Bad Omens

by Lorraine Kennedy

  A few minutes later, I returned to the counter with some snacks and a soda. Bill didn’t mention the dark energy again, and I was glad of it. The less I had to explain, the better.

  After paying for my purchases, I returned to my car and prepared to make the crossing. Now that I had some road trip snacks and something to quench my thirst, I was ready.

  The Zone Authority closely monitored the roads into the various zones, so for the most part, they were safe. There risk of running into a homicidal wolf or a vortex spell was minimal, but you could never be sure so it was best not to travel the toll roads after dark.

  The accident rate for Bill’s Crossing was pretty low. Every once in a while, something happened, such as slipping into other dimensions or a bad vampire attack, but these types of occurrences were rare. The rate was even lower for witches since a witch could somewhat control the energy around them. Too bad that wasn’t the case with me. If things went wacky, I was screwed.

  Backing out of the parking space, I maneuvered the car around the building and onto the narrow two-lane road that would take me over the bridge to the toll road.

  Just as the car made it to the middle of the bridge, there was a violent shudder and everything went black.

  I was floating in a very spooky void. A regular person wouldn’t notice anything abnormal other than a bad feeling, but since I was a witch, it could get nasty.

  The Zone Authority had obviously neglected to detect this particular spell and if Bill knew about it, he was keeping the knowledge to himself. I wasn’t surprised.

  Keeping one white-knuckled hand on the steering wheel, I used the other to double check the seatbelt. Thank goodness I’d remembered to fasten it. I could just imagine what the result would be if I hadn’t.

  A second later, the car was spinning in place. All I could do was close my eyes and pray that I didn't land in some hellish netherworld. With my witch compass useless, praying was all I could do.

  To this day, I’m still not sure if all the shuddering, spinning, and malicious entities in the vortex are real or a byproduct of the energy field of some wayward spell. Either way, it sucks.

  When I mustered enough courage to open one eye, I was confronted with a rotting zombie. It had its face pressed against the passenger side window while gnashing its teeth. There was also a faceless demon sliding his forked tongue across the windshield. In the distance, I could hear screams of terror that sent s shiver down my spine.

  Were they real or illusion?

  I had no idea and no urge to find out. Clamping my eyes shut, I held my breath.

  Everything came to an abrupt stop, the spinning – the screams, all of it. At first, I only dared open one eye.

  There was a sign directing all traffic to report to the West Coast Zone Authority before continuing on the road. Of course, they didn’t call it the West Coast Zone Authority. They didn't want to advertise to the outside world so they called it the Highway Patrol Toll Office.

  I opened the other eye and breathed a sigh of relief. My car was at a standstill in the middle of a bridge.

  Rolling down the window, I peered at the river below. A thick mist was beginning to form on top of the water, the result of the cooling temperature as day turned into evening.

  A lot more time had passed than I’d realized. Whoever put that nasty spell on the bridge had to be one badass witch, and not someone I wanted to meet any time soon.

  The late afternoon sun had that golden appearance that I loved so much, no matter which side of the bridge I was on. The scene was so beautiful and tranquil that I almost forget why I’d vowed never to come back.

  I couldn’t let that happen.

  No matter what, I had to remember how dark Raven Point could be. It was like a reoccurring nightmare that just wouldn’t let go.

  I eased the car the rest of the way over old bridge. Crossing the Black River, I continued driving toward the Zone Authority. Getting there wouldn’t take long. About a mile from the bridge, the road was blocked with a red crossing arm.

  The small booth to the left had one guard controlling access but there was also a small visitor’s building. This is where you went if you didn’t have a yellow toll sticker in the corner of your windshield.

  I didn’t happen to have one of those so I would have to stop and give them some identification. It was my opinion that the checkpoint was overkill, considering Bill was pretty good at controlling access to the toll road. If someone looked like trouble, he would simply claim that the road was out and that they would have to go up the highway to the next town.

  That Bill was one sneaky bugger but a pretty good judge of character.

  But, bureaucracies will be bureaucracies, even in Raven Point.

  The process took about twenty minutes, which meant it was twenty minutes closer to nightfall. I didn’t like the idea of being on the road to Raven Point after dark. The woods could be pretty creepy, especially at night. I was the kind of witch that didn’t particularly like creepy.

  Once I was on the road again, my anxieties began to fade. It would be good to see my family again, as long as I could ignore the craziness while I was there.

  I took the winding road with the ease of someone who’d driven it dozens of times, which I had. Before long, I mellowed out enough to enjoy the scenery. It was only when I glanced into the rearview mirror that things really got bad.

  There was a dark, hooded figure seated where Sam usually sat, but this spectral rider was far more menacing. Sam clearly didn’t want anything to do with whatever had hitched a ride with us. The boy ghost had disappeared. I quickly realized that I kind of missed Sam’s non-threatening presence.

  I was in instant panic mode.

  I took my eyes off the road for less than a second, but it was long enough to totally screw things up.

  That’s when the front tire left the pavement. Before I had time to realize how bad I’d messed up, the car was spinning out of control.

