by Jay Barnson
Her mother turned away from the image on the tablet with a revolted expression. “Why did you show me that? Whose body is that?”
“We haven’t identified it yet. We wanted to show this to you before the authorities get here.”
“Why? What y’all are showing me makes no sense. If y’all think this thing hurt those people, y’all ought to put it out of its misery right now.”
“You have no objection to us taking it away?”
Linda Rose stared straight at Jessabelle-the-cat, and said, “Yes, I’d rather y’all kill the beast right now. I’d rather know for sure that it ain’t going to hurt anyone ‘round here no more.”
Jessabelle’s heart froze. This was her personal nightmare, not something that could happen in real life. Her mother couldn’t possibly be telling them to kill her only daughter, could she?
The man nodded. “If you can’t be convinced, fine. I understand the downed power line has been cleared from the road, so we can take her immediately. But...”
Jessabelle transformed into Jessabelle-the-girl. “Mama?” she said quietly.
Jessabelle’s mother reeled backwards, bumping up against a console on the other side of the truck. “No!” she shrieked. “No, it’s not possible! What did you do to Jessabelle?”
Jessabelle could swear that she saw the ghost of a grin appear on the man’s lips. “I’m sorry to have to bring you this terrible news, ma’am. But as I said, we have experience with this sort of thing, as have certain divisions of law enforcement. They are not going to bat an eye at the idea that a shape-shifter—your daughter—could be involved.”
Jessabelle cried out. “I didn’t hurt nobody, Mama! They’re lying.”
Linda’s voice quivered. “Did she kill that person in the woods?”
The man shrugged. “We don’t know. But the authorities—those who are familiar with these unusual cases—will reach the same conclusion we did. They won’t treat her condition the way we will. We’ll give her the care she needs, keep her safe, and remove her from consideration as a threat here. You’ll be able to visit her after a few months, and once she completes the program, she’ll be free. You all will be free. It’s her only chance, Mrs. Rose, but we don’t have much time.”
Jessabelle pleaded. “Don’t let them take me away, Mama! I didn’t do anything!”
Tears rolled down Linda’s cheeks. “What do I need to do?”
“We’ve got some papers for you to sign, granting us power of attorney and so forth. We need to act fast, before the police get here. We can get the paperwork started now while we take her to safety. I’ll explain everything as we go.”
Linda stared at Jessabelle. Her eyes held fear and disbelief behind the tears. Linda Rose might as well be looking at a dangerous stranger.
“It’s me, Mama!” Sobs welled up within Jessabelle. “It’s me! I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But it’s me! Don’t let them take me.”
The man scowled. “Mrs. Rose? Mrs. Rose, I know you have a lot of questions, and there’ll be time to sort all this out later. But we’ve got to get going and remove your daughter from the scene as quickly and as quietly as possible. Can we do that? Ma’am?”
Linda still stared, and her lips moved without words coming out, almost like a prayer. Jessabelle made out the mouthed words, “I’m sorry,” but that was all. Linda turned her back on Jessabelle and the man guided her out of the truck.
Jessabelle wailed as they shut the door with a heavy thud that didn’t belong to thin aluminum. Seconds later, the truck lurched, the great wheels struggling against the accumulated mud from the night before. Jessabelle prayed the truck would get stuck, and this whole impossible nightmare would end with the bad guys unable to leave Maple Bend. But then the truck rumbled and found its traction.
Jessabelle screamed. Nobody heard.
At dawn, Jenny and Jack ate a quick breakfast of nuts and hard bread.
After shaking their blankets clean and packing their bags, they set back out along the creek. For the first few minutes, they walked in silence. Then they talked about high school and favorite movies, and everything seemed right enough to Jack. He was still sore from moving rocks the afternoon before, but after the first half hour the pain blended into the background. The next three hours passed quickly as they followed the creek, although the terrain was sometimes nearly impassible. The game trails Jack used to follow back in Maple Bend were like paved roads by comparison.
