Kaylee shook her head and turned back to the path. “You keep that creepy little thing far away from me.”
“It’s not creepy,” Little Ed said, following his mother toward Sturkey.
“I wasn’t talking about the doll.”
Adam picked up his action figure and tucked it in the center of his hoodie, where it hung out like a kangaroo’s joey.
“That really is kinda creepy,” I said, still mad as hell at the kid, but impressed just the same.
“Do you think?”
“Oh yes, very.”
Adam’s shoulders slumped. “Okay, I’ll unmake it when I get home.”
“Who said anything about unmaking it?”
“Wait… so you like it?” Adam said, perking up slightly.
“Nope, still spooks me out.”
“Oh.”
“But what I do like, is that you took some serious initiative while I was gone, and that is impressive as hell.”
"Really?"
It was hard to not chuckle at the oversized hoodie pouch with a pair of rubber wrestler feet hanging out on one side.
“Couldn’t have used like some army men or something?”
“Um, well…”
“Or even a rubber snake?”
Adam shook his head. “I hate snakes.”
“Well, at least we can agree on that.”
Adam smiled. “Does this mean you’ll reconsider what I said about Cathy?”
“Nope.”
“Gene, it wasn’t—”
“I’d stop while you’re behind.”
26
Sturkey
With the sun having moved past midday and into the afternoon, marsh mosquitoes woke up and found the bare spots around my ankles with expert precision. Those little bastards dug in like a wild pack of cannibals, and in short order my fire ant bites had been supplemented with the rage-inducing itchiness of at least half a dozen red welts.
“Please tell me we’re getting close.”
Kaylee didn’t respond, but I did get a nod from Little Ed. I checked on Adam, only to find the ‘Muscles that Tussles’ bobbing along in his pouch, now adjusted so that the doll’s angry little face stared at my back.
Great.
The meandering path to Sturkey had actually gotten a lot worse after that clearing. Sure, we were in a swamp, so the term ‘path’ had to be used with the utmost of creativity, but it had quickly descended into a loose smattering of old cypress stumps and wide mud fields that didn’t dare run in a straight line. The sun was low in the sky, bringing with it a strange coldness that tumbled down from the tall pine’s shadows.
“That’s the mound,” Kaylee said unprompted. She’d been stealing glances in the general direction of the Timucua mound for the last thirty minutes.
“I thought you and the Eds took care of it,” I said, focusing all my attention on finding the best patch of bare earth for my tired feet.
“We did,” the young Demon Hunter said. “We locked it up tight as a drum. What you are feeling now is nothing compared to what it was.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Really? Cause its sure got a ‘primal murder’ vibe going.”
“It’s just because we’re getting close to Sturkey,” Kaylee said, testing the mud depth with her staff. “There’s a history.”
Adam flipped his hood around to wipe the sweat from his face. “Should we know it?”
“I’m guessing the mining town and the natives didn’t get along? I’m going to take ‘stealing their land’ for two hundred, Alex,” I said, leaning against a narrow sapling’s trunk to avoid falling in the mud yet again.
The Swamp Witch stopped. “Who’s Alex?”
“Forget it. Am I right?”
“Yes, for the most part. The mining town is long gone now, almost completely absorbed by the swamp, but there’s still a rich vein of limestone there. That’s what brings the Bridge Trolls.”
I shook my head. “And that’s why you don’t leave food out on the counter—never know what sort of pests you’ll get.”
Kaylee clearly bristled at that last comment, but she didn’t have time to chastise me before Little Ed announced our arrival in Sturkey.
“How can you tell?” I said, stepping off a slippery cypress nub and onto a patch of dry land.
“Take a deep breath,” the junior Demon Hunter said.
I did, and immediately coughed at the pungent smell of rotten eggs. “What is that? Sulfur?”
Little Ed shook his head. “No, that’s limestone. When it’s ground up, though, it produces a sulfur-like odor.”
