It's me.

  It's a shot of me, taken from a distance, on one of my late-night visits to Leanne's grave.

  “Ramsey,” Ethan says cautiously, coming toward me slowly, “I can explain.”

  “That was you?” I whisper, feeling a growing sense of shock as I turn to him. “You were watching me the other night at the cemetery? I heard someone in the bushes but -”

  “Let me explain.” He holds his hands up, as if in surrender. “I understand that you might be angry, but I need you to hear me out.”

  “You were stalking me at my friend's grave?” I ask incredulously.

  “That was before I'd figured out a way to talk to you, Ramsey. I wanted to understand you, to figure out where you fit into all of this.”

  “How long have you been following me?” I ask.

  “The important thing is -”

  “How long?” I yell.

  He hesitates, and I can see that he knows I won't like the answer.

  “When I bumped into you at the cafe,” I add, “was that even an accident?”

  I wait.

  His silent, worried stare is all the answer I need.

  “How long have you been sneaking around and watching me?” I continue. “And what else have you been doing? Have you been going through my trash? Have you been asking people about me? Have you been watching my house? Are you -”

  “I have to know where he is!” he snaps suddenly.

  “Why? Why does it matter to you?”

  “Why does it not matter to you?” he asks, stepping closer. “I know you're scared, but aren't you curious? Sebastian is clearly more than just some random dude. Think about it, Ramsey. He managed to keep your father alive. He managed to burn an entire forest. He has some kind of witch woman as his prisoner. How can you not want to get to the bottom of it all?” He pauses. “Are you really willing to ignore evidence of something completely fantastical, just because you selfishly only care about this deal you struck?”

  “Yeah,” I reply. “When that deal is about my father's life, then absolutely. Goodbye, Ethan. Don't stalk me again. My father's the local sheriff, remember?”

  With that, I turn to leave.

  “Maybe I should go and talk to your father myself,” he calls after me. “Would you like that, Ramsey?”

  I glance back at him.

  “Don't you dare,” I say firmly. “I swear...”

  “Relax,” he replies. “What would I gain from talking to your father? I thought you might be interested in doing the right thing, but I guess I misjudged you. You only care about yourself.”

  “Goodbye,” I say again, before heading out through the open doorway. “I can't and I won't help you find Sebastian.”

  He doesn't call after me, which is a relief. As I hurry down the stairs, I feel a rush of relief as I realize that at least he seems to have accepted my decision. My heart is racing, but I know I've done the right thing. Sure, Ethan might go off and keep searching for Sebastian, he might even find him, but at least I won't be implicated and at least Sebastian won't think I've broken any of the terms of the deal. I might not get to think of myself as a hero, but I get to keep my father alive and that's all that matters to me right now.

  Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I head out into the dark yard.

  Heroes don't exist in this world.

  I unfasten the gate.

  Heroes are just a delusion. Something to make people feel better.

  I step out into the alley.

  Heroes are -

  “Ramsey.”

  Startled, I begin to turn, but suddenly I'm pulled back into the dark yard and a wet cloth is slammed against my face. I immediately start to struggle, even as an arm reaches around my chest and holds me tight.

  “I thought you were going to cooperate,” Ethan whispers into my ear from behind. “I thought you had to have some information about Sebastian's whereabouts.”

  I try to scream, but the cloth is pushing too firmly against my mouth and I can already smell something foul soaking through the fabric. A moment later, my knees start to buckle.

  “Fine,” Ethan continues, so close now that I can feel his hot breath on the side of my neck, “then we'll have to think about a back-up plan. I need to find Sebastian, Ramsey. This isn't optional. This is life and death. I need to find him and I can't wait around for you to change your mind, so one way or another you are going to help me. And that's cool. You're going to do this whether you like it or not.”

  I try to elbow him in the ribs, but my arms are too heavy.

  “Don't fight it,” he says. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

  I try again to cry out. As I do so, however, I feel my eyes start to slip shut and I realize Ethan is holding me up. I'm losing consciousness as the liquid from the cloth continues to fill my nostrils.

  “Sebastian betrayed us,” Ethan continues as I slip away into darkness. “My brothers and I. He drowned us in the river, and only two of us survived to swim to shore. And he destroyed our home. So you must understand, Ramsey, that I can't take no for an answer. I need to find Sebastian, and you're my only hope. So let's not make this any harder than it needs to be, okay?”

  All I can do is let out a faint murmur as I slip away. The last thing I feel is Ethan starting to gather me up into his arms, and then...

  Nothing.

  Forty-Six

  Sheriff James Kopperud

  “I can't get in touch with anyone!” Coles says as she hurries this way, trampling across the ashy ground. “No-one knows we're out here! Tracking worked, but I can't make calls or send messages! It's almost like...”

  “It's still here!” Michaels gasps. “The demon! I saw the demon! It's still out here!”

  “What's he talking about?” Coles asks. “Boss? What does he mean?”

  She steps closer, and then I hear her let out a shocked cry as she stumbles back.

  “I need you to stay focused!” I hiss, turning to her and seeing the fear in her eyes. “Do you hear me? Stay focused on what I tell you!”

