Chapter 12

  The chapel sat at the edge of Dry Gulch, its front doors hanging on bent hinges. Silas checked his rifle as they approached.

  Hard to believe what happened here yesterday.

  Beside him, Elias walked toward the chapel doors. Jane adjusted her rifle strap. Seraphine hung back, each step slower than the last.

  "You all right?" Silas asked her as they reached the chapel steps.

  "Fine."

  The front doors creaked as Elias pushed them open. Inside, everything was exactly as they'd left it after the fight. Overturned pews, dark stains where Father Merrick had killed a man.

  "Spread out," Elias said. "Look for anything that doesn't belong. Papers, hiding spots, anything that tells us what Merrick was really doing here."

  Silas moved to the right side of the chapel, checking behind the overturned pews. Most held nothing but dust and scattered hymn books. A few had personal items from Sunday services. A woman's glove, a child's toy, a prayer book.

  Jane examined the altar area, lifting the cloth covering and checking behind the wooden cross. "Nothing here but normal church things," she called. "Bible, communion supplies, collection plate."

  "Check for loose floorboards," Elias said. "Hidden compartments. Anything that might hold papers."

  Silas moved along the wall, testing each wooden panel for signs of recent work. Most of the chapel was old, the wood dark with age and worn smooth by decades of use. But here and there, he found newer sections.

  "Repairs," he muttered, running his hands over a section of wall that didn't match the rest. "Recent ones."

  "What kind of repairs?" Seraphine asked from near the door.

  "Wood's different here. Lighter colored." Silas knocked on the panel. It sounded hollow. "And there's something behind it."

  Elias joined him with his knife, working at the edges of the panel. "You're right. Wood's not even stained to match."

  The wood came away with a crack, revealing a small cavity behind it. Inside was a cloth bundle tied with string.

  "Papers," Silas said as Elias unwrapped it.

  Sketches. Crude drawings of symbols, maps of the local area, architectural plans.

  "These are drawings of the chapel," Jane said, studying one of the papers. "But with additions."

  "Basement," Elias said. "He was planning to dig one."

  "Or he already did," Seraphine said.

  She moved to the pulpit area, examining the floor. "These boards are newer than the rest. See the color difference?"

  Silas looked where she pointed. The floorboards there were lighter, unstained like the wall panel had been.

  "Help me move this," Elias said, grabbing one end of a pew.

  They dragged the pew aside.

  "Trap door?" Jane asked.

  Elias knelt and ran his hands over the boards. "Here," he said, working his knife into a gap between boards.

  The hidden door came up with a soft creak, revealing stone steps leading down into darkness. A sweet, rotting smell drifted up from below.

  "Well," Jane said. "That explains the architectural plans."

  Elias was already checking his weapons. "I'll go first. Stay close and call out if you see anything unusual."

  "What kind of unusual?" Silas asked.

  "The kind that shouldn't be under a church."

  Steep wooden steps led down into darkness, Elias struck a match. The small flame revealed a cramped space, maybe ten feet across. Unfinished. The walls were a mix of stone foundation and raw earth. Support beams held up the chapel floor above.

  "He didn't get far," Silas said.

  Half the room was finished stonework. The other half was dirt walls and exposed bedrock. Tools lay scattered near the unfinished section.

  "Light those candles," Elias said, nodding toward a few stubs set in crude holders on the finished wall.

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  As the candles flickered to life, more details emerged. The finished section had symbols carved into the stone. Crude but deliberate. A small wooden table stood against one wall, its surface stained dark. Papers and a journal lay scattered on top.

  "Look at this," Jane said, pointing to the dirt floor near the unfinished section. "Claw marks. Deep ones."

  Silas crouched to examine them. "He was digging in wolf form. That's how he managed this much work without anyone hearing."

  "Smart," Elias said grimly. "Dig at night when transformed, finish the stonework during the day when he had the chapel to himself."

  Seraphine ran her fingers along the carved symbols. "These marks... they're similar to what's on the pews upstairs. Territory markers."

  Silas approached the table. A map lay open, weighted down by stones. Red ink marked locations across the territory. Letters sat beside it. A leather journal lay open to a page covered in tight handwriting.

  "Found something," he called.

  Silas picked up one of the maps, holding it closer to the candlelight.

  Jane pointed to a red mark. "Henderson's place."

  Silas studied the map. Every werewolf attack he knew about was marked in red. "He was tracking them."

  Elias picked up one of the letters. "Or coordinating them." He read aloud. "'Brother Merrick. Your work among the faithful continues to bear fruit. Soon, they will be ready for the next phase.'"

  "The faithful," Jane repeated. "He's talking about townspeople."

  "Like sheep." Silas set the letter down quickly.

  Elias checked the signature. "Just signed 'L.'"

  "L," Silas repeated. "The pack leader?"

  Elias looked at Seraphine. "You know who that is."

  She met his eyes. "Lucien. The packmaster."

  The name hung in the air.

  Lucien. Finally have a name for the devil that's been killing people.

  "You ran with him," Elias said.

  "He's the one who turned me. The one who leads the pack."

  Elias nodded. “Good to know the name of who we are hunting.”

  Or who's hunting us.

  Elias set the letter down and picked up another. "'The Morrison boy shows promise. Strong constitution. L. believes he would adapt well to the change.'"

  Jane went pale. "Jake Morrison."

  He's still alive. Merrick was planning to turn him.

  "He was selecting people," Silas said.

  "Shopping for victims," Elias agreed, his jaw tight.

  The journal was worse. Page after page of observations about townspeople. Who might be "suitable." Who had the right "temperament for transformation."

  Merrick sat in that chapel every Sunday, watching. Choosing.

  "There's more," Elias said, flipping pages. "'Perdition is proceeding as planned. L. is pleased with the results.'"

  "Perdition," Jane said. "What's that?"

  Elias examined the map more closely, measuring distances with his finger. The map showed territory extending far beyond anywhere Silas had traveled. Deep in the mountains, a location was marked with a black X and careful lettering.

  "Nobody goes that far up," Jane said. "Too dangerous."

  "Merrick went that way when he ran," Elias said, tracing the northern route with his finger.

  Silas looked at the marked location. "Perdition. Old mining town that went bust years back. Folks just left one day, from what the report I read said."

  "Maybe they didn't leave," Elias said. "Maybe something happened to them."

  "Like what happened here," Jane said quietly.

  Seraphine studied the map. "If Merrick ran north to Perdition, and these letters talk about work being done there..."

  "Then that's where the pack is," Silas finished.

  "Or was," Elias said. "Either way, answers are there. And maybe Merrick too."

  They spent more time examining the papers. Most of the correspondence was routine, updates about "the faithful" and vague references to preparations.

  "Listen to this," Jane said, reading from one of the letters. "'The work in Perdition was a great success. L. is pleased and believes we can achieve the same here.'"

  "Work," Silas repeated. "What kind of work?"

  "Doesn't say."

  "Whatever they did there, they want to do the same thing here," Elias said, rolling up the map.

  "Or they want to use what they did there for something bigger," Seraphine suggested.

  "Either way," Silas said, "we need to know what we're dealing with."

  "So we go to Perdition," Jane said.

  Elias nodded, but Silas saw his eyes find Seraphine. "Only way to get answers. You coming with us?"

  Seraphine met his gaze. "I'm coming. You'll need someone who understands pack behavior."

  "Two days' hard riding through mountain country," Silas said.

  "Could be dangerous," Jane pointed out. "Depending on what we find there."

  "Staying here's dangerous too," Elias said. "At least this way we're doing something about it instead of just waiting for the next attack."

  They climbed the steps back to the chapel. The afternoon sun through the windows was bright after the dark basement.

  "When do we leave?" Silas asked.

  "First light," Elias said, tucking the map carefully inside his coat. "Pack light, move fast. Two days to get there, time to look around, two days back."

  "Wait," Jane said. "I should stay."

  They all looked at her.

  "Someone needs to coordinate things here," she explained. "Help Tom with the defenses, organize the people who stayed. If you're gone for that long, the town needs law enforcement."

  Elias nodded. "She's right. Three of us can move faster anyway."

  "And if something happens while you’re gone, the town needs someone they trust. Someone who knows what we found here. So, what do I tell people?" Jane asked.

  "Tell them we're investigating another town that had similar problems," Elias said. "That we might learn something that could help protect Dry Gulch."

  "How will I know if something's happened to you?"

  "If we're not back in a week, assume the worst," Elias said bluntly. "And start making plans to evacuate the town."

  The sun was setting as they walked back toward the forge. Behind them, the chapel stood empty.

  "Perdition," Silas said, looking north toward the mountains. "Whatever happened there, we need to find out."

  "Maybe we'll finally get some answers," Seraphine said.

  Even if we don't like them.