by Alexie Aaron
“Beg your pardon, Ma’am,” Ted said. “We were walking the neighborhood and decided to stop in. We were wondering if you have found God?”
Cid was flabbergasted. Now was not the time to play bible thumpers at the door. He watched as the skin fell away from the woman’s face in strips, exposing scales of puke-green underneath.
Mia and Murphy rounded the corner and saw an open door in front of them. Mia grabbed Murphy’s free hand and pulled in hard. The two tumbled through the door.
Cid took a step backwards. Fear and revulsion were fighting for dominance when the woman’s remaining flesh began to pulse and insects crawled out from underneath.
Mia tried to stop their momentum, but she hit the back of Mrs. Blackwell’s knees, causing the creature to buckle and fall back on top of her. Mia morphed into a small field mouse. She used her OOB speed and just managed to run out of the landing path of the voluminous skirts of the skin-walker before she hit the ground.
Ted didn’t know whether to sigh in relief when the woman’s fall exposed the axeman behind her or to run as Murphy came up swinging. Ted pulled on the back of Cid’s collar, screaming, “GET OUT THE FUCKING WINDOW!”
The investigator shook off the shock and did as he was told.
Mrs. Blackwell spun around and faced the farmer. “How dare you trespass in my home? You’re nothing but an axe-carrying dirt farmer. Get out before I feed you to my cats!”
Mia, who was presently a field mouse, didn’t like the sound of the word cat, and that there was more than one of them, terrified her. She morphed again, this time taking the form of a lion.
Mrs. Blackwell’s face froze as the full mane of the powerful creature moved when the lion shook its head at the skin-walker.
Ted, who could only see the distracted skin-walker and not what she was facing, took direction from Murphy and squeezed through the window. He hit the ground running and didn’t stop until he caught up with the group behind the big brown house.
~
Brentwood’s limo driver slowed and pulled to a stop on the left hand verge to let the emergency vehicles pass him.
“What’s going on?” Brentwood’s voice cracked over the intercom.
“Sorry, sir, there appears to be a bit of a crisis at the entrance to the Cold Creek Hollow compound,” the driver said, slowing the vehicle.
Brentwood looked at the smoldering limo, resembling more of a barricade than an automobile, which was blocking the entrance. Two sheriff’s cars, an ambulance, and a tanker truck from the local fire department filled the remaining road outside the gate.
“Turn around, I have another idea,” Brentwood instructed.
“But, sir, there isn’t enough road to turn around,” the driver argued.
“There is if you want to keep your job,” Brentwood threatened.
The driver backed the limo up instead. The next cross street was a half mile down the road.
Brentwood cursed, bouncing around inside as the limo hit the myriad potholes left over from the spring thaw. “Do you have to hit every one!” he yelled.
Ignoring the passenger, the driver increased his speed, and soon he had made the crossroads. He stopped and turned south, heading for the highway.
“Stop! I want you to go north,” Brentwood ordered.
The driver pulled over, got out and opened the door to the back. “Respectfully, I would like you to get out of my automobile.”
“Why?” Brentwood whined, his eyes shooting bullets at the driver.
“I think what I have to say is better face to face, sir,” the driver said.
Brentwood doubted that Thaddeus’s body was in any shape to resist, so he got out of the vehicle. He stood up next to the driver and said, “Okay, I’m here.”
The driver closed the door.
Brentwood heard the locks engage. The driver stood in front of him and said, “It took me six years to get my citizenship papers and ten years to buy that car. I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you got going on in that place, but I can no longer drive for you, sir.” The driver turned on his heel, ignoring the pleading passenger.
“I’ll behave. Let’s go back to the city. How about I double your fee?”
The man shook his head, got into the limo, started it and drove off, leaving Brentwood, in the body of Thaddeus Maynard the Third, in the middle of the intersection. Brentwood pulled out his phone, and there were no bars indicating coverage. He swore and tossed the phone, narrowly missing a black and white rodent that was emerging from a culvert on the side of the road. It missed the creature, but it did startle him. The skunk raised its tail and sprayed in Brentwood’s direction.
