the community to assure everyone that it was just that, a meteor that
fell and that the science department at the University of Oregon has already come to
pick it up. People seem to be excited that such a thing happened in our little town.
They won’t question it.”
“That’s great and all,” Smoker says. “Just one thing: there was no fucking
meteor.”
“Bah,” Walken says. “Semantics. That’s what it could have been regardless. It
could have just burned up upon entry and then fell apart when it landed.” “Or, it could have been one of those drones they’ve got along the Mexican
border,” Smoker says coldly. “You’ve supposedly got an FBI agent in town out of the blue, and then something falls out of the sky on the same day? I’m not a believer
in coincidence, Walken.”
“A drone, you say.” Walken laughs. “If that’s the case, it must have gone the
way of the meteor, then, wouldn’t you agree? I assume a drone would have left
debris.”
“Unless that kid got to it first,” Smoker snaps. “You were the one who saw his
truck.”
“I can’t be sure of what I saw,” Walken admits. “It looked like the Ford, but I
was in such a hurry. And besides, it didn’t look like Benjamin driving.” At hearing my name upon his lips, my blood freezes.
“It could have been that other guy,” Griggs says. “That big fucker that tried to
start shit at Little House.”
“What did you say his name was?”
“Blue. Cal Blue. Or Calliel or some shit. Supposedly from California. Still
waiting to hear back from the DMV to see if there is any record of him on file there.” Oh, Jesus. Cal. Fuck, what if he sees my thread? No. Stay away, Cal. In my fear,
I try to push Cal as far away from my thoughts as I can.
“And if there’s not?” Walken asks.
“Then obviously he’s lying,” Smoker says. “Which means he has something to
hide. And this close to a moving date, I don’t deal well with unknown variables.” “Speculation, all,” Walken says. “He’s probably just Benji’s ass buddy. Lord
knows that boy has been alone for so long. Maybe he’s just found someone to give
him attention. Big Eddie’s death was hard on him.”
“Fucking faggots,” Smoker spits.
“Quite,” Walken says, sounding amused. “We’ll keep an eye on him, and this
Cal Blue. Actions can be taken if necessary. I’ve sunk too much money into this…
venture… to let it fail.”
“I say we just take them out now,” Smoker snarls. “Kill the fucking faggot
before he goes any further with this. He’s already—” He’s cut off suddenly, a gurgle
coming from his throat.
There’s movement above me from the window, and, for a moment, my panic is
bright and all-consuming; I’m sure I’ve been spotted, that people are staring down at
me from above. I snap my gaze upward and see the back of a balding head pressed
against the window sill, a hand wrapped around his throat. I recognize the mayor’s
ring as it flashes in the dark, a gaudy ruby on his pinkie finger. The hand is squeezed
tight, but no one is looking down at me.
“You seem to forget, Traynor, that you are operating in my town, with my
permission, which makes me your boss. You would do well to remember that. I’d
hate to think that you’d do anything outside the scope of your employment.
Remember, while you are here, I own you. Do you understand this?”
Smoker—or Traynor, I guess—nods, unable to speak.
“Good,” the mayor says as he releases the other man’s neck. Traynor takes in a
gasping breath. “Besides, I’d hate to think of what my boss would do if you acted
without authorization. Doesn’t seem like a good idea for any of us. I will say, though,
that if there are any… issues with the boy, I believe getting permission to hunt him
down won’t be as hard as we all think. Until then, we watch. Is that understood?” “Yes, sir,” voices rumble in agreement.
“And you,” he says, though I can’t tell to whom he’s speaking. “I expect you to
keep a close eye out. Are we clear?”
A grunt of consent.
“Now, then, shall we check the maps? I’m sure there are plenty of places we
could look at should we have to move. Sheriff, would you do the honors?” The voices and footsteps fade as they start to move away. I release the breath I
hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
And then I run.
I don’t turn on the headlights until I’m almost back to Poplar Street. I consider,
for a moment, still trying to find Cal, but he could be anywhere. He could be gone, for all I know. If he’s going to come back,