Wings to the Kingdom (Eden Moore 2)

They were.

As a compromise between splitting up and sticking together, we opted to stay together at least at first; and if we had no luck within thirty minutes, we’d spread out. So, leaving the car with the hazard lights blinking, we set off along the road onto the peninsula of Moccasin Bend.

We stuck to the paved strip at first, because the way onto the main body is narrow and we didn’t have much choice. But then we were out in the open. Above us, the sky was a darkening blue, and only a few clouds fluttered past the sun for shade. Around us were strips of open grass that terminated sharply into the tree line.

“We can’t hang out here, where everyone can see us. You can bet Green Eyes isn’t,” Dana said. “Where did you see him last, Eden? Take us to where you ran into him. We can start there. ”

“Sure. If I can find it. ”

“How hard could it be?” Benny asked, keeping pace with us even as he lugged the bulk of the baggage.

“I don’t know. Let’s see—it was the middle of the night, there weren’t any lights, and I was distracted and shaken from my recent automobile accident. What do I look like to you, a homing pigeon?”

I led them at a diagonal angle, across the street and towards the far side of the woods. Wherever the wreck had taken place, I knew that it was, at least, on that side of the road. Our feet made simultaneous swishes in the grass, kicking up rocks and sticks as we went. None of us were being too quiet—partly because we didn’t need to, and partly because there was no one to hear us anyway. Though the occasional car passed us on the way out to the hospital, we could hardly see the facilities off in the distance, and there were no other hikers or explorers that we saw.

Long tree shadows stretched themselves out, reaching for us with the coming darkness. Lookout Mountain cast its pall over our group as well, since we were sitting at its foot.

“Technically, we have another hour at least before sunset,” Dana observed, but her analysis didn’t prevent the Bend from being a prematurely gloomy place.

“Technically. ” Benny offered a weak agreement. “But with the mountains and ridges, when the sun falls behind them, it’s, you know, darker than you expect. ”

“Don’t worry about it. We can see to keep going, can’t we?” I asked.

Neither of them replied.

We stayed together past the prearranged thirty minutes, though. Once the light really started to leave us, no one wanted to go at it alone.

We didn’t talk much. I guess we were all working on exactly what we were going to say if we found him. I wondered how much it mattered, except insomuch as we were distracting Dana by giving her something to do.

How would we begin a conversation with something so inhuman? After all, the prospect of company may not have been necessarily welcome to him, but I had to assume it didn’t intimidate him much either. I’d run into Green Eyes after a very loud wreck and a lot of swearing; on that occasion I would’ve been easy to avoid, but he didn’t bother.

I don’t know what thoughts kept my companions silent, but I could safely bet that Dana’s impression of the place wasn’t terribly different from mine. She might have been preoccupied with her grief, but no one with an ounce of psychic sensitivity could fail to notice the oppressive feel that weighed down on us.

It wasn’t like the battlefield, with its benignly frustrated ghosts. It wasn’t like the old Pine Breeze location either, where the bashful dead were nebulous, and distant.

“You feel it too?” I ventured, even though I didn’t need to.

Dana nodded.

“What?” Benny asked.

“Malice. Confusion,” she answered.

“Not malice exactly, I don’t think. More like aggression. Anger without a focus. ” If I had the words, I would’ve argued further. Sometimes I think that there are things people deliberately fail to name, as

if refusing to label them can make them any less real. “There’s sadness, too,” I concluded.

“Sure,” Dana said, but she didn’t look at me, and I couldn’t tell if she was agreeing with me or just being nice.

“I don’t feel anything, except sticky. This sucks. I want to be psychic. ”

“No you don’t,” Dana and I said in perfect time. My amazing psychic powers told me he didn’t believe us.

“Your car,” Dana said abruptly. “I saw it was damaged. You did that here?”

“I did that here. ”

“Against a tree?”