CHAPTER 94 MATT

94

Matt

"GET YOUR ASS UP, Sleeping Beauty—"

Icy water splashed down over Matt's face, and his eyes snapped open. At first, he didn't understand where he was—why he was lying on his back, the dark sky rushing by above to the sound of a diesel engine. Then he realized he was in the back of Stu Peterson's pickup, with Eli McCormick and Rodney Campos hovering over him, holding him down. They'd zip-tied his hands, and his utility belt was gone, which meant he no longer had the box cutter he kept in there or his radio, little good that had provided. His gun was gone, and Rodney had Ellie's Colt tucked in the waistband of his jeans.

Matt twisted his head around but didn't see Gabby or Addie.

"Both your girlfriends are riding shotgun with Stu." Rodney nodded over Matt's right shoulder. "He wouldn't let that one in the truck, though. She's stuck back here with us."

The girl who looked like Emily Pridham was wedged near the front of the truck bed, sitting between the window and the wheel well, her legs stretched out, hair and dress fluttering in the wind. Her face was twisted up toward the dark sky, and while no stars were visible, she seemed fixated on something Matt could not see, her silent thoughts elsewhere.

"Stu called her Judgment. What did he mean by that?"

Rodney and Eli exchanged an uncomfortable glance. "Like you don't know," Rodney muttered.

Matt had no idea what to make of her. Every thought that came into his head was crazier than the last. How was she able to show him what Josh had done? How had she forced him to relive that memory with Addie when she touched him back at the station?

Judgment.

That's what Stu had called her.

The only thing that made sense made no sense, but he said it anyway. "She's not human, is she?"

Eli smirked. "Christ, Rod, how hard did you hit him?"

Matt tried to sit up, but Eli held him in place. He looked up at both of them. "It's not too late for either of you to make this right. Don't let Stu drag you down with him. Cut off the zip ties and help me disarm him when we stop."

"I love how you still think you're somehow in charge," Rodney said. "You're damn near hog-tied in the back of a pickup and still barking out orders. I'll let you in on a little secret—ain't nobody coming. Nobody ever was. We're alone in this fishbowl, just like it's always been. You best make peace with that, or you're gonna have a tough time with what comes next."

"What exactly comes next, Rodney?"

Again, Rodney and Eli exchanged a look mixed with both confusion and bewilderment.

"He really doesn't remember. I don't get how that's even possible," Eli said. "Isn't the whole point of this to remember?"

Rodney just shook his head. "Not our place to figure that out. Leave it to Stu"—he nodded at the girl—"Stu and that one."

The truck slowed and made a left turn.

Matt caught a glimpse of a street sign—they were nearing the middle school.

Rodney leaned down. "When it comes time to kill you, I'm hoping Stu lets me do it. I want to save you for last, though. Maybe Gabby first, then Addie, then you. That way you get to watch. I want to see the suffering in your eyes before putting a bullet in your skull. I've killed before, you know. Of course, we've never had the chance to talk about it, it's not really the kind of thing you bring up with the local law, but I've killed plenty. Back in the day, I used to comb Route 112 and pick up hitchhikers. Not often—I did what I could to keep it under control—but every once in a while I'd get the itch and set out on the road. Men, women, teens … it didn't matter much to me. There was just something about picking them up, watching that relief when someone finally stopped, then watching it slowly melt away when they realized they might have gotten into the car with the wrong person. There's not a whole lot you can do when you're moving at eighty miles per hour on an empty road at night. When I showed the knife or the gun or whatever I brought … man, the adrenaline … it just takes over, for both. Sometimes I'd slow, make them think they could jump. Other times I'd let them get the gun—it was unloaded for those, but they didn't know—then I'd gut them with a knife when they thought they had me."

Rodney let out a sigh, and Matt realized he was reliving the memory of whatever he'd done, relishing it. The thought sickened him.

Rodney smiled. "They're all buried out there along 112. So many, I got no need to do it so much anymore. When I get the bug, I just drive the highway and pick out the spots where I planted them. That usually keeps the urge in check. Usually. Some days, I miss it, though." His mind meandered on that for a little bit. Then he nodded at the other man. "Eli here used to bugger children, didn't you, Eli? Why don't you tell Matt about your time driving the school bus back in Oklahoma. How you'd walk some of the young ones into their houses when their parents weren't home. You know, to make sure they got home safe. Help 'em with an after-school snack."

Eli's face went pale, and he looked away. "I don't want to talk about that. You shouldn't be saying nothing, either."

Rodney shrugged. "Matt here will be dead inside an hour. What's the harm?" He looked down at Matt again. "It's times like these that bring neighbors together, don't you think? I can't wait to hear your secrets." He looked over at the girl. "Eli, check her arms for Matt's name. See if he's written there."

Eli shook his head. "I ain't going anywhere near that bitch until I got to."

The truck slowed and made a right at the Hollows Bend Middle School sign, the one that said HOME OF THE BEARCATS . Lying in the truck bed, Matt couldn't see much, but he heard the voices. As the truck slowed and came to a stop near the building, he got the impression everyone from town had come out.