’m afraid it’s the only choice,” Max said.
Vera opened the oven, took the stone out, and dropped it inside the satchel. She cinched the buckles and looped the strap over her head. The strap lay taut between her breasts.
“All set,” she said.
Fumes from the camper’s tailpipe drifted into the apartment. The gasoline smell made Opal sick to her stomach. She wasn’t going to allow them to leave with the stone. The Pitch couldn’t take it from the apartment. A nonbeliever had to give it freely or steal it. Without the stone they had no protection.
“You’re not taking it!”
Max aimed the revolver at her.
“Please don’t. If you won’t join us, then we have no choice. The stone can’t stay here. We can’t, either.”
“He’s right.”
Adam materialized from his bedroom doorway. The darkness behind him stitched itself together. “It isn’t safe here. We have to leave with the stone.”
Opal watched the dark for signs of Wyatt.
“See? Adam knows what’s right. The boy knows!” Max lowered the barrel of the revolver to the floor. “Time’s against us. We’ve got to move.”
“Where’s your father?” Opal asked.
Adam walked to the head of the stairs and pulled the door back. He nodded in the direction of the camper. Max went down the stairs first. Vera followed. The dog chased after them. Adam put his arm around Opal and steered her to the threshold.
She resisted.
“Mom, please .. .”
“What happened on the roof? Where’s Wyatt?”
Opal stared into her son’s eyes. He said nothing.
Then he looked away.
She struck his chest with her fists.
“Adam? Oh my God ... where is your father /”