I need to talk to her. There’s no romance or wish to sleep with her. Just talk. That’s all. I don’t know why, but the need keeps growing until I have to call out.
When she turns, her eyes capture me immediately. They’re the color of the sky before a storm, deep-gray and flecked with the last traces of pure blue. There’s an innocent quality in the smile that starts to form but doesn’t quite finish before her gaze flickers to something behind me. Her eyes fly open in terror before she turns and races up through the field that borders the lake.
I look over my shoulder to see what spooked her just when it looked like I’d get to meet her. It’s darkness, a shadow figure that follows my every step. A rumbling noise from its throat becomes louder and louder...
My eyes fly open at the throbbing drone in the air. Chilling dampness seeps through my body and a wall of gray rock hulks close to my face. I jerk, bolting up and looking around at the green lawn and street next to it.
It comes to me gradually. The church. I’m in a strange town with not even twenty dollars to my name, sleeping outdoors.
It seems like I only just fell asleep, lost in a dream of some girl at a lake. Even though I’m tired, there’s no way I can stay here much longer. The drone that woke me is actually a lawnmower pushed by an elderly man on the patch of grass next to the church’s front step. I shove the sweatshirt I used as a blanket back into my makeshift pillow—the duffel bag—and creak up to my feet. My body aches in places I never knew I had from laying on the cold ground.
After finger-combing my hair to some sort of order, I shoulder the strap of the bag and make for the street. The sun peeks through the leaves of stately oak trees, and from the angle of the light, it’s probably around eight in the morning. The air is so clear and fresh, and the day already so warm that it makes all that happened yesterday surreal. It’s like it happened to another person.
And that dream had been so peaceful. Up until that part with the shadow behind me, plunging me back down to earth with a thud. Even in my dreams I’m not free of it.
Pushing the door open of a small mom-and-pop diner, the aroma of coffee brewing, and bacon and toast is sweet torture. I take a booth next to the plate-glass window for a better view down the rest of the main street.
“Morning. Would you like a coffee to start?” It’s already a foregone conclusion as the middle-aged woman sets the mug down and hands me a menu.
“Yes. Please. I don’t need a menu. I’ll have bacon, eggs over easy and whole wheat toast.” I hold the mug up for her to pour me a cup. The woman has been doing this job for eons, never missing a beat as she pours and scoops the menu up again.
“You new in town or just visiting?” Her smile is genuine and really welcoming, a ray of sunshine that makes me feel better about coming to this place.
“I’m new. I just got in last night. Know any place that’s hiring extra help? I’ll take pretty much anything. Delivery, dishwasher, cleaner.” But from the way her smile falters, she’s coming up blank.
“Sorry. Tourist season heats up next month. There’ll be lots of openings then.” She starts to walk away but pauses. “Leave your name and number, and if I hear of anything I’ll call you.”
Not having a cell phone is going to be difficult. “That’s okay. Just thought I’d ask.” I drain the cup and then head to the bathroom.
As I’m washing my hands at the sink I glance into the mirror and my gut drops. It’s back. That same darkness I saw in the bar that night is here surrounding me again. And what makes it worse is that I saw it in the dream of the girl walking next to the lake. A strange sensation quivers through my body.
That dream of the girl next to the lake is a premonition. She’s here in Saranac Lake and so is the demon.
I was meant to come here.
The pieces of this nightmare puzzle fall into place. Doug was the one who didn’t fit when I tried to figure this out last night. But with his death I have to leave Watertown. It is no coincidence that I am unable to get the bus to New York City. It was never part of the plan.
This thought does nothing to give me any peace of mind.
***
When I finish my breakfast in the diner I spy a Goodwill store across the street halfway down the block. If I have to sleep on the grounds of the church I might as well get something waterproof to put between me and the earth. It may be days before I’m able to get enough cash to afford a roof over my head.
And if I can’t find work, there’s always panhandling.
Wouldn’t Mom and Dad be proud?
But there’s no way I’m leaving this town. This predicament with that entity has to stop. It wants me here, so here is where I’ll fight it off or die trying. One thing I know for sure. The killing of innocent people has got to stop. And if it takes staying here to accomplish that, I’ll do it.
I cross the street to go into the Goodwill store, but a rare sight brings me to an abrupt halt. A silver aura surrounds the old lady who comes out of the store. I’ve only ever seen one other person with that kind of pure energy.
The old woman has the identical aura as my nana. I don’t even need to do my sidey-eyes to see it, it’s so powerful.
She spots me, and her dark eyes grow wide in fear. She steps back, letting the shopping bag fall to the sidewalk. She speaks in a low voice while raising her hands, her forefinger and pinky pointing at me to ward off evil.
She sees it! She knows all about this abomination shadowing me! Of course. This woman is highly gifted in the psychic realm. She practically glows with it. She can help me. And I desperately need help fighting this thing.
“Please. I need your help. You can actually see it.” I take a step toward her but she rushes down the street, faster than I would have thought, given her age.