“I hate this fucking place!” Brentwood screamed as the odor filled the body’s nasal passages. He hated it so much that he abandoned Thaddeus’s body and headed back to the middle house in spirit form.
Chambers slowed his vehicle, preparing to make the turn into the hollow. There was something lying in the road. No, it was someone. He stopped the vehicle and called in a possible hit and run. He requested an emergency vehicle as he approached the unconscious man. The smell of skunk permeated the area. Chambers held his nose and knelt by the fallen man. “Sir, sir,” he gently prodded the man after feeling a strong pulse in the man’s neck.
“Whadda want?” Thaddeus slurred, waking up.
“I’m sorry, sir, but you can’t sleep off a drunk in the middle of the road,” Chambers counseled.
“Where am I?” Thaddeus asked, his language clearing as he sat up.
“Cold Creek Hollow.”
“How the hell did I get here?”
“That’s what I’m trying to ascertain, sir.”
Thaddeus looked at the young deputy and said, “I think I need my lawyer.”
“That and a bath in tomato juice,” Chambers said nasally. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“I was driving home from a fundraiser in Greenville.”
“What day was that?”
“Wait, the invite is still in my pocket,” Thaddeus pulled out the crumpled piece of paper and handed it to the deputy.
Chambers read the date and looked at the man skeptically. “This is the last thing you remember?”
“Yes.”
“It was four evenings ago.”
“Impossible. What have I been doing since then? Wait, I remember a man in the passenger seat of my Mercedes. He grabbed the wheel and… and… that’s it.”
“You could have a concussion. Let’s get you to the hospital and have them run some tests.”
“I think you’re right, cancel the lawyer and get me to the hospital, young man. There’s a tip in it for you if you avoid the press.”
“Who are you?”
“Why I’m Thaddeus Maynard the Third.”
“Owner of Maynard Industrial?”
“Yes.”
“You better come with me,” Chambers instructed. He guided the dizzy man to the cruiser and winced when the man and the skunk odor hit the back seat. He got in and radioed. “May Bell, can you connect me with the sheriff? It’s important.”
John Ryan felt his personal phone vibrate in his pocket. He picked it up, puzzled by the caller ID. “Ryan here.”
“Sir, I’m sorry to disturb you, but you’re not picking up the radio,” May Bell said with a disapproving tone.
“I’m a bit busy here…”
“Sir,” she interrupted, “Deputy Chambers needs to talk to you immediately. Says it’s important.”
“Well put him through,” Ryan ordered.
“Sheriff, this is Chambers.”
“Go ahead.”
“I have Thaddeus Maynard the Third sitting, smelling of skunk, in the back of my patrol vehicle. I found him lying in the intersection one and a half miles from your present location. He claims memory loss. Last thing he remembers is a hijacker twisting the wheel of his Mercedes following a fundraiser in Greenville.”
Ryan smiled. They had caught a break. “Chambers, get him checked out. Don’t yo
u let him out of your sight. If he goes to x-ray, you go to x-ray. Do you understand me, son?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good, I’ll get there as soon as I can. Good job, son, good job.”
Ryan walked up to Tom who was taking witness statements from the mercenaries. “Excuse me, Deputy, could I have a word?”
Tom followed the sheriff out of the hearing distance of the mercenaries. He looked at the bounce in the man’s step and anticipated good news. “Did they get out?”
“I don’t know, too early to know. What I do know is, Thaddeus Maynard the Third was picked up a mile from here. Doesn’t remember anything past his accident. I think this soul-jumper has left the coop with the door standing open for us foxes.”
“What could make a soul-jumper leave a prize like Thaddeus Maynard?” Tom asked.
“Skunk, the man got sprayed by a skunk.”
“Makes sense to me. That happened to me as a kid, and I sure wanted a way out of my skin fast,” Tom blurted.
“Me too, me too. Now let’s see if we can rattle the guards a bit. Tell them that their boss will soon be terminating their employment.”
