The Dark Sacrifice: A Horror Novel

by Jay Bower

  He thought about Meagan and Noah. He wanted so badly to tell them he loved them. He felt his life slipping away, the black mist stealing it from him. Patrick tried to call out again, but the unrelenting mist suffocated him. His thoughts began to lose coherence. Images of Meagan and Noah appeared and vanished in his mind as though he were on some psychedelic acid trip. The blackness pushed the images away and the water stung his bare skin. The pain overwhelmed him and he was blinded.

  And then, the black mist let go.

  Air rushed deep into his lungs. He gasped as he took a fresh, untainted breath. The darkness peeled back and the water made one last shift to the warm temperature it had been just moments before. The searing pain in his flesh immediately disappeared, though a faint echo remained.

  He found himself standing in the shower like nothing had happened, the sudden freedom of movement feeling strange to him. He jumped out of the tub, falling on the floor.

  Meagan rushed in. “Are you okay?” He looked up at her, confused. Noah was still in his bedroom talking to his friends. Patrick stared at Meagan. His mind was drained and blank, his thoughts unable to coalesce into something tangible. He tried to answer her, but nothing came out.

  “Patrick, Patrick! Look at me! What happened? Are you all right? Did you hit your head?” Lazily, he turned up toward Meagan, her loud voice catching his attention. He had no strength and his head bobbed down. He slumped to the floor. Tears streaked Meagan’s face and she called out for Noah. “Noah! Noah, get in here! Noah!” It took him a few moments to respond as he waited for the match to finish on his game.

  “What is it, Mom—” He stopped short, staring at his dad on the floor.

  “Mom, what happened to Dad?” He fell to the floor beside her.

  “Noah, get my phone, quick. Dial 911!” Noah sat there a moment, fixed on his dad’s motionless body. His father lay curled in a ball, a string of drool down the corner of his mouth. “Hurry, Noah! Now!” Meagan shouted. Noah snapped out of his trance and ran to the living room to find her phone.

  “No,” Patrick said. His voice sounded dry and raspy. “Don’t call them. We don’t need them. I’m…I’m fine,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

  “Mom!” Noah shouted from the other room, “where’s your phone? I can’t find it.”

  “Patrick, you need help. What happened to you?” Meagan asked. She cradled his head in her arms.

  “It’s okay. I just fell. Might be all the exhaustion. Might be I pushed myself too hard today, looking for you.” He closed his eyes, trying to breathe deeply. “It’s okay, Meagan, I’m fine,” he said after a few moments.

  “Mom? Mom, I can’t find your phone. Where is it?”

  “Noah, it’s fine. Your dad is okay.”

  Noah rushed into the bathroom, his eyes glistening.

  “What, Mom? I thought Dad—” and she cut him off with a wave of her hand.

  “He’s fine, Noah. He’s tired and slipped, that’s all. Why don’t we let him rest today, all right?” Noah nodded and backed out of the bathroom. Patrick stared up at Meagan and smiled. He did need some rest. He couldn’t be weak like this for his family.

  He had a weird, upset feeling deep in his gut that something wasn’t right. But for now, he had to rest.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  PATRICK RECOVERED AND rested for several days. Benny talked things over with the chief. He felt bad burdening the department but was thankful they allowed him time to recuperate. He spent the time reading, relaxing, and thinking. His body may have been idle, but his mind was far from it.

  Too many times in the past few months, strange things happened that made no sense, and no one would talk about it.

  He thought about what had happened to Noah, or at least what Noah thought had happened. He made mental notes about the descriptions of the creatures Noah claimed to have encountered; their looks, their movements, their words. None of it made sense. It certainly wasn’t real; that much he knew. Whatever had scared Noah had to be from the boy’s own mind. He had to have made it up, but it seemed real enough to him. Maybe the move had brought it on. He knew this life change might force some internal or mental trauma, though Noah seemed very much in favor of the situation. He’d even found a new friend in Eric, which he didn’t have back in the city.

