The Spirits of Six Minstrel Run

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The Spirits of Six Minstrel Run Page 33

by Matthew S. Cox


  That’s it. Nothing in here. Keep walking.

  Footsteps crunched around the shed behind her, passing so close she could’ve hit him with the pipe if not for the wall between them. He continued around the corner and lingered by the right side, near the hole she’d blocked off with the shelf… but resumed walking after a moment.

  Mia exhaled.

  The crunch of Weston moving among the weeds grew distant. Soon, only the clatter of tools and the rustle of wind reached her ears. She held still, certain Weston remained close enough to hear any noise they might make.

  Robin looked up, her expression asking ‘is he gone?’ Mia relaxed her death grip on the pipe and reached across with her left hand to squeeze the girl’s arm. She waited another moment before she entertained the idea that Weston might have missed them.

  Sensing Mia relax a little, Robin stopped trembling.

  The wall beside the shelf burst apart in a spray of splintering, rotted wood. Little white bugs rained over the floor, scurrying for cover. Weston ducked his head, stepping in the new doorway. Blue veins swelled beneath his eyes on either side of his face, his cheeks wrinkled and pale.

  Robin screamed, let go of Mia’s arm, and scooted back against the wall.

  “There you are,” said Weston, grinning. “Since you are both making things more difficult than they need to be, perhaps instead of bringing the demon to holy ground… I should bring the holy ground to the demon.” He spread his arms to the sides, knife in one hand, crucifix in the other. “Lord, consecrate this ground with thy holy bles—”

  Mia roared and crawled out from under the workbench. Weston kicked at her before she could stand, but she swatted his leg aside. The pipe hit him near the ankle, emitting a hollow, metallic thump. He howled, stumbling back into the wall, cracking the boards. A small shelf above him collapsed, dumping an old lantern and several small boxes to the ground.

  She sprang up into a charge, swinging the pipe for his head. The old man dove out of the way with surprising agility then thrust the knife up at her chest. Mia shoved the pipe down, smacking the blade away. He slashed a second time before she could recover enough balance to counterattack. Again, she managed to get the pipe in the way.

  Weston snarled and tried to duck around her to the workbench. She hefted the pipe over her head, chopping it down at him with every bit of strength she could salvage, grunting from the effort. Weston flung himself to her left, diving flat on the ground. Committed to a swing that hit nothing but air, Mia stumbled forward. Weston rolled on his side and sliced at her ankle, but she jumped aside and scrambled to put herself once again between him and Robin.

  “This is for your own good, child,” said Weston while clambering upright. “The demon has taken your mind, made you see things that aren’t there. That isn’t your daughter. It’s a fiend”

  “Bullshit!” shouted Mia. “You’re insane!”

  “That’s right, preacher man,” said Vic, though Weston’s lips didn’t match the voice. “You gotta save that woman. She needs to be alive to watch the demon go back to hell. Bye bye, Mommy.”

  “No!” roared Mia, stepping into another swing.

  Weston mostly leaned out of the way, but she still caught him in the left arm, knocking him three steps to the side. He gasped in pain, losing his grip on the crucifix. She drew the pipe back, poised for another strike. Weston let out a crazed shout, lunging for her face. Mia rounded the pipe, trying to take his hand off.

  Steel crashed into steel.

  His wrist bent from the force of the hit, but he didn’t lose his grip on the blade. Like a man possessed, he slashed at her again and again, invocations to God launching spittle from his mouth. She slashed and swatted while backing away, sword-fighting with a pipe until her butt hit the workbench and she had nowhere else to go. She had the advantage of reach—the only reason he hadn’t drawn blood—but her ponderous weapon allowed no time to attack him between rapid slashes.

  Weston leaned back for a thrust at her heart.

  With a shout of rage, Mia dodged to the right while swinging in a flat arc. The knife missed her by a few inches and jabbed into the workbench. The pipe slipped under his arm, crashing into his ribs with a thud and a sharp crunch. Weston clamped his arm down, trapping her weapon. Mia set her heels and pulled at the pipe. His fist came out of nowhere and hit her in the cheek, the added weight of the knife in his grip knocked her momentarily senseless. She lost her hold on the pipe and collapsed over sideways. Her cheek on the floor, she stared vacantly at two fat termites a few inches in front of her eye.

