Forever was a punishment, and this death would be held close to his chest until it was staked to the bottom of the deepest ocean.
I amas much to blame as Whitton.
Decker’s voice softened. “Come, preacher. Let’s save the rest of the town while we still can.”
They left Cricket behind, cooling in the root cellar.
Safine raised a blank face from Sister Inez’s habit when the trapdoor rattled shut behind them.
Decker took the mop, dragging it across the floor and under the table. The rags turned red and stiff, and he splashed more water across the floor. “We need to take the bridge,” he said.
Laurie cut him a sharp look.
“Let them keep their town, and we will keep ours until we know what’s going on.” The bridge was two years away from falling apart anyways; a few well-placed explosives and they wouldn’t have to worry about Whitton or the rest of the town folks for a few days—enough time to form a plan.
“We’ll get dynamite from the mercantile,” Decker continued, “and the rest of you get back—”
“I’ll do it.”
Three heads swiveled towards Laurie. He shifted in place, rubbing his thumb over the beads of his rosary. “I can take care of the bridge. Decker, you’ll be more use at the chapel.”
“Who put you in charge?” Safine’s low voice scraped through the room like a bullet in the chamber. “Come to town, think you can start runnin’ shit. Everything went to hell when you showedup—”
“Safi,” he murmured.
“—and now Decker’s mopping up Cricket.”
Laurie blanched, his rosary strangling his hand. “I didn’t have anything to do with this.”
“Awful big coincidence,” she sneered.
Sister Inez was silent, taking a rag to the table.
Decker considered her accusation. Things unmistakably changed when Laurie arrived. His arrival was a coincidence, wasn’t it? Laurie was like a train barreling into the station, shards of their life splintered into a thousand pieces, but none of this was his fault.
The mop splashed firmly onto the floor. “Laurie’s a part of the town now. We’ll figure this out together,” Decker said.
“Together like how we were when Cricket got shot?”
“I didn’t know he was going to act a fool and come back.”
“Where were you, huh? I seen you hunt, seen you kill. You could’ve done more.”
“Safine,” Decker said sharply. This wasn’t helping anyone. This wouldn’t bring Cricket back, no matter who she blamed. His jaw tightened, and he glanced towards the bridge where people still milled at the Ridgewater side. They were running out of time. “There was a crowd of witnesses. I couldn’t jeopardize us.”
“You jeopardized Cricket. And they’re still gonna come after us, but he’s gone. You should be gone instead,” Safine shot at Laurie. “Go back East and take your bad fucking luck with you.”
Laurie’s shoulders curved in, and he glanced at Decker. When he said nothing, he slipped the rosary in his pocket. “I’ll find the dynamite,” he said, voice small.
Water sloshed onto the boards as Decker jammed the mop back into the bucket. Red puddled to the edge of Safine’s white boots.
At the chapel, Decker returned to the steady,callousmachine by Sister Inez’s side. Water, blankets, food, death, repeat.
The chapel windows rattled from the blast.
Willa stirred, eyes bleary. Clearing.
Laurie joined him, ruffling splinters from his hair. “Everyone looked and no one cared,” he said.
The Blessing wavered, regained strength, returned. But for how long? How many more of them would be nailed into pine boxes before this was over?
Decker kept vigil throughout the night, long after the girls curled into a corner and Laurie stretched out in a pew, softly snoring.
Cricket should be a bottle deep by now, cracking a joke about how liquor cleaned him from the inside out, rolling a small mountain of cigarettes for anybody who needed a smoke.
The stained glass depiction of Christ bent under the weight of the cross watched over them. In death, Decker hoped Cricket had finally found his peace.
