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a smile curling her lip.
    “You been through what these good folks have endured, you’d be a little cautious, too.”
    “Is that what you call it when you let an innocent man go off with a monster to save your own asses?” Matt said. “Cautious?”
    “We wanted to warn you, Matt,” the little girl said, her eyes filled with terror at the thought he might leave again. “We wanted to. But she showed up right behind you. There was nothing anyone could do.”
    Matt thought back to his arrival. The people of the town had clustered around him, and then drawn back when he’d taken off his helmet. He’d assumed it was because they saw he wasn’t the one they’d been waiting for. But Joan had spoken in his ear seconds afterward. Was it possible that it was her arrival that had caused them to back away from him?
    “We lived with that thing for a long time,” the old woman said unapologetically. “We knew her rules, and we knew what would happen if we violated them.”
    “And we knew you were the one who was going to free us,” the girl added. “We knew you were our hero.”
    “I’m no one’s hero,” Matt said.
    But as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he began to wonder if that was true. He had been wandering, lost, through his life since he’d been brought back from the dead, searching for his purpose. And while he’d had no idea of what he’d been doing, every step he took had brought him one step closer to Heaven. What had made him buy that motorcycle, head out on that particular highway? What had impelled him to take the exit that led him to this cursed town? Was it possible that this was the reason he’d been reborn?
    Standing in the middle of the street, muscles aching, ribs cracked, head pounding, he’d never felt less like a hero. But they’d known he was coming. Known when he hadn’t. They’d been waiting for him to liberate them. And he’d done it.
    The old woman spat on the street. “Call yourself what you want,” she said. “You got the job done, I figure you we owe you.”
    “I told you,” the little girl said. “I told you he’d come.”
    Ignoring her, the old woman turned back to the open door of the general store. “Time to stop hiding and come on out,” she barked. “All of you, come out. The time for cowering’s over.” She turned back to Matt. “This town owes you. You’ll see we repay our debts.”
    Matt had a vision of himself seated on a golden throne, still clutching his axe, like Conan the Barbarian crowned king on one of those Frank Frazetta paperback covers. It was so absurd he had to suppress a smile.
    “You don’t owe me anything,” Matt said.
    “Orfamay Vetch knows something about debts,” the old woman said. “This town’s books balance. Always have, and as long as I’m in charge, always will. We owe you, and we will repay you.”
    Behind Orfamay, the street was beginning to fill with people. They all kept their distance, but Matt could see they all had the same expression in their eyes. It was a look of awe.
    “All I want is a ride back to the highway,” Matt said.
    “A ride?” Orfamay said. “The Pingree mule died last winter. Not much here to ride on since it hit the stew pot.”
    “I was thinking about maybe a car,” Matt said, looking for any sign she had been joking.
    “A truck would be fine. I’m not fussy.”
    The old woman’s eyes narrowed. “A car?” she said. “A private car?”
    “I don’t really care who owns it,” Matt said. “I just need a ride.”
    “You must think we’re all Carnegies around here,” she said. “You come to supper tonight, and we’ll talk about what we owe you.”
    Before Matt could say anything, she turned and walked back to the crowd that was still assembling down the street. As he watched her go, baffled, he felt a tugging at his hand.
    “Don’t worry about her, Matt.” It was the little girl, and she was staring up at him with unabashed worship. “Whatever you need, you’ll get. The