Free Broken Angel by Sigmund Brouwer

finding the fugitive to settle them down.
    The Rottweilers, on the other hand, wanted blood. This suited Mason. He wouldn’t even need the excuse of an attempted escape to harvest the girl.
    The girl did not leave the waterfall.
    Mason looked back over his right shoulder, knowing the vidpod would record this. He didn’t turn his head far enough to get both eyes in view. He didn’t like having his drifting left eye on every vidpod in Appalachia.
    “Send the dogs!” Mason ordered.
    The dogs needed no urging. Six of them. Black Rottweilers. Massive shoulders. Bone-snapping jaws. They bolted toward the waterfall, snarling and howling.
    Mason felt a tingle of anticipation as he waited for the screams to come.
    Instead, the snarls and howling faded. Moments later, the dogs emerged and shook water from their hides before dancing around in confused circles at the base of the waterfall.
    Impossible.
Black anger bubbled within him.
How could the girl have escaped?

THIRTEEN
    M rs. Shelton is dead and the books are gone.” Carney spoke to Billy in his usual monotone, staring hard at him.
    “She’s dead!”
    “Dr. Ross did all he could.” There was nothing gentle in Carney’s voice. “We needed her to tell us who she’d been teaching to read. Where she’d gotten the books. We needed those books to send to Bar Elohim so he could understand what was getting loose in Cumberland Gap and tell us how best to protect the flock.”
    Billy kept his eyes on the ground. Yes, he’d failed. When he set the old woman on the ground, she was already unconscious. Must have been from the pills on the bathroom floor. And the fire was too big to contain. Everyone in town knew it was his fault. Most would blame it on how he was raised. Without parents to properly guide him.
    “I’ve got to send an audio file on this to Bar Elohim,” Carney said. “I’m going to make sure that I take part of the blame. Had I foreseen that she was evil enough and unrepentant enough to take her life and destroy her house, I wouldn’t have sent you on your own. You’ll keep your deputy badge.”
    Billy didn’t lift his gaze from the ground. Carney might see his disappointment that he was to remain deputy. Billy hated himself that Mrs. Shelton was dead, and he didn’t want to be burdened with any more responsibilities of a deputy. Other things would go bad too.
    “Still,” Carney said, “I can’t pretend you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re going to be spending nights in the office, watching the livery for me.”
    “Sir?” Billy said.
    “Surveillance camera. Anything happens after curfew, you call me right away. Can you handle that?”
    Billy gave it thought. He could tell Carney didn’t like that, but Billy didn’t want to say he could handle it if there was something about it that would make it difficult for him.
    “Will you let me know where I can call you?”
    “Of course I’ll let you know where I am,” Carney snapped. “That goes without saying.”
    Billy wished, as usual, that he knew what went without saying and what didn’t.
    “All night?” Billy asked.
    “Unless you think there’s a particular time that the building doesn’t need watching.”
    That perplexed Billy.
    Carney sighed. “Of course, all night.”
    “By myself?”
    “It only takes one person to watch a computer screen.”
    “Um, sir,” Billy paused again in thought. At church, when the sermon was boring or confusing, Billy usually fought off sleep. Not always successfully. He didn’t want to promise he could stay up all night if he’d end up breaking his word. “I don’t know if I can stay awake that long.”
    Carney started to form furrows in his forehead, the way he did whenever he broke out of his monotone in anger. Then, strangely, he smiled.
    “Sometimes,” Carney said, “I guess it pays to think things through. There’s a cot in one of the empty jail cells. Get some sleep. All afternoon if you need it.”
    “That would help a lot,