King Me

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King Me Page 23

by Season Vining


  “Great,” I mumble.

  “I’ll take us around to the back side of the island. He’ll never see us.”

  It seems to take forever to get to that island. But the light slowly grows closer and closer and then it is to our left as we circle wide around the island. I strain my eyes, but see no movement on the dock from here. Of course, that doesn’t mean that no one is there.

  When we finally hit land, Marie jumps out and pulls the boat inland as much as she can. King and I climb out and we all move the boat inside the tree line, hiding it beneath a thick group of bushes.

  Now that the sun has set and we are in the cover of trees, it is even darker. King pulls a flashlight from his pocket and turns it on.

  “Okay,” he says. “We move quickly and quietly. If I turn the flashlight off, that means for y’all to just stop moving.”

  “How do we know which way to go?” I ask.

  It’s then that the soft, rhythmic beat of a drum sounds through the trees. My heart leaps into my throat and I grab King’s hand. “They’ve started,” I say.

  “We just follow that,” Marie says, heading off into the darkness.

  King and I follow her. The both of them seem to be experts at walking through the woods in the dark and not making a sound. Meanwhile, I trip over every tree root in our path and walk into two trees. King checks on me often, only staying a few steps ahead of me, but Marie seems to be set on her mission. She navigates her way blindly and with precision.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out to see Officer Zander’s name on the display screen. Sending it to voicemail, I tuck my phone back into my pocket and ignore it completely when it vibrates again.

  The drums grow louder as we walk and eventually, we can see light through the trees. King turns off the flashlight and we all stand next to each other, staring into the glow divided by thin and thick lines of trees.

  “Let’s move,” King says. His voice is just a whisper in my ear. I nod to let him know I heard him, loud and clear.

  My heart thumps in time with the drums, beating against my chest. The huge bonfire pops and crackles, sending flames into the sky above the tree line. The three of us move counterclockwise around the opening in the trees so that we can see on the other side of the fire. Our steps are quick because we know time is against us.

  When I first see Olivia, I suck in a gasp before slapping a hand over my mouth. She looks so tiny sitting on that giant tree stump. Her blonde hair glows white in the firelight. I search the opening and see two men beating drums. They are closer to the fire than the girl.

  There are cages with chickens around the tree stump and a goat tethered to a tree. A tall woman stands halfway between the fire and the girl. She has the book open and is reading from it. An enormous machete knife hangs from her belt and the sight of it sends a wave of nausea through me, settling like a boulder in my stomach. King points to the far left and we find Andre, Marie’s uncle, and another man standing on the outermost edge of the circle, almost in the dark.

  “Do you recognize her?” King asks.

  “No,” Marie says. “I don’t think she’s a local. We need a distraction,” Marie says. “Only three of us, five of them—probably one at the dock too.”

  “I thought of that,” King says. He unzips a pocket on his vest and pulls out a handful of small firecrackers. “I’ll go around to the other side and light these up. They’ll have to send someone to come check it out, so at least I’ll draw a couple of them away.”

  “And what will you do when they find you?” I ask, wringing my hands together.

  “They won’t,” King says. “I’ll keep moving away from here and away from the dock. Then, I’ll circle back around.” Marie and I stare at his face, barely visible in the firelight. “It’s now or never ladies.”

  “He’s right,” I say. “Okay,” I lift my hand to his face and place a kiss on his lips. “You go. We’ll get the girl. Please, be careful.” Within seconds, King has disappeared into the blackness of the trees and I try to push away the sick feeling that I’ll never see him again.

  “Let’s move closer,” I tell Marie. “That way when King makes his move, we’ll be ready to go in.”

  The two of us hold hands and make our way to the side of the ring of trees. My phone vibrates against my leg again, but there’s no time to deal with that. We are as close as we can get without being seen, having a direct path to Olivia. Now that we can see more, it doesn’t look like Olivia is restrained in any way. But still, the girl sits with her legs crossed, head down and unmoving.

  Suddenly, the drums stop and the woman with the book raises it above her head, shouting one more line in a foreign language before closing it.

  POP. POP. POP.