She looks over her shoulder and pulls the dark sweater tighter to her throat. “No! Leave me alone.” Grabbing the handle of a rusty, gray car, she almost falls over herself getting in. The car roars to life and lurches out onto the street.
I watch her drive away until she disappears around a corner. The fear on her face, and her actions tell me that this thing is even more dangerous than I thought. If it scared the hell out of her, what chance do I have?
I pick up the bag that she abandoned. The imprint she’s left is strong and I see her house, little more than a cottage really, in the country. There’s a lake not far from it.
This woman can help me. Maybe she’s the only one who can. I start walking in the direction she went. I’ve got to reach her.
FOURTEEN
‘SHE CAN’T STOP ME. ALTHOUGH IT WILL BE FUN SEEING HER DIE TRYING.’
My back stiffens at the insidious voice in my head. It’s been silent for so long that it’s jarring hearing its whispered words. I continue walking steadily down the road, ignoring the thundering beat of my heart. The fact that it’s only now chosen to speak confirms that I’ve made the right decision.
Squaring my shoulders back, I even manage to sound calm. “You can’t overpower her. Unlike the other innocent people you slaughtered, the old lady recognized you. She knows about you and that makes you nervous.” Saying the words out loud strengthens my conviction. I sense the thing squirming, becoming more agitated.
‘I’ve met her kind before. Trust me. It never worked out well for them. Her blood will be on your hands, Adam. Do you really want more death?’
“Just my own if that’s what it takes to be rid of you.” At the sound of a vehicle coming down the road behind me I turn to face it. A black truck, the first vehicle that’s come down this road in almost an hour barrels down the road, kicking up a rooster tail of dust. I go to the side of the road watching it close the gap between us.
“You waited a long time for someone as gifted as me. And then waited till I was old enough for you to fully exploit. Do you really want to threaten any more people when all it would take is stepping in front of this truck? I’ll finish this for once and for all!”
Detached peace fills my mind. Which
surprises me on another level as I watch the truck getting closer and closer.
In a few more seconds I could be dead! But the nightmare my life has become would be over. I wouldn’t be responsible for any other person dying. I couldn’t live with myself if that happened again.
I watch it get closer, the roar of the engine filling my ears. Just one step onto the road and...
‘Fine! I won’t kill anyone!’ The rage in its bellow sends a shooting pain through my head.
A couple seconds later the truck whizzes by making my hair swoosh up. The young man behind the wheel doesn’t even look at me as he passes, totally clueless how close he was to becoming involved in my death. I’m glad for his sake that he wasn’t.
My eyes close and my legs almost give out from under me. Now that the adrenaline spike in my body has evaporated my legs turn to rubber and I’m kind of giddy.
I tug the strap of my duffel bag higher and stagger a little walking down the country road. The mountain air has a clean freshness that I didn’t notice before. The grass and trees look greener. The sky, mottled with wispy clouds, seems closer. Even though my knees are kind of wobbly, I’m aware of my heartbeat, the blood coursing through my veins and... What the hell? There’s a little tingle and fullness in my groin now that the danger to my body has passed.
And there’s blessed silence in my mind. No doubt the thing is sulking like a spoiled child. But it worked. It knew I would have done it, kill myself, and it wants me alive. Good to know.
The road disappears behind a bend in the road. For all the pretty countryside with the lake nearby, there aren’t that many houses out this way. I only passed one in the last hour of walking. When I round the curve I see it. The old lady’s house with the gray car parked in the driveway. The clapboard house is only one story with a veranda out front that runs the length of it. There’s a shed outbuilding, to the side, and her whole front yard is transformed into neat rows of sprouting vegetables.
I turn in and walk up the dirt drive, past the old car. As I’m about to step up onto the bottom stair of her veranda, it’s like my foot hits an invisible wall. I’m barely able to keep my balance, arms windmilling to the sides.
The door opens, and the old lady stands there. Her eyes narrow. “I told you to stay away from me.” Again she is doing that thing with her fingers. Even though she’s doing it to ward off the evil that clings to me, I’ve seen rock stars make that same gesture to ‘rock on’.
I chuckle at the weird random thoughts popping into my head. Maybe I really am losing it. Shit, I just about committed suicide, didn’t I?
I take a deep breath before I speak. “I’m in trouble, lady. I know you can see this thing, this evil entity that’s attached itself to me. But I’m innocent. I didn’t ask for this.” The last few words are a mere whisper. From the hard defensive look in her gaze this isn’t working. I fight the tears stinging the back of my eyes. If she doesn’t help me, I’m done for.
She steps closer but her hand never lowers. Her eyes are mere slits examining not only my sad state of dress but the darkness that is inside me. “Adam. The first man. He had trouble with a demon too.”
“Yeah. I’m Adam Rafferty, Mrs. Kovacs. But as for that biblical story and my name, just coincidence, I guess.” She’s not the only one who can pick up information just by a look.
“There is no such thing as coincidence, boy. And this thing... this evil spirit is strong. I’m old. I’ve seen it before and I can’t help you. I’m sorry.” She backs away, never dropping her gaze. Her hand clutches the side of the door as she takes another step to go back inside.