It was almost a surprise to Jack when they came to a clearing along a valley in the outskirts of Hobbfield. His mental picture of the village had come from bad fantasy movies and cartoons, with Tudor style walls and bucolic fields. He’d never admit to it, but there were probably princesses singing to small animals in his imagination. Instead, Hobbfield seemed to be out of the state history textbook from the late nineteenth or early twentieth century. Those pictures were in black-and-white, but the scene before him popped in vivid color. Granted, most of the buildings were white, but the shutters and doors were brightly painted. Men and boys gathered along the dirt road through the middle of the village wearing pants and vests of browns and dark blues, with long-sleeved shirts and wide-brimmed hats. The women wore even more colorful clothing, mostly with long-sleeved blouses and skirts of several colors. They wore hats and bonnets with simple patterns, not always matching the rest of their clothing.
The villagers had gathered around two carts filled with barrels and sacks. A man with a long gray-blond beard stood on one cart with a board with paper in one hand and a quill pen in the other. His voice was raised at another man, and the rest of the crowd murmured among themselves. No one noticed Jack and Jenny as they approached.
Their accents were strange, sort of a blend between the accents of the West Virginian old-timers, with maybe a bit of a Scottish accent like he’d heard on TV. The man on the cart pointed with a quill toward another man standing on the ground and said, “Silas, we aren’t even at two-thirds yet. You’ve contributed less than half of your share.”
The man being addressed had a handlebar mustache, and wore no vest over his suspenders. A woman, presumably his wife, stood behind him, holding an infant. Four other children ranging in age between two and twelve, Jack guessed, huddled around the woman. The man with the mustache shook his head. “At the end of harvest, maybe I could, but not today. Y’all talk about starving at wintertime, but if I pay any more, my family won’t make it to winter.”
“If we don’t meet their demands, none of us will make it to winter!”
The man on the ground crossed his arms. “Then we explain. Maybe they’ll be reasonable.”
A woman, whom Jack couldn’t see called, “And how reasonable have they proven to be so far, Silas?”
The grumblings from the rest of the villagers grew louder, until the man on the cart raised his hand. The volume dropped, but the conversations didn’t end. The man on the cart said, “Look, Silas, we’re all in this together. We’ll make sure your family won’t starve.”
Again, Silas shook his head. “I appreciate that, Barnaby. I know all y’all mean it today, when your children’s bellies ain’t empty. When that day comes, charity and old promises will fail. I’m sorry, I’ve given more than I have to spare as it is. Besides, my portion wouldn’t make a difference. Y’all know that. We don’t have enough.”
“What other choice do we have?” The man called Barnaby looked around the crowd with a pleading gaze. His eyes settled on Jack and Jenny, and his jaw dropped. “Why have y’all come so early? We’re only working out details now. Tell Zainus not to fret. We’ll have the delivery ready by nightfall.”
Jack glanced at Jenny, who looked equally clueless. While Jack didn’t relish the gaze of the crowd, Jenny wilted under the sudden attention. Without thinking, Jack stepped partly in front of her and said, “Sorry, sir. I don’t know who Zainus is.”
Barnaby rubbed his chin. “Oh, ah, sorry then, strangers. I hope I didn’t offend y’all with my presumption. Where do y’all come from?”
Jack shrugged. “Just up the mountain. We’re staying with Annabelle Rose.”
The man’s eyebrows nearly launched themselves off his forehead and the corners of his mouth turned upwards slightly from their neutral, slack-jawed position. “Granny Annabelle sent y’all to us?”
Jack shrugged again. Of course she had. “Yes, sir. We came with a list of a few things...”
The people cheered. Jack raised his voice to finish, “...a few things that we need to get for her.”
Barnaby nodded. “Of course, of course, anything she needs. She always deals fairly with us. She never spoke to us of you, however, Mister...?”
“Oh, I’m Jack Parsons. This is Jenny Morgan. Jenny here is Annabelle’s granddaughter.”
“We’re pleased to meet you, Jack, and Jenny. Jenny, do you share your grandmother’s gifts in witchcraft?”
Jenny nodded, drawing closer to Jack. “Some,” she said.
