THIRTY-SIX

A single snapped twig gave Mason warning that he was being watched. Then he heard a giggle.

He spun, the skin on his neck covered with goose bumps.

Through the rugged valleys, Mason had traveled in two hours what would have taken anybody else six. Silent and efficient as a deer. But as good as he was, outlaws guarded the perimeter of the valley with many of the same skills. Bar Elohim tolerated, even encouraged, their predatory actions as an obstacle to Appalachians seeking a way Outside.

Still, he’d expected nobody would get near him unless he allowed it.

To see someone a stone’s throw away, stepping around a tree behind him, was startling enough. To see that it was an attractive girl, barely marrying age, was an even bigger surprise. He trusted she’d been waiting there when he passed her. He didn’t want to think she’d managed to follow him without his knowing it.

She giggled again. She had dark hair, tied in ponytails. Wide, shining eyes set atop a body equally alluring in tight pants and a partially unbuttoned shirt.

“A stranger,” she said, showing no fear. “Here in the middle of nowhere. What’s your name, stranger? You are plenty handsome. You lost? I’ve got lots of time.”

Mason Lee rubbed his face. “Maybe you can help me.”

The girl was good-looking all right.

Her smile widened. “Be happy to.”

“I need to find someone named Brij,” Lee said. “He’s supposed to live somewhere up here.”

“You’re looking for the Clan?”

Mason nodded.

“You’re not in a hurry, are you?” She leaned against the tree. “It gets boring around here. A stranger is an exciting thing for someone like me.”

Mason’s cast was heavy, and the arm inside it throbbed. He smoothed his mustache with his other hand as studied her. In her face, he saw flashes of a little girl he remembered. “I think you’d enjoy watching a couple of your brothers take the boots to me. Maybe after that, you’d help them strap me to a log.”

Her eyes narrowed and her face grew hard.

“So…you going to give me directions to find a man named Brij, or am I on my own again?”

As a reply, she lifted her hands to her mouth and used her fingers to whistle shrilly.

Seconds later, two men appeared on the path in front of Mason. Both carried polished clubs.

“What kind of a welcome is this?” Mason grinned. “You’re all treating me like a stranger.”

“Mason Lee,” the thin man said, shaking his head. “Got time to come down to the river? We’re getting ready for another floater. He’s been there a couple of days and about to expire anyway.”

“I’ve always got time for some family-style entertainment.”

“This is Mason Lee?” The girl shrank back toward a tree trunk.

“None other. Took me a few minutes to recognize you, little girl,” Mason said. “A man’s got to come home once in a while.”

Jordan sat on the front porch of a cabin, somewhere deep in the valley. He swayed in a rocker, staring at the horizon, letting his muscles relax. He had a glass of lemonade beside him and sipped from it occasionally, moving his arm slowly to do so, afraid to crack stitches.

He saw movement in the trees just down the hill. An older man entered the clearing, wearing khakis and a brown shirt. Dark sunglasses with small round lenses. Short gray hair, short gray goatee. A deliberate soft and slow walk.

Jordan knew him by only one name—Brij. He tried to stand as Brij stepped onto the porch, but the effort hurt too much. Jordan leaned back in the rocker.

“Welcome home.” Like his movements, Brij’s voice was slow.

“It’s good to see you, Brij,” Jordan said. “I expected to be in a factory. Or dead, but never here again.”

“After all you’ve done for us…” Brij sat on a rocker beside Jordan. “We couldn’t tell you ahead of time. Or even warn you about the coffin. It’s hard to hold back information if they give you pharmaceuticals.”

“Caitlyn…” Jordan lost his voice to the emotion he could barely contain.

“Her vidpod location shows us that she’s made it into the valley,” Brij said. “I put the word out among the outlaws. As long as she doesn’t offend them, I expect she’ll be at the GPS coordinates today. Three o’clock. I promise I’ll be there waiting for her.”

At the river, Mason saw a small, naked man, arms wrapped and tied around the circumference of a floater log set upright.

The base of the log rested on the ground and was short enough for the man’s chin to rest on it, with his chest firmly pressed into the bark of the log by the pressure of the bindings that held him to it. His mouth was gagged.

“He didn’t have much to take,” the girl said. “But he sure was in a hurry to give me something.”

She walked over and slapped the man’s butt, obviously showing off for Mason. “Next time, you don’t try stuff like that on a girl you find in the woods.” She giggled. “Oops, never mind, there won’t be a next time.”

She pushed the log, and it toppled the man over. A muffled cry of pain escaped the gag.

“Anyone going to help me?” she asked her two brothers and Mason.

“You’re doing fine, Sis.” The red-headed brother didn’t look up when he spoke, picking at dead skin on his hand with a penknife.

“Jessie Cutter, you are all grown up from when I last saw you, but still barely bigger than a twig.” Mason helped her roll the log toward the river, with the log thumping the man every revolution. He knew what would happen next. Once the man was in the river, his own weight would roll him under the log, under the surface of the water. Well before the log had floated a hundred yards downstream, he would be drowned. His body would eventually be found at the dam, still tied to the log.

Just another floater.