Kealan Burke - Kin

Papa watched him carefully, then turned to Aaron, who stood solemnly by his side. “Go down. I want you to get all our weapons together. Feed your brothers, and see to Luke. Clean him up. We’ll need him. Then send Joshua up here to keep watch. Before it’s dark, I want you all ready and waitin’ for ’em to come.”

“How do you know they’re comin’, Papa?”

He thought about this for a moment, then ruffled the boy’s hair. “God sent an angel to whisper in my ear while I was sleepin’.”

“How many do you think will come?”

“Enough. Now you best get movin’ while the light’s with us.”

Aaron nodded, and set off down the mountain, herding the twins ahead of him. Papa waited until they were gone, then walked over to stand beside Krall.

“I know you’re hurtin’,” he told the big man. “And that’s only right. But if you don’t end up seein’ where all this is supposed to lead you, all that pain’s for nothin’.”

Krall continued to stare down at the ground. His lips moved slightly, but the words were lost to the wind, if indeed he was making any sound at all.

Papa studied him for a few moments, then clamped a hand on his shoulder. “The coyotes are comin’,” he said. “Just like Momma knew they would. They took her from you, and I’m sure she’d be proud to know you joined us in wipin’ them off the earth.”

Without another word, he turned his back and left Krall to his mourning. It would pass, Papa knew. And when it did, it would leave only the rage.

This at least, they could use.

“Get out of the car.”

Finch sighed, and rolled up the window. Stubbing out his cigarette, he was not entirely surprised when his door opened without him touching it. He would not have been any more surprised if Kara had reached in and slapped him. But she didn’t. Instead, she held the door and waited for him to step out into the rain before slamming it shut and poking a finger in his chest.

“What did I tell you? What did I say ? Were you listening?”

He glanced back over his shoulder to her car, where inside, he saw the ghostly shape of Claire watching from behind the reflected sky. He turned back to Kara.

“I told her she couldn’t come. And she isn’t. At least, not with me.”

Kara’s eyes blazed. “That’s not enough.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to undo what’s already done. She can’t deal with this kind of shit. Now she thinks there’s some kind of merit to your suicide mission. Thinks maybe if she tags along it’ll help her make peace with being the only one to get out alive. She’s vulnerable, and looking for somewhere to put the anger.”

“So am I.”

“Oh fuck you,” Kara said, and this time he knew she was going to hit him. But he didn’t move, and the strike didn’t come. Inside she turned, cursed under her breath and walked a few steps, then turned.

“This is typical you.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Say nothing. Go home. Check yourself into a mental hospital. Do something other than this.”

“I can’t.”

She stepped close again, the fury making her face ugly. “No, you can’t, can you, and the last thing you’d ever consider would be getting help. It’s far easier for you to fuck up everybody else’s lives.”

Finch folded his arms. “Look, I’m sorry. I told you I wasn’t letting this go. I tried to talk some sense into Claire but—”

“Talk sense into Claire?” Kara raged. “How could that happen when you don’t have any sense yourself? Think your age and experience makes you wiser? Sorry, Finch, but you’re still a kid, a goddamn brat with a temper and everybody has to pay for it but you. Finch the Almighty versus the World.”

That annoyed him, and this time she couldn’t hang up on him before he got to defend himself. “Hey, I’ve already paid for it, all right?” he countered. “I lost my brother. You got Claire back, so don’t tell me what I should or shouldn’t do, or what’s wrong with the way that I feel because you haven’t a fucking clue.”

She smiled bitterly. “Danny. I know you loved him, Finch, but if it weren’t Danny, it would be some other cause. Someone or something needs to be destroyed because God forbid you should look in instead of out for a change. Well,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Do what you have to do, I guess. But sooner or later you’re going to run out of mirrors to shoot at. Then what will you do?”

“Wow…watching Oprah again, are we?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know who you are, Finch. Not sure I ever did. But I recognize this part of you, and I should. It’s why I left you. That was something else you destroyed.”

“This isn’t about me, Kara.”

“Really? You sure about that?”

“Yeah.”

She nodded slowly, a grim smile on her lips. “I’m sure you believe it too.” She stepped past him, headed for her car. “Stay the hell away from Claire,” she said without looking back. “Or I’ll call the cops. And don’t think I won’t if it means protecting her from you.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but the glare she threw him before getting into the car dissuaded him, leaving him standing alone on the street. Only then did he find his voice.

“I’m not the bad guy,” he said, and wondered who he was trying to convince.

After a moment, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Beau’s number. “Hey,” he said, when Beau answered. “We’re leaving.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

“Why?”

“I just spoke to Kara.”

“And?”

“And I don’t trust her not to put the kibosh on this whole gig just to piss me off.”

“Savin’ your life would piss you off?”

“You going to be ready to go, or what?”

“Give me an hour, okay? I’m standin’ here with my uncle Leroy. Negotiatin’ the acquisition of the tools we’ll need.”

“Remember, John Kaplan’s footing the bill so don’t feel obliged to be frugal.”

“Got it.”

“I’ll pick you up at your place in an hour.”

They were in the park.

Pete didn’t know what had gone wrong, or when, but the world in which he moved now was not one he recognized, or liked very much. It seemed everyone he loved had died, or was hurt, or walking through the same nightmare as he was, as if mere contact with him was enough to drag them into the dark. He didn’t want that for Louise, but it was already too late. In the time it had taken her to take care of her “private matter” at the pawnshop, it seemed she’d grown older. She looked sick, tired and old, and he knew it was his fault.

“You drive real good,” she said now, easing herself down onto the park bench beside him. “I’ve seen it, I know. Sometimes I think your daddy taught you to drive before he taught you to walk.”

The mention of his father pained him, and it seemed from her feeble smile that it pained her too. Pete wished she wouldn’t mention his Pa. He wished she wouldn’t mention anything but getting to the girl, so he could be sure what was coming next. So there was a set plan. Because something about her now didn’t sit right with him. It made him uneasy, because he couldn’t tell what it was. Had she called the police on him, or changed her mind about taking him to see the girl? She must have. Why else would she be talking about him driving?

“You can get yourself a car,” she said. “In that lot over there. I know the guy runs it. But I wanted to talk to you first.”

“What’s to talk about?” he asked. “We should just go before the police find us. If they do, I ain’t never gettin’ to the girl, and those folks who hurt my Pa’ll get away.”