“Is he?” Tom questioned.
“He will after I get my hands on him. See if you can get ahold of Gerald Shem and tell him his CEO is back and ripe for the picking.”
“Yes, sir,” Tom said. He would make the call after he flushed the sheriff’s metaphors out of his mind.
Chapter Twenty-three
Mia felt her power drain, the larger the persona she took on. She had to keep the interest of the skin-walker long enough for Ted and crew to get the hostages clear of the hollow. Mia knew that, aside from this display in morphing, she didn’t have the ability to land a blow if the skin-walker was to fight her. Murphy could get in a few blows from his axe, but there was the danger that the skin-walker could permanently end Murphy’s tenure on earth.
“Mother,” Alice May said, coming into the kitchen. She shrieked, seeing Mia, “What the hell is that!”
Mia roared for effect.
“Just an irritation. What’s the problem?”
“Brentwood’s back. He lost his body and is stinking up the front hall.”
Mia morphed into a bird and flew to the open window. Murphy moved through the wall of the building and was waiting for her.
Mia perched there listening.
“He says the body of the rich man was corrupted by a blast from a skunk, and he couldn’t stand it anymore and had to leave,” Alice said loudly.
“Don’t shout at me. Take Brentwood to the basement. I’ll bring the tomato sauce. Body or no body, a skunk’s odor sticks with you.”
Mia flew off the sill and landed on Murphy’s shoulder. Murphy ran to catch up with the fleeing PEEPs.
“You stay with them and watch their backs. I’ve got to get back to my body and spread the news.”
Murphy nodded and smiled when Mia morphed into a peregrine falcon and flew away quickly.
~
“You’re kidding right?” Mike asked amazed. “You want us to feel sorry for a demon?”
“No, what I’m saying is, he’s being used by the skin-walker - you know her as Honor Blackwell,” Audrey explained.
“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Santos said, breathing hard. They had been alternating between running and speed walking for the last few minutes. “I think initially the demon was trying to use Blackwell and Brentwood to escape the prison that the tribe’s sacrifice had put him in. But Blackwell, she’s a smart one, realized that she could draw his power as long as he was trapped in the caves beneath her house. Brentwood, may have been a visitor there at some time, and the soul-jumper hitched a ride west with him. Or he could possibly be the original body? I’m not really sure how that works,” he admitted.
“Well, if Brentwood was hijacked, who is the soul-jumper?” Burt asked.
“I think we can call him Brentwood to alleviate any misunderstanding,” Santos instructed. “Perhaps the soul-jumper has something to do with the demon or maybe one of Mrs. Blackwell’s fallen found a way to escape her by this method. I want to be clear about it. Brentwood, Blackwell and the demon are not innocents. They all are due for a reckoning.”
They had reached the crest of the ridge and could see the farmhouse through the trees below them. To their left was Angelo standing guard over a small tent. He waved them off.
“I think he wishes us to leave the hillside,” Ted said. “I’m in need of a Mia fix. Let’s hope she’s on her way back. I saw Murphy walking through the trees a moment ago. He didn’t seem in too big a rush so they both must have escaped the middle house.”
“Well that’s a relief,” Santos said. He looked over at Cid who was mumbling something to himself. He thought he caught a few words of the Lord’s Prayer so he decided to ask, “Cid, my son, are you alright?”
“She was horrible, her skin falling off her face…”
“He’s a bit shocked that Mrs. Blackwell wasn’t at her best. After all, we didn’t make an appointment. The gal didn’t have time to gussy up,” Ted teased.
“Shut up, Martin,” Cid snapped. “How can you not be grossed out by that thing?”
“I figure Mia’s got to see that kind of stuff every day. I’m not going to be freaked out by a two and a half minute skin strip show,” Ted reasoned.
“If she’s got to see that kind of thing every day then it’s no longer a mystery why she finds you attractive,” Cid said.
Burt and Mike burst out laughing. Santos hid a smile under his hand. Cid felt redeemed, and Ted just shook his head.
