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thirty-four
It was nearly impossible to see at 13 White Fern Road at midnight. There were no streetlights, and porch lights were few and far between. On top of that, Rhett had scoped the place and found a way to go at the barn from the back, so that headlights wouldn’t be spotted.
“I’ve got the meat.” Constance held up the baggie of raw steak she’d brought to feed the poor soul that had been chained out front each time she’d come by.
With Rhett’s Jeep nestled in the trees, they skirted their way out to the overgrown farmland and picked their way through the dark, one small flashlight trained on the ground. The night sky was full of the sound of tree frogs, the chirping of the Virginia peepers so loud they needn’t have worried about being heard. You could smell the barn before you could see it, the rotting timbers and rusted nails thick on the humid air. Rhett’s movements were easy, calculated, thorough—suggesting he was definitely in his element on a stealth mission.
“No dog,” Rhett whispered, shining his light over the rustic structure. “He’s either inside or out front.”
“Or dead.”
“No negative thoughts,” Rhett ordered.
“Maybe he’s around the other side.” Constance’s voice was hopeful. Her stomach was tight, but she otherwise felt cool and controlled, with none of the jitters or shakes she thought she’d get from trespassing.
“We’ll find out in a second.”
They peeked their heads around to the front of the barn. Constance spied the metal chain, connected to a stake in the ground. The chain lay in the grass and wound around to the other side of the barn. She lifted it and followed the trail, until she came to a black lump that she nearly tripped over.
Rhett squatted down next to it, but the black lump didn’t move. For a second, Constance thought it was too late. Her throat tightened up and shrunk, making it hard to breathe. Rhett waved a hand near the lump.
Slowly, a head raised. Then it sank back down.
Rhett ran his pencil flashlight over the form. The yellow beam illuminated an ugly sight of dull, black pelt stretched over visible ribs and skin with open sores, ticks and infection.
“He’s worse,” Constance gasped. “Way worse than when I spied him months ago.” Bile rose up the back of her throat. How did Sunny do this on a regular basis? New respect filled her heart for her baby sister, even though it was simultaneously breaking for the poor creature on the ground.
Rhett said nothing, his lips pressed tight, the residual light from the flashlight making his angry face look ghostly.
A cracking sound came in the distance. “Who’s out there?” An older woman’s voice barked out from the vicinity of the house. A screen door slammed shut. The sound of a weapon being cocked followed.
Rhett put a finger to his lips, killed the light and melted into the dark. A second later, Constance heard a long, slow creak. “Psst!”
Constance fumbled by the meager light of the stars and moon until she bumped into Rhett’s back. He caught her by the arm and pulled her in front of him, into the barn. Once he’d pulled the door closed he flicked on his flashlight.
“We can’t leave him out there.” Constance’s whisper was full of panic, her fear for herself overridden by her fear of what the old woman might do to the dog.
“We won’t. We just need to bide our time. Trust me.”
The yellow beam of the flashlight revealed the barn in circles of narrow, diffused light, but each dark corner was the same as the next: empty nooks of rotting wood, moldering hay, rusted chains and farm equipment. There was a wheelbarrow with no wheels, an assortment of shovels, picks and scythes, buckets, broken lanterns and even discarded horseshoes.
“I said—” the woman’s voice was getting closer to the barn “—who’s out here? I’m armed! And trust me, I’m not afraid to use it!”
“Wait.” Rhett’s light, aimed at the ground, froze. He went back a few inches. “What’s that?”
Constance watched the light travel upward, until she recognized what she was looking at: a long, frayed, twisted piece of hemp. “A rope.”
“It leads to a loft.” Rhett looked down at her. “Looks like all your rope-climb training wasn’t in vain.”
“Holy shit.”
“Let me go first. At the top, I’ll shine the light down. Then I’ll be able to pull you in.” The light clicked off, and only the sounds of Rhett scaling the rope followed. Within twenty seconds the light clicked back on. “Come on,” Rhett said from the ledge inside the loft.
Constance walked over and tested the integrity of the knot. It felt secure. She remembered back to the first time she’d seen the people at Semper Fit doing rope climbs and the thought that had crossed her mind:When in real life will I ever need to climb a rope?She hissed a laugh, then drew a deep breath and jumped onto the rope.
“Hook your feet,” Rhett instructed, just like they were at the gym.
Constance flailed at first, but then grasped the hemp with her feet and stood up. She fumbled in the dark but eventually got herself to the top. There, Rhett’s hand grasped her forearm, then her waist as he pulled her onto the ledge. They spilled on the floor.
