Harvestland

THIRTY-FOUR

Noah and Sofia trudged through the flooded town in the rainy darkness. They were soaked, hair drenched and heavy clothes sticking to them, jackets offering little protection against the storm.

After fleeing the motel, Noah guided her through the myriad cornstalks in the farm country out back. A few minutes later they emerged far up the road, on the shoulder of Route 148.

From there he had them cut through a few neighborhoods, all of the houses pitch dark, quiet and locked away from the storm outside. When he could, Noah took her off residential roads and had them cut through backyards. He had a flashlight he borrowed from Daly's bag to help them along.

Many roads by now were submerged under several inches of water, the levels only rising. Floodwaters ravaged high against curbsides that tried to hold water at bay from overflowing sewer drains.

"I'm sorry," Noah yelled over the storm. "About all of this. We can turn around whenever you want to. I'm putting you in a lot of danger."

A squad car spinning its reds and blues wailed around the corner of the road. Noah grabbed Sofia and they dove for cover. They lost purchase in the dive and slipped, held onto each other as they tumbled down a muddy embankment.

Noah helped her up and any mud on them was soon rinsed off in the downpour. They found a less steep route back up onto the road and pressed on.

Sofia didn't complain once. "We keep going," she yelled. "I have to do this, especially if he's got Brittany. You're sure this is where he'll be?"

"Yes. It's where he wants to end all this. I know it."

They took the floodwall behind some homes and went around Hollow Hills to the Valley.

"And you can stop him?" Sofia said, taking Noah's wrist and looking him dead in the face. Her matted hair added to the intensity in her eyes. The wind and rain gave her the look of a war-torn solider.

"I have this," Noah said, indicating the weapon in his shoulder holster. "And this, most important." He tugged at the cross on his rosary that dangled from his neck.

"Beads?"

"God."

She stared at him a long time and nodded. She slid her palm into his, tried to interlock fingers. He pulled his hand away gently.

"Seriously?" she said. "I'm not gonna try to kiss you again, just fucking hold my hand!"

Noah complied. It felt good. Safe.

It took them about an hour in the storm and they didn't rest. Noah recognized the hilly area that led down into the dense woods behind Sleepy Hollow Drive. Descending from the floodwall, he led Sofia through an area made marshy by the storm until they came upon the stretch of road that had been abandoned for years. Down that old road would be a haunted house, filled with the ghosts of Halloweens past.

Moments after Officer Uhl's call over the radio, police units all over town raced with sirens blaring to the Hawkeye Motel. A couple even missed Andrew's SUV as he pulled over to the side of the road to hide from them, his lights off.

About a half-dozen police cruisers roared into the muddy parking lot of the motel, the dark night awash in red and blue made psychedelic in the storm. They shut off their sirens as they came to a halt but kept the lights on.

Uhl stood under the awning with his shotgun and watched what looked to him like a circus of radio cars, cops swarming out of them like clowns. His eyes swept over them in a passing glance: Tierney, Hardwicke, Coffey, Wakefield, Meyerhold, Hannigan.