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“Does it matter?”
“It, um, might. The people who own him could come looking for him.”
“People? You mean the Rat Catchers, don’t you? He belonged to them, didn’t he?”
Instead of answering, Karen said, “You should turn him loose. He’ll find his way back and no one will be mad at you for taking him in.”
“I think the Rat Catchers are already mad at me.”
Karen said nothing.
“Karen,” said Gutsy evenly, “let me tell you what I think, okay? I think the Rat Catchers are soldiers working for some secret lab hidden outside town. I think the lab is doing medical experiments. I think those people made my mother sick. I think that’s why Mama died.”
Karen shook her head, but it was clear that it was more a matter of not wanting to have this conversation than denying what Gutsy was saying. The woman did not turn and run away, though. There was that.
“The other night,” continued Gutsy, “when the riders came into town, that wasn’t the first time, was it? They were here the night before, too.”
“No . . . ,” said Karen hoarsely. “You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do. And you know what they did that first time? They brought Mama home.”
Karen’s face, already pale, turned the color of ash. She backed a half step away and put her hand over her mouth.
“I took Mama back to Hope Cemetery and buried her again,” said Gutsy. “Do you know that? Can you imagine how that felt?”
Karen said nothing, but she kept shaking her head.
“Then two nights ago the Rat Catchers brought Mama back and put her in my bedroom,” said Gutsy, and she had to fight to keep from snarling. “In my bedroom. I had to fight my own mother, Karen. I almost died.”
“You didn’t report anything like that. . . .”
“Of course I didn’t,” snapped Gutsy. “Your night guards didn’t stop them the first time and they got hurt the second time. What good would telling you anything do?”
“I could have helped.”
“Really? Against the Rat Catchers? You almost fainted when I said that name.”
“Gabriella, please . . .”
“My name is Gutsy,” she snapped. “Gabriella was the little girl you used to babysit. She’s gone now. It’s just me. Gutsy Gomez.” She took a step closer. “I went out to the cemetery again yesterday to bury Mama, and those Rat Catchers had dug up nearly everyone who died in the last few months. The Santiagos, the Cantus . . .” She rattled off a list of names. “All of them dug up and their bodies stolen. If I’d buried Mama again, they would have taken her body too.”
“What did you do with . . . ?”
“It doesn’t matter what I did,” said Gutsy viciously. “I took care of my own. She’s safe and they’ll never find her. Besides, don’t change the subject. You’re supposed to be the head of the guards, which means everyone in town is your own. Why aren’t you taking care of us?”
Karen Peak said nothing. Her face was pale but her throat was bright red, and small red poppies seemed to bloom on her cheeks. “You don’t understand,” she said weakly.
“You’re right. I don’t. That’s why I’m talking with you, Karen. I’m giving you a chance. I want to understand. I need to. So, why don’t you help me?”
“Help you? Help you? You want me to help you? Fine,” said Karen angrily, “then listen to me. Go home. Never mention this again. Not to me or anyone. Don’t tell your friends. Don’t speak of it. Put it out of your mind.”
“You really think I could do that?”
“You have to.”
“I can’t and I won’t,” insisted Gutsy. “Want to know why? Because I think that whatever happened to Mama has happened to a lot of people. And I think it’s going to go on happening unless someone stops it.”
“You can’t stop it.”
