The Traiteur's Ring

by Jeffrey Wilson

And, he had never been back after that, not even in his mind until just a few weeks ago he realized. He had never even wondered.

  “You saved me that night, didn’t you?” he asked and looked at her wrinkled and beautiful face with the grey, but sparkling, eyes.

  “Oh, my, shit no, chile,” she said and squeezed his hand and laughed. “Done saved yo’ self dat night. Saved yo’ self and one whole lot more. Same as always I expect. Proud dat night, too.”

  For a moment he saw it – through his own little boy eyes – the demon-like yellow orbs of the creature and his Gammy screaming for him to find something he was supposed to have inside. Then, the heat in his little chest had grown, and the glow around his small hands had pulsated. The fire shot from his little body, and then he listened to the shrieks from the creatures as the fire consumed them – and his Gammy, too, he supposed.

  And, he had left his home in the woods and never looked back.

  “Done been dat man since yo been a boy, huh, chile?”

  She patted his hand again.

  “So,” he said and looked out from their porch on the woods he now remembered he loved. “Now what? We just sit here on our porch forever? Is this supposed to be Heaven?”

  His Gammy laughed a big belly laugh.

  “Might jess sit a bit my own self,” she said. “But you gots stuff to be doin’ I think, now. No time to be jess sittin’.”

  “Might just sit a minute,” he said, and leaned back and sipped his lemonade. “Just a minute.”

  “Okay,” she said. “But jess a minute, chile. Gots no more time den dat.”

  Chapter 48

  The light blinded Reed as they burst out of the tunnel behind the waterfall, and he squinted, unable to raise an arm to block the intruding sun. Both his hands were busy pushing down rhythmically on Ben’s chest just as he had been taught.

  I think Ben actually recertified me in CPR.

  The irony didn’t seem particularly important right now. The Air Force PJ’s, the special ops medics extraordinaire, had slipped a tube down his best friend’s throat and periodically squeezed the green plastic bag they had attached to it.

  “Helo is on the ground,” Auger hollered at them. “This way, this way,” he shouted and dashed off to the left.

  The SEALs and two Air Force medics struggled to keep the stretcher level as they started down the rough terrain leading off the ruins, and Reed struggled to keep up the chest compressions without losing his footing and falling to the ground. The hole he thought he had seen in the back of Ben’s head –

  I did see it – it was there, and then Ben – wherever he is, or was – somehow healed it. He’s trying to make it back.

  – had mysteriously disappeared. But the round hole in his forehead remained, and blood soaked his body below his waist. His right leg flopped around like it wasn’t even attached to his body, and his left leg had turned around nearly completely backwards.

  Come on, Ben – please don’t do this. Please don’t leave us. Christy needs you – and I need you.

  “Come on – let’s go, let’s go,” Chris hollered out from the head of the stretcher as they approached the helicopter whose rotor still spun overhead, ready to take off as soon as the patient was secure. Chris looked completely unharmed except his pants were soaked with blood from the waist down. He walked without so much as a limp.

  They slid the stretcher into the helicopter, and Reed started to climb up after him. One of the medics inside put a hand on his chest.

  “We got him from here,” he said gently.

  “I need to go with him,” Reed said in a trembling voice and felt tears spill onto his face. “Please. He’s my only real family in the world.”

  Chris took him by the shoulders and pulled him gently back from the doorway.

  “They’ll take good care of him, bro,” he said softly.

  Reed watched as one of the medics took up the chest compressions he had been responsible for. On an impulse, he reached inside and took Ben’s right hand a moment and squeezed. Then, he slipped the dull, bone-colored ring off of his finger.

  “Gunshot wound to the head,” one of the PJs from the tunnel said.

  “Oh, Jesus,” the medic inside responded, and then pushed the microphone from his flight helmet to his lips and started to talk to someone far away.

  “He’s gonna be fine,” Reed screamed up at them as the helicopter spun and began to hover just above the ground. “He’s my family, Goddammit, and he is going to be okay. You hear me?”

  The medic in the helicopter gave him a halfhearted thumbs-up as the helicopter lifted off, and Chris held him by the shoulders as he began to sob. Reed wiped the tears from his face and looked down at the ring. It lay in his hand, a pale grayish white ring of unpolished stone. He slipped his dog tags over his head and slipped the chain through the center of the ring and let it slide down on top of his tags. Then, he slipped them back over his head. He turned to Chris.

  “He’s going to be fine.”

  “Okay,” Chris said, but Reed knew he didn’t believe it. They watched the helicopter fade to a speck in the distance, and then Reed grabbed his rifle and headed back to the team of SEALs and the small group of flex-cuffed bad guys who knelt in a circle at their feet.

  “He’s going to be fine,” he mumbled again to himself.

  Chapter 49

  Christy sat in the large wicker chair on their deck and looked out at the Chesapeake Bay as she stroked the hair of the baby in her lap who fought valiantly against sleep. It had started to turn cold again after a short early summer weekend, but the beach was still busy with the hard-core beach bums who wore sweatshirts over their shorts. A group of them tossed a Frisbee back and forth and laughed and drank beer from red plastic cups. She missed that, she realized.

  You’ll have it again. And anyway, look what you do have.

  She hugged little Jason to her chest and pulled the soft blanket around him. For a moment he looked up at her with his grey and stormy eyes. Then, he sucked harder on his Binky and gave up, his eyes closing as he snuggled against his Mommy’s warmth.

  Totally worth it. Besides, life is getting more and more normal every day.

  She had everything she needed in the world right here in this house. She wondered if she would ever know the truth of what happened to her husband in Africa. He sure as hell wasn’t talking now was he?

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the bang of the front door and heavy footsteps in the house. Then, she heard the screen door creak open.

