by R. J. Ladon
After the car departed, silence filled the room. Kevin stood. Sure enough, the coal door was low enough to escape back out. He thought about it for a minute, but it would do him no good. He was still naked. He grabbed a blanket off the bed and wrapped it around himself.
Bed?
The coal chute door was still slightly open, allowing light to expose the area. The room was red brick, with a closed wooden door at one end. It had a metal ring where a knob would be. The place looked like a dungeon. I’ve never seen a brick wall in the church basement before. Why would a church have a dungeon? Kevin thought about the predator priests, and his mind whirled. Is Father Patrick McCobbe dangerous? Is this a pedophile cage?
He pushed on the door. No movement. It was locked. Blood ran down his leg as he strained. The cut stung, but the initial pain was gone.
A knock came across the door. “If you’d like to escape, please do so now. I’ll give you another minute or two.” The thick wooden door muffled Father Pat’s voice.
Kevin looked back to the coal chute. He had a blanket now; he could leave.
Father knocked again. “Ready or not, here I come.” The sound of a key in a lock and the door swung outward. Father stood in the doorway with a baseball bat in one hand and the basket in the other.
Kevin scrambled to the other side of the room, keeping the blanket between him and the priest.
“Kevin? Is that you?” Father Patrick leaned the bat against the door jam.
“Yes.” Kevin laughed, embarrassed by the nervous squeak in his voice.
“What are you doing in there?”
Kevin wrapped his arms in front of the blanket. What could he tell the priest?
“What happened? Are you naked? Have you been accosted?” Father Patrick shook his head. “I’m sorry, too many questions.” He backed out of the doorway. “When you’re ready, come out.”
Kevin straightened the blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders, and walked out of the room.
“What’s going on? Why are you in my basement?”
“I don’t know. I woke up in the cemetery.”
Father Patrick’s eyes narrowed. “Are you taking drugs?”
“No, never.” Kevin cleared his throat. “Although if I were, it would explain a lot.” He chewed on his bottom lip, then stopped and looked Father in the eye. “Wait a minute. Why are you attacking me with questions? You know me.” He studied the wooden door. “Why do you have a dungeon in your basement?”
Father lifted his hands and opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it. “I don’t need to justify my actions. But to be fair, most of my questions are because of the damage to my roof. A few of my parishioners have suggested teenagers are to blame.”
Kevin raised his eyebrows. “Really? That motorist called the police before leaving your parking lot. So, when the cops arrive, and they find a naked…a naked me. And that room…” Kevin trailed off. “After the troubles, the Catholic church has had with scandal and predator priests.” He cleared his throat. “Do I have to spell it out?”
Father Patrick crossed his arms and turned red in the face. “I know where you’re going, and I won’t participate in that nonsense.”
Kevin raised his eyebrows. “Well?”
“Okay. You have me over a barrel. Let me explain. Initially, we had young mothers abandon babies on the church landing, between the outer and inner doors. But then someone dropped a baby down the coal chute. The poor darling died when she hit the cement floor. We didn’t know her name, so she was given Kate Sweet.” Father Patrick dabbed at his eyes. “As a church, we came together with a solution so that it wouldn’t happen again. A way to catch a baby safely.” He shook his head. “No babies have been dropped through the coal chute after that one time. Instead, we have caught burglars. Burglars. Can you believe it?”
Kevin shook his head. What could be stolen from a church? A pew? A candle holder? Both of which seemed like ridiculous ideas.
“So, we added walls and made sure anyone we catch can get out on their own. We don’t have to worry about anything becoming stolen. And if we catch someone in need, they have a place to stay that is warm and dry. They have the option of staying and getting help or leaving.”
Kevin nodded. “That explains why there is a bed and blankets in there. I was surprised when I saw it.”
“Why didn’t you leave when you had the chance?”
“I was naked. And I cut my leg on the chute. But mostly because I felt safer here than out there, so I stayed.”
“Cut your leg? The slide is damaged?”
“Yes”
“May I see?” The priest reached for Kevin’s leg then stopped.
