Rustler's Moon. Jodi Thomas
night I swear I felt a shiver run down my back like someone walked over my grave.”
Wilkes smiled realizing, truth or not, the guy could tell a story better than Uncle Vern.
“When I felt it calling last night, I gripped the flashlight in my pocket like a weapon and stepped off the road, determined to get to the bottom of this nightmare. I headed through the high weeds that circle the place like a moat around a monster’s castle. I had to do something.” Yancy’s hands balled into fists.
“I yelled that I was going in, but I sounded like a frightened boy. I’m tired of having bad dreams, Wilkes, and last night I figured to put an end to it.
“The warped frame of what had once been a screen door tapped against the side of the house as if knocking on a crypt’s door in a forgotten cemetery. I planted my boot on the porch and stepped up, relieved that the wood took my weight.” Yancy took a few seconds to breathe.
Wilkes waited.
“I yelled like I wasn’t afraid. ‘You don’t frighten me.’ I took one step toward the door. The boards creaked as if crying out for me to stay back, but I didn’t stop. I widened my stance and pulled the hammer I’d brought from the loop on my pants. With as much force as I could manage, I pulled the nails from the two-by-fours blocking the door.
“As the boards rattled across the porch, I took a long breath. What I was doing was probably a crime. The place has do-not-enter signs posted at every corner of the house. But I didn’t care. I’d made up my mind.”
Wilkes shoved his coffee cup aside. He felt as if he was at the old house with Yancy. His senses hadn’t felt so alive since the army.
“Once the boards were off, I shoved the door open and flashed my light inside. Three rotted steps led down onto what looked like a dirt floor. If there was wood beneath the dirt, I couldn’t tell. When part of the roof must have tumbled in on the high school kids, no one thought to clean anything up.
“I avoided the steps and jumped down into the lower level of the house. The remains of a staircase leading up to the second floor lined one wall. They reminded me of rotting, broken teeth hanging lopsided in an open mouth. When I passed my light over the floor, I noticed a few old broken chairs and a bed frame.
“All the noise of loose boards rattling and wind whistling through cracks seemed muted inside. I just stood there, too afraid to go farther. If something fell on me, I’d be nothing but bones before anyone thought to look for me in that old place. Then, in the stillness, I swear I felt a hand on my shoulder, a slight tug pulling me deeper into the blackness.”
Wilkes could barely breathe waiting for what came next.
“Whatever drew me to the house seemed to want to keep me there.
“Fear stampeded through my blood, I raced out and hammered the boards back across the door knowing even as I did it that I’d have to come back.”
Yancy took a drink. “The house calls me, Wilkes, I swear, and it won’t stop until I figure out why.”
Wilkes exhaled deeply. “That’s some story. What’s your question?”
Yancy grinned. “Can you help me figure out what it wants with me? I need to know the history of the place and who I have to get permission from to go in without worrying about being caught. I’ve thought about it all night. You’re the only person I know who might go back with me. I remember that night on the Kirkland Ranch when we were waiting for the rustlers in the dark. You said, after the army, you gave up being afraid of anything. Well, now is your chance to prove it. Go back to the house with me.”
Their waitress must have been tired of waiting for them to motion her over. She appeared, notepad in hand, ready to take their order. “If you two don’t order breakfast soon, you’ll have to switch to the lunch menu.”
Both men apologized to her and ordered the special. She refilled their coffee and mentioned something about how Dorothy should charge for squatters.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Wilkes smiled. “I’m in. I’ll see what history I can find on the house and we’ll recon the site one night soon.”
Lauren
Texas Tech University
THE STRONG WEST TEXAS wind blasted dirt against her bare legs as Lauren Brigman ran across campus. No girl at Texas Tech wore a dress on days like this, but she’d thought maybe she would see Lucas, her almost boyfriend, today. He had gone home to work every weekend since she’d arrived on campus. Then last week he said he might not be driving home to Crossroads until early Saturday morning, which meant they might see each other tonight.
It meant they could have a date. A real date, she thought as she stormed the dorm door and took the two flights of stairs at a run.
She had spent her last two years of high school waiting for Lucas to come home from college so they could start dating. Only, when he did come home, he was always working on weekends and their times together consisted of no more than a few moonlit walks along the lake or early-morning coffee at the café before he headed back. He’d promised that when she joined him at Tech it would be different. They would be together, a real couple. Studying wrapped up in one another. Sharing kisses in the dark corners of the library. Late-night phone calls.
Until last month, she’d lived on thirty-minute breakfasts with him before he left Crossroads to go back to Lubbock, and late-night ice-cream runs where they talked in the Dairy Queen parking lot after he got finished working on one of the ranches around town. She’d lived on hope that he’d soon be her real boyfriend. They’d finally both be in college. They’d be a couple. No one could say he was too old for her. A few years difference wouldn’t seem so much.
She’d been at Texas Tech over a month and none of her dreams were coming true. Her entire love life had been Photoshopping her and Lucas Reyes’s faces onto couples in all the old movies she’d seen. If possible she saw less of him here than she had when she’d lived in Crossroads and he’d dropped in on weekends to work. College wasn’t turning out to be what she planned.
As Lauren opened her dorm room door, she wasn’t surprised to see her roommate still in bed. After all, it wasn’t dark yet.
Polly Pierce rolled over, her black-and-red hair streaking across her face. “You’re back already?”
“It’s after five, Polly. You missed lunch.” Lauren used to say that she missed class, but Polly was on the one-semester plan. She never studied and hadn’t bothered to unpack most of her stuff. There was little doubt that she’d be moving back home by Christmas break.
“I know. I’m starving.” She rolled over and pulled an empty cracker box from under her back. “I ate all your peanut butter and crackers.”
“Where’s the peanut butter jar?” Lauren wondered why she even talked to Polly. As an only child raised by her pop, the county sheriff of Ransom Canyon, Lauren had always had her own neat, organized space. Sharing quarters with Polly was like some kind of experiment to see if two different life forms could survive in the same environment.
Polly rummaged around in her mass of covers and found the empty jar. “Don’t give me that look,” she said, cuddling back under her blankets. “I think I’m descended from bears. It’s not my fault the fall semester parallels with hibernation.”
Lauren didn’t comment on how Polly managed to stay awake all weekend. “Don’t you have a date tonight?”
Polly’s words were muffled. “Jack texted me and said he had to work, and my backup date has the flu.” She sighed. “I could go out looking for a backup for my backup, but it’s such a bother to train a new one.”
When Lauren didn’t comment, Polly rolled over to face the wall. End of conversation.
Lauren