  The sound grabs everyone’s attention and they all look off into the direction of King and his firecrackers. The drummers stand, but the woman shakes her head.

  “We must continue,” she shouts. With a wave of her hand, Andre and the other man run off into the woods in search of King. She places the book on the ground and removes the large blade from her belt. The woman moves toward Olivia with the knife behind her back. She says something to the girl, too low for us to hear.

  I look to Marie, our eyes meeting and a silent understanding passes between us. Without thought, we both take off running toward the circle of trees. Our steps are somehow silent, or at least I can’t hear them above the hard pulse pounding in my ears.

  The woman doesn’t see us until we’re right on top of her. I hear the two drummers shout, but keep my focus on Olivia. Out of my periphery I see Marie tackle the woman to the ground. My feet pump faster and I throw myself up onto the stump.

  “Olivia? Hey, baby girl. Your momma sent me to get you.”

  Her head finally lifts, her big blue eyes are glassy and unfocused. “Momma?” she rasps.

  “Yes, sweetie. Can you come with me?”

  I hear a grunt from Marie and more shouting from the woods, but try to block it out. Olivia raises her arms and I pick her up. I turn with the girl in my arms, just in time to see the woman pin Marie to the ground. She lifts the machete high above her head and swings.

  I let out a scream so loud I don’t even realize it’s coming from me until I run out of breath. Olivia starts to cry now and I stand there motionless as blood pours from Marie’s ribcage, pooling in the dirt around her. When the woman raises her gaze to mine, I remember to run.

  I jump from the stump and take off toward the trees, my adrenaline pushing me hard and fast. Placing one hand over Olivia’s head, I crush her to my body. I hear footsteps behind me growing closer and closer. And then another round of firecrackers from King, off in the distance, makes my insides rattle.

  Out of nowhere, something hits me hard from my left side. I hit the ground hard, my head smacking against a tree, and just before everything goes black, I hear Olivia’s sweet voice whimper into my ear.

  The pain in my head is throbbing. There’s a sharp stabbing sensation behind my eyes. I groan and try to raise my hands to my head. The movement is stopped short when my hands stop mid-air. I blink my eyes open and find that they are tied together and nailed into the tree stump.

  I scramble up, my head dizzy and spinning, and pull on the ropes, but they don’t budge.

  “Calm down,” a voice says from beside me. I turn my head to find Gable standing there, one side of his profile lit by the giant bonfire and the other cast in shadow. He looks like he’s split right down the middle.

  “You? Why?” I ask. I squeeze my eyes shut against the pain and reopen them to find him a few steps closer.

  “Because you, Delaney Mills, are the key to everything,” Gable says.

  “What?” I shake my head and try to stay upright on the stump. My eyes scan the area and I find Marie lying lifeless on the ground. A dark pool of her own blood surrounds her body. I let out a sob and look away, unable to see her face and lifeless eyes staring up at a starry sky. “Where’s Olivia?” I ask, yanking on the ro
pes again.

  “We didn’t need her, but she’s safe,” Gable says. His tone is cold and even, it lifts the hairs on the back of my neck. “The ritual calls for innocent blood to be spilled. But even better is sacrificing someone who has spilled innocent blood.” Gable steps forward, he takes my chin in his hand and lifts it toward his face. “Once I heard your confession, I knew you were perfect.”

  “No,” I whisper.

  “Yes,” says a voice from behind me. It is the woman from before, the one who killed Marie. “Gable was more than convinced you’d show up if we took the girl.” She walks past the stump and turns to face me, her silhouette highlighted by the roaring fire. “And he was right. He will be rewarded.”

  My eyes fall to the ground where I find the caged animals laid out and sacrificed already. My mind races, trying to work out what happens now.

  “That’s right,” the woman says, “You’re next. Then the ritual is complete. And I will invoke Bondye himself.”

  I get to my knees and pull on the ropes tethering me to the stump again. They don’t budge at all. My eyes search the tree line for King, but I find nothing. The drummers are gone. Andre and the other man are gone as well.

  “King?” I ask, closing my eyes and waiting for the worst.

  “We haven’t found him yet,” the woman says. “But we will.”