  Benny presented him with a whole different set of issues. What he’d seen surely didn’t seem normal. The deer and the sounds one night, and the huge, squirming mass of maggots with Noah’s name scrawled in blood. Maybe it was all coincidence. Maybe he’d hallucinated. Maybe none of it actually fit together, and like Noah, he’d only made the connections in his mind. He didn’t know what to make of it.

  Benny acted strangely about it all, too. Patrick wondered if losing his wife and his kids leaving him had prompted his weird behavior. Besides, he was an old, old man. Maybe his mind was starting to go.

  After a day or so of sitting around the house and contemplating the oddness, cabin fever settled in. He figured he’d go to Martha’s Cafe to get out of the house. Benny told him most of the local “philosophers” idly spend their days there with coffee and solutions for the repair of society. If nothing else, their chatter would be a welcome respite from his own thoughts.

  Patrick walked into the cafe. Mixed with the pleasing coffee aroma, he smelled something sweet baking in the back. The lights were dim, and he heard the muffled sounds of conversation and forks on plates. He sat down in a booth by the window and ordered a cup of coffee and a piece of the pie that smelled so good. While he waited for the waitress to return, he saw Benny pull up in his police car and come inside.

  When he walked in, he noticed Patrick. “Hey Patty, how are you?” he asked. His cheek bulged from chew. He sat opposite Patrick.

  “I’m fine, Benny. Coming in for your daily dose of Martha’s best?”

  The waitress, Leann, stopped and dropped off his coffee and a dish with the most tempting piece of blueberry pie Patrick had ever seen.

  “Martha makes some damn good pies, Patty. My favorite is the apple crisp. You won’t find anything better. Leann, can I get a coffee to go, please? Oh, and an extra empty cup?”

  “Sure thing, Benny.”

  “So, I see you’re on your feet today and out of the house. You doing all right, Patty?”

  Patrick nodded. “Yeah, couldn’t be better. I guess I needed some rest; that’s all. Look, I’m sorry I went all crazy on you. My mind raced with horrors, and what we were looking at…well, it got to me.”

  Benny waved it off. “It’s nothing, Patty. Those maggots must have gotten onto one of Amos’s goats or sheep. They cleaned it up, so we can’t know for sure, but it’s all good.”

  At the table next to them, two of the three older men parked there got up and left. The lone man sat drinking his coffee and talking to his waitress as she stopped to clear away his companions’ cups and plates.

  Patrick leaned in and spoke softly. “Benny, I had an encounter at home, too. I found myself surrounded by black suffocating mist. And just as I thought death was on me, it vanished. Benny, it almost killed me!” Benny squinted at him. Leann brought Benny’s coffee and an empty cup. “I’ve got it, Benny. Don’t worry about it. Just put it on my bill.” She nodded and walked off.

  “Patty, I think you got quite an imagination.” Benny spit in the empty cup, the mint scent spoiling Patrick’s enjoyment of his pie.

  Patrick thought a moment before speaking. “Yeah…I guess so.”

  “Well, thanks for the coffee, Patty. When ya coming back on patrol with me? It’s kinda lonely out there.” Benny stood.

  “I should be back the day after tomorrow. I’m sure you can hold the fort down while I’m gone, right?”

  Benny laughed. “Of course I can. Been doing it longer than you’ve been alive.” He spit in his empty cup. “See ya then, Patty. Duty calls.” He walked away.

  As soon as Benny drove off, the older man sitting at the table next to Patrick turned toward him.

  “So, you’re the n
ew cop, eh? The one running with Benny?”

  Patrick smiled warmly. Everyone knew Benny.

  “Yeah, I sure am. Patrick O’Shea,” he said as he stuck out his hand. The man shook it.

  “Virgil Manning. I’m the head librarian at the Samuel Browne Library here in town.” He got up from his table and took the seat opposite Patrick. “So, how do you like it here, Patrick? Nice slow pace of living, eh?” Virgil asked, sipping his coffee. Virgil’s balding head rimmed with white tufts of hair reflected the low light in the cafe.