Kevin winced a little. “I was afraid to look.” He sighed and moved the blanket aside.
The cut was wide and shallow, more like a rug burn than a slice. Dried blood created a rivulet down to Kevin’s foot.
Father Patrick stood and walked to the coal chute. “I need to examine the slide.”
A section was sliced and turned in on itself, like a dagger. “This looks intentional. You were lucky you only got a scratch.” The priest pushed the offending piece of metal back. “I’ll have to fix that.”
“I have a confession, Father. Would you hear it?”
Father raised his eyebrows. “Down here or in the confessional?”
“Here. Now.” Kevin felt afraid of what he was about to say. But he had to tell someone. He had to release the shame and fear.
“Let’s go in the other room and at least be comfortable.” The priest swept his arm to usher Kevin out of the bricked room.
Kevin sat on a sofa. “I think I’m a monster.”
Father’s eyes glazed as if deep in thought. “All men are monsters. Some men are monsters every moment of every day. Others are only monsters once and a while. What kind of monster are you?”
“Werewolf.”
Father Patrick smiled. “Really? But you’re in a church, on consecrated ground. You know werewolves and vampires are Satan’s minions?”
“No, I didn’t.” Kevin lifted his hand. “I’m wearing a silver ring too.”
“That would be an issue if you were a werewolf.”
Kevin nodded. “What about cemeteries?”
“That’s consecrated ground too. Like a church. Nothing evil can go there.”
“Then what is wrong with me?” Kevin broke and cried. He wanted to say more but couldn’t.
“Nothing, my boy, nothing.” Father leaned in toward Kevin but stopped. “Oh, my, you’re still naked. Have I not offered you some clothes?”
Kevin chuckled uncomfortably. “No.”
“How about a ride home? Did I offer that? Or sanctuary until the mass is over?
“No, I’m afraid not.”
Father Pat shook his head. “I am slipping in my duties.” He looked at his watch. “Mass will be starting in fifty minutes. Some come early to help set up.” He stood. “You know where we keep the donated clothing. Please take what you need. If you’re still here after mass, I’ll find you a ride home.” Father moved closer to Kevin, placing a hand on his head. He mumbled a prayer and said aloud, “Amen.”
The priest moved to leave the room, then paused. “You might want to keep a journal, to keep track of what you ate, how you slept, who you spoke with. Perhaps the answer you seek is within self-reflection.” He waved a hand toward the coal room. “My dungeon is always open.” Father Pat smiled. “But I prefer we meet in the confessional or something more private. I am available to talk if you have the need.”
After Father left, Kevin went into the charity closet. Most of the items were leftovers from rummage sales. He crossed his fingers in hopes that there would be something that would fit and not be outrageous.
Very few of the clothing items were men or boys. Of those items, they were too small or way too large. Kevin looked through the women’s and girl’s items. Much of the clothing that appeared to fit him had glitter or sequins. In the end, he took an extra-large lime green sweats and a tie
-dyed sweatshirt.
None of the charity organizations took underwear or socks. The shoe choice was limited, so Kevin went barefoot.
Kevin jogged on the sidewalk. With every swing of his arms, he cringed, witnessing the bright colors. Kevin could not get home soon enough. He tried to pick up the pace, but barefoot running was hazardous. He watched where his feet landed to avoid rocks and sticks.
Kevin’s mind wondered. If I’m not a werewolf or vampire, what am I? Maybe Father is right. I should journal my activity and food. His big toe caught in the folded pant cuff, and he stumbled, sprawling in the grass next to the sidewalk. He checked for any cuts or road rash. The knee of the sweats ripped, but his skin was undamaged. He stood and continued.
Kevin noticed the tan sedan parked outside his house. Johnny leaned on a supporting post talking to Grandma Ruby. She poured coffee in his thermos.
Grandma spotted Kevin and smiled. She said something to Johnny. He turned and watched Kevin walk up the stairs.
“Where were you, young man?” Johnny smiled and wagged his eyebrows.