  Her long robes sweep the ground and as she steps over Marie, they drag through the blood there. Her bare feet move past the dead roosters, pigs, and goats until she is standing directly before me. Her skin is flawless, high cheekbones and dark eyes that cut through me.

  “You look familiar,” I say, trying to buy some time.

  “I am Ma’man Brigitte, mother of cemeteries, ruler of money and death,” she says. A sinister grin splits her face in half and she nods once. “I look like my father, Papa Voodoo.”

  I fall back onto the stump, the breath knocked from my body. “You killed your own parents? For what? For the sake of a ritual?” I yell at her. Tears fill my eyes, blurring my vision, until I blink them away.

  “Enough talk,” Brigitte says. “It’s time to end this.”

  “No!” I shout. “Wait!”

  Brigitte ignores me and raises the machete above her head. She lifts her eyes to the sky. “Mwen priye pou mande Bondye. Se pou li viv nan mwen.”

  Everyone says the moment you know death is coming for you, you feel at peace. This is not the case. I feel panic and regret. I feel that I have failed my friend, my love, and that little girl. I feel that I will die here tonight and my mother may never know what happened to me. This is not how I want my story to end.

  As Brigitte brings her blade down, I throw myself backwards off the stump. My knees are on the ground with my arms stretched as far as they will go, the rope pulled tight. The knife lands with a loud thwack into the wood, cutting the rope tying me down.

  Brigitte pulls at the knife, but it is stuck in the stump. I get to my feet and run at her, pushing her to the ground. I’ve never hit anyone in my life, but the fear and anger fly free, connecting my fist with her face. I do it again as I straddle her chest. She spits blood from her mouth and gives me a crimson smile.

  “I like the fight in you,” she spits.

  Gable grabs my shoulders and pulls me from Brigitte. I kick at his shins and though I land a few hits, he doesn’t let go.

  “Hold still and this will be quick,” he whispers with his lips pressed against my ear. Gable’s hand slides around my body, over my stomach, and up to my breast. His large palm squeezes hard as me pulls me against himself. “Hmm, last time we were in this position, you weren’t quite so feisty.”

  “Fuck you!” I shout. I throw my head back. My skull connects with the bridge of his nose and I hear the crunching sound as it breaks. He screams and shoves me to the ground.

  I scramble to my feet to find blood pouring from Gable’s face, passing through his fingers. It runs down his arms like red wax dripping from a candle. Drops dot the ground around us. I turn to find Brigitte coming at me. Instead of facing her, I turn toward the stump and race there. I climb on top and wrap both hands around the handle of the machete.

  I pull and pull, trying to free it, but it won’t budge. Finally, I plant my feet, let out a primal scream and throw all of my remaining strength into it. The knife comes free and I fall back off the stump, hitting the ground with a thump.

  Brigitte is on top of me in no time. She pins my wrist against the ground, trying to uncurl my fingers from the weapon’s handle. I buck my hips to get her off of me. After the second attempt, she finally loses her balance and falls sideways. We are still connected by the machete, each of us trying to maintain control.

  I’m up on my feet now and she’s quick to follow. I push the blade toward her as she thrusts it at me and it is a battle that will end when one of us tires out. I feel the ache and burn in my shoulder and biceps and fear that I am close to losing. My arm shakes as I growl at her, my other hand grabbing onto her shoulder for some kind of leverage.

  I feel her strength waver and recognize the opportunity. I throw everything I have against her. Brigitte steps backwards. She trips over Marie’s body and goes down. I fall on top of her, the blade between us, and cringe when I feel the machete pierce her chest.

  Brigitte’s evil flesh gives way and she gasps, trying to suck in breaths through what I assume are punctured lungs. I haul myself up and do nothing to end her suffering. My eyes search the circle and I find Gable unconscious on the ground near the bonfire. King stands over him, his chest heaving.

  “King!” I yell, and run toward him. I throw myself into his arms and he crushes me to his chest. “I didn’t know where you were or if I’d ever see you again.”

  “God, Laney. I was so scared you’d be dead by the time I made it back here.” His eyes scan the area. “Marie?” he asks, his face falling.