  Chapter 5

  The car came to a stop on the side of the road, narrowly missing a grove of pine trees. The dark figure had vanished.

  “Coward!” I yelled, focusing on the now empty seat.

  I had no idea what I’d just seen but whatever or whoever it was, they’d really pissed me off. Anger was the one thing that could push all other emotions aside. At that very moment, I wouldn’t have thought twice about giving the devil himself a good thrashing.

  As my anger faded, shock set in. Still shaking, I rested my forehead on the steering wheel until my breathing returned to normal.

  Another bad omen.

  By now, I should have gotten the hint, but I can be a bit dense. Part of me knew I was headed for disaster, but I was choosing to ignore it. As far as I was concerned, superstition was another part of the world I was trying to leave behind. If I started seeing omens everywhere, I’d fall into my old way of life. I had no intention of doing that.

  Hopefully, the car would start since I no longer had the number for Al’s Auto Repair & Towing programmed into my phone.

  The car did start without a problem.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, I pulled onto the road and continued the drive to Raven Point and whatever fate had in store for me.

  I had gone less than a mile when I noticed flashing red and blue lights in my rearview mirror.

  Seriously?

  I was pretty sure I hadn’t broken any traffic laws. Losing control of the car and spinning out hadn’t been my fault. Besides, no one had been around to see that particular screw up.

  Frustrated, I flipped on the turn signal and pulled to the side of the road. A set of headlights came up behind me, stopping just a few feet from the back of the car.

  It was taking everything I had to rein in my irritation. After all, getting pulled over wasn’t that big of a deal. I would just show the officer my driver’s license, take the citation, and be on my way.

  As I was digging for my wallet, I was interrupted by a knock on the driver’s side window.

>   I looked up to see a man standing next to my car and he wasn’t wearing a uniform.

  I wasn’t sure if I should roll down the window or make a run for it. It wasn’t uncommon for killers to lay traps for unsuspecting victims by impersonating law enforcement. With my luck, that is exactly the kind of mess I’d step into.

  But if he was a real cop and I ran, I’d be spending my visit in the local jail.

  Giving in, I rolled down the window. If he turned out to be some wicked character out fishing for victims, there was always the canister of pepper spray on my key ring.

  “What did I do?” I asked, pasting on an innocent smile.

  “Miss, I’m going to need you to get out of the car,” he told me in a voice that was way too deep and sexy to belong to a cop.

  Not that I’d had a lot of experience with cops.

  He was shining a flashlight in my eyes so I had no idea what he looked like.

  This so-called police officer was out of his mind if he thought I was going to get out of the car before I saw some identification.

  “Can I see a badge, please?”

  A moment later, he flashed his FBI credentials. That didn’t do it for me. I knew for a fact that it was almost unheard for the FBI to be in the West Coast Zone. Technically, they had jurisdiction, but there were very few who would bother unless they were dealing with a federal crime.

  To put it simply, the Zones were considered a Special Access Program. People in the Zone paid taxes like everyone else, but almost no one in the government actually cared about these places one way or the other. Most figured the zones shouldn’t exist at all. After all, as far as most people were concerned, witches weren't real and wolves sure the hell didn’t turn into people. It was all a bunch of hogwash.

  If only they knew.

  My hand slid off the steering wheel to the key ring dangling from the ignition. Releasing the clasp that held the can of pepper spray, I said, “I’m going to need more than a fake badge before I get out of this car.”

  “Miss, I’m not playing games. You need to get out of the car.”

  He was persistent, not to mention a pesky.

  “Where did you train in the FBI?” I asked.

  “Quantico,” he sighed.

  A serial killer impersonating an FBI Agent might be informed enough to answer that question, but I couldn’t think of anything else to ask that might flush him out as a fake.

  Clasping the pepper spray in one hand, I opened the door, ready for anything.

  His credentials might be real, but growing up in Raven Point had taught me that you could never be too careful. Nothing was ever as it appeared.

  “I’ll need you to place your hands on the hood of the car and spread your legs,” he informed me while still holding the light in my eyes.

  “Why don’t you tell me what this is about, first?” Cop or not, I was determined to vet this guy before putting myself into a vulnerable situation.

  Unless that vulnerable situation included a bit of S and M, then I might be persuaded.

  “Miss, I really need you to follow directions,” he said in an authoritative voice, though this time I detected some sympathy.

  Sighing, I did as he asked but still held the small bottle of pepper spray rolled up in my fingers.

  His hands slid down my body. As soon as he touched me, I thought of the guy on the motorcycle. The image sent shivers through every nerve ending in my body.

  What was wrong with me?

  I was in the process of being searched by the police and I was having urges! There was definitely something not right about that.

  It had been way too long since I’d had a good date.

  “Okay, turn around,” he said when he’d finished searching me.

  “What is this about?” I asked, this time there was a hard edge to my voice. I was a little uncomfortable with my body’s reaction to his touch and the best way to deal with that was to be a total bitch.

  That was my reasoning anyway. I pushed away anything I didn’t understand.