  “What happened to him?” she gasps. “His face...”

  “We have to get him out of here,” I tell her. “We have to get him to the car first, and then -”

  “It's still here!” Michaels shouts, suddenly filled with a burst of panic. “The demon's still here!”

  “What's he talking about?” Coles asks. “What demon?”

  “He's delirious,” I reply, even though I have my doubts. I can't help turning and looking around again, watching the charred landscape in case there's any hint of movement. My heart is racing and I know that even if Michaels is ranting like a madman, something clearly attacked him.

  A wild animal.

  That's all it can be.

  Some kind of wild animal, probably displaced by the fire, must be out here. Father Porter probably saw the same thing. Frankly, I think I'd prefer to be facing a demon right now, because demons aren't real. Wild animals, on the other can, can be deadly and I'm worried a bear might have strayed all the way to the edge of our little town.

  Reaching down, I double-check that my gun is at my waist. Not that I could necessarily bring a bear down, but at least it's something.

  “Here's the situation,” I say to Coles, as I get to my feet. She's starting to cry, and I know I need to make sure she stays strong. “I have reason to believe that some kind of animal is out here. Something dangerous. We're armed, so there's no reason why it can get to us and -”

  “It got to him!” she points out, looking down at Michaels.

  “There are two of us,” I remind her, still struggling to stay calm. “We're going to work together as a team, and that's how we're going to get out of this. First, we need to get Michaels into our vehicle, and then we need to drive back to town.”

  “But -”

  “All the questions can wait until we're back in town,” I add. “Do you understand? Once we're in town, we'll have all the time in the world to figure this out. Right now, we have a man down and we need to work together. I'm relying on you, okay? Now we have to figure out a way to move Michaels. Got it?”

  She turns to me. For a moment, I think she's maybe going to break down completely, but then finally she nods.

  “It's still here,” Michaels gasps. “It's coming.”

  “Ignore him,” I say, seeing the fear in Coles's eyes. “Focus on getting him out of here. I'll take his shoulders and you take his legs, okay?”

  “Okay,” she stammers, but I can tell she's on the verge of a full-on breakdown.

  Hurrying around Michaels, I crouch down and take hold of his shoulders. He's trembling wildly, and I think he's in some kind of advanced state of shock, and we have to get him to the emergency room as fast as we can. I wait as Coles grabs his feet, and then together we start lifting him up. He immediately lets out a cry of pain, and Coles instinctively starts lowering him back down.

  “We have to keep going!” I tell her.

  “But he's -”

  “We have to get him to the car!” I add. “He's going to be in pain whatever we do!”

  “But -”

  “Just get on with it!” I yell, momentarily losing my patience. “That's an order! Get this man into the vehicle right now!”

  This, at least, seems to get her focused again, and we start carrying Michaels carefully across the ashy ground.

  “We're going to get you to safety,” I tell Michaels, even though I'm not sure whether he can hear me. “I should never have sent you out here. I should have noticed you hadn't come back. I should -”

  Suddenly Coles lets go of his legs and steps back. Looking at her, I see that her eyes are wide with horror, and that she seems to be staring at something behind me. Still holding Michaels' shoulders, I turn and glance back out across the burned forest, but I don't see anything.

  “There was a man out there,” Coles says, her voice filled with fear. “I saw a man, standing watching us.”

  “I don't see anyone,” I tell her. “Where exactly was he?”

  “He was right there!” she continues. “Maybe fifty, sixty feet from us. I could see him silhouetted against the horizon. He was just standing there, watching us!”

  “I don't see where anyone could have gone,” I reply, still watching for any hint of this mysterious stranger. It's clear to me that Coles is letting her imagination run wild. I don't blame her for that, but right now I need her to stay focused, so after a moment I turn to her. “Take his legs again.”

  “You don't believe me,” she stammers. “I'm not crazy! I know what I saw!”

  “Put it in the report when we get back,” I tell her. “Right now, I need you to take this man's legs and help me get him out of here. You can do that, can't you? We need to work as a team here.”

  “But -”

  “Take his legs!” I shout. “That's an order!”

  She stares at me for a moment, as if she's utterly frozen. But then, suddenly, she seems to stir and I watch as she reaches down again for Michaels' legs. She hauls him up and we start walking, making our way slowly and carefully toward the car. I can see that Coles is still looking past me, as if she expects to suddenly spot the figure she thinks she saw, but at least she's managing to hold herself together and a moment later we get to the car and – before I have a chance to tell her – she opens one of the rear doors so we can load Michaels inside.

  “That's good,” I say as we ease the trembling body onto the back seat. “Hold him steady.”

  Michaels groans as we slide him along the seat, but I focus on the fact that at least we're going to get him to the hospital. As I arrange his legs, I glance along at his face and see the shredded strips of flesh that have begun to stick against his eyes. For a moment, I can't imagine any way that he can be helped, but then I remind myself that our job is simply to get him to the doctors.

  They'll take over once we reach the hospital, and they might just be able to pull off a miracle.

