He pocketed his phone, frustration growing. He couldn’t let them leave yet. Parrish had been more than his prophet; he’d been a friend.

Cowards. If he didn’t act, the patriots here would also abandon the cause.

And he’d let them…after they did one last thing for the Prophet.

His voice came out as hard and cold as the glaciers on the mountain peaks. “My people, one woman caused the disasters that have happened. One disloyal, unnatural slut. She’s probably laughing at what she’s accomplished. Laughing at us.”

The angry expressions around him mirrored his own. “She must pay for what she’s done.”

Their faith called for vengeance. For action.

For blood and death.

On Wednesday, Hawk drove into town, still out of sorts. Nightmares had kept him awake, then he’d spent the morning and afternoon in his floatplane, and nothing had gone right. Landing on a lake, he’d almost run into a submerged log. He’d flown a guy and his injured dog out and to a veterinarian, and the poor lab’s pained whining had twisted Hawk’s gut. Then two climbers showed up an hour late, and he’d had to throttle his anger and remind himself that strangling customers might have consequences.

Pity, that.

Now, despite his plan to avoid Kit and Aric until he found the right words to tell her his decision, he’d been railroaded into this task. The Hermitage gang were grilling the salmon Audrey and Gabe had caught early this morning. Since Hawk wasn’t cooking, JJ had asked him to pick up the kids at summer school.

He sighed, pulled over to the gravel shoulder, and parked his pickup in front of the pair of clapboard buildings. After a landslide destroyed the school last winter, Bull loaned out a couple of houses Mako had owned for the spring semester classes. One of the teachers was using a building for her informal “summer school” and an older-child day care.

Inside, Hawk headed for the dining room, which served as the daycare for preschool-aged children. A batch of short tables and chairs filled one end. Stick-figure-type artwork—like the pictures on his fridge—covered a corkboard wall.

At least half a dozen rugrats darted around the room like bats in a mosquito-rich environment.

“Hey, Hawk,” Erica called from where she was putting shoes on a little boy. Her mother was the teacher responsible for this zoo. According to Knox, the young woman had recently dropped out of college to consider her career choices.

Hawk nodded to her.

“I heard you’re picking up Aric today. He’s in the reading circle.” Erica motioned to a corner with a round, bright red rug and green beanbag chairs.

Yeah, there was Aric in a chair, immersed in a picture book.

Hawk started across the room and paused to admire the clay animals on a table. Some of the kids had done damn clever work.