Barnaby raised the paper and the quill toward them as people surrounded them. “She must have great faith in y’all to entrust y’all with this errand.”
Jack said, “It really ain’t a big deal. She’s just busy with some important matters on her end.”
Barnaby looked at the crowd and said, “This changes nothing yet. But we should attend to our guests immediately. They must be tired and hungry.”
A woman with gray-streaked raven hair stepped beside them and announced, “I’ll take care of them, Barnaby. I’ll make sure they are readied with everything they need.”
Jack looked at the woman and asked, “Are you Vanya?”
She smiled. “I am. Come with me.”
Jack breathed a sigh of relief that things had gone so well, in spite of the villagers being in an obvious state of crisis. They dressed strangely, and their accent was unusual, but that would describe just about everyone more than fifty miles from Jack’s hometown. They were just folks.
Vanya took them to her house, a two-story building with muted yellow walls and brown trim. To deal with the uneven ground, half of the house was supported by stone piles. The windows were covered by wooden shutters closed against the bright summer sun. The inside of the home was dark, but surprisingly cool even at mid-day. “Can I get y’all something to eat? I have plenty of beans in the pot. I can get them for y’all right away, or I can heat them up if y’all don’t mind waiting.”
Jenny said, “On a day like this, I don’t think we need it warmed.”
Vanya smiled. “I’ll be right back. Will last night’s cornbread be okay?”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Jack said. “We have money...”
“I ain’t taking it for beans and cornbread. ‘Specially not as Annabelle sent y’all. Have a seat there.” She pointed to a room with a couch and three stuffed chairs. “There’s a basin in the next room if y’all want to freshen up a bit. I’ll be out back in the kitchen if y’all think of anything else you need.”
Vanya left out the back door, careful to close it behind her. Jack and Jenny looked at each other, the dim room becoming easier to see as their eyes adjusted. The furniture was obviously hand-crafted out of solid, heavy wood, built slightly smaller than most modern furniture. Two paintings of landscapes adorned the walls, as well as a black-and-white photograph of a couple. The photograph was printed on a thin metal plate instead of paper, dark around the edges and corners. While it looked vintage, the woman in the photograph could easily have been Vanya twenty years earlier.
Jenny peered through the window, moving her head up and down to peer between the slats of the shutters. She sighed and gave up. “What do you think is going on out there?” Jenny asked.
Jack shrugged. “Sounds like they owe someone, and are having trouble paying.”
“I wonder if that means they won’t have enough supplies for my Grandma.”
“I reckon I could ask if there’s anything I can do to help out. Annie sent extra money with us. Maybe we can give it to them, and see if that might make some difference.”
Jenny stared at him for several seconds. She pursed her lips, but couldn’t stop the smile from coming through. Jack wiped at his nose self-consciously. “What? Do I have a booger hanging out or something?”
She laughed and shook her head. “No. I just... You’re a good guy, Jack. Don’t change.”
“Me? No, I ain’t...”
“Hey, don’t lie, Jack!”
Vanya reappeared, summoning them into the dining room. Two places were set on a small, heavy wooden table. The plates were filled with black beans, vegetables, and cornbread. “Vittles!” she said. “It ain’t much, but it ought to help you get your strength back after your trip. Now, Annabelle usually comes with what she calls her shopping list. Did she send you with one?”
Jenny nodded and produced the list from her bag. “Jack’s got the money to pay for it.”
Vanya nodded, taking the list and the payment. “I’ll get on that right away. Once Zainus is out of our hair, I’ll be able to send someone out to the city. It will probably take only a couple of weeks, if there’s nothing too strange on the list. Anyway, eat up. Let me know if y’all need anything more.” Before Jenny or Jack could say anything else, she was gone again, bustling through another door.
Jack and Jenny ate quickly. The food was plain compared to what they were used to in their world, and even compared to Annie’s dishes, but it was still tasty and satisfying after their two-day trek. A pitcher on the table was filled with cold water, which they poured into clay cups. It probably came from Blood Creek, just as the water from their canteens, but somehow it tasted better.
