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“Great. I guess we dig, then.”
“We should start on the inside. I found some strange scratch marks.”
“Probably from the dog,” Dale says.
“Yeah, maybe. But the dog can obviously get in and out on his own, so why would he scratch?”
Dale cocks his head. “Maybe that wasn’t always the case.”
“Maybe. But I’m thinking the dog doesn’t actually live here. If he did, he wouldn’t shit where he sleeps. Obviously he can get in and out.”
“Good point.” This from Brock.
I turn and regard my cousin. “When did you get here?”
“A minute ago. So you found dog shit, huh?”
“Yeah. Let me show you guys the scratch marks. I guess that’s where we start.”
The three of us enter the building.
“Oh, man.” Brock pinches his nose. “That’s nasty.”
“I suppose I should have warned you.”
“That’s not just dog shit, man,” Brock says.
“No,” Dale says. “It’s decay. Damn… Do you smell it, Don?”
“Decay? Yeah.”
“No, I mean…”
“What?”
“Don’t you remember?”
“Remember what?”
“We’ve smelled this before.”
I inhale.
Decay, yes. Waste, yes. And…something else.
And I remember…
It was the day…
The day I first laid eyes on Talon Steel.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CALLIE
The tree is exactly the same as it was when we dug up the box several days ago. Rory and I each have a shovel, work gloves, and a flashlight. Rory also grabbed a camping lantern from the garage, and we set it up. It gives us pretty good light over the area.
“I don’t know what we’re looking for, Rory.”