  “Hey, Reed,” she loud-whispered over her shoulder.

  “Hey, sis,” he said back softly and kissed her on the back of the head before settling into the chair beside her, two beers now evident in his hands. He twisted the top off one and set it on the rail in front of her and then opened the other and took a long swig. “How’s everything in the Morvant household?”

  She smiled a genuine smile. “Better all the time,” she said and reached for the beer slowly, careful not to jostle her now sleeping son. “You look great,” she added.

  “Only member of Viper Team to escape without a scratch – well, me and Lash, but he’s not really a mortal as you know.”

  She held the bottle up, and Reed clicked his bottle against hers.

  “To Ben,” he said.

  She smiled agreement. “To Ben,” she said and took a long swig.

  She watched as Reed stared out over the beach to the bay and sighed. She noticed the pale, bone-colored ring still hung from his dog tags, but wasn’t surprised. It had been over a year, after all. Why would he suddenly take the ring off now? Maybe he needed it – needed the reminder for some reason.

  “Boy, do we miss him over at the team,” he said absently.

  “I know,” she said. “He misses you guys, too.”

  “Sometimes it feels like he’s still – I don’t know – sort of looking over us, I guess.” He took another long swig of his beer.

  “Maybe he’ll be back soon,” Christy lay her head for
a moment against Reed’s shoulder.

  “That’s up to the Navy,” Ben’s voice said from the door behind them. “I’m ready.”

  Christy turned and her face felt warm with the love she had for her husband. She watched as he maneuvered painfully through the doorway and onto the deck, his hands gripped tightly on the handles of the two canes. He did seem to walk with so much more strength, but she hated the grimace of pain in his face as he limped towards them.

  “Where the hell’s my beer, dickweed?” he asked Reed.

  “Hey, dude, you’re interrupting a date here,” Reed answered. He got up and hugged his best friend gently, then clapped him on the shoulder to remove any testosterone inhibition the hug might cause. The man-ritual always made Christy laugh, and she smiled broadly but kept the chuckle in. “I’ll grab you one,” he said and headed towards the house.

  She watched as her husband eased himself painfully into Reed’s chair, but resisted the urge to help him. She wanted to ask if he had taken his pain medicine, but she bit her lip instead – she didn’t need his scowl, and anyway the number of pills in the bottle in their bathroom hadn’t changed any in weeks. So, she had her answer.

  Stupid, pig-headed SEALs.

  She put her hand on his arm and wondered how he had managed to walk at all with his pelvis basically pulverized by bullets.

  “How you doin’?” she asked – not capable of asking nothing.

  “Great,” he smiled and put her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I really am great, baby. I got everything I need right here.”

  “I know you want to make it back, Ben,” she looked down at their sleeping son. “I want you to make it back, too, but if – you know– if you can’t – I mean if you take the medical retirement and just stay home with us – that wouldn’t be so bad, right?”

  Ben smiled at her and his beautiful grey eyes lit up and melted her heart.

  “That wouldn’t be so bad at all,” he promised.

  She watched him stare out at the bay and wondered what had really happened over there. She guessed it didn’t matter – he made it home to them just like he promised, and their family was together. She knew he thought about Jewel and all the other things that had happened if Africa, but she knew also that he seemed truly happy now. And free – he seemed free and really happy for the first time since she had met him. His eyes still held the steel grey, but the storm in them seemed gone.

  Whatever really did happen over there, her husband seemed to have finally been released from the iron grip of some sort of haunting. Maybe it was the past or maybe it was something else, but all that mattered was it seemed to be gone, at least for now. And the ring – that damn ring – at least it was finally off of his finger. She traced the back of his strong, worn hand with hers.

  Jason stirred, and she looked down to see him looking up at her with a big, toothless baby grin. His blue-grey eyes – Ben’s eyes – held some of the storm clouds she remembered from her husband’s. She smiled.

  We’re in for a rough time from this one, I bet.

  “Here ya go, bro,” Reed said and handed a beer to Ben. “Hey, cool – my little nephew is up.” He reached out his hands, and Christy smiled. A few months ago Reed had been afraid to hold Jason, and now he couldn’t seem to get enough.

  “Just remember,” Ben said smiling, “we’re very glad he doesn’t actually have any of your genes in him.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Reed lifted Jason from his mother’s arms and held him up over his face for a moment. “Don’t worry, big guy. Uncle Reed will teach you all the stuff your Daddy doesn’t know.”

  Little Jason cooed and reached out, grabbing Reed’s nose which made them both laugh.

  “Nice grip,” Reed said.

  He pulled the baby to his chest and hugged him.

  Jason reached out for the dog tags that hung from Reed’s neck and grabbed them playfully – no doubt intent on pulling them into his mouth like everything else he got his hands on. As Christy watched, her baby’s chubby little hand grabbed the pale, bone-colored ring.

  A chill went through her as she watched the ring turn suddenly smooth and then change color to a soft bluish-green as Jason held it in his chubby fingers, cooing his happiness. The ring almost pulsed with glowing light, and for a moment she thought she saw tiny, sparkly fireflies glimmer around his little hands, but then they disappeared. She held her husband’s hand, watched the storm clouds rise in her baby boy’s eyes, and shuddered again.

  She shook her head and blamed the cold.

  {DEVIL OF ECHO LAKE}

  Tied for 1st Place in the 2012 JS Horror Writing Contest.

  Billy Moon would have given his life for rock 'n' roll stardom, but the Devil doesn’t come that cheap.

  Goth rock idol Billy Moon has it all: money, fame, and a different girl in every city. But he also has a secret, one that goes all the way back to the night he almost took his own life. The night Trevor Rail, a shadowy record producer with a flair for the dark and esoteric, agreed to make him a star... for a price.

  Now