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Chapters (206)
  1. Praise for Maplecroft
  2. Title page
  3. Copyright page
  4. Contents
  5. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  6. THESE ARE THE THINGS AN EARTHQUAKE BRINGS
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  12. A DOCTOR, A LAWYER, A MERCHANT, A CHIEF
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  20. Phillip Zollicoffer, Professor of Biology, Miskatonic University
  21. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  26. BE SURE YOUR SINS WILL FIND YOU OUT
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  29. I CROSS THE MAGPIE, THE MAGPIE CROSSES ME
  30. •   •   •
  31. Nance O’Neil
  32. THIS KNOT I KNIT, THIS KNOT I TIE
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  37. AND IF YOU HAVE A HORSE WITH ONE WHITE LEG . . .
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  43. THE WORST IS TO BE JUDGED WITHOUT HOPE
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  46. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  53. BUT NETTLE SHANT HAVE NOTHING
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  55. CUT THEM ON FRIDAY, YOU CUT THEM FOR SORROW
  56. Phillip Zollicoffer, Professor of Biology, Miskatonic University
  57. •   •   •
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  62. HAPPY IS THE CORPSE THAT THE RAIN SHINES ON
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  67. A DWELLING PLACE OF JACKALS, THE DESOLATION FOREVER
  68. Lizzie Andrew Borden
  69. •   •   •
  70. •   •   •
  71. Nance O’Neil
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  84. Emma L. Borden
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  88. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  91. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  93. RIGHT CHEEK, LEFT CHEEK—WHY DO YOU BURN?
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  101. Aaron B. Stewart, Fire Chief, Farthington, Mass.
  102. Emma L. Borden
  103. •   •   •
  104. Gerald Macintyre, Telegraph Clerk, Western Union
  105. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  107. Physalia, Z. University I Was Not Now
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  109. DEPART, ALL ANIMALS WITHOUT BONES
  110. Emma L. Borden
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  115. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  119. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  130. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  131. Phillip Zollicoffer. Physalia Zollicoffris.
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  137. Christoff Dane, M.D., Ph.D., University of Rhode Island, Kingston
  138. •   •   •
  139. Emma L. Borden
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  144. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  150. Emma L. Borden
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  153. FAMILY SLAIN IN MAYFIELD
  154. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  165. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  176. Emma L. Borden
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  186. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  197. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  205. Inspector Simon Wolf
  206. •   •   •

And there’s plenty of fear to go around, even though the denizens of Fall River know nothing about what’s coming, or who’s coming. They have no idea what they’re up against. Neither do I, but knowing what little I do . . . somehow that’s worse. It’d be better, easier, I think, if I only worried about what germ or contagion we fought. It’d be simpler if I did not know that it had a name, and that it wore a man’s face, and it killed more viciously (if more swiftly) than any microbe.

Whatever it is, it comes from the water. I’m confident of that now—as confident as I am that the tetanus pattern is a pattern in fact, and not in theory. Not a perfect one, but a recognizable one. I will cling to that which I recognize. But regardless of what Emma thinks, I do not cling to it without reason or clarity, without evidence. It is there. I know it’s there. I can see it.

That’s why I cling. It gives me a direction, and reinforces my sense of purpose.

Especially now that Nance is gone. Especially now that this Zollicoffer comes closer.

•   •   •

Nance is gone, but that wasn’t the first thing I knew this morning.

The first thing was the express package from Wolf, and the second was that Mrs. Easley down at the dry goods store has taken a pair of scissors and shut herself in the storeroom, and no one has been able to speak with her or open the door—but there was water pouring from underneath it. No pipes had burst, for there were no pipes to fail; no pump was within the store, and no one could explain the flood that poured out from under the doors, and the mist that steamed the windows from within.

I learned this when a neighborhood boy came charging up the steps, right as I was finished reading the news clipping, standing there on my own stoop in a dressing robe and bare feet, stunned and full of questions.

The boy’s name is Arnold, or Arthur, or Allan, or something along those lines. He gasped out that I had to come to Granston’s quick, because Mrs. Easley was infected and she had holed up in the store with a set of shears.

Infected. They now speak of it in terms of illness. As they damned well ought to.