  Patrick nodded. “Yeah, it sure is different than where I came from.”

  “That’s St. Louis, right?”

  Patrick nodded again, smiling. News did get around fast in these small towns.

  “Yeah, I’m from there. My wife Meagan is from here. Do you know the Boones?”

  “Sure do. Fine people. So, she’s little Meagan Boone, huh? I remember her from way back.” He stroked his chin as he peered at Patrick. “Anyway, I overheard you talking to Benny a few moments ago. Sorry to have eavesdropped, but this place is kinda small and you were right next to me.”

  Patrick’s face flushed. “Yeah, sorry about that, Virgil. Just talk between two cops, that’s all. Nothing important.”

  Virgil nodded. He took a sip of his coffee and leaned back. “Well, I think I might be able to shed some light on that mist ya talked about. Maybe even those maggots, too.”

  Patrick choked on his coffee, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “What did you say?” he asked quietly.

  “I said I might be able to help you understand what’s going on. That is, if you’re interested. A man don’t get to be my age and not learn a thing or two over the years.”

  “How could you possibly help?” Patrick asked.

  “Come on by the library sometime, Patrick. You like books, don’t you? I know Meagan does, what with her book club and all.” Patrick looked at him, unsure what he was trying to get at. “Well, when you get some time, stop on by.” Virgil stood, said his goodbyes, and left the cafe.

  Patrick sat in silence. The more he tried to get back to a normal state of mind, the more something blew it all up. What did this old guy think he might possibly be able to help with? How could he know anything about the black mist? It was a figment of Patrick’s own imagination? And the maggots? Benny had just told him they were probably devouring one of Amos’s animals. The picture of the maggot mass floated in his head and his nostrils suddenly filled with the awful stench of the scene. He stifled a lurch from his stomach and turned his mind away from it. If he didn’t get things pulled together soon, how would he ever be the dad he wanted to be for Noah?

  Noah.

  The thought of his son brought so many emotions. Noah had gone through so much lately. The poor boy’s imagination kept getting the best of him.

  Kinda like yourself, Patrick thought.

  He took a bite of pie. It tasted even better than it smelled. The berries were juicy and slightly tart. The thick sugar-encrusted dough on top balanced it out perfectly. He closed his eyes, trying to enjoy the moment. No mist, no scared little boy, no nothing. He finished and took a cup of coffee to go.

  He walked out of the cafe and decided to take a mind-clearing stroll down Brownsville’s Main Street. He noticed the storefronts of full glass panes without bars. They would never survive back in his old neighborhood. The stores on both sides of the street were old, but in reasonably good shape. Down a few blocks from the café was a park that commemorated some former citizen who did the town good. There was a fountain in the middle and brick seats built into the gardens around it. He sat and watched the water cascade down in the afternoon sun. People walked by, going here and there, and his attention was drawn to the library across the street. He stared at it like it held something wonderful inside.

  Virgil’s offer was tempting, but he didn’t know anything about the old man. He’d never met him before and he didn’t exactly come across as having all his wits. Virgil did know Meagan’s family, though, and that fascinated him. He knew little about the Boones but hearing more from an outside observer might give something intriguing.

  A woman pushed a stroller through the library’s double doors. A moment later, a young man walked out with a couple of books. Patrick wondered what the old man thought he knew. He thought about it for a moment, then stood up. He walked toward the library, passing close enough to the fountain that the water splashed his arm. At the street corner, he waited for the light to change to green.

  At the last minute, he reconsidered and walked away. He felt foolish enough talking about these things to Benny. There was no way he could talk to a stranger. Patrick didn’t want to hear what Virgil thought he knew, because hearing it meant he’d have to try and explain what he saw, and he wasn’t ready or willing to do that. No one needed to know he might be losing his mind.

