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were, they did not wear necklaces of grisly souvenirs or claim to know anything at all about any gang by that name.
The fires burned. Three houses in Happy Valley caught fire from drifting embers.
Dahlia counted her own dead. Of the Pack members who’d followed her to Happy Valley, there was nineteen dead. Jumper was one of them, though no one had seen him fall. The town girl, Bree, was dead, killed by a shot fired from the field. Eleven helpers were dead, too.
And more than two hundred Rovers.
The living dead in the front field were left to burn. Some of the forest burned, too. It was later discovered that the clearing where helpers had been left to starve had burned. Claudia escaped, though, and found her way back to town.
Joe Ledger, Rachael, and Baskerville came up to the back gate and knocked to be let it. It was Mr. Church who opened the door.
The two men stood looking at each other for a long, silent time. The people around them—Rachael, Dahlia, Neeko, Slow Dog, and many others—waited them out. None of them understood.
It was finally Joe Ledger who stepped forward and offered his hand. Church looked at it.
“I . . . um . . . never figured you for the hugging type, boss,” said Ledger, his voice thick with emotion.
“Times change, Captain,” said Church and he pulled Ledger into a fierce embrace. They stood there, hugging each other while Baskerville barked and wagged his tail.
When Ledger finally stepped back, he said, “How?”
But Church shook his head. “Stories for another time.” He paused. “But . . . Junie . . . ?”
Ledger shook his head. Dahlia swore that Church aged ten years in that moment, and for the first time he really did look old.
— 2 —
The Pack stayed in Happy Valley. So did most of the helpers. A few left, needing to look for friends or family from which they’d become separated because of the forced servitude. Church sent them on their way with supplies and bodyguards.
Rachael and Claudia lingered for a week, healing, grieving for Jason, and taking counsel from Ledger and Church. When the warrior woman finally left, there were tears in her eyes. She kissed Joe on both cheeks and hugged him for a long time. Then she left.
The adult residents of Happy Valley were not released from captivity quickly because Dahlia was afraid they would be murdered. And, in fact, two of the helpers were caught trying to steal automatic weapons to exact justice for the horrible crimes.
Dahlia asked Church what to do and he told her that she should make the decision. After days of deliberating, she decided to have a public hearing. The younger residents spoke for their families, but they did not make apologies. Some of the adults confessed and submitted themselves for any punishment offered.
Dahlia used a blind lottery to create a jury of twelve. The trial took days, and everyone who wanted to have a say was allowed to do so. Everyone. When it was over, the jury went into one of the houses to deliberate. It took them three days to come to a decision.
While Neeko counted out the votes, everyone sat in tense silence. Some people were crying. Helpers and residents. The verdict was given to Dahlia in a sealed envelope. People cried while they waited for her to read it. Residents, helpers, and even some members of the Pack. Dahlia held the sealed envelope and closed her eyes for a moment. Ledger stood beside her, his sword over his shoulder, a gun at his hip, and the big dog beside him. No one else was armed.
The trial was held in a small town hall used for concerts and plays. Dahlia stood looking at everyone.
“Okay,” she said and held up the envelope. “I have the verdict, but I want to say something first. I guess I need to make something clear, okay?”
No one spoke.
“I’m the judge. Mr. Church suggested it and you all voted on it. I’m the judge.”
No one spoke.
“That means that I get to decide on the punishment. The sentence. Whatever. I get to decide and you all have to accept it.”
In the front row of the seats reserved for the defendants, Margaret Van Sloane sat straight as a ramrod, but her eyes were haunted. She was deeply afraid. No one seemed willing to offer her comfort. A lot of people gave her looks of unfiltered hate.
Dahlia continued. “If the verdict is guilty, I can decide on what’s appropriate for punishment. I could have everyone on trial here locked away forever. I could have you shot. I could even take you out to the woods and tie you up like you did to all those people. I could do that, and I have enough people here to make sure that whatever I decide gets done.”
No one spoke.
“Same goes if the verdict is not guilty. I can impose all sorts of restrictions on you and make sure you work in the fields for the rest of your life. Even if the verdict says not guilty. I’m the judge and that means I guess I get to make the rules.”
