“What do you suggest?”asked Louis.
Sadlier reached into his pack and withdrew a small bottle of white gas, the liquid fuel used in camping.It would burn hot andclean.
“The ground is damp,” said Sadlier, “and there’s no wind.I reckon we’ll be okay, but if it shows signs of spreading, I have an Element fire extinguisher in my pack.”
“Best to be prepared, right?”I said.
“I don’t believe anyone could have been prepared for what I just witnessed,” said Sadlier.
He let Louis spray the white gas inside the tree before handing him a box of InstaFire matches.Louis struck one, tossed it, and retreated fast as the fuel ignited.We stayed to watch the tree burn long enough for what was inside to be rendered unidentifiable.Sadlier stood by with the Element, which resembled a foot-long baton, but the blaze only licked at the exterior wet bark, and finally the flames began to die down.Sadlier smothered what remained of them with the extinguisher and we left the clearing, left it to the weeping of a child.
Chapter 111
Sabine Drew and Tim Sadlier walked behind the rest, Sadlier deliberately slowing so they would be out of earshot.
“Whatever it is,” said Sabine, “say it.”
“What kind of men are they?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”
Sabine took his hand and kissed it.
“At least one of them,” she said, “may not be a man at all.”
From the woods, the child watched them go.She did not recall any longer the manner of her passing, only the pain of it, and her hatred was pure and uncorrupted because she had died so young.
A voice spoke from beside her.She had not heard the woman approach.This surprised the child, who heard everything.The woman wore a summer dress and her face was a skinless mask of red.
you’ve been out here for too long, said the woman.i’ve come to take you away
where am i going?asked the child.
to the sea
and after?
you’ll forget
i’d like that
The child now saw another woman standing nearby, older, with a portion of her skull neatly excised.
who is she?
she is your grandmother
The child gazed at the woman with the ruined skull but madeno move toward her, and the grandmother stared blankly ahead, so that each might have been a stranger to the other.
and her?asked the child.who is she?
By the smoldering sycamore stood a girl, no older than the child.Her face, too, was bloodily despoiled.She was peeking through the hole in the tree at what remained of the angel.
she is my daughter, said the woman.but she’s dangerous
dangerous like me?