  Besides, I didn’t enjoy being harassed, even if that harassment was coming from the police – especially if that harassment was coming from the police. My mother’s killer was still out there somewhere. Why weren’t they doing something about that?

  “Where are you headed?” he asked.

  I thought it strange that he still hadn’t asked for my driver’s license and had no idea who I was.

  “Raven Point. Why does it matter where I’m going? What did I do to get pulled over?”

  Ignoring my questions, he took a step in my direction. “I’m going to need you to open the trunk.”

  “What the hell for?” This was really starting to piss me off. All I was doing was trying to get home and everything seemed to be standing in my way.

  “Another bad omen,” a deep, masculine voice whispered in my ear.

  Startled, I looked around but there was no one except for the faceless cop – faceless because he was still blinding me with the light.

  “The keys are still in the car,” I told him.

  While keeping his eyes on me, the agent stepped back and opened the car door. Leaning inside, he pulled the keys from the ignition and handed them to me. “Please open the trunk, Miss.”

  With a loud, frustrated sigh, I took the keys and proceeded to open the trunk.

  As the beam of the light swept over the trunk, my heart jumped into my throat. There was a body curled up next to my bags.

  I was screwed!

  A dozen explanations ran through my mind, none of them plausible, even to me.

  Somehow, the body had been stashed in my trunk, maybe when I stopped at the rest stop or while Bill kept me occupied at the Crossroads.

  None of these scenarios made sense.

  I wasn’t just screwed. I was totally and completely screwed.

  Someone was trying to set me up!

  Agent Snoopy swept the trunk with the beam of the flashlight one more time before turning away and pointing the light into the backseat.

  That’s when it dawned on me that he hadn’t seen the body. He’d looked directly at it and hadn’t noticed a thing.

  It was a ghost!

  Looking back at the curled up figure, it dawned on me that I actually recognized that matted red hair and out of style clothing.

  Kayla had followed me to Raven Point!

  But how?

  Swallowing back my panic, I cleared my throat. “Do you mind if I ask what you’re looking for?” I’m just trying to get home for a family reunion.”

  “Sorry, Miss Summers but someone is trafficking humans into Raven Point. We found a body last night, about a mile from here. We think they are being snatched from nearby cities.”

  He was giving out way too much information to someone he obviously considered a suspect. The only reason he would do that is to judge my reaction. I did not disappoint.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, there was a bad memory – a really bad memory. While in school, I’d been studying for a test when I found a grimoire in the library. There was a spell in the old book that called for the fat of a young child.

  Disgust churned in the pit of my stomach.

  Needless to say, I now had a complex when it came to morbid spells.

  Sure, the grimoire had been over two hundred years old, but still.

  The very thought of what might be happening if people were actually being smuggled into the Zone sent horror coursing through every fiber of my being.

  “That’s terrible,” I gasped.

  “Yes it is,” he agreed. “Someone tipped off the Zone Authority that you would be crossing with cargo.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I could actually feel the revulsion twisting my features into a mask of disgust. The idea was absurd. In fact, I was insulted that anyone would even think I’d be involved in something so crazy.

  The logical part of me realized that it was the job of the authorities to check out every lead, but it still irritated me. Now it wa
s clear how he’d known my identity without asking for my name or driver’s license.

  The West Coast Zone Authority put an alert on my name. As soon as they’d entered my name into the computer, the authorities would have been alerted.

  “Will you get that light out of my eyes,” I told him, lifting one hand to block the beam of light that he was once again directing at my face. “If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m not trafficking people or anything else.”

  Seeming to come to a decision, he lowered the flashlight. For the first time since he’d stopped me, I could actually see what he looked like.

  The black suit didn’t surprise me. Most Feds seemed to wear the same type of suit, but he was far from average. He was tall and filled out that suit pretty well. He had the face of a male model with finely chiseled features and a tan, Malibu Beach look about him.

  He might have been handsome, but his standoffish manner was a bit unnerving. I sensed that he wasn’t completely convinced of my innocence.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  Although I’d seen his identification, I hadn’t actually taken note of his name. I’d been too busy looking for signs that it was a fake.

  “Special Agent Trey Hill,” he stated. There was exactly zero emotion in his voice.

  “Well, Special Agent Trey Hill, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back on the road. Raven Point is still a bit if a drive from here.”

  “This road can be dangerous after dark,” he said. “Do you want an escort?”

  He was right. The toll road could be dangerous after dark, but the thought of having a cop follow me home wasn’t appealing either. More than likely, this was another test – a test that I was probably going to fail.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m fine.”

  Nodding, he flashed me a dazzling smile. “I apologize for the inconvenience.”

  His smile said otherwise but I wasn’t prepared to argue with him. It had been a long trip and I was tired.

  “Yeah, well I hope you catch the traffickers.”

  “We will,” he promised.

  There was something in his voice that left little doubt that he meant what he said. It was nice to know he took his job seriously, but I couldn’t get over the fact that our local police didn’t seem to care about what had happened to my mother.