Virals(99)

"Kit, wait one sec."

I walked up beside Chance.

"Hey," I said gently. "It's me, Tory."

Chance didn't move, didn't blink.

"You're a real bastard," I said. "But you tried to save my life. For what it's worth, thanks."

Chance's eyes remained blank, his face slack.

Shaking my head, I rejoined Kit on the driveway.

Crickets floated their chorale best out onto the warm Charleston night. High above, a dove cooed softly.

I yawned.

Time to go home.





EPILOGUE


The sun blazed down from the top of its arc as Ben anchored Sewee off Turtle Beach. I popped over the side, anxious to get wet.

A light breeze tussled my hair. The smells of sand and salt blended with those of myrtle and palmetto.

We'd come back to Loggerhead Island.

I'd been grounded for two weeks, and it felt glorious to be out of the house. Confessing to a half dozen B and E's had been enough for Kit to put me on lockdown. And I still hadn't told him everything.

The news coverage had been entertaining. Hollis Claybourne was collared on the State House steps, charged with the murders of Katherine Heaton and Marcus Karsten and a zillion other crimes.

Hannah and Baravetto were each charged with Karsten's murder, along with four counts of attempted murder. Baravetto's nephew, Claybourne's other henchman, had also been arrested. Rumor had it that Hannah would flip and testify against her partners in crime.

Karsten's body remained missing. According to Hannah, Hollis had dumped him at sea. His car was found in the long-term parking lot at the Charleston airport. One of the three must have driven it there from Morris Island on the night of his death.

Chance was charged with desecration of human remains and obstruction of justice, but avoided anything more serious.

In his case, the district attorney would have to be patient. Chance remained catatonic. No one knew if he'd ever leave the psychiatric hospital to which he'd been committed.

Splashing toward land, I drank in the view. I've said it before: Turtle Beach is the best in the world. I wiggled sand between my toes, trailed my arms through the cooling water, loving the old Palmetto state.

We'd already made one stop that day. Earlier in the week DNA had confirmed that the skeleton was indeed Katherine Heaton. That morning her bones were buried at Holy Cross Cemetery.

It had been a lonely little gathering. An ancient priest. Detective Borken. Sylvia Briggerman, accompanied by a nurse. Abby Quimby. Some parents from Morris Island. And, of course, the Virals.

I'd strung Francis Heaton's dog tags on a new chain, and placed them inside the coffin.

Rest in peace, Katherine.

"Tory!" Hi hollered from the boat. "Help with this mongrel!"

Hi was trying to coax Cooper over the side but failing badly. The fifty-pound puppy wasn't anxious to get wet.

Laughing, I splashed back to Sewee. Coop whined, but allowed me to lift him. Even licked my face.

"Come on, boy."

I carried the pup several yards, then planted his paws knee-deep in the surf. He yelped, scampered to the beach, and shook like mad. Water flew from his fur. Then, nose raised, ears flat, he disappeared into the brush.

When we'd all gathered on shore, we looked around. No sign of the wolfdog.

"I guess that's that." Shelton looked disappointed. "The little ingrate didn't even look back."

A cacophony of barks erupted in the bushes. Four animals exploded into view, rolling and jumping in a giant ball. One wolf. One German shepherd. Two wolfdogs. Four tails wagged like excited signal flags.

Suddenly, Whisper's eyes locked on us. Fur bristling, she snarled and stepped in front of her cub.

Ben backed into the waves. "Whoa. That doesn't sound like a welcome."

"So this is how it ends." Hi, king of drama. "Mauled to death by an angry wolf mother. Great plan, Tory."

As we stood frozen, Coop nipped his mother's flank. Whisper glanced down. Coop barked, then slipped by her and padded over to me.

Whisper tensed, but didn't interfere.

I dropped to a knee. Coop placed his forepaws on my shoulders and licked my cheek. I nuzzled his head with my face.

Whisper sat. Cocked her head. Raised her ears.

I sighed in relief. Coop had vouched for his two-legged companions. Mama appeared skeptical, but accepting.

I smiled, happy but sad. "Time to be with your family, little guy."

Coop barked, danced a circle, then fired back to the pack. The canines slipped into the woods and were gone.

We lingered a while, hoping for a return appearance. No such luck. Still, I didn't want to leave.

"He's better off out here," Ben said. "Plenty of space, no one to hassle him. He'll be happy."

I nodded, but couldn't shake the melancholy. I would rarely see Coop in the future. He might forget me.

"Ready to go?" Hi said. "I'm still grounded. I had to beg for a special exemption to make this trip."

"Ready." Not really.

Leaves swished, then Coop burst from the foliage, the rest of the family close on his heels. Without hesitation, he trotted over and sat at my feet.

Bark! Bark!

"Okay, buddy." I rubbed his head. "Your mama's in charge now." I gently pushed him back toward the pack.