When Witches Wake

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When Witches Wake Page 20

by Hilary Foxhill


  “I’m coming!” she cried. She ran and her chest burned with smoke. She looked in each room she ran past and came to the end of the hallway. She heard a scream again, and couldn’t tell if it was coming from the right or left hallway. She ran left and realized the end of this hallway appeared clearer. The smoke was coming from behind her. She turned around and ran in the opposite direction. She coughed and covered her mouth with her shirt. She came to another intersection and squinted through the smoke. She saw light coming from the end of the corridor and heard another scream. She entered a large room and in front of her were rows of seats that led to a stage. Tattered curtains hung unevenly from the rafters and filled the room with black smoke as they burned. The stage was engulfed in flames, and in the center was a body tied to a chair.

  “No!” she tried to scream and it came out a whisper. She started to run towards the stage and tripped. She got back on her feet and tears ran down her soot covered face. “Claire!” The stage buckled and she watched it collapse, taking Claire with it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  RYAN STOOD AT the counter and watched the last customer walk around the store slowly. He had already told her that the store was closing soon, so he didn’t feel like he needed to tell her again. She was holding two books, but she had already put one book back. He wasn’t sure that she was going to end up buying anything at all. He didn’t care if she bought anything or not. He just wanted her to decide one way or the other so he could start closing up the shop. She stopped in front of a display and looked at the books in her hand again before she put one back on the shelf. He tried not to roll his eyes. He wasn’t usually so uptight about how long people hung around the shop after closing time, but with the murders and the attacks, he was on edge. It didn’t matter that the police had someone in custody. He hadn’t been able to relax since June’s death. He was alone in the shop right now because Ann had to leave for some personal emergency. He didn’t even get time to ask if she was going to come back. They weren’t supposed to be working in the shop alone, but he wasn’t her boss and she never listened to him anyway. He planned to get out of the shop as quickly as he could after this woman left. He didn’t really care about how good of a job he did closing.

  “Hi sweetie,” the customer smiled at Ryan. “I’ll just take this one." She placed the book on the counter and slid it over to Ryan.

  Ryan smiled back at her and pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Sounds good," he said. He rang up her book and she paid with cash.

  “I don’t need a bag," she said. “Thank you for being patient while I shopped. I know you're closing.”

  “No problem, Ma’am.” Ryan smiled at her. “Have a good night.” He turned around and started turning off all the electronics behind the counter, when he heard a phone ringing in the back break room. He put his hand on his pocket to find his phone and his pocket was empty. He must have left it in the break room. “Dammit," he said. He ran back and saw his phone ringing and vibrating on the table in the break room. He picked it up and looked at the screen. It was an unknown number and it stopped ringing immediately after he was able to read the incoming call. The store was silent again. He sighed and lowered his shoulders. He shifted on his feet and began to walk back to the front of the shop. The silence was broken by the bells on the front door jingling. Ryan felt terror rise from his stomach to his throat. “The door," he whispered. He had forgotten to lock the front door when the last customer left. He gulped and attempted to clear his throat. “We- we're closed," he yelled. He looked around the room for something he could use as a weapon. He heard a woman’s voice, quiet and timid from the front of the shop.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m looking for someone I know. I’m hoping you can help me," she said.

  He didn’t find anything he could use and he decided he couldn’t fight back anyway. He walked around the corner and saw a woman wearing a backpack standing at the front counter. She was medium height, with long dark hair. He remembered that the suspect in the murders had shoulder length hair. It could be a wig. He wasn’t going to let his guard down.

  “Who are you looking for?" he asked. He was trying to exude confidence and he felt like he was failing miserably.

  “A young woman, about your age. Her name is Emily.”

  Ryan recognized the name. The new person who had been hanging around Jeremy and his folks. He wasn’t going to help anyone find any of them, and he didn’t care what their reasons were.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know anyone by that name," he said. The woman squinted her eyes at him and he felt his fear rising up inside of him. Did she know he was lying? “I’m going to have to ask you to leave. We're closed.”

  The woman stared at Ryan and her face tightened. “I understand you are closed," she said. “But it is very important that I find this woman.”

  “It is very important that you leave,” Ryan said. “I won’t hesitate to call the police.” He held his phone up and unlocked the screen.

  “Fine. I’m sorry to have bothered you.” The woman glared at Ryan and left.

