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“Damien,” I whisper in fear.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
“You have to admit,” I say when we get within half a mile of Graveyard’s location. “The trackers were a good idea.”
Pocus rolls his eyes. We park a quarter-mile away, not sure what we’ll be walking into. The trackers give me a location, but not the situation. Still, I’m glad the men voluntarily started wearing trackers three years ago. It’s my proudest moment as Prez to date.
“If Damien had a tracker, you could’ve seen he was watching my house,” he grumbles as we pick our way through tall grass.
“Probationary members don’t get them,” I remind him. “And we promised not to talk about him anymore.”
Pocus shrugs and focuses on the tracker. We look around, but there isn’t much to see. This location is as remote as the shack. It’s covered in overgrown plants and tall trees. Whoever this guy is, he doesn’t want to be found.
“Just one more time,” Pocus says, turning to me. “Then I promise I’ll never bring it up again. You should have ended the deal the second Hex broke his arm.”
I groan in frustration. When Pocus and I decided to bury the hatchet, we promised to let this issue lie. It was the best decision for our friendship. But, here he is, bringing it up again.
We stop abruptly when we hear a rustling in the trees. We crouch in the grass but quickly right ourselves when we see Bones and Gator walking toward us.
“Them trackers was a good idea, Prez,” Gator says in his thick Cajun accent. “I found you just fine.”
I shoot Pocus a look and he rolls his eyes in frustration.
“Thank you, Gator,” I say humbly. “With a bunch like ours, they’re a necessity, eh? How many of us have gone missing at some point over the last decade?”
We stand there for a second remembering the various kidnappings we’ve all endured. This is Graveyard’s first time, though. It’s like a badge of honor for him. He gets to be part of that particular club now, though I doubt it was ever a goal of his.
“Listen, men. We have no idea what we’re about to walk into. This guy could be heavily armed. Graveyard was shot at with a machine gun. I can’t guarantee there isn’t one here.”
Gator and Bones nod. Pocus sighs dramatically. He’s chomping at the bit to get this guy.
“Let’s keep a level head,” I say, looking at him seriously. “This might be another trap, and we can’t lose our cool. Whatever we find, I need you to respect my leadership. If I say fall back, you need to fall back.”
Bones and Gator nod, ever the loyal soldiers. Pocus fidgets, looking at his shoes.
“Agreed?” I ask him,
“Agreed,” he says, nodding. “Let’s go get Charlie.”
The four of us pick our way through the grass until we see a trailer a few yards ahead. Nothing else is around here, only the lone trailer standing out against the trees. It looks as broken down as the shack, but it’s larger. Screens are bent in half and falling off the windows. The entire place is covered in a sheen of rust.
“Graveyard better be alive in there,” Pocus grumbles quietly. “Or I’m going to burn the whole fucking place to the ground.”
“It won’t take much,” I quip back.
We crouch low and approach the trailer as quietly as possible. No one is shooting at us yet, so that’s a good sign. I motion for Gator to go to one end of the trailer and Bones to cover the other. If there is a shootout, they’ll cover me.
Pocus and I approach the middle of the trailer. He quietly climbs onto a tree stump. He peers inside one of the windows for a long while, and I assume he doesn’t see anything. Then I hear a door slam. Pocus ducks down fast, grabbing me and pulling me against the trailer so we can’t be seen if someone looks out.
“You’re fucking kidding me,” he whispers to himself. I look at him in annoyance.
“What did you see?” I ask, but he only glares at me and shakes his head. “You better see for yourself.”
I carefully climb onto the stump and raise myself to see in the window. I stay as low as possible, but the man has his back to me. I can only see Meredith’s face. I’m shocked to see her, and I briefly wonder if that’s what Pocus is grumbling about. Is she behind all of this? Did she fool us all from the beginning?
No, she looks terrified. Whoever took Charlie and Graveyard took her as well. She’s just as much a victim of this as they are. Tears fall from her eyes and her face is pale. She’s listening to the man talk, nodding along. When he turns suddenly, I catch a glimpse of his face.
“No fucking way,” I whisper angrily, crouching down and looking at Pocus. “There’s no fucking way!”