“Having fun?” Grandma suggested.
“No, no, nothing like that,” Kevin said.
“Oh, I remember those days. You know it’s a good party when you stumble home in clothes that aren’t yours. Unable to remember anything.” Grandma Ruby smiled, amusement and memories twinkled in her eyes. She studied Kevin then frowned a little. “Are you ok? Would you like some coffee?”
“All I want is a shower. I feel violated.” Kevin squeezed past, noting Johnny’s name and phone number on her cast.
After a long, warm shower and changing into clean clothes, he remembered Father Pat’s suggestion. He thought about using his laptop but decided against it, pushing it aside. Kevin pulled the composition notebook from a drawer. He read the spell Grandma Ruby chose, trying to remember the night he cast it, then turned the page and began writing.
Chapter 29
M egan lay back among her blankets and pillows, looking through The Chinese Black-Market book. She flagged a few pages with sticky notes. Among the stories of animal and human hardship were mugshots of the people who were caught selling animal parts. These people had horrible stories too, no jobs, no money, and a hungry family. In their minds, who would miss one elephant or rhino? There were no winners in these tragic stories. Megan skimmed the photos of men, women, and children. They all looked miserable, except for a few that had smug countenance. One of which was a Chinese woman that looked familiar. Was that Tai Lu? The same woman who rented the stones to the museum? The name was in Chinese characters, and she couldn’t read it.
A gentle knock rattled her closed door. “Nikolai has found some information on the men who escaped the morgue. I’m going to the gym. You have an open invitation to come along.”
Megan tossed the book on the bed. “Yes, please. I need to get out of the house. I feel like a caged animal.”
Artem chuckled uncomfortably. He cleared his throat and said, “Grab your shoes and jacket. It’s cold and windy.”
She unlocked her bedroom door, collected a few protein bars, and joined her father in the car. Artem drove the car like a man who’d lost his license and was afraid of being caught. Every stop was complete, and every turn blinked. Megan smiled, knowing his paranoia extended to almost everything he did.
Artem pulled into the gym parking lot. He drove past the normal parking area to the side, where Nikolai’s car sat. They stepped out of the vehicle and entered a side door that was marked, “Emergency exit only, this door is alarmed.”
Nikolai stood waiting for them. “I heard you drive up.” He waved them deeper into the building. “I have found some interesting data on the men Megan killed.”
“I only killed one.” Megan frowned. “And I didn’t do that right, apparently.”
Nikolai chuckled. “No need to take offense.” He led them into his apartment, then handed over some paperwork to Artem. The title on the top of the page implied it was official paperwork from the coroner. Megan leaned into her father’s arm and read.
“What the hell does that mean?” Megan pointed to a line that said: Cause of death inconclusive time of death inconclusive.
“Look here.” Nikolai took the paper and turned it around. He tapped a highlighted paragraph:
“Subject has a combination of living and dead tissues. The subject has a temperature of one hundred point seven a full hour after the time of death. Tissues of the subject appear to function autonomously. Circulatory and respiratory systems appear to be in an advanced state of decay. No blood found in the subject. The nervous system appears to be functioning normally.”
Artem raised his eyebrows. “Dead but not dead? Alive but not living? Where did you get this?”
“It is exactly what you think. From the coroner’s office.”
Artem raised a finger. “Is it the official document?”
Nikolai bowed to his friend. “This document was discarded. The official record is everything you see there, except that paragraph.”
“Now, I understand why the cops wanted to know how the men died. They had nothing conclusive.” Megan nodded.
“You didn’t admit to anything, did you?” Artem asked.
“You’ve taught me better than that.” Megan turned to Nikolai. “I heard the bodies are missing. Is that true?”
Nikolai nodded. “My source tells me the office went home for the evening, and when they returned the next morning, the refrigerated room was open, and those two bodies were gone. No sign of entry, forced or permitted.” He raised his hands. “They’ve had break-ins in the past, so their security is quite good. Surveillance and motion detection covers the entire office, especially the examining room. Lots of contention in a courtroom whether an autopsy was botched or not. Tampering of evidence can start early in an investigation.” Nikolai shook his head, amazed someone would sink so low.