  Ryan ran to the door and locked it. He then ran to the back door to make sure it was locked as well. He put his hand on his chest, and felt his heart pounding. The silence in the store was muffled by the sound of his heart racing in his ears. He felt like he needed to throw up. He turned off all the lights in the store and he grabbed his jacket. He opened the front door and looked up and down the street. He saw his car a half a block away and wondered how quickly he could run to it. He took a deep breath and stepped out onto the sidewalk. He locked the door and ran towards his car. He heard footsteps behind him and looked over his shoulder to see a dark figure. Distracted by the person behind him, he didn’t see the patch of ice on the sidewalk and his feet lost control and were over his head before he realized what was happening. He fell on his back and the pain shot up his spine. He pushed it down and tried to get up before the person got to him, his feet slipping left and right before finding traction on a dry patch of the sidewalk. He unlocked his car and hopped in, pushing the automatic locks as soon as the door closed. He looked up and saw the figure approach the light in front of the store. An old woman. He was running from a helpless old woman. He laughed and shook his head. His shoulders relaxed and he took a deep breath. He looked around the car and in the dark, he couldn’t see anything threatening outside. He felt silly for being so scared and running and falling on the way to the car. He turned his key in the ignition and the car sputtered awake. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent a text to Jeremy to let him know a woman came in asking about his friend Emily. He looked up and his headlights were shining into the distance. On the street just past the Cottage, an old beat up car started and exhaust smoke filled the air around the car. The windows were foggy and he thought he could make out the shape of two heads in the car. The nervous fear returned and he pulled onto the street, turning around and driving the other way. He was eager to get home in one piece.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  SUZAN AND ANGEL sat in their car and watched as a woman they didn’t recognize waited outside Emily’s building. After waiting at the Cottage with no luck, they were hoping for Emily to come back, but from the time they arrived they hadn’t seen anyone but this woman waiting at the entrance.

  “Can you tell what apartment she was buzzing?” Suzan asked.

  “No, I can’t see from here.”

  Suzan was getting desperate, and she worried that they didn’t have much time to catch Emily before they would lose the upper hand they had in this situation so far. She wanted to be cautious, but she knew she was going to have to take a risk if they were going to succeed. And they had to succeed. “Maybe we should go talk to her," she said.

  Angel glanced at her, surprised. “Talk to her? And create a witness?”

  “We haven’t done anything for her to witness," she said. “Plus that idiot took the fall for us, just like I told you he would. We’re in the clear. I think she might be able to help us.”


  “Help us how, exactly?” Angel was used to Suzan’s odd suggestions by now, but he was starting to think she was getting too confident. “She can’t even get into the building herself.”

  Suzan tapped her bottom lip with her index finger and watched the woman through the foggy window of their car. “I’m not sure, but I have a feeling she's connected to all of this.”

  “Did you get another vision?” he asked.

  Suzan shot him an irritated look. “No, love," she turned back to look at the woman. “But doesn’t she look a bit like the woman who left the cottage before it closed?”

  Angel squinted his eyes. “She has the same color hair, I guess. It was dark.”

  Suzan shook her head. “Such a man," she mumbled under her breath. “I wonder if she is looking for little miss too.”

  Angel was confused. But he was often confused around Suzan and he tried to do his best to hide it. He didn’t want her to know he was confused around her. It might make her think he was stupid.

  “Hmm," he said. “Maybe.” He didn’t know why she thought they were related, but he didn’t dare ask.

  Suzan looked at him and read the confusion on his face. “I just have a feeling. I get a sense about her." She started tapping her finger to her lip again and watched the woman standing at the entrance. “We can at least check and see. Just a little check wouldn’t hurt." She lifted her jacket back up from behind her and slid her arms in the sleeves. She pulled a small dark bottle and a cloth out of her pocket and showed it to Angel. “Watch from here. If you see me put my hand in my pocket, it’s because I’m going for this. If that happens, pull the car around right in front of us and help me get her into the backseat.”

  Angel nodded. “Okay.”

  Suzan leaned forward and kissed him. “Wish me luck, baby.”

  “Good luck.”

  Karen waited at the entrance of the old brownstone, her arms wrapped around herself as the wind blew the fabric of the awning above her. She had buzzed Emily’s apartment over 30 minutes ago, and wasn’t sure how much longer she should wait. Someone had to be coming in or out of the building soon, and she was planning on slipping inside the entryway to at least get out of the cold. If she wasn’t able to get inside soon, she would get a hotel room until she found Emily. She held her shoulders up to her ears, trying to block the cold. She was trying to wrestle with the emotions she was experiencing. Struggling to hold back anger at Emily for ignoring her calls. She was worried about her and just wanted to know that she was safe. When she knew she was safe, that is when she would be upset with her. She saw a woman approaching and for a brief moment excitement filled her chest at the thought that it might be her daughter. The unknown woman walked into the orange glow of light that surrounded the entrance and Karen saw a face she didn’t recognize. Dark hair, like her daughter. But a much older face. The woman was already looking Karen in the eyes as she came into the light. She had keys in her hand and approached the secured door.

  Karen smiled with her lips closed and gave the woman a small nod. “Hello," she said.

  “Good evening.” The woman lifted her hand to put her key in the door and

  stopped. She quickly shifted her gaze to Karen. “You look cold. Are you waiting for someone?”

  Karen held back a shiver. “Uh, yes actually. I am." She looked up and down the street and saw that it was empty. Looking back at the woman, she seemed harmless enough. Maybe she knew Emily and could help her. “My daughter, Emily lives here. Do you know her?”

  Her face perked up as a smile spread across her lips. “Ah Emily! Yes of course. Oh we love Emily around here. She’s your daughter?”

