Whiskey steps out of the dark.“What about Mama Crowley?Thought they blamed the disappearances on that devil’s dead wife.”
Oaks wipes his mouth, leaning forward.“Not anymore.Not since the cold case got attention, ran in the Herald Leader.”
“So, they’re blaming a monster instead of a ghost?”Whiskey asks.
Oak nods.“But listen.They say this thing’s tall as hell, bends backward in the joints, hops building to building.Got wings, or somethin’ like wings.Claws like bones.And it don’t just take the girls.It judges ’em.”
Kernel voice drops to a creepy whisper.“Leaps outta the dark, draggin’ ’em down into tunnels under the river.”
Rye deadpans, “Yeah?And it write ’em up a ticket too?‘Sorry darlin’, you ugly and you failed Purity 101?’”
More laughter.But I’m not laughing.Because the way Oaks described it?The way Crowbar mimicked those grotesque, backward joints?The idea of tunnels?
I know damn well Becki has heard these stories since she was old enough to braid her hair.I heard them too.Hell, I still have nightmares.
“Some say it’s a gargoyle come to life,” I say, thinking no one may hear me.
Oaks grins at me, shoving my shoulder.“You believe any of this, Romeo?”
“Royal,” Rye corrects.“Not Romeo.”
Oaks waves him off.“Whatever.Royal, you scared of the big bad Leaper?”
I stare into the fire a long moment.The flames twist.Spit.Curl like something alive.
“It’s Louisville,” I say simply.
The boys go quiet.
Crowbar scratches his stubble.“Meaning what?”
“Meaning weird shit happens there,” I say.“Bad shit.Girls go missing.Bodies wash up in the river.People blame cults, drugs, gangs…”
“And demons?”Oaks smirks.
“Sometimes,” I say.“The stories ain’t all stories.The girls are really missing, and they end up dead.”
There’s a shift around the fire.
Subtle.
Uncomfortable.
Rye eyes me.“You been thinkin’ ’bout Crowley’s operation a lot?”
“I’m thinkin’,” I say, kicking a stray beer can into the dark.“That Pearly Gates hides a lot of things behind God.Behind scary stories.More than hellfire and brimstone.”
Oaks whistles.“Ain’t that the damn truth.”
Kernel nudges Crowbar.“Think we oughta get holy?Bring Bibles and holy water next time we ride through Louisville?”
Crowbar grins with all five of his teeth.“Hell no.Holy water burns my skin.”
They crack up again.
But Oaks watches me longer than the others.
“What’re you really sayin’, Royal?”he asks.“You actually believe some demon is takin’ girls”