Megan looked at her father. “Clearly, this is not the work of Russian mafia.”
Artem shrugged. “Nikolai and I have seen quite a bit while we were in Russia, have we not, old friend?”
“Sure, but nothing like this.”
A look of betrayal covered Artem’s face as if the undead were an everyday occurrence in Russia, and Nikolai wasn’t admitting it. “This wasn’t the only reason you asked us to come over, is it?” His words came out sharp and biting.
“No. We discovered some data on the people who adopted Annie.”
“Seems weird to adopt someone who’s eighteen,” Megan remarked.
“Actually, it isn’t.” Nikolai sat on the loveseat. “Let’s say you were given up at birth and were adopted. When you’re thirty, you find your real family, and they want you to rejoin, for medical or financial reasons. They can adopt you to make it legal.”
“Oh.” Megan frowned. “So, her parents aren’t necessarily dead.”
“Right.” Nikolai nodded.
“Is that it?”
Nikolai sighed and shook his head. “If you’re not interested in listening, you can go home. I will bring Megan when we are done.”
Artem sat in the rocker. “I’ll wait.” He crossed his arms.
Megan rolled her eyes and looked to Nikolai. Her father wanted undeniable proof that Russia was behind the attack on his daughter, and when that proof didn’t materialize, he behaved like a baby. “Continue, Nikolai, I’m curious,” Megan encouraged.
“Annie’s new parents, Mr. and Mrs. Fredrick, have a record of their own. For most of their early career as criminals, they did little things like shoplifting and purse snatching. Petty stuff. Though recently, they have gotten into higher stakes robbery, identity theft, and blackmail. We are not certain if the names, Mr. and Mrs. Fredrick, are theirs. Now, this really isn’t a big deal. But they have joined forces with an even larger organization called Order of the Eye and Tooth. This organization has been directing them to manipulate young women all over the country. It seems Annie is only one of many.”
“Order of the Eye and Tooth
? What does it mean?” Megan asked.
Nikolai shrugged. “We can’t find much. The OET is Fate-oriented, as in the Greek Fates. The group appears to be matriarchal in nature.”
Megan interrupted, “Matriarchal? As in female-led?”
“Exactly.”
“I can see how that would be appealing to some.” Megan looked at her, still pouting father. “If this, Mr. and Mrs. Fredrick are helping young women who were raped or hurt by men. Then it stands to reason that they could gather an army.”
“And not just by themselves. There are hundreds of camps like the one Annie attended. Nearly ninety percent of those are run by someone associated with the OET.” Nikolai offered her a color pamphlet of the camp Annie attended. Emblazoned on the front was the familiar name Distressed and Troubled Teens. Beneath were many young women participating in camp activities. It all appeared benign. Nikolai tapped the bottom corner where there was a distinctive logo of an eye with a sharp slit pupil. “I believe this is the symbol for the Order of the Eye and Tooth.”
Megan waved her hands. “Okay, fine. But why? What is the purpose of the OET? What is their end game? Why are they in Avalon?”
Nikolai shrugged. “No one outside of their group seems to know anything. I assume it is like any other religious cult. They could be looking for a new place to set up another camp or church?”
“I heard Annie talking about sisters.”
Nikolai nodded. “Sounds like they are recruiting.”
Megan frowned. “I’m not so sure. The way she said sisters made it sound like a distinct group. Like a set of twins.” She felt like the explanation was inadequate. “I don’t know.”
Nikolai consoled her with a smile. “It’s hard to see with the eyes and heart of someone you don’t know or understand.”
Chapter 30
K evin walked downstairs to dig up lunch when he heard voices coming from the kitchen. He sat on the stairs and eavesdropped.
“So, then, I ran in the room and pulled my gun.” Johnny laughed. “But.” He snorted, breathed deep a couple of times, then continued. “But the guy was too busy, ah, getting busy.”