Page 70 of Wild Embers
Unknown: I left you a present at Riverbend Trailer Park.
Unknown: Missing anyone? Have you done a head count lately?
Me: Don’t you dare touch my mother.
I get an automated message in return, letting me know that my text can’t be delivered.
He blocked me again.
Pressing the gas pedal to the floor, the engine revs as I speed through a quiet Evergreen Falls. Thankfully, most of the town is at home and asleep. Weaving in and out of traffic right now would be a pain.
What am I going to find when I get to the trailer park? Another fire?
I can’t let myself drown in all the what-ifs, but it’s hard not to wonder.
Get there first, then worry about what to do.
I’m not even a quarter mile away when I see the flames up ahead. My heart just about stops in my chest, and my stomach contracts into a tight ball.
“No,” I whisper as my throat threatens to close up.
Just getting to the entrance feels like I’m trying to run through knee-deep mud. It’s like I can’t get there fast enough.
When I finally pull in, I find that the flames aren’t coming from Mama’s trailer, but they’re in front of it. The fire could easily spread.
I stop and park my car a few trailers back. Jumping out, I run to Mama’s trailer and pound on her door.
“Mama! Are you in there?” I try opening the door, but it’s locked. “Mama!”
When she still doesn’t come out, I turn to the fire, finding that someone is in there hanging on a cross like a scarecrow.
And they’re not moving.
After this, I’ll never be able to get the smell of burning flesh out of my nose. I hold in a gag as nausea rolls through my stomach.
Pushing past my discomfort, I move to a pile of snow so I can try to put out the fire like last time, but I stop myself and pull my phone out of my pocket.
I don’t need Walker even more pissed at me than he already is, so I start to dial 911. But as soon as I press call, red and blue lights almost blind me. I squint, but still try to see who it is.
Before I can make out the shadowed shapes behind the emergency lights, a voice barks my name.
“Blake!”
Shit.
I would recognize that voice anywhere.
“Walk, I was just calling you.” I motion my hands in a calming gesture.
“You’re under arrest.” He grabs me by the shoulder and spins me around. Cold metal locks around my wrists in less than a second.
“Not this again,” I complain.
Walker doesn’t bother to explain. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be?—”
I groan, cutting him off. “Save your breath. I know the spiel.”
The door to Mama’s trailer flies open. Mama, wrapped in a robe, stomps out, yelling and screaming. “What the hell is going on out here?” Her jaw drops as she waves her arms. “Did you do this?” She directs at me.