“Well that’s just great,” I said, swatting at a rather large mosquito that had set up shop on my ankle.
“Why?” Kaylee asked, after she, along with Adam and the rubber wrestler, joined us on the shore.
“It might make it harder to draw them out.”
The Swamp Witch tilted her head. “Huh?”
“Show me where you found the flamingos.”
“Follow me,” she said, leading us into a dense pine patch just off the shore. “Trust me, you can’t miss it.”
* * *
Kaylee navigated the pine scrub with zero effort. It was clear the Swamp Witch, and her son, were veterans of the Green Swamp—Adam and I weren’t.
We hadn’t traveled ten feet before my apprentice tangled himself in a patch of thorny briars. “Uh, Gene, a little help here?”
Mercifully our guides waited while I unhooked the young Magician and his beef-cake golem from the local flora. Kaylee gently pulled aside a large palm frond and directed us past. “Welcome to Sturkey.”
“This is it?” I said, more than a little underwhelmed. It may have been classified as a mining town at one time, but right now it would have been hard pressed to be considered much more than a campsite.
“You were expecting more?” the Swamp Witch asked, knocking some mud off her staff against a discarded sheet of rusting metal.
“I was expecting… something? This is just junk.”
The town of Sturkey appeared to be nothing more than old steel buildings, long since reduced to rust, that jutted out of the ground in ramshackle fashion. It was hard to see much beyond the dense trees, but it certainly wasn’t going to make the tourist guidebooks.
“Use your imagination, Gene,” Little Ed said, pointing at one of the collapsed tetanus factories slowly being consumed by the swamp. “I’m guessing that was where they ground the limestone.”
I tilted my head. “Are you sure it wasn’t the brothel? I mean it was a mining town, right?”
That comment earned me a sharp rap on the head from Kaylee’s staff before she stomped deeper into the derelict town. “Come on, the flamingos have been appearing over here.”
The Swamp Witch led us past at least a dozen more rust buckets before stopping outside what had to be the only concrete structure in the whole town. Simple and nondescript, the building’s steel roof was still intact, but just barely. Thin shafts of sunlight, not already filtered out by the pine forest overhead, wormed their way into the structure, giving it an eerie half-light. Bright pink plastic flamingos surrounded the concrete box in almost absurd numbers. The birds sat on thin metal rods, giving them the appearance of flocking around the creepy old building.
“Wow,” Little Ed said, reaching down to pick one of the yard ornaments up. “What is—”
“Stop!” I said, grabbing the junior Demon Hunter’s hand. “Don’t touch them.”
Little Ed pulled his arm back like he’d seen a water moccasin. “Why? Are they dangerous?”
“Only if you like your fingers.”
Little Ed backed away from bright pink yard birds.
“I’m kidding,” I said, picking one up and pressing its beak against my fingers. “See, there’s nothing to be afraid—argh, my hand!”
I snapped my hand back and dropped the flamingo.
“Gene!” Little Ed shouted.
“He’s faking.” Kaylee pushed past her son and scooped up the flamingo
in her arms. “I’ve been doing this for days, there’s nothing dangerous about them.”
I chuckled and grabbed another plastic bird, then offered it to Ed’s son. “She’s right, these won’t hurt you.”
Little Ed held up his hands, clearly wanting nothing to do with the yard art. I chuckled and turned my attention back to the Swamp Witch. “I have got to question your mom-game, Kaylee, that was an opportune moment to mess with his head.”
Ed’s ex-wife ignored me, and instead navigated a path through the derelict yard ornaments to a door-less entry into the mildew-covered building. “There are more inside.”
“Take me to the source.”
* * *
The Swamp Witch hadn’t been kidding; that didn’t surprise me, as I’d already determined she was about as jovial as a post-operative infection. What I didn’t expect was just how much she’d meant by ‘more.’
