Blackshear (A Shatter in the Woods #1)

Chapter 1

MACKENZIE

Ashbourne, New York

Iwas eleven the night the FBI came for me.

My house had always smelled wrong at night. For years, it had always smelled rotten.

But the night they came for us, the smell was worse.

My eyes snapped open as soon as I heard the sirens wailing outside.

Blue and red lights pulsed across my bedroom walls.

The air from the window unit buzzed against my face—too cold, and too normal for a night like this. I clutched Clover to my chest, burying my nose in his matted fur. I had him since I was five. He was my good luck charm.

Boom.

Boom.

BOOM.

Heavy boots stomped, the sound echoing through the house like gunfire. I could almost see the thuds in the walls.

I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my hands over my ears.

“Mackenzie,” a whispery voice called. “Mackenzie. Wake up.”

Two hands gripped my shoulders. They shook me until the room fractured into focus.

A man in black sat beside me.

He was so still. Dark hair slicked back like a soldier in a movie. Bold letters stretched across his chest.

F.B.I.

I sounded them out in my head, one by one, like I was learning to read again. I was eleven. I knew how to read. But these letters didn’t make sense.

Fear curled in my stomach, crawling up into my throat.

Then he looked at me, and everything stopped.

I shouldn’t feel safe. He’s a stranger in my room. There was something sweet about his eyes.

He seems nice, I think.

A calmness slid through me. The same feeling I got when I smelled cookies baking in December or stuck my hands in warm laundry straight from the dryer.

“I’m sorry to wake you, little one,” he said, his voice thick and sweet, like honey poured over ice cream. “But we’ve got to go. Now.”

My fingers tightened around Clover.

“Where’s my Mommy?”

“I’m here. I’m right here, baby.”

She stepped from the shadows, eyes wide, face pale. Her shaking hands grabbed mine.

Then I saw the blood.

It streaked across her cheek and forehead, sharp and red, turning her into a monster.

I jerked back. “What’s that?”

My voice sounded sharp and strange.

“We don’t have time for that, honey,” she whispered, her eyes flicking to the man. “This is Agent West. He’s here to help us.”

She glanced over her shoulder, just for a second. The hair on my arms rose like they were listening to something I couldn’t hear.

“Where’s Daddy?”

“That’s not important, sweetheart,” she said gently, brushing her bloody hand over mine as she lifted me out of bed. “Listen to me; we’re going to a warm place, somewhere you’ve never been before. It’ll be fun, okay? A new adventure.”

Her voice was soft, like lullabies and nighttime prayers, but I could hear the fear in it.

I glanced around my room. “But what about all my stuff?” I asked.

Mommy smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You’ll have a new room,” she said softly. “With new toys. Even better ones.”

Agent West leaned forward, arms out. “Want to go for a walk?”

His voice was kind.

I shook my head. “No.”

I didn’t want him to hold me. I didn’t like not understanding. I didn’t know what was happening, and I hated it.

He lifted me anyway.

My body locked up, stiff as a board. Clover was crushed tight against my chest. Mommy trailed beside us, her hand clamped on his sleeve. I could feel the muscle in his arm flex beneath her grip.

Then—

a shout.

It ripped through the house like lightning. Agent West flinched. He let go.

I slipped.

There was nothing to catch. No railing, no floor, no air. I just fell.

My body twisted in the air before I smashed into the steps.

Once.

Twice.

CRACK.

The back of my head slammed into the bottom step. White-hot pain burst through my skull like fireworks gone wrong. I saw them behind my eyelids.

Red, white, blue.

Sound stretched thin, like I was underwater. Everything faded. A faint ringing nestled into my ears, climbing higher, higher, until I wanted to scream just to break it.

Someone was screaming.

Not me.

Mommy.

Her voice cut through the ringing. She sounded wild.

“Mackenzie. Mackenzie!”

She scrambled down the stairs, hands slipping in my blood as she tried to cradle my head. Her fingers shook. She lifted me, stared for a heartbeat, then dragged me against her chest with a sob that sounded like begging.

“No, no—baby, please—please!”

Agent West’s voice broke somewhere above us. “Mackenzie! Oh my God!” He fumbled with a walkie-talkie, shouting into it, “Bobby! I need med now.”

The basement door swung open, and a man in a black cap appeared, rushing toward us with a bag clutched in one hand.

“What happened?” the man in the black cap asked.

Black spots swam around the room like lazy bugs in sunlight. A small white moth buzzed near my ear, landing on the wall. I watched it, waiting for the ringing to stop.