  “Mommy!” screamed Robin.

  Weston stepped over Mia.

  She grunted, wanting to push herself up, but her arm didn’t obey. The termites crawled off over the dust, seeming in no hurry to be anywhere. Robin screamed in fright. Boxes and junk clattered from the girl’s attempt to scoot deeper under the workbench.

  No! Oh, shit what’s wrong with me? Did he break my neck? Why can’t I move?

  “Mommy!” screamed Robin.

  Mia’s vision flashed white. The decaying shed became a courthouse. Mia raised a small, black .38 revolver at the back of Vic’s head. A young deputy beside him merely watched.

  Bang!

  The courthouse vanished. At a tickle creeping over her left hand, Mia shifted her gaze to a termite climbing her thumb. Her fingers twitched. Despite the throbbing pain in her face, she drew strength out of the deepest recesses of her being. You will not hurt my daughter!

  Half her body regained feeling; Mia struggled over onto her side.

  Weston grabbed Robin by the ankle and dragged her out from under the workbench, the knife in his right hand raised over his head. The tiny child lay flat on her back, gazing up at him with the same look she must’ve had on her face that awful night almost fifty years ago.

  Grunting, Mia forced her right arm and leg to move, pushing herself up to sit, refusing to surrender, refusing to allow the scene she couldn’t bear to watch as a psychic vision happen in reality. She glanced around, but didn’t see the pipe anywhere. A random urge drew her attention to the right—at an axe leaned against the wall, almost invisible under a thick coating of cobwebs and dust.

  “Please don’t kill me again!” screamed Robin.

  Weston hesitated. “Close your eyes, girl.”

  “Do it!” roared Vic.

  “If I close my eyes, you’re gonna kill me.”

  Mia forced herself up to stand on shaky legs and grabbed the axe. An eruption of scurrying spiders raced up the wall at the disturbance, so many they resembled black smoke. The shed spun, wobbling side to side. She fixated on the small figure struggling to pull away from Weston’s hold on her leg.

  A deep chuckle emanated from Weston. “Keep them open then. The Lord has given me the strength to do what must be done.”

  “No, please!” yelled Robin, stomping her free foot at the hand around her ankle.

  Mia raised the axe and staggered toward him as fast as she could make her stubborn legs move.

  Robin closed her eyes, cringing away.

  Weston shouted, “I condemn you to Hell in the name of—”

  Mia smashed the axe blade flat against Weston’s head, knocking him over sideways, out cold. “I condemn you to unconsciousness in the name of Craftsman.”

  “Mommy!” Robin leapt into a hug that almost took Mia off her feet.

  She lowered the axe, bracing it against the ground to use as a cane. Her head still spun, the walls continuing to sway about… but not as much as a moment ago. “Crazy old bastard.”

  “Is he a ghost?” whispered Robin.

  “No… at least not yet.” She kicked the knife away, launching it under the workbench, and stood there for a few minutes until the dizziness faded. Unfortunately, a nasty headache took its place.

  “Mia Gartner?” called a distant male voice.

  She tossed the axe aside, picked Robin up, and carried her out the giant hole in the wall.

  46

  Complete
ly Truthful

  Saturday, June 22, 2019

  Clean air scrubbed the essence of moldy wood and dust from Mia’s throat.

  “Over here,” called Mia, her voice more rasp than tone.

  “Here!” shouted Robin, much louder than her.

  She trudged a few paces away from the shed and stopped, her legs threatening to give out at any moment. She held—more like wore—Robin close to her chest.

  Nate Ross and Deputy Wilmott emerged from the trees on the far side of the clearing, a bit of distance between them. Nate spotted her first, called “Chris” while pointing at her, and hurried over.

  “He’s in the shed,” wheezed Mia. She swallowed saliva and found a bit more of a voice. “Weston… in the shed.”

  Deputy Wilmott went inside while Nate guided Mia to sit on a nearby fallen tree. He took a small knife from his belt and cut the duct tape from Robin’s arm, then checked them both over. Mia flinched away from the penlight in her eyes.