Thin shafts of sunlight filtered through the steel roof and shined upon the bright pink bodies of hundreds if not thousands of plastic flamingos. There were so many inside that they couldn’t stand in the ground—instead, they were strewn above in heaping piles, their plastic eyes following us.
“Is this normal?” Ed’s ex-wife asked.
“No. Well, I’ve only ever seen it once…”
Kaylee turned to face me, her eyes glaring in the half-light. “Something you care to enlighten me with?”
Not particularly.
“It’s nothing,” I lied. “I’ll talk to them and see what’s going on…”
If they’ll let me.
Kaylee threw up her hands in disgust. “You mind filling me in on what’s going on here? This is my swamp and I don’t appreciate being kept in the dark.”
“Don’t worry,” I said, rolling up my sleeves. “I’ve got it.”
The Swamp Witch shook her head. “I swear, we might as well be married.”
“Huh?”
“You are no different from Ed—always have to have all the answers. I swear it would kill you to admit you might not know everything.”
“Are you kidding?” I said, pushing aside a pile of plastic birds with my foot. “My life is basically a testament to my lack of knowledge. Let me total it up for you. I have a daughter trapped in Hell, or at least that’s what I think, but go ask my apprentice back there and he’ll tell you I’m wrong. Heck, ask anyone and they’ll tell you my daughter is still safe in Tampa.”
“Why don’t you just—”
“Ask them? I’d love to, except I made a deal to save my daughter and in exchange my family cannot see me anymore. I don’t exist to them. So, yeah, not knowing what I’m doing is totally my thing, and I do it better than anyone else.”
Kaylee stared at me, and for a moment I thought I’d found a way to melt a little of that icy demeanor. “What are you going to do?”
I cleared out a space on the sandy floor. “I’m going to join the Flock. Again.”
Ed’s ex-wife shook her head. “Not in my swamp. I’m the one doing whatever that entails.”
“No.” I said, my flat denial sending the Swamp Witch into a tizzy.
“You told me—”
“I told you I’d help, and that’s what I’m going to do. The Flock is nothing to sneeze at. It’s dangerous. These little pink birds look harmless, but what they do in here,” I pointed a finger at my head, “is decidedly not. I’m not doing that to you. I’ve been through it twice now, and I know what I’m up against.”
I knelt down in the open spot between the stacks, my knees sinking in the soft sand.
Kaylee fumed. “Is this because you’re a Magician? You don’t think I wouldn’t understand? I’m just some stupid woman, is that it? You are so like Ed—so very like him.”
I placed my hands in my lap, one inside the other, and took a deep breath. “You’re gonna want to save up all that anger, especially if I screw this up and you end up with an invisible monster.”
“What?!”
“Exactly,” I said, releasing the tension in my shoulders. “Just hold on to that.”
27
Fowl Play
Kaylee paced in front of me, randomly stopping to kick plastic flamingos against the distant walls. “Well?”
I opened one eye. “That isn’t helping.”
Ed’s ex-wife threw her hands up in the air. “I’m sorry, is this disrupting your navel-gazing?”
Sigh.
“I’m trying to do you a favor. When they come, they can get aggressive, so just stay out of the way.”
Kaylee sulked. “I don’t see anything happening.”
“Exactly, that’s the point. You can’t see the real ones. These are just the duplicates,” I said, trying to regain my focus.
“Duplicates?”
Sigh.
“Yes, the duplicates. That means one of them might be nesting, and if that’s the case, then that’s a lot more than you want to be involved in, trust me.”
Kaylee surveyed the concrete block room. “Still no movement.”
I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the woman’s predatory pacing.
Where are you hiding?
My mind went back to the first frightening time I had joined the Flock, and the confusion, panic, and bone-chilling fear that came along with that memory. Oddly, none of that had anything to do with those enigmatic birds.
Don’t think about that…
I took a deep breath and pushed those thoughts out of my head. Stacks of plastic flamingos didn’t just show up in the middle of the swamp; the Flock had to be here, but where were they?
