Devil's Throat (The River Book 6) Read Online Free Page B

when I was driving through town,” Steven
said.
    “A museum? In this tiny town?”
    “It was called the ‘Lost City Museum’,” Steven said. “Looked
open. It’s two minutes down the road.”
    “Sounds like as good a place as any to start,” Roy said,
grabbing his book. “Let’s go.”
    “You’re bringing the book?” Steven asked.
    “I’m sure as hell not leaving it here for Michael to steal!”
Roy said. “I don’t trust that asshole. He’d destroy it out of spite. I’ll keep
it in the trunk while we travel.”
     
    ◊
     
    While the museum was interesting, it didn’t seem to offer
anything to Steven and Roy that helped. As they were leaving, they saw a man
selling maps on a small table in the parking lot. He had a large purple
umbrella propped over the table, held up by a pole sunk into a five gallon drum
of dried concrete.
    “Maps of the area!” he called to them. “Twenty-five cent
donation!”
    Steven looked at Roy. They both shrugged, then walked over to
the man. He had a number of folded pieces of paper on his small table. They all
looked like photocopies.
    “I got all kinds of maps, you name it!” he said. Steven
looked at him. He appeared to be older, with darkly tanned skin and very deep
wrinkles. His nose was a little swollen and red. He had several necklaces
around his neck. There seemed to be a slight odor of crazy about him.
    “We’re looking for unusual places,” Roy said. “Strange
things.”
    “There’s UFOs!” the man said, grabbing a photocopy and
handing it to them. Steven took it and opened it. It appeared to be densely
covered with tiny handwriting, looking like the product of a deranged mind.
There were one or two pictures of UFOs that looked copied out of old sci-fi
comics.
    “Not UFOs,” said Roy. “Strangers. Disappearances. Spooky
stuff. Ghosts, that kind of thing.”
    “Oh,” the man said, “there’s some bad places around here for
that kind of thing. Waaaay bad.”
    “Like?” Roy asked.
    “St. Thomas, for one,” he said, grabbing a photocopy and
handing it to Roy. “They made people leave when the water rose, but that was
just to cover up the place, so it couldn’t keep killing. The Mormons knew,
that’s why they left it! Mormons are very in tune with that kind of thing. Now,
people go out there and don’t come back. If you go, you watch yourself, take
some protection. This map’ll get you there – fifty cent donation!”
    “What do you mean the Mormons left?” Roy asked.
    “They knew!” the old man said, his gaze occasionally drifting
away from Roy’s as he talked. “They all up and moved to Orderville to get away
from it. Horrible, horrible! Since the water’s gone down, the drought and all,
the town is exposed again. You can see the old foundations, as rich and
dripping with evil as the day they were cast. Fifty cents!”
    Steven reached into his pocket and handed the man two quarters.
“You took two,” the old man said, looking at the UFO pamphlet Steven was
holding.
    “Oh,” Steven said, putting it back on the table. “Sorry, don’t
want that one. But we’ll take the St. Thomas map.”
    “What else?” the old man asked. “I got more. Anywhere you
want to go, anything you want to see. Haunted mines. Enchanted ruins. Serial
killer used to live here in town, I got a map to his house. How about some
fishing?”
    “As much as I’d like that,” Roy said, “I’m afraid we’ll have
to pass for now. Come on, Steven.” Roy began walking to the car, the map of St.
Thomas in his hand. When they got back in the car, Steven started it and
cranked the A/C to high.
    “Hold on just a moment,” Steven said, pulling his phone from
his pocket. “I want to check something. See if what he said about St. Thomas is
true.” He pulled up a web browser and began searching for info.
    “I hope you’re not putting any credence in the ramblings of Mr.
Lunatic out there,” Roy said. “The sun has cooked his brain.”
    “St. Thomas,” Steven