  Karen relaxed slightly. “Yes, she is." She couldn't hold back the shiver that passed over her body. “Could you, um, let me in the building? I have been waiting for her but she hasn’t come home. I just want to wait outside her door.”

  The woman at the door dropped the key from the hole and smiled again at Karen. “Oh. I can let you in, that’s not a problem. But if you like, I could bring you to her.”

  Karen’s face lit up. “You know where she is right now?”

  “Yes, she’s right down the street actually. I was just with her. Do you want me to bring you to her?”

  Karen felt relieved at the kindness of this stranger. And she had to stop herself as her American instincts and her gut snuck back into the forefront of her consciousness. There were dangerous people in the city and she shouldn’t let her guard down so easily. “That is so kind of you,” Karen said. “Where is she?”

  The woman slid her keys into her jacket pocket and smiled at Karen. “I can take you to her," she said. “That would be easier.”

  Headlights turned on from a parked car down the street. Karen was distracted for a moment as she looked up and watched the car pull out of its parking space and drive towards them. The car sped up and it appeared as if it was going to drive right into them. Without thinking, Karen jumped into action and put her hands on the woman’s shoulders to try and move her out of the way of the incoming vehicle.

  “Watch out!” she cried.

  The car slowed to a stop. Karen looked back to the woman just in time to see her smile grow wider and more sinister. Karen pulled her hands back and furrowed her brows with confusion, as out of the corner of her eye she saw the woman’s hand emerge from her jacket pocket. She saw a flash of white cloth, and her mouth was covered with a sweet smell that she couldn't place. The stranger was holding a damp washcloth to her face, and her eyes lost focus on the woman. Her vision became blurry and her limbs felt weak. She collapsed into the woman’s small arms, and she felt nothing.

  Before her vision went completely black, the stranger looked into her eyes and said, “You’ll see your daughter soon.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  EMILY WOKE UP screaming Claire’s name. She sat up and grabbed her chest, which still burned from breathing in smoke. Her voice was hoarse and her throat felt dry.

  “What the fuck was that?” she whispered. She walked into the kitchen and poured a glass of water. The clock read 11:22 pm. She stared at the clock as she replayed the images of the dream in her head. Maybe it had only been a bad dream. Maybe it wasn’t actually going to happen. Her other dreams with Claire certainly hadn’t happened. But it felt so real. She thought she could still taste the smoke in her mouth and she was still struggling to take a deep breath. She needed some air. She walked over to her window and opened it. The cold air blew into the apartment and she pressed her nose against the screen, trying to breathe in the clean air deeply. Unsatisfied, she closed the window and walked back to the hallway. She slipped on her shoes, grabbed her jacket and keys, and left her apartment. She walked out the entrance and sat down on the stoop. She took a deep breath and filled her lungs with the cold clean air. The street was quiet and golden reflections of the street lights glittered on the icy pavement. It felt good to sit here and not worry about who might be watching her. She felt free again. She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds around her. She wasn’t even afraid of being approached by a drunk, or a mugger. Since her initiation she felt powerful and aware. She felt brave. An image of the stage on fire flashed in her mind and she opened her eyes.

  “God dammit," she said out loud. She rubbed her eyes and tried to push the image out of her mind. She pulled out her phone and looked at the screen, trying to decide if she should call Claire and tell her about the dream. What would it accomplish if she did? If the dream was a premonition, would it help Claire to know about it? If it was just a bad dream, then she risked both scaring her for no reason, and coming off as anxious and bothersome. She had been doing so well separating herself from Claire and her feelings for her. At least she thought she had. She couldn’t throw that away and go whining to her about every dream she had about her. She needed to try and stay neutral. At least until her feelings for her became neutral. The initiation had tempted her, and she didn’t want to let herself interpret anything the wrong way. It was an intense evening. Eve
ryone was lost in the moment and Claire was too. Maybe those feelings were just part of every initiation, and maybe her subconscious was trying to break all of that down. Her dreams had led her to the coven and to Claire. She saw them together, but once she met Claire and found out that they couldn’t be together, she had struggled to let that reality go. Maybe this dream was just her brain trying to help her out. Kill off her feelings for her. Maybe. But the thought of losing Claire only made her want her more. Maybe she needed to tell her how she felt. Get it off of her chest before it’s too late. Maybe that is what the dream was telling her.

  “Ughhh," she buried her face in her hands. They felt cold and dry on her face. She should have brought her gloves outside with her. She took one more deep breath and stood up. She turned to go back up the step and into the building. Inserting the key in the door, she saw something on the buzzer out of the corner of her eye. A piece of paper was taped to the buzzer right below her apartment number. Confused, she pulled the paper off and opened the note.

  We have her, Emily.

  44°44'21.7"N 93°37'02.8"W

  Come get her. Alone.

  If you bring police, she dies.

  “No." She shook her head and felt like she was going to throw up. She looked up and down the street, seeing no one. She opened the door and ran to her apartment, locking the door behind her. She called Claire. The line rang five times before going to voicemail. She called again, and again there was no answer.

 

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