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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
  7. •   •   •
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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
  22. •   •   •
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  26. BE SURE YOUR SINS WILL FIND YOU OUT
  27. •   •   •
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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
  54. •   •   •
  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.
  89. •   •   •
  90. •   •   •
  91. Lizzie Andrew Borden
  92. •   •   •
  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.
  106. •   •   •
  107. Physalia, Z. University I Was Not Now
  108. •   •   •
  109. DEPART, ALL ANIMALS WITHOUT BONES
  110. Emma L. Borden
  111. •   •   •
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  115. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  116. •   •   •
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  119. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  130. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  131. Phillip Zollicoffer. Physalia Zollicoffris.
  132. •   •   •
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  137. Christoff Dane, M.D., Ph.D., University of Rhode Island, Kingston
  138. •   •   •
  139. Emma L. Borden
  140. •   •   •
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  144. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  145. •   •   •
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  150. Emma L. Borden
  151. •   •   •
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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. •   •   •

I patted at my chest for my gun, but it was gone. I’d lost it in the water, or somewhere along the way. “My gun!” I exclaimed, almost tripping at the end of the wooden walkway. I collected myself and arrived at Lizzie’s side as she retrieved her weapon of choice. So one of us was armed, and there was that much on our side.

“When we get back to Maplecroft,” she wheezed, “you can have my father’s.”

“Your father’s?”

“His gun. Liquor cabinet, in the parlor. Top drawer,” she said. She picked up the axe and flipped it expertly, feeling for the familiar move and sway of its weight with more grace and better precision than the most experienced of lumberjacks. It was almost lovely, the way she turned it between her hands—almost divine, how the light sparked off it and bounded back into the sky.

I was wrong. She wasn’t weakened at all.

I do not know what fueled her beyond that point of near death, into vigorous rebellion. Pure willpower? Terror? Curiosity? Oh, but I hoped it was that simple.

She turned to me, and stepped so close that I could feel her breath in the hollow of my throat. Her gaze was dark and deadly, even though her eyes were rheumy and bloodshot, and vomit-water clouded the front of her dress.

She said, “He’s here.”

I nodded. “Let’s go.”

Together, we set off—not at top speed, but at a steady pace. Did I say it was a mile to Maplecroft? A little less than that, I think; but in the dark, after such an evening of exertion, an outright run was more than either of us could manage.

(It’s more than I could’ve managed. I do not know about her, since I do not know what kept her moving. I did not want to consider that she was tainted somehow, too, granted extra strength, or a touch of madness, like the rest of them. I wonder if she wondered it about me. Fine then. We’re all mad, maybe. No one will escape the Problem. Nothing but consensus will have the final say.)

•   •   •

Anyway we hurried as best we could, and as we retreated to the big house I tried to formulate some plan. “When we get there,” I gasped, timing my words between footfalls, trying to lay them down between the crackling, fracturing heavens and all their requisite chatter. “We should . . .”

“Yes?” she said, not looking back. She still outpaced me. She was younger, after all. And I was glad she looked steadier now than when I’d first pulled her from the water; I was no longer certain I could catch her if she fell. I wasn’t sure from one step to the next, for the exhaustion and confusion were at war with my excitement, and I was light-headed from the turbulence of it all.