Justin Cronin - The Twelve

“Aha,” said Michael.

With impressive nonchalance, Hollis hauled the man to his feet by his collar. The woman was shrieking profanities, jabbing a finger at the two of them— Kill this fucker! I don’t have to put up with this shit! Do you hear me? You’re fucking dead, you asshole! —as Hollis half-shoved, half-levitated him toward the exit.

“That’s our cue,” Peter said.

At a quickstep they made their way for the door, Lore coming up behind them as they exited the hut. The corporal, crying desperate apologies, was simultaneously trying to pull up his pants and scamper away. If Hollis was moved by the man’s appeals, he gave no sign. While the two guards looked on, laughing uproariously, Hollis hoisted the corporal by the waistband and propelled him farther down the alley. As he pulled the man upright again, Peter called his name.

“Hollis!”

For a perplexing instant the man seemed not to recognize them. Then he made a small sound of surprise. “Peter. Hola .”

The corporal was still squirming in his grip. “Lieutenant, for God’s sake do something! This monster’s trying to kill me!”

Peter looked at his friend. “Are you?”

The big man shrugged drolly. “I suppose, since he’s one of yours, I could let it go this one time.”

“Exactly! You could let me go and I’ll never come back, I swear it!”

Peter directed his attention to the terrified soldier, whose name, he recalled, was Udall. “Corporal. Where are you supposed to be? Don’t bullshit me.”

“West Barracks, sir.”

“Then get there, soldier.”

“Thank you, sir! You won’t regret it!”

“I already do. Now get out of my sight.”

He scampered away, holding up his pants.

“I wasn’t going to really hurt him,” Hollis said. “Just put a scare into him.”

“What did he do?”

“Tried to kiss her. That’s not allowed.”

The offense seemed minor. Given all Peter had seen, it didn’t seem like an offense at all. “Really?”

“Those are the rules. Pretty much anything goes except for that. It’s mostly up to the women.” He glanced past Peter. “Michael, it’s good to see you. It’s been a while. You’re looking well.”

“Same here. This is Lore.”

Hollis smiled in her direction. “Oh, I know who you are. It’s nice to finally have a proper introduction, though. How were the cards tonight?”

“Not too bad,” Lore replied. “The plant at table three is a real chump. I was just getting started.”

The man’s expression hardened a discernible notch. “Don’t judge me for this, Peter. That’s all I’m asking. Things work here in a certain way, that’s all.”

“You have my word. We all know …” He searched for the words. “Well. What you went through.”

A moment passed. Hollis cleared his throat. “So, I’m thinking this isn’t a social call.”

Peter glanced over his shoulder at the two doormen, who were making no effort to conceal their eavesdropping.

“Is there someplace we could talk?”

Hollis met them two hours later at his house, a tarpaper shack on the western edge of H-town. Though the outside was anonymously decrepit, the interior possessed a surprising homeyness, with curtains on the windows and sprigs of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling beams. Hollis lit the stove and put on a pan of water for tea while the others waited at the small table.

“I make it with lemon balm,” Hollis remarked as he placed four steaming mugs on the table. “Grow it myself in a little patch out back.”

Peter explained what had happened on the Oil Road and the things Apgar had told him. Hollis listened thoughtfully, stroking his beard between sips.

“So can you take us to him?” Peter asked.

“That’s not the issue. Tifty’s no one you want to mix yourself up with—your CO’s right about that. I can vouch for you, but those guys are nobody to fool with. My say-so will only go so far. Military isn’t exactly welcome.”

“I don’t see a lot of options. If my hunch is right, he may be able to tell us where Amy and Greer went. All of this is connected. That’s what Apgar was telling me.”

“Sounds a bit thin.”

“Maybe. But if Apgar’s right, the same people might be responsible for what happened at Roswell, too.” Peter hated to press, but the next question needed to be asked. “What do you remember?”

A look of sudden pain swept Hollis’s face. “Peter, there’s no use in this, okay? I didn’t see anything. I just grabbed Caleb and ran. Maybe I should have done things differently. Believe me, I’ve thought about it. But with the baby …”

“No one’s saying different.”

“Then leave it alone. Please. All I know is that once the gates were open, they just poured in.”

Peter glanced at Michael. Here was something they hadn’t known, a new piece of the puzzle.

“Why were the gates open?”

“I don’t think anyone ever figured that out,” said Hollis. “Whoever gave the order, they must have died in the attack. And I’ve never heard anything about some woman. If she was there, I didn’t see her. Or these trucks of yours.” He took a heavy breath. “The fact is, Sara’s gone. If I allowed myself to think different for one second, I’d go crazy. I’m sorry to say it, believe me. I won’t pretend I’ve made my peace with it. But the best thing to do is accept reality. You too, Michael.”

“She was my sister.”

“And she was going to be my wife.” Hollis looked at Michael’s shocked face. “You didn’t know that, did you?”

“Flyers, Hollis. No, I didn’t.”

“We were going to tell you when you got to Kerrville. She wanted to wait for you. I’m sorry, Circuit.”

No one seemed to know what to say next. As the silence stretched, Peter looked around the room. For the first time he understood what he was seeing. This little shack, with its stove and herbs and snug feeling of home—Hollis had made the house that he and Sara would have had together.

“That’s all I’ve got,” said Hollis. “That will have to satisfy you.”

“I can’t accept it. Look at this place. It’s like you’re waiting for her to come home.”

Hollis’s grip visibly tightened on his mug. “Let it go, cuz.”

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe Sara’s dead. But what if she’s still out there?”

“Then she was taken up. I’m asking you nicely. If our friendship means anything to you, don’t make me think about this.”

“I have to. We all loved her, too, Hollis. We were a family, her family.”

Hollis rose and returned his mug to the sink.

“Just take us to Tifty. That’s all I’m asking.”

Hollis spoke with his back to them. “He’s not what you think. I owe that man.”

“For what? A job in a brothel?”

His head was bowed, his hands clutching the edge of the sink, as if he’d taken a blow. “Jesus, Peter. You never change.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. You did what you had to. And you got Caleb out.”

“Caleb.” From Hollis, a heavy sigh. “How is he? I keep meaning to visit.”

“You should see for yourself. He owes you his life, and it’s a good one.”

Hollis turned to face them again. The tide had turned; Peter could see it in the man’s eyes. A small flame of hope had been lit.

“What about you, Michael? I know what Peter thinks.”

“Those were my friends that got killed. If there’s payback, I want it. And if there’s a chance my sister’s alive, I’m not going to just do nothing.”

“It’s a big continent.”

“It always was. Never bothered me any.”

Hollis looked at Lore. “So what’s your opinion?”

The woman startled a little. “What are you asking me for? I’m just along for the ride here.”