Etched in Bone Page 85

“Might have been better for him if it was.” The officer pointed toward the track in the woods. “This way.”

The officer led them just far enough along the track that a curve hid the car from sight. Then he pointed. “The blood trail from the car ends here.”

Steve Ferryman sucked in a breath. “Is that a paw print?”

The officer nodded. “Something picked up a body and carried it off up the track.”

“Did you follow the prints?” Burke asked.

“No, sir. We’re already beyond the right-of-way standing here. If you’ve seen enough, we should get back to the highway.”

If Steve Ferryman hadn’t been with him, he might have pushed to go a little farther up the track, regardless of the risk. But he knew that he wouldn’t find Dominic Lorenzo around here.

The car would be towed to the nearest human settlement, but the officer handed over Lorenzo’s medical bag and carryall. No reason not to since there was no one to arrest, and the highway patrol and crime investigation team didn’t believe there was a body left to be found.

Back in the car, Burke followed Steve’s directions as they continued north toward Lake Tahki until they reached a small village. No welcome sign with the village name. The houses looked a bit shabby—in need of paint—but the yards were neatly kept and every house had flower beds or planters. The business district was the same mix of neat and shabby. An older place with not a lot of money to spare on extras, whether you were talking about the governing body or the individual families.

Burke pulled into the parking lot beside a clinic and drugstore. Saying nothing, he followed Steve inside the clinic—and found Dominic Lorenzo.

“I’m glad to see you,” he said, studying the cuts and bruises on Lorenzo’s face. Pained face. Meg Corbyn had been right about that. Judging by the bandages around the man’s torso and the sling supporting one arm, it was a good bet some of the bullets that hit the car also hit the man but hadn’t inflicted life-threatening wounds.

“I’m glad to be here,” Lorenzo replied. “There were three men . . .”

“Not a worry anymore.”

Lorenzo stared at him, then nodded in understanding.

“What do you want to do?” Burke asked.

Lorenzo gave him a tired smile. “I want to go home. I sent Governor Hannigan my final report and my resignation from the task force a couple of days ago. This was my last stop before heading back to Lakeside.”

“You’re going back to the hospital to work in the emergency room?”

“No. I know too much about the blood prophets and would be vulnerable in a city hospital. I was planning to sell my house, find a way to disappear—find someplace to work where unscrupulous men couldn’t find me.”

“We have an opening for a physician on Great Island,” Steve said. “The work would include running the little clinic in the River Road Community, but that’s safe ground too. Even if you’re looking for something different, we’ll find a place for you on the island until you recover from your injuries.”

“I appreciate that.”

When they were back on the road to Lakeside, Burke said, “Why resign?”

“Besides the risk of leading someone to the girls, or being run off the road by someone trying to capture me for information?” Lorenzo replied dryly. “We weren’t doing those girls any good. I think the governor meant well when he set up the task force, but the girls didn’t need someone coming in to ask questions and disrupt their routine. And sooner or later, someone watching the doctors would see a pattern, would figure out where the girls were located. Like they did with me.”

“What was your recommendation?”

Lorenzo closed his eyes. “To leave them alone to find their own way to deal with the world and their cursed gift of prophecy. That would be the kindest thing we could do for them.”

Messis 16

Dear Merri Lee,

The train ride from Lakeside to Bennett was equal parts exciting and frightening. Despite all of us arriving together, the conductor didn’t want to let me take a seat in the earth native car. Technically, anyone can ride in either car, but that passenger car is reserved for terra indigene and Intuits, while the other passenger car is for regular humans. From what I can tell, and from the bits I picked up from chatting with other passengers when I went to the dining car, there is no difference between the railcars themselves—the earth native symbol is a decal that can be removed and put on any car that’s available. And it’s not like a regular human can’t sit in the earth native car if the other car is full, but it’s clear that if there is any trouble of any kind, the human will be blamed in order to protect the train and the rest of the passengers. So the train’s personnel try to keep regular humans from spending much time with the Others in a confined space.

Fortunately, John Wolfgard spoke up for me, telling the conductor that we were traveling as a group to Bennett.

It was a long ride, but we swapped seats often to talk and get to know one another. We’d all seen the pictures of the dead Wolfgard piled into mounds after the attacks by the Humans First and Last movement. Even the Simple Life folk had seen a few of the pictures. And most of us had seen pictures of the mounds of humans who had been destroyed by the Others in retaliation. It would have been easier for all of us if we could believe everyone in Bennett had participated in killing the Wolves. But the innocent had been killed too, and what had killed them was out there, in the dark, waiting for us to make a mistake.

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