  Shaking his head, he scolded himself out loud. “Patrick, you just need to clear your head, that’s all.” He walked away, enjoying the rest of the afternoon sun and his wonderful cup of coffee.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  VIRGIL’S CRYPTIC COMMENTS stuck with Patrick for a while. Several times he wanted to bring it up to Benny but couldn’t find a way. In the meantime, he got himself back into mental readiness and on patrol with Benny. The old man never did tire from his duties and Patrick found himself starting to fall back to the same workaholic routine he thought he’d escaped in East St. Louis.

  “Patty,” Benny said one dark night. The mid-August sun had long since taken its bow for the day and the warm night breeze blew through the car as they idled near a sometimes-troubling intersection of old dirt roads.

  Patrick turned to him. “Yeah, Benny?”

  The old man spat out the window. “How’s things with Meagan? You two doing okay?”

  “That’s a strange question to ask, don’t you think? Have I been acting funny lately or something?” Outside in the darkness, a coyote called. The starry sky looked down on them.

  “Well, I only ask because you don’t talk about her anymore. Or Noah. You guys all right? I mean, I know it’s not my place to meddle, but seeing as how I gotta spend a whole bunch of time with you, I’d like to know where your head’s at. I don’t like being caught off guard.”

  Patrick nodded. “We’re fine, Benny, really. I guess it’s an old habit from my days in the city. We didn’t get too involved in each other’s lives outside of work. Things were different there. We kept to ourselves a lot. I’m still not used to everyone knowing something about me here. Heck, I can’t even go to the grocery store without someone recognizing me. I’m not used to that kind of familiarity. Sometimes I’d rather be anonymous like I used to be. Then, no one expects anything more from me.”

  “Patty, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard from you yet. Being part of something greater than yourself and others knowing it is what matters. Those people that say hi to you or want to talk to you while you’re there getting bread are trying to comfort themselves. They want to know the man with the badge is one of them. They want to know that when things get tough—and they always do—that you’ll be there for them. They want to trust you. How many people actually wanted to trust you back in the city, huh?”

  “Well, none.” He rubbed the old wound on his chest.

  “See? Right there, Patty. You got shot because the people didn’t know you and didn’t care about you. How likely do you think it is you’ll get shot by a stranger here? They’ll think twice about it because they know you, and you’re gonna do the same if it comes to it. They recognize you as one of them. They want to believe that when things get bad, you’ll be ready. For them.”

  In the distance, lightning crashed. A moment later, thunder came booming, though muffled. The two men looked toward the lightning.

  “Looks like a storm’s coming, Benny.”

  “Yeah, I saw that one a while back. It won’t do much. It’ll be gone before you know it. Now, as I said, Patty—” He was cut off by a loud crack of thunder much cl
oser than before. “As I said,” Benny started again, “learn to trust the people and let them trust you. You can do it, Patty. Ain’t nothing too much to be afraid of.” He cackled a little before spitting out the window. Drops of rain fell on the car, slowly at first, and within moments, a torrent of rain crashed down. They rolled up the windows and waited.

  A bright streak of lightning struck near them and the loud crack of thunder following made Patrick jump in his seat. Benny laughed. “It’s only a small storm, Patty. Don’t get all scared on me.”

  Patrick tried to ignore him.

  A call came over their radio. “Car twenty-two, what’s your position?”

  Benny picked up the receiver. “Mabel, we’re at the intersection of Maple and Twenty-Third. Why?”

  The voice on the other end came back with a touch of anger. “You’re where? Never mind. There’s a report of an accident down past the bridge on Twin Lakes Road. We’ve got witnesses saying they saw a bright light suddenly veer off the roadway and down into the ditch.”

  “Got it, Mabel. We’ll check it out. Over.” Benny hung the receiver in its cradle and flicked on the lights and siren and took off in the direction of the call.

  Arriving at the scene, they both jumped out of the car. The rain had stopped before they got there, leaving a menacing fog in its wake. Benny turned to Patrick and then back down the side of the road where the accident was supposed to be. “Patty, do you see anything? I know my eyes ain’t what they used to be, but I don’t see no sign of an accident here. Did we get the right place?”