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keep his whining mouth closed and go to sleep. Melody was crying herself now, an outpouring of emotion that she’d held onto for what felt like a lifetime. Isaacs’s cries took on a different tone. They were cries of confusion rather than fear. She barely heard them. Instead, the outpouring of anger continued as she raged at her son, then, as quickly as it came, it faded. She leaned her elbows on the table and put her head in her hands. Isaacs’s cries echoed around the apartment, not stopping until the police arrived.

CHAPTER 6

     
    James Fisher stood on Oakwell’s Main Street, watching as Kimmel’s men loaded the last stubborn residents onto busses ready to be transported out of the town. He remained impassive, eyes hidden behind reflective aviator glasses, as the proceedings unfolded. Some of the residents, those who had decided to try and sit out the slump or had only known life in Oakwell, had been difficult to move, and it had taken the presence of soldiers with weapons to persuade them the alternative accommodation that had been arranged was for the best. Fisher hadn’t spoken of his experience at the clearing to anyone, and even though he was some distance away from it, he could still feel its clammy, sickening touch on his skin. He checked his clipboard, marking off another bus as it closed its doors and took its unwilling passengers away.
    Kimmel strode over and stood beside him.
    “Any trouble?” Fisher asked.
    “Nothing we couldn’t handle. We should have the town emptied within the week.”
    “Are they accepting the story?”
    “Mostly. The old timers don’t seem too convinced. They’ve lived here long enough to know there are no sinkholes under the town. I suppose it’s going to have to suffice. What I want to know is what happens then?”
    “What do you mean?” Fisher asked, turning toward the General.
    “Once you empty this place. What then?”
    “Nothing. We seal it up and forbid access. A small team will be stationed here on the outskirts of town for a while to deter the curious. With luck, the forest will reclaim this godforsaken place and that will be the end of it.”
    “What about what we found under the house. Surely that changes things?”
    “You don’t sound much like a man who wants to be out of here, General Kimmel. Why all the questions?”
    “Come on, Fisher, you know what I’ve had to deal with up here. You visited for half an hour. I’ve been here for a couple of weeks. I’m just having trouble leaving a mission half-done. It’s not in my blood.”
    Fisher nodded, then took off his glasses, folded them over and slipped them into his jacket pocket. “I think under the circumstances, this one is best forgotten. You did your best, General. Nobody can ask any more of you.”
    “It’s my men I’m worried about. The ones I’ve already lost.”
    “How so?”
    “Do you know what it was like to tell their loved ones? Good men who didn’t deserve to die that way. Men with lives… families. Telling a family member that their nearest and dearest died valiantly in battle is easy. How do I explain what they did to themselves up there?”
    “We both knew how difficult this would be to keep a lid on, General. There will always be questions, there will always be curiosity. Sometimes the best thing to do is nothing at all. Let it fade from people’s memories.”
    “That still doesn’t answer my question about what’s under the house. Those tunnels go deep. We need to explore them.”
    “And you can rest assured they will be. Just not yet.”
    “When?”
    “Why do you want to know?”
    “Because I’m curious. I want to know why I was sent up here to investigate then barred from entering the one location that might give us some answers. Pardon my French, Fisher, but this whole situation fucking stinks.”
    “Look, I won’t insult your intelligence, General. I did that when I got here and regretted it instantly. You know how this works. There’s a chain of command.