  “I know what this looks like,” muttered Mia. “The whole town’s aware we’ve been at odds with that man since we arrived… but he went crazy, wanted to drag my daughter to his church so he could kill her on holy ground. He stabbed…” She blinked. “Adam! Is he?”

  “Your husband is doing all right the last I heard.” Nate peeled Mia’s left hand away from Robin to examine the knife slash on her forearm. “So, the town pastor randomly snaps and tries to wipe out a nice little family? I think you might not be giving me the whole story.”

  She looked up at him, too exhausted to care. “Okay… Weston thinks my house is cursed. He’s been at war with that place for decades. He went nuts and tried to kill my daughter because she looks like Robin Kurtis. And I think he’s possessed. Vic said killing her was Weston’s idea and he only gave him the strength to do it, but I have no idea if he’s lying. The man really did seem to snap when he saw her.”

  “He never liked me,” said Robin.

  Deputy Wilmott dragged an unconscious, handcuffed Weston out of the shed.

  Nate half-smiled at Mia. “I’m still not sure you’re being completely honest with me.”

  Mia sighed. “You think I wanted to kill Weston?”

  “No.” His smile became genuine. “That little girl doesn’t simply look like Robin Kurtis.” He winked. “Good to see you two back together.”

  Her jaw hung open.

  Nate hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “Of course, I can’t exactly put that in my report or I’ll wind up in the padded cell right next to Weston. So, I imagine we’re actually dealing with a senile priest who for reasons unknown decided to snap and attempt to abduct your daughter.”

  Robin stopped sniffling and lifted her face away from Mia’s shoulder. “He didn’t try to abduct me. He did abduct me.”

  “I mean…” Nate patted her on the head. “He wasn’t successful. He attempted to kidnap you, but your mother stopped him. Anyway, right now, looks like you could use a doctor yourself. That’s a nasty cut on your cheek.”

  Mia grabbed at the air. “Had a giant knife in his hand… punched me. I’m still a little dizzy. Knife’s under the workbench.”

  “C’mon. Bit of a walk back to the truck.” Nate helped her up and pulled her arm across his shoulder.

  Robin squirmed until she slipped down to stand. “I can walk. Mommy’s hurt.”

  Deputy Wilmott hoisted Weston over his shoulder.

  Overcome with relief and exhaustion, Mia let Nate guide her along amid a blur of trees.

  Mia found herself awake in a bed at the hospital, floating on a mild high from painkillers.

  Adam, as far as she knew, remained asleep in a different area of the hospital, but a nurse told her some time ago he’d made it through surgery okay. Her injuries had been less serious, requiring only disinfecting, stitches, and antibiotics. They wanted to keep her a day or two for observation since they suspected she’d suffered a mild-to-moderate concussion.

  Wilhelmina had spent the rest of the daylight hours here with Robin and would watch her until they let Mia go home. The girl had not been happy to be separated from her, but her only protest had been quiet sobs.

  Nate and a woman with short blonde hair, Deputy Allison Clark, walked in a little after nine that night.

  “You in any shape to give a statement, Mrs. Gartner?” asked Nate.

  “I’m a little high, but sure. Pain’s stopped… or at least I can’t feel it now.”

  “Great. We won’t be long.” Allison pulled up a chair and sat.

  Mia grinned at Nate. “Which version do you want? The actual truth, or the truth normal people will accept?”

  “People here in Spring Falls are quite familiar with that house of yours.” He sat on the other visitor’s chair. “Might surprise you what they’d believe, but it’s not them we’re concerned with. Why don’t we get the ‘reasonable’ truth out of the way first, and if you still feel like talking afterward, you can give my deputy here nightmares.”

  Allison rolled her eyes.

  “All right… From the day we moved to Spring Falls, Weston had been pestering us about joining his church. He thought the house had the Devil in it and our souls were in danger. When my husband met Wilhelmina Marx at the university and we became friends, Weston couldn’t handle it. You know he thinks they’re like actual witches? Who believes in that stuff?”

  Nate smiled, as did Allison.