“You’re just jealous. All of you, even you, Father.”
The others fell silent.
Audrey, feeling once more like ignored chopped liver, quickened her pace and all but ran down the hillside.
Maggie caught sight of them and ran up the charred path and greeted Audrey.
“Good girl!” Audrey squatted down and let the dog wash her face with kisses. “It’s so good to see you. Are you out by yourself?”
“No,” I’ve got an eye on her,” Father Alessandro said as he huffed up the incline. “Audrey, you’re looking no worse for wear. I bet you’ve got a tale to tell me. Did Santos cause you too much trouble?”
“He was an excellent hostage, Father,” Audrey replied.
“Good, it wouldn’t do to let team Dog Collar down would it?”
“No, you guys still have your reputations of being tough old… er… tough young priests intact.”
“Mustn’t lie, Audrey. I’ll let it pass since you didn’t want to hurt my feelings.”
“Thank you, Father.”
The others caught up with them.
“Your wife’s back, and she’s hungry, young man. She said as soon as she gets her legs back, she was coming to find you,” Alessandro related.
Ted smiled and took off running.
“He doesn’t seem upset about the damage the fire caused,” Santos said, looking at the charred area with sorrow.
“No, as long as Mia is fine, he’ll be fine. Now Mr. Murphy’s a bit upset over his trees though,” Alessandro said. “He’s already pulling away the dead undergrowth.”
“He’s a good tenant of the forest,” Santos said.
“I’m surprised you don’t want to sneak up behind him and send him on,” Alessandro teased.
“No, my days of questioning his staying here are over,” Santos confessed. “God has a good and honest caretaker for the forest.”
“And PEEPs,” Alessandro added.
“And PEEPs,” Santos agreed.
~
Ted burst through the door and felt something whizz past his head.
“Hold on there, Tonia, that’s my husband,” Mia said, trying stamp out the pins and needles from her wooden legs. She reached her arms up, and Ted picked her up and kissed her soundly.
“I shouldn’t reward you for OWL, but damn, it’s so good to see you again.”
“OWL?” questioned Tonia, who resume
d her perch on top of the lead box, tucking away the remaining salt stars into her vest pocket.
“OOBing without leave,” Mia answered. “Ted likes me to let him know before I go, and well, I didn’t think I had time to do so, but a few minutes, in retrospect, wouldn’t have been amiss. I’m sorry, Teddy Bear,” Mia said sweetly.
“Put it on your never-do list,” Ted said.
“I promise never to OOB when Audrey and Father Santos are in danger without telling you first,” Mia said, holding up her fingers in a boy scout gesture.
“Explain OOB again?” Tonia requested.
“It stands for out of body,” Ted said. “OOB is just easier. Shorthand.”
“Okay,” she said.
“What’s Angelo doing on the hillside with the tent?” Ted asked Tonia.
“I expect guarding it while Lorna connects with the Council of Women. She’s going to summon the deer-woman. It’s about time the skin-walker was dealt with. The way I see it, she destroys the skin-walker, I collect the soul-jumper, and we’ll still have time to see the sights before we head back west.”
“That simple?” Mia said in disbelief.
“That simple.”
~
Metal walked over from the cubicle, where his comrade Sniper was awaiting treatment, to where Thaddeus was handcuffed to the bed, waiting for transport upstairs. “Boss, the gates are down.”
The man looked back at him puzzled. “Do I know you?”
“Did you hit your head?”
Thaddeus tried to reach his head, but the cuffs restrained him. “I don’t think so?”
“You hired me and the boys to guard your Cold Creek Hollow property.”
“I have property in Cold Creek Hollow?”
Metal looked at the man, and the realization hit him that either Thaddeus was playing him for a fool or he had some kind of amnesia. All Metal knew was that he didn’t see the other half of his fee coming anytime soon. He walked away from the foul-smelling man, out of the hospital, and called College. “Clear out. Leave no trace we’ve been there. The gig’s busted.”