“I dropped her. God, I dropped her!” Agent West shouted. “She hit her head.”

The man knelt beside me, holding up two fingers. “Can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up, sweetheart?”

His voice was thick, round, and warm. The kind of voice that always sounds like it’s smiling, even when it isn’t. He had a mustache. It looked silly. I felt woozy. My thoughts bounced around my skull.

Something on the floor beside me caught the light. It was dark and slick, shining like a puddle after rain.

“Two,” I mumbled, barely moving my lips. My stomach churned. My head burned.

He leaned in, gloved fingers gently brushing behind my head. When he pulled his hand back, it was soaked in red.

Agent West’s face went as white as a ghost.

“Does your head hurt?” the black-capped man asked.

His question pinned me to the floor more than his hand did.

“Yes,” I whispered.

A flashlight flashed across my eyes. I blinked but didn’t turn away.

“Concussion. She probably needs stitches.” His voice was steady, but worry edged it. He turned to Agent West. “You’ve got two minutes before the Butcher’s back. You’re out of time. We got most of the bodies out, but there’s one… It’s going to take us some time to clean up.”

The air had that sharp, coppery smell again. The one that never went away, no matter how hard Daddy tried to clean up his mess.

“I know,” Agent West snapped. “Do you have something? Wrap her up.”

The man nodded. He pulled a towel from his waistband and quickly wrapped it around my head, tying it tight. Blood stained the white like spilled paint.

“Keep pressure on it,” he said to Mommy. “Don’t take it off until you get to the safehouse.”

My eyes fluttered. I really wanted to sleep.

“Okay.” Mommy’s hands shook as she pressed the towel down on my head.

Agent West lifted me again. His hand clamped around my legs so hard it burned. I wanted to cry out, but my voice was gone.

When we reached the car, he set me in the seat. The buckle snapped shut around my waist, the click jolting me awake. I hugged Clover to my chest.

Mommy slid in beside me, pressing the towel to my head. Her arm wrapped around me, pulling me in.

Agent West climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the key. The engine growled.

“Don’t worry, Mackenzie,” Mommy whispered. “You’re going to be okay. We’ll set up your new room exactly how you want.”

My eyes sagged. “Can I have butterflies on my wall…” I was so tired, “…with glitter?”

“Yes. Whatever you want.” Her breath shook when she said it.

I blinked, and the world outside was orange. Flames licked the sky. The snow glowed red. Our house was burning. I tried to speak, but my eyes fell shut.

When I woke, we were still moving. The sky was pale blue. The sun stretched its fingers over the horizon. My head felt heavy.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” I whispered.

Mommy checked the towel. “The bleeding’s stopped,” she told Agent West. “But I’m worried about her walking.”

He flicked the blinker on. “I’ll take her.”

We pulled into a gas station. I reached for the buckle, but Mommy’s hand stopped me.

“Wait. Agent West has to check first.”

Her eyes were everywhere—windows, mirrors, corners. Outside, Agent West circled the car, one hand inside his jacket. He glanced at the empty pump beside us and nodded.

“Okay,” Mommy said. “I’m getting out first.”

She lifted me, struggling, and passed me into Agent West’s strong hands. He held the towel tight as we moved inside. The bell over the gas station door jingled. A slow country song floated through the air.

He carried me to the girls’ bathroom and set me on my feet, steadying me. “Make it fast. I’ll be right here.”

I noticed the blood on my pajamas.

Mommy glanced down, then back at me. She took my hands and made me look at her. “You’re so beautiful, you know that? I love you so much. You don’t have to be scared. We’re safe now.”

When we finished, Agent West scooped me up again. The smell of coffee wrapped around us. My stomach growled.

“I’m hungry,” I murmured.

“We’ll get something in a bit,” Mommy said.

Back in the car, Mommy tucked me close. Agent West returned with donuts. I bit into a chocolate one. It tasted warm and too sweet.

His walkie-talkie crackled, making me jump.

He turned away from us, shoulders stiffening. “We just stopped,” he said. Then, quieter: “Yeah. I see him. I don’t know how they found us so fast.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him.

The man Agent West was talking about.

My shadow.

He stood by the pumps, still as a statue, watching us.

My chest thumped.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

His face looked like Daddy’s, but I knew it wasn’t him. Boots. Black vest. Hat pulled low.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

He stepped closer. Something long and dark glinted in his hands.

CRACK.

The windshield bloomed with white fractures, spider legs racing across the glass.

CRACK.

Another blow.

CRACK.

Three times, and the warm, safe world inside the car shattered.