“Does it normally take this long?” Kaylee asked, more than a hint of frustration in her voice.
“Good grief, woman, are you sure Little Ed’s your son?”
The Swamp Witch slammed the end of her staff against the ground, Magick bubbling up like hot magma. “What did you say?”
“It was a joke—kids, impatience, you know.” My words were interrupted by a subtle shifting of the stacks.
“What was that?”
“Ssh,” I said, holding up a hand. “You don’t want to spook it.”
“Hey!” Adam’s voice came from outside the concrete bird house. “One of those plastic birds just shot through my legs. It’s headed your way, and fast.”
“If the bird was outside, then what is that?” Kaylee pointed to the shifting mound of plastic yard art.
“I don’t know, but here it comes,” I cried, getting back in position.
The Swamp Witch backpedaled, her Magick swirling just outside the confines of that oaken staff. “What do I do?”
“Nothing. It will come to me.”
The plastic pink bird picked its way through the stacks. Its narrow legs slipped between the hard bodies with careful precision. Coal-black eyes darted back and forth between Kaylee and I, unsure and calculating.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, extending my mind and reaching out for the tiny bird.
We are Flock.
The flamingo didn’t respond.
“Gene… What’s going on?” Kaylee said, fear in her voice.
I snapped my eyes open to find the little bird had ignored me entirely. All of its focus was on Ed’s ex-wife, her staff, and the Magick she was putting out.
“It’s the Magick. Stop!”
Kaylee shook her head, taking another step backward. “I can’t. It just happens sometimes and—”
Crash!
The Swamp Witch slipped on the shifting stacks. Her back hit the pile, and in an instant the bird was on top of her. “What do I do?”
Crap.
“Don’t do anything aggressive,” I said, trying to keep my voice level.
The plastic bird’s long neck worked like a periscope, bringing those black eyes in line with hers.
Kaylee barely suppressed the panic in her voice. “Gene…”
The bird twisted to run its nose along her chest.
“What’s it doing?” asked, her eyes wide.
“Sizing you up.”
Kaylee’s hands opened and closed. I could tell she wanted to do something, but didn’t know what. “Is there anything I should be doing right now?”
“No—well, I take that back.”
“What?”
“Don’t blink.”
The pink bird dug its beak into the Swamp Witch’s shirt.
“Damn it, Gene.”
“You said you wanted to join the Flock—looks like you’re going to get your wish.”
The tiny bird jumped onto Kaylee’s chest, its metal legs pressing against her skin. Kaylee shifted beneath the flamingo. Her hands shook and she struggled to keep her breath under control.
Crap.
“What did I say about confidence?”
“I’m trying,” the Swamp Witch said, her voice cracking.
“You need a display of confidence or things are going to turn on you really fast.”
“I’m trying…” Kaylee’s body language indicated otherwise.
“Stop trying and start doing. That’s Ed’s Mom, and she doesn’t approve of you. You hear me? She doesn’t approve of you because you aren’t good enough for her son.”
The bird’s black eyes bore down on the Swamp Witch.
“Are you gonna take that?”
“No…” Kaylee sputtered.
“Don’t tell me, damn it. Show that bird who’s boss, or things are going to go bad.”
“It’s a plastic bird,” Kaylee stammered. “How bad could it—”
Ed’s ex-wife hadn’t finished her sentence before the yard art stabbed one of those thin metal rods into her thigh, then pushed its long beak right up to the Witch’s face.
Kaylee began to panic and the beautifully subtle Magick she’d been drawing up through the staff started to fade.
“Stop,” I said, as the thin line of blood dripped out of the Swamp Witch’s leg. “This is it, this is the challenge. Do not break eye contact.”
“What?!”
I shook my head. “Listen to my words, but don’t look at me, and don’t take your eyes off that bird. Stare it down. Focus!”
Kaylee’s hands twitched and her Magick fluttered in and out. “I…”
Beaten Path Page 15