  “So… anyway… I don’t really know what made him lose his mind like that, but he thought my daughter was a demon.” Mia blinked. “Oh, shit. I forgot to call Janet.”

  “Who’s Janet?”

  “My boss. The fire alarm went off where I work and I was supposed to go meet with the fire department.”

  “I’ll call her when we’re done here. Do you have her number?” Nate looked up from his notepad.

  “Yeah, it’s in my phone. I don’t know it by heart.”

  Allison pointed. “The phone that’s right next to you?”

  Mia glanced at the little table beside the bed. Her phone and purse sat beside her. “Oh, where did that come from? Never mind. I’m high. They gave me the good stuff.”

  According to the phone, Janet had tried to call her nine times. After giving Nate the number, she proceeded to explain everything that happened after the inexplicable urge to turn around hit her. Due to the painkillers, she even admitted to speeding, though neither of them appeared to care.

  “Nothing quite like a mother’s intuition.” Nate flipped his pad closed. “All right. Thank you for your time. Go on and get some rest.”

  “Thanks…” Mia closed her eyes and let the painkillers carry her off to sleep.

  Epilogue

  A Little Magic

  Saturday, August 10, 2019

  The smell of pancakes filled the kitchen.

  Robin bounced in her seat, a huge smile on her face at the plate Mia set in front of her. Adam eased himself into the chair at the end. He’d been home from the hospital for a few days, mostly recovered from a collapsed lung. Mia cooked his portion of pancakes, set them on the table, then made some for herself.

  Janet had initially been upset, but Nate’s call and explanation that Robin had been abducted with intent to kill and Mia had saved her life changed anger to overwhelming concern. Not that the woman had doubted the word of a sheriff, but when she visited Mia in the hospital and saw the bruises on her—and Robin—she had a mild freak out. Jerry Golden, the exhibits manager, had wound up dealing with the fire department. No one could explain what set the system off, but they’d gotten lucky. The computer reported a fire with sprinkler activation, but there hadn’t been a fire or sprinklers going off, only a glitch in the electronics.

  Robin had more or less set aside the kidnapping, returning to her happy and normal self after only a few days… or at least normal for her. She remained quite clingy, perhaps more so. Mia didn’t mind. As soon as Adam felt up to it, they planned on giving her a sibling.

  Wilhelmina arrived about an hour after breakfast
to help Mia around the house and spend time with them. She’d taken on a bit of a grandmotherly role for Robin and almost a maternal one to Mia. They did some light housecleaning while Robin played with her stuffed animals and Adam worked on his laptop from a recliner in the living room, catching up with his classes’ progress via the substitute who had been covering for him. Something around thirty students had stopped by to wish him well in the weeks after his injury.

  Nate showed up a little past noon while everyone sat around the table with sandwiches for lunch. Mia invited him in and offered him a sandwich, though he declined food.

  “Mr. Gartner. Hope you’re feeling better.” Nate shook hands, then nodded at Wilhelmina. “Miss Marx.”

  “Still sore, but I’m not having any problem breathing anymore.” Adam rubbed his side.

  Nate nodded. “I’m just stopping by to pass on some updates. Weston’s lawyer got the judge to accept an insanity plea that will put him in a secure mental care facility. Considering he faced three counts of attempted murder in the first degree, he’s unlikely to see the outside world again.”

  “Wow, he went for an insanity defense?” asked Adam.

  “Not exactly.” Nate chuckled. “Weston came unglued in front of the judge when his lawyer announced they would accept the plea and commitment. While trying to explain to the court that he wasn’t insane, Weston insisted that the Devil lived in Spring Falls, the spirit of a dead man had possessed him, and Satan had brought a little girl back from the dead and she planned to kill everyone in the town.”

  Adam whistled. “Great way to try and convince a judge of being sane.”

  “Hah.” Mia laughed. “That’s ironic. A pastor trying to tell people that someone came back from the dead and no one believes him.”

  Everyone but Robin laughed. She scrunched her eyebrows in confusion.

  “Anyway, I have a few things to take care of. Just thought you’d like to know you folks won’t need to show up to testify… or worry about that man again.”

 

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