  “She’s gone, King. I’m sorry.” I wipe a tear from my cheek as he kisses the top of my head. I squeeze King tighter and he grunts. Stepping back, I finally notice that he’s been through the wringer. His face is cut and bleeding, bruises are forming on his neck. He runs his hand across his chest. “I think I’ve got some broken ribs,” he says.

  King steps to Marie’s body and kneels next to her. He whispers a prayer over her body and gently closes her eyes before standing again.

  “Where’s the girl?” I ask. “Where’s Olivia?”

  “I thought you had her,” he says.

  “Shit!” I spin in a circle, finding nothing, no one. “Olivia! Olivia!” I shout as loud as I can.

  King joins me, his voice carries much farther than mine. We yell and then listen, yell and listen, making our way around the circle. Finally, behind the fire, we hear an answer. It’s weak, but unmistakable.

  King and I dash into the tree line, into the darkness and find her bound to a tree. I drop to my knees in front of her and push her blonde curls from her face.

  “Hi, Olivia. Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”

  She presses her lips together and looks back and forth between King and I before shaking her head no. “Okay, we’re going to get you out of here and back to your momma. Is that okay?”

  She nods, her lips quivering. Tears fall from her eyes as King unties the rope and frees her. I pick her up again and hold her to my chest. “It’s okay, baby girl. We’ve got you now. You’re safe.”

  22

  “I HAVE ANDRE AND his sidekick handcuffed to each other and around a tree, so they’re not going anywhere. The two drummers took off toward the dock when I found them in the woods,” King says, shining his flashlight on the ground in front us and pulling a low-hanging branch out of our way. Olivia’s tiny hands hold tight around my neck. “I chased them, but they were on the boat and pulling away when I made it to the dock.”

  “What did you do then?” I ask, hiking Olivia up onto my hip for support. My arms are exhausted, but I will not let her go until she is back with her mother.

  “I called the police
,” King says. I stop walking and stare at him. King shrugs. “Detective Zander to be exact. I figured we could use the help and it was too late for them to stop us. But they could stop these guys.”

  “Good thinking,” I say, huffing as I hold Olivia to my aching chest.

  “He said he’s been trying to reach you. They searched Andre’s apartment and found tons of photos of you, some with strange markings on them. Probably hexes,” King says.

  A shiver runs down my body. “Damn.”

  We continue walking for a few minutes and finally reach the shore. “Then I called Emma and left a voicemail that we found Olivia,” he says. “I told her where we were. I wasn’t certain. But I figured if the worst happened, she’d want to know where we all were. And I knew if we did get out of this, she’d want to see her daughter.”

  Though I can tell he is in a lot of pain, King doesn’t let me help drag the boat to the shore. He does it alone and then helps me and Olivia into the canoe. I sit with the girl and squeeze her tight as King pushes off and hops in.

  My eyes have adjusted to the dark and the moon is just bright enough to see the island behind us. It grows smaller and smaller as King paddles us toward the red and blue flashing lights at the opposite dock.

  “Do you think they caught the others?” I ask.

  King shrugs. “I don’t know. But I doubt they’d ever be any trouble again. Brigitte seemed to be the mastermind behind this.” He shakes his head, sadness pulls down over his face like the setting sun. “I can’t believe she’d do that to her own flesh and blood.”

  When we’re close to the shore, the lights paint us in flashes of color, Olivia lifts her head. Her hands dig into my shoulders and she whimpers against my neck.

  “It’s okay. You’re safe,” I tell her.

  “Help!” I yell. This gets the attention of the officers and they turn a large spotlight toward us. I close my eyes and hold up my hand to block the glaring light.

  They are waist deep in the water waiting for us as the canoe coasts in and bumps against the land. Two officers help me out of the boat, getting Olivia and I out. I ask them to help King, but he insists he is fine on his own. We are immediately brought to an ambulance and wrapped in a blanket. The paramedics want to inspect Olivia, but I tell them I think she is fine, though I believe she may have been drugged. She won’t let go of me, so they take her pulse and listen to her heart.

 

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