They’d barely finished when Vanya returned, brightening the room with her broad smile. Jack stood. Vanya gathered up their plates, cups, and utensils on a tray, like a waitress. She set the tray on the table and said, “Now, I’ll go set up a room for y’all for tonight. Or rooms. I’m sorry. Are y’all two married?”
Jenny snorted.
Jack stammered. “Um, no, ma’am. We’re just friends. And we’re too young to be married. I’m only seventeen. At least for a few more weeks.”
Jenny turned to Jack with an exaggerated pout. “You weren’t going to tell us your birthday was coming up? We would have missed it!”
Jack shrugged and leaned back in the sturdy wooden chair. “It ain’t that important. I’ll be turning eighteen. I reckon I’ll have to start acting like an adult or something.”
“I’ll be seventeen in August. You’ll be an old man.”
Jack grinned.
Vanya raised an eyebrow. “Y’all don’t look that young. Jack, you look at least twenty. Around here, women are often married before they turn eighteen. Sometimes as young as fifteen.”
Jenny gave Vanya a sour look. “That’s creepy.”
“I married my first husband when I was sixteen.”
Jenny covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, I’m so sorry, ma’am! I didn’t mean to... I mean... it’s just considered too young where we’re from!”
Vanya laughed. “Don’t fret. Annabelle has told me a great deal about y’all’s world. Folks around here who remember and believe in it call it the Dark World. Things there probably sound as strange to me as ours do to y’all. Still, I apologize for taking y’all to be so old. I’ll fix up separate rooms, then. Is there anything else you need to, you know, prepare?”
Prepare? Unsure of what she meant, Jack had something else to get off his mind. “Yes, one thing. I guess there ain’t a good time to mention this. We found a body on the way here.”
“A body?”
“Yes, ma’am. He was carrying a gold coin, two other coins—maybe silver—and a container of salt. We thought he might have come from here.”
Her bright expression collapsed. “Yes, that would be Oliver, my late husband’s nephew.”
“Oh, no!” Jenny said, again covering her mouth.
Jack bowed his head. “I’m sorry, ma’am. We should have said something right away.”
“It ain’t like I gave you a chance
to get a word in edgewise. We warned him not to follow the creek, because the bandits would be watching. I s’pose that explains why he didn’t come back with you.” Her eyes widened. “Wait, does that mean he never made it to Annabelle’s?”
Jack shook his head. “No. He looked like he’d been dead a couple of days. We did our best to cover him up with rocks. We can take y’all up there to show you where he is.”
Vanya’s brows furrowed as she stepped toward the window, peering through the shutter slats toward the town center. “So if he never made it, how did Annabelle know to send y’all?”
Jenny answered. “She needed supplies and can’t leave right now. She sent us down to get them.”
“That’s all?”
“Yes.”
Vanya braced herself on the table. “Oh, no. I have to warn everyone, then. I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry about what?” Jack asked.
“We sent Oliver up the mountain to get Annabelle’s help. We all assumed she sent you to save us from Zainus and his bandits!”
Jessabelle wanted to sleep, to fall back into tranquilizer-induced unconsciousness, but sleep wouldn’t come. There was no way to get comfortable inside her cage. Even ignoring her hunger, she wouldn’t give these bastards the satisfaction of changing into an animal again. Unless they had ice-cold hearts and zero morals as human beings, they had to feel bad about abusing a human girl. And if they were so heartless and cruel, maybe they’d at least get sloppy and forget about what she could do. Instead of sleeping, she made herself feel better by fantasizing about the revenge she’d take on them when she had the chance. She didn’t actually believe she could do it, but the fantasies made her feel better.
They’d been on the road for almost two hours. She didn’t think the truck could go very fast, especially around the steep switchbacks she felt them taking from time to time so they couldn’t be that far from Maple Bend. Finally the truck stopped, and the engine rumbled off. The lights dimmed as the electronic equipment switched to low-power mode running off batteries. The hiss of air from the climate system, which she hadn’t noticed before, ceased. She felt more than heard the sounds of the cab doors opening and closing. They’d soundproofed the walls of the truck well.