  “I'll drive,” I say as I shut the door and hurry around to the other side of the car.

  Climbing into the driver's seat, I'm relieved to find that Coles is already getting into the car as well. She's clearly on the edge of a breakdown, and in the past I've sometimes worried that she can't handle extreme pressure. Right now, she's holding up in the middle of a nightmare, and frankly I'm impressed. As she pulls the passenger-side door shut and starts tapping at her phone, I realize I can trust her to stay calm.

  “There's still no signal,” she says as I try to start the engine. “How can there still be no -”

  Stopping suddenly, she turns to me and then – a fraction of a second later – she looks down at the ignition as I continue to turn the key without any luck.

  “Boss?” she continues, with a rising sense of fear in her voice. “Is there a problem?”

  “It must be the cold air,” I say through gritted teeth, as I try the key again and again. Even as those words leave my lips, however, I know deep down that something more serious is wrong.

  I've been around enough engines to hear when there's a failure.

  “I'm going to take a look,” I say, opening the door, “and -”

  “No!”

  She grabs my arm, holding me in place.

  “You can't go out there!” she hisses.

  “I've got my gun.”

  “But -”

  “There's nothing to be scared of,” I say firmly. “If there's a wild animal, it's most likely gone by now.”

  “Coles said something was still here.”

  “Coles is delirious,” I point out. “Keep a watch out, okay? If you see anything moving, anything coming this way at all, hit the horn to let me know.”

  “But if you've got the hood up,” she replies, “I won't be able to see behind you.”

  “Let me worry about that.”

  “I'm scared,” she adds, unnecessarily. After all, her voice is trembling with fear.

  “I'll fix the problem and we'll get out of here,” I tell her, before gently slipping my arm from her grip. “Just stay right here and everything will be alright.”

  “James -”

  “Stay here!”

  After climbing out of the car, I swing the door shut and then head around to the front. I glance around to make sure that there's nobody and nothing nearby, then I lift the hood up and aim my flashlight at the engine. Peering closer, I try to figure out what could have gone wrong, although at first glance the whole system seems fine. I check the most obvious contenders, but pretty quickly I start to realize that I might be out of my depth. And then, just as I'm leaning even closer to the engine's far side, I hear a clicking sound nearby followed by footsteps.

  Turning, I'm startled to see Coles coming into view, with her gun raised and aimed at the horizon.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Being brave,” she says, her voice still trembling with fear as she turns and aims the gun the other way. “Doing my duty.”

  “You don't -”

  “I'm not a coward!” she says firmly. “Please, let me do this.”

  “Sure,” I reply, quietly very impressed that she's managing to push past her fears. Still, as I turn back to look at the engine again, I feel as if I'm completely lost. Finally, with no other ideas, I decide to check the oil, and after a moment I realize that I might have stumbled onto the source of the problem.

  “So what do you think did that to Michaels?” Coles asks, as she continues to turn and cover every direction. “A bear? A wolf?”

  “I have no idea,” I reply, still fiddling with the engine in a bid to confirm my suspicions. “We lost a lot of forest. Who knows what that might have done to the ecology around here? We had some people call by a while back, saying they wanted to conduct a survey to assess the damage to local wildlife. They were supposed to come back next summer, although to be honest I didn't think there was much point. Now, though, I'm starting to think that...”

  I reach down and check the dipstick, and sure enough the oil level is way too low.

  “That's impossible,” I whisper. “I check the damn thing only a few days ago.”

  “Did you figure out the problem?”

  “I'm going to have to get under the car to take a better look,” I reply, as I step back and lower the hood. Turning, I look around for a moment, but all I see are charred tree stumps in every direction. “Something might have snagged a pipe,” I continue, glancing back at Coles. “I don't suppose you know much about cars, do you?”

  “Not a thing,” she says. “Does this mean we're gonna be stuck out here for a while?”

  “That's a definite possibility,” I tell her. “Can you go and check Michaels' car. See if it's running.”

  “It looks kinda -”

  “I don't care how it looks,” I add. “Tell me if we can drive it.”

  With that, I turn and head around to the rear of the car, while Coles goes over to take a look at Michaels' vehicle. I need to get down on my hands and knees and check the car's underside, but after a moment I realize I can hear Michaels mumbling and muttering again on the back seat. I peer in and see that he's trying to sit up, so I hurry around to the other side and open the door, and then I kneel down to take a closer look at his face.

  “Easy there,” I tell him. “I know you must be in pain, but we're going to get you to the hospital as soon as we can.”

  I wait, but he seems more agitated than before.

  “Are you cold?” I ask, realizing I can see my own breath. I slip out of my jacket and set it over Michaels' torso, hoping to keep him a little warmer. “Just hang tight. I'm going to get you out of this mess.”

  “His car's dead too,” Coles says breathlessly, hurrying back over to join us. “Boss, does that seem like a coincidence to you?”

  I look up at her, and I immediately see the fear in her eyes.

  “These cars are serviced regularly,” she points out, “and -”

  “I know,” I reply, getting to my feet. “Two of them breaking down in the same spot on the same night seems...”