CHAPTER 55 RILEY

55

Riley

THEY MADE RILEY WEAR a blindfold. Well, sort of. Even though it was only October, Robby had a scarf in the side pocket of his backpack. Before Riley could ask why he carried a scarf when it wasn't cold, Mason had told her, "Don't ask," and wrapped it around her head twice before tying it in the back. Riley was less concerned with why he had a scarf than she was with where it had come from, because Robby had at least one dead bird in that bag, and who knew what else, but she didn't say anything because she didn't want to give Mason another opportunity for a baby joke. She was ten—hardly a baby—and he was an idiot.

"She's slowing us down," Mason muttered from somewhere up ahead.

Evelyn was holding Riley's arm, guiding her, little good that did. It was one thing when they were on pavement, it was another entirely when they'd stepped into the woods and the ground became uneven, covered with who-knew-what she might trip over. She moved as quickly as she could, but she wasn't about to fall.

"I'm taking the blindfold off," Evelyn said. "We're deep enough into the woods, she won't know where we are."

"She does figure it out, and I guess we'll have to kill her," Mason replied, unable to keep from laughing at his stupid joke.

They'd talked like that since the blindfold went on—like she couldn't hear them. Like the wool over her eyes blocked her hearing as well as her sight. It was a little muffled, but she heard them just fine. She also had a pretty good handle on where they were. They'd entered the woods at Bolson Pass; that was the closest path to the water tower, and they hadn't walked on the pavement long enough to reach another. They were moving uphill, too. She could feel that easily enough. There'd been one left turn and one right, and she'd briefly heard the sound of the waterfalls near Diana's Baths before they left the well-worn trail for some secondary path far less traveled.

"Hold up a second." Evelyn untied the knot at the back of Riley's head and unwrapped the scarf. Riley squinted as the sun came into view, high and to her right. She knew that meant they were heading north. Matt had taught her how to figure out her direction pretty much any time of the day using the sun. He even showed her how to figure it out at night with the stars. And he told her if she ever got lost in the woods, she should try to find water and follow it downhill. Downhill and south would always bring her back to Hollows Bend.

Looking down at her feet, she realized the trail they were on wasn't much of a trail at all. Unlike the ones she normally took with Matt and her mom, this one looked like even the deer ignored it. They were sandwiched between a wall of rock on the right and a dense forest on the left. Both Mason and Robby were busy moving the branches of a deadfall aside. Several of them were tied together, and she realized they'd been placed there to hide the path.

"Robby's idea," Evelyn told her. "In case some tourist gets too close."

"Too close to what?"

Then she saw it, just beyond the deadfall. The mouth of a small cave.

"Come on." Even though she was no longer blindfolded, Evelyn took her by the arm as before and guided her to the opening. "Watch your head. It opens up inside."

Riley followed Evelyn through the narrow opening and found herself standing in complete darkness, like the sunlight wasn't allowed in. The air was cool and damp.

A match flickered to life, and Evelyn lit an old oil lantern. "Robby figured out how to get this going with some magic formula of vegetable oil and who-knows-what, but it burns a lot longer than the battery-operated one we first brought up here." She twisted a small knob, and the flame grew brighter.

Riley gasped.

The cave was much bigger than she expected—at least twenty feet tall at the center and as deep as the light could reach. For the most part, the ground was flat; someone had taken the time to rake it. They'd also brought in some old plastic lawn chairs, a folding card table. There was a cooler and a radio …

"We've been bringing stuff up with us whenever we can," Evelyn explained. "Things from the dump, mostly. Or the curb. You'd be surprised what some people throw out."

Riley stepped up to a rope hanging from a stalactite above. The bottom end vanished inside a red five-gallon gas can with a garden hose spigot rigged into the side. "What's that?"

"Oh, that's more of Robby's doing." Evelyn plucked a paper Dixie cup from atop a plastic milk crate and filled it from the spigot. "Water comes down off the ceiling, follows the rope, and fills the can. Robby tested it when we first found this place and said it's more pure than the water from our tap at home. Really cold, too. Want some? We got more cups around here somewhere."

Riley shook her head.

"Suit yourself." Evelyn drank the water in one gulp, then placed the cup back where she found it. She walked off toward the back of the cave, vanished in the dark for a moment, then returned with a black duffel bag. Inside was a microscope with PROPERTY OF HOLLOWS BEND MIDDLE SCHOOL stenciled across the top.

"Don't you worry about getting in trouble?"

"With school?"

"With anyone," Riley replied. "You guys broke into my house. Into the water tower. Stole that. What happens if you get caught?"

"You gonna tell your mama's boyfriend so he can throw us in kiddie jail? Maybe foster care or juvie?" She opened her mouth as if to say something else, then promptly clamped it shut.

"What?"

She looked at Riley, and for one quick second, the ice left her eyes. Then she quickly blinked it back. "It's nothing … You just crack me up. I bet you think your life is hard with no daddy around. You probably never considered it could be worse if he was."

Before Riley could respond to that, Mason and Robby came in.

Evelyn took the microscope from the bag and smiled a real smile for the first time today. She held it out to her brother. "Happy birthday!"

Robby waved toward the card table without looking at her. "Set it up over there."

The smile vanished and her shoulders slumped, as if the microscope doubled in weight.

"Ass-burger," Mason said in a voice so low, nobody but Riley probably heard him.

Robby set his backpack down on a piece of old cardboard near the cave wall and began removing the contents one by one. There were three dead birds; at least one being the crow he'd picked up outside Riley's house, a ziplock bag filled with dirt, another filled with leaves, and several other things Riley couldn't quite make out in the dim light. He took one of the birds, laid it on its back, and spread its wings. Using pins from a small plastic box, he fastened the bird to the cardboard.

Riley swallowed. "What's he doing?"

"Oh, you're gonna love this, he's gonna dissect it," Mason told her.

He was only eight, and that was something they didn't teach in school until eighth grade. First worms, then frogs, then pigs. Everyone knew about it because the entire school smelled like a jar of bad pickles for nearly a month. "Does he know how?"

"Ass- burger ," Mason said again, this time emphasizing the second word like he was making some kind of statement. "Little man knows how to do all kinds of crazy shit."

"But he still picks his nose."

Mason nodded slowly. "But he still picks his nose. I don't get it, either."

"You'll wanna see," Evelyn said, stepping closer to her brother to get a better look.

"I think I'm okay right here."

"Naw, she's right," Mason told her. "If it's like the other one, you'll want to watch. Breathe through your mouth. It's not so bad."

"What other ones?"

"From the diner. Hurry up, before we miss it!"

Mason pulled her by the arm until they were hovering over Robby.

"Flashlight, Ev," Robby said. "Maybe record it this time?"

"Good idea."

Robby produced a scalpel, no doubt pilfered from the middle school, too. He waited for his sister to shine the beam of her phone's light down on the bird and brought the blade to its belly. Riley wasn't sure she could watch.

"Recording?"

"Yeah."

Mason whispered, "I know it's gross, but don't look away. It happens fast."

Riley was about to ask him what happens fast when Robby pressed down on the blade and drew it down the bird's belly in one quick motion, like a doctor on TV, only this wasn't TV, and the camera didn't cut away. There was a soft crunching noise, like potato chips breaking, and a thin, dark line appeared in the feathers. Riley thought it was blood, at least until it started to smoke.