Syder slid another mint into his mouth and crunched on it slowly as he watched Ledger struggle. “You know, your dad never took any pleasure in what he did. It didn’tbotherhim, but he didn’t enjoy it either. He said it wasn’t necessary. But thiswillbe satisfying, Ledger. Everything that’s happened to me was your fault, and now you’re going to make it right.”
He turned and left, climbing the stairs up into the kitchen.
Ledger thrashed on the gurney and yanked at his restraints, screaming until his throat was raw and tasted like sin. Then the pills he’d been given started to kick in, wrapping the world in cotton wool. It sucked the energy out of Ledger until all he could do was lie there and pant raggedly, tears stinging the corners of his eyes before they trailed down into his ears.
He’dhadthe answer.
All he needed was a couple of hours.
This couldn’t be it. He couldn’t die like this.
He had to…
… had to do…
something.
…..
* * *
That hurt…
Ledger sluggishly registered that fact as he tried to drag himself back to consciousness. His brain felt like it was made of grubby, greasy wads of paper. Everything he tried to think slipped through the cracks.
There was a loud bang, and muddled, sluggish pain sank down through the heavy, unnatural weariness. Ledger groaned and opened his eyes. They were sticky and blurred. He tried to rub them, but his hands were… tied down.
The last dregs of drugged sleep gave up the ghost as Syder slapped Ledger again. Ledger snarled at him and clenched his fists against the restraints—not that it did any good.
“There you are,” Syder said. Instead of a slap, he gave Ledger’s stinging face a condescending pat. “I thought I’d killed you by accident. That wouldn’t have worked at all, would it.”
“I wish I’d choked on my tongue,” Ledger said.
Syder tutted at him. “Suicide’s a sin, you know,” he mocked. “Now, hold still. It won’t make any difference if you struggle, and it’ll just take me longer.”
He took a thin, carved knife from his pocket and showed it to Ledger. The light from the one dim bulb in the room reflected in the scarred old blade.
“Do you recognize it?” he asked, almost eagerly. “It’s the one your dad used. Do you know how much young flesh we sliced up with this? I don’t know if it matters for the ritual, but I snuck it out of evidence for… old times’ sake.”
He stuck the knife under Ledger’s T-shirt, the edge of it scraped over his stomach, and tore the shirt open from hem to collar. The usually muggy air of the basement felt cold against his exposed, flushed skin, and Ledger cringed every time Syder’s fingers touched him.
“Trust me,” Syder said, “I’m not enjoying this either.”
Ledger laughed at him. “Of course you are,” he said. “I think you always did. I thought Bell bribed you—made a problem disappear—to get you on the hook. But he didn’t have to, did he? You just wanted to see him kill teenagers. Maybe that’s why killing your kid didn’t work, or did that get you off too?”
Syder’s face twisted in rage at the accusation. He pushed the point of the knife against Ledger’s Adam’s apple and held it there. Ledger could feel his skin split as he swallowed.
“You keep your mouth off him,” Syder said. “I didn’t want to do that. I wouldn’t havehadto do that if it wasn’t for you.”
Upstairs a door banged. They both stopped and looked at the open hatch. Ledger sucked in a breath to yell, but before he could get a sound out, Syder slapped a hand over his mouth. He pressed down until Ledger gagged.
“Shut up,” Syder whispered harshly. “I’ll kill them too.”
Ledger wasn’t sure he was a good enough person to care about that. It didn’t matter since he couldn’t do more than groan pointlessly against Syder's hand, then groan more urgently when he saw the threads of smoke seeping through the floorboards.
Finally, Syder noticed Ledger’s bulging eyes and looked up. His face fell into a lax, frustrated expression. The crackle of the fire had grown louder, and flickers of red glowed on the wood.
Bell’s house was on fire.
