Long Winter by Rachel Ember

Author:Rachel Ember [Ember, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Chestnut Press

Chapter Sixteen

Robbie

Nine years ago.

Every time Robbie has to speak to Lance’s father, he gives himself a long lecture first. His inner voice alternates between sounding like his dad and sounding like Megan—the two voices of reason he’s been lucky enough to have in his life. Obviously, he never had the opportunity to talk through the conundrum that is Lance Taylor with his dad, but Megan has listened to him rant time and again. He’s never had any hard evidence that Lance’s father is a complete waste of air, certainly never from Lance himself. But it’s obvious Lance doesn’t get everything that he needs at home.

Today is Danny’s thirteenth birthday party, and Lance has been home sick for three days. Last year, Robbie finally convinced Lance to take a cell phone that he could keep for emergencies, and now he’s used it to text Danny and tell him that he can’t come to the party. An illness that would come between Lance Taylor and sugar in one of its purest forms—birthday cake—much less the chance to celebrate with Danny, must be serious enough that he should be in a hospital.

Or, Robbie’s other, more complicated fear is correct: Lance isn’t sick at all.

He tried calling the Taylors’ landline number first, but it only rang. And then, while he was finishing up the chore of picking up party supplies and debating driving out to the Taylors’ house, he saw the familiar rusted-out Dodge that Paul Taylor, Lance’s father, drives, parked in front of the roughest bar in town. That meant Lance was home alone, and if Robbie stopped in to check on him, no one would be there to get in his way.

He drives faster than he probably should, skidding out on the gravel in the turns. He’s driving the pre-owned sedan he bought right after Danny outgrew his booster seat, and he can hardly believe it hasn’t quit yet, though the engine complains every time he nudges the gas pedal. When he gets to the Taylors’ and turns down the driveway, he checks his rearview mirror about a dozen times, half-expecting to see Paul’s truck appear behind him. It doesn’t.

One of the house’s windows is boarded over, but strangely, it’s boarded over from the inside. The other windows are dark. Robbie feels like he’s approaching an abandoned place as he parks, jogs up to the door, and knocks. No one answers.

“Lance?” he calls.

Nothing.

Suddenly too frightened to hesitate, Robbie opens the front door. It isn’t locked, which isn’t a surprise; most people don’t bother with locks in Trace County. The house is dark inside. A wave of fetid air greets Robbie, offering a gut-turning combination of stale beer, cigarette smoke, and old trash. He fights the urge to cover his nose as he steps past the threshold.

“Lance?”

There’s a thud from his left, where he finds a closed door straight off the messy living room. It must lead to the room with the boarded-over window that he noticed from the outside. Robbie walks over and rests his hand against the door’s surface.

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