“No! You have to help me! You know how to banish it.” I lurch forward but it’s like hitting a wall that bounces me back onto my ass on her walkway. I look up at her framed in the doorway, her aura of silver light now contains threads of purple. Hope rises in my chest at that trace of compassion evident in her color now.
“You keep your distance.” She’s still standing there watching me closely. A sly smile forms on her wizened lips. “You don’t have much choice in that. I’ve made sure of it. You will not enter my home.”
It’s then that I notice the barrier that’s been keeping me at bay. It’s a wavering shimmer that extends from the bottom step of her house to the roof. It’s what forced me back, powerful enough that I landed on my ass. “How did you do that? Teach me. If you can do this, prevent this thing inside me from entering your home, you can help me. I’m innocent. I just want this gone!”
“It isn’t that simple, Adam. You know what this thing is capable of. The blood of three innocent people cry out to me, yet I can’t risk helping them, let alone you.” She starts to close the door, looking down at her feet.
I was wrong about her. What I saw as compassion was only relief that her defenses were holding.
Tears fall down my cheeks as the door closes and she’s gone. “I’m not leaving! I don’t have anywhere else to go. You said you’ve seen this thing before. What is it? What does it want from me?” But silence and a closed door are the only answer.
I sink to my knees, totally racked with despair and sorrow—for Cynthia, for Lisa, and for Doug. And also for myself. My last hope of getting rid of this thing just closed the door on me. Tears and snot fall onto the old lady’s muddy walkway.
‘Told ya. I’m more powerful than that old bat. At least she’s smart enough to realize it.’
I slump down even lower. If the earth would open and swallow me up, it might be a blessing. “What do you want from me? I’ll do anything. No killing, but whatever it takes if you’ll just leave me alone. I can’t take much more of this.”
The chuckle that oozes from its maw sends a shiver down my spine. What am I agreeing to? I feel like I’ve sold my soul to the devil. A wicked she-beast that marked me for her own when I was twelve.
***
The sun is low in the sky by the time I pull myself up. The long walk out here carrying this burden of guilt and horror has left me weak. I wander over to the garden and pluck some snow peas from the vine. A glance at the house shows no sign of life. I may not be able to cross her threshold but neither can she hide in there forever. I know she’s in the shadows of the house watching me.
I strip the vines of all the fleshy peas, the only thing that’s ripe, and then make a show of eating them. I don’t even like peas, but it’s been a long time since breakfast at the diner. I stare right back at the old lady. There. Take that. I’ve robbed you of all your precious peas. And I know just by touching the leaves and stems that she’s put not only back-breaking work into this garden but there’s a little of her soul here as well. This garden sustains and nourishes her in return for her loving care.
‘That’s the spirit, Adam. That’ll hurt the old bat, right in the bread basket. There’s hope for you yet.’
“SHUT UP!” The echo reverberates through the air, and I know the vein in my forehead bulges just like my mom’s when she’s pissed. Thinking of my family fills me with more rage. I’m never going to see any of them again, and I have this ‘thing’ to thank for that.
And it still hasn’t let me in on its plans, what it wants from me. I’m like a marionette, and it’s holding the strings unless that old lady will relent and help me.
I wander across her yard to the back where there’s a shed, leaning a little to the side. Poking my head inside the smell of camphor and earth fill my nose. At least she didn’t put that spell on this place and it’s better than sleeping outside. Especially being this far out in the country with woods bordering the property. God knows what kinds of animals live in there, maybe bears or wolves or something equally nasty.
I shove the wheelbarrow and garden tools to the side wall making a small space on the dirt floor for me to sleep. The light is beginning to fade and I’d better get that out of the way before it’s completely black. There aren’t any streetlights and her house is too far away to shed much light from the windows.
But if I’m back here, what’s stopping her from
running out to the car and hightailing it out of here? I finish emptying my knapsack and even the old lady’s goodwill bag. There’s just a sweater and a pair of rubber rain boots in it.
Then I leave the musty shed to take up my vigil on her walkway again. I’m not leaving and neither is she. The air has turned damp and chilly, and I pull the sides of my jean jacket tighter together. The smell of woodsmoke catches my attention and I look up at her roof. A thin tendril of gray smoke floats up from her chimney.
She’s inside nice and warm, probably filled with a hot meal while I sit out here with a belly full of peas rumbling around painfully in my bowels.
Nice.
I race to the edge of the woods, barely getting my pants down in time. It seems her fresh produce has had its revenge on me. Reduced to shitting in the woods like an animal.
FIFTEEN
WHEN I EMERGE FROM THE SHED AFTER A RESTLESS NIGHT from the bugs crawling over my neck and face, I can barely believe my eyes. On the mammoth tree stump behind the house is a muffin and a red thermos. The old lady, Mrs. Kovacs left this for me? Chocolate chips melt in my mouth when I take a bite, My fingers are still kind of numb as I remove the top of the thermos and wash the muffin down with hot tea. It’s manna from heaven, fallen from a clear blue sky, the sun well above the horizon.
Haunted By The Succubus Page 8