The Golem of Hollywood by Jonathan Kellerman Page B

above. That’s not the interesting part, though. I took tissue from the head and snuck into the Coroner’s lab to extract DNA and run it through CODIS. I wasn’t expecting much, but I wanted to be thorough. It’s your lucky day, Detective. You’re familiar with the Night Creeper, I presume.”
    Certainly he was.
    â€œWell, you’ve got him. Or, rather, his head. Or, rather, I do. In my freezer.”
    Jacob, dumbstruck, watched her give a shallow curtsy.
    â€œTa-da,” shesaid.

THE LAND OFNOD
    O n the morning of Asham’s departure, her father again tries to dissuade her.
    â€œYou’ll never find them.”
    â€œI won’t if I stay,” Asham says.
    Eve mumbles to herself.
    â€œOur place is here,” Adam says, gesturing to the valley walls. “You have no right to leave. Seeking knowledge that isn’t yours is the source of all evil. There’s no worse sin.”
    â€œYou think?” Asham says. “I can come up with a few.”
    â€œHe’s right,” Yaffa says. “Please.”
    Asham looks at her ruined sister. Her golden hair has turned to weeds; blue veins worm across her face. She has refused to cast off her widow’s garb, refused to work, spending her days cross-legged on the dirt floor, picking listlessly at the skin on her hands.
    With Cain fled, and Nava gone with him, the burdens have fallen heavily upon Asham, leaving her to draw the water, cut the firewood, gather the food and cook it; leaving her to grit her teeth while Yaffa keens.
    Where is my beloved?
    Where is his vengeance?
    Asham wants to shake her.
    Your beloved is gone.
    His vengeance is yours for the taking.
    But it requires that you stop crying.
    It requires that you stand up, and act.
    Asham says, “You don’t know what’s out there.”
    â€œThat’s the point,” Adam says. “And if you do find them? How many must I lose?”
    â€œIt’s justice.”
    â€œJustice is the Lord’s to dispense, not yours.”
    â€œTell that to your dead son,” she says.
    He slaps her.
    In the silence, Eve’s murmuring is like a shout.
    Yaffa says, “You don’t need to go. I don’t want you to hurt him.”
    â€œWhat hardness is in you,” Adam says, “that you cannot forgive when she can?”
    Asham, remembering the scream of an unbodied soul, says, “She wasn’t there.”
    â€”
    S HE CARRIES LITTLE . Spare sandals; a blanket of wool and another of flax; a small gourd; a slaughtering stone.
    All products of Cain’s ingenuity.
    She could not pursue him without his help.
    Knowing that they cannot be without a source of fresh water, she follows the river upstream, away from the family’s sheltered nook in the shadow of the Mountain of Consideration. The next morning she arrives at a sharp bend, the farthest boundary of their cultivation. Past that, their father has said, it is forbidden for man to venture—forbidden to think about venturing.
    She remembers a day long ago, standing beside Cain, staring at the opposite bank.
    How can a thought be forbidden?
    He will have exploited superstition.
    In his position, she would do the same.
    She wades to the other side.
    The valley winds, narrows, widens again. Hacked vines scabbed with dried sap point the way, and she seeks blackened patches—the remnants of campfires, each of which represents a day of their progress. Behind her, smoke threads from the top of the Mountain of Consideration,which shrinks and drops below the horizon. Vegetation rushes in unchecked. The land’s cheery face slackens to indifference and then to a hostile frown. Even the wildflowers appear malignant and overbright. Strange animals stare, unblinking, unafraid. Distant shrieks steal her breath. Skeletons, picked clean, hurry her on.
    When Asham was a girl, her parents talked about the hideous fate that awaited anyone who strayed too far. Unimaginable cold, rivers