Ben Dover's Arc

Chapter 118 of 150

Ben carried the chest off the sand and up the bank. The tide was going out. His boot prints stayed in the wet flat behind him, plain as ink. He had three hours until light and no wall thick enough to hold the hum for a full day. He needed a roof and a door before the hunters walked the wreck. A red-haired girl stepped out of the reeds. Ima Hogg. She had burned her own house to buy him a lead two nights back. He had not expected to see her again. "You're slow," she said. "They're on the ridge road already." "How far." "An hour. Maybe less." Ben set the chest down. The creature shifted inside. A thin note leaked through the lid. He pressed his palm to the wood until it settled. "I need a place with walls," he said. "Somewhere no one looks." "There's a house up the slope." Ima pointed past the pines. "Painted. Bright. People walk around it." "Why." "They think it's a trick. It's the last thing on the road that looks cheerful. Nobody trusts that." Ben followed her up through the pines. The house sat in a clearing on low stone. Someone had painted the boards yellow and red. A carved sign over the door read SURPRISE. Ribbons had been nailed to the eaves and left to rot. The door hung open. "Who lives here," Ben said. "No one now. A man built it for his wife. She died before he finished. Hunters don't search it. They think it's bait." Ben carried the chest inside. The floor was dry. The walls were double-plank, tight. He set the chest in the back corner and opened the lid. The creature was awake. He scooped the last of the pear mash and held it out. It ate from his hand and the hum dropped away. Boots crunched on gravel outside. Ben froze. Ima moved to the window and looked through a crack. "One man," she whispered. "Old. Not a hunter." The door pushed wider. Adam Baum stood in the frame with a crowbar over his shoulder. He looked at Ben, then at the chest, then at the painted walls. "This house," Adam said. "I've been meaning to bring it down for a year." "Not tonight." "Not tonight," Adam said. He stepped inside and pulled the door shut behind him. "They passed the wreck an hour ago. Found nothing. They're working back along the water now. You have until they turn inland." "How long." "Two hours. Maybe three." Ben closed the lid on the sleeping creature. He had walls. He had a door. He had a house no one would enter because it looked like a joke. He had bought a morning, not more. Outside, a horn called once from the beach. The hunters were turning.