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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
Chapter 3
“It’s awfully quiet,” Silas remarked as he and Rachel watched Ms. Albright disappear into the orange-tinged mist. “Do the others know they have a new Gullymate?”
Rachel held up one finger, a long, red stiletto nail sharply accenting her point. “Wait for it.”
A few seconds later, the screaming started.
“It’s been about a year since they had fresh meat to play with. They were all pretty excited, but fighting amongst themselves over who got to be on the welcoming committee. I think Ms. Albright is going to have a rough couple of weeks, until they get tired of playing with her.”
Though Silas knew well what that entailed having been forced to watch a few times as a boy, he didn’t flinch. It was all just part of what they did, and what their family had done for over a century. Mental distance was required. And in his case, necessary to keeping certain…proclivities in check.
“Has Mr. Wentworth been informed of his release?”
Rachel shook her head. “No. I decided to wait until Ms. Albright was securely in place. I didn’t want another unfortunate incident like we had last time. I will notify him now, and organize his release at midnight. Does that give you enough time to prepare?”
“My preparations are complete, and a midnight release will be perfect. The moon will be full tomorrow night’s, which will aid in the hunt.” He could feel the excitement he normally kept locked away tight bubbling just under the surface, and he fought hard to keep it under control for just a little longer.
“Very good. Enjoy yourself, brother. I know these hunts are your only real release. I hope this one is satisfying enough to tide you over until the next.” With a nod, she went back through the nearly hidden tunnel at the side of the small cavern. Silas looked out over the expanse of the Gully one more time, and then turned to take his leave as well, going back through the wet, narrow passageway he’d just come through not ten minutes before.
A certain type of person was required to do what he did as Dispatcher. As a boy, he had often been told that he was the way he was specifically to fulfill his destiny in the family. He had spent decades learning how to control his baser urges and instincts, yet they still built up inside him over time, making him surly and somewhat difficult to be around, or so his sisters said.
It was forbidden for any of the Gully Guardians to touch an occupant, until that occupant was released. At that point ( after the twenty-four hour grace period that is), it was his duty to mete out final retribution for the sins that they had created committed. Thanks to his innate personality, and almost complete lack of empathy, it was also his pleasure to do so.
He and his sisters had been granted an extraordinarily long life, in order to continue caring for and maintaining the Gully system. Someday soon he would need to reproduce, as would each of his sisters, in order to ensure that the Gully was properly managed after the three of them were gone.
Back in his office space, he sat down at the desk, and looked thoughtfully at the portraits hanging on either side of the cavern’s entrance. His mother and father had been well-aligned with each other, and made it their life’s work to create the Gully system. His father had died a victim of the Gully inhabitants, which is why no one but Rachel was allowed to interact with the occupants.
His mother, Belle Dawson, had only just died ten years back, and Silas always wondered whether she’d died because her body actually gave out, or if she’d just been tired of living. Either way, he suspected most of the answers to life’s questions were in the journals he’d watched her write in when he was a child, but they’d been lost almost immediately when she died – an odd and coincidental occurrence, to be sure.
They’d scoured the mine and surrounding area, as well as the parks in the area to no avail. His mother had loved being out in nature – it was like she couldn’t breath when she wasn’t, so the natural place for her journals would be in some wild, overgrown yet protected spot.
Unfortunately, that could describe nearly half the State of Montana.
Securing the record books back in the vault behind him, Silas stretched and then picked a box up from the floor that contained some of the supplies he’d need the next day. He carried them out of the mine, waving at Beth as he passed the information center. It had been her idea to create a tourist destination from the mine when people had started to get curious about why she spent all her time up here. The idea had turned into a full-time business, and it easily paid the bills every month.
Leading tour groups several times a day also had the added perk of allowing them to tell people the stories they wanted to hear while keeping them away from the deeper, more dangerous parts of the mine.
At the back of the parking lot, Silas opened the tailgate of his black Dodge Ram and set the box in the bed, closing the tailgate again. He climbed up into the truck and brought it to life, rolling both windows down to let in the cool mountain air as he drove home to his cabin on the family property just outside Magpie. It was time to rest.
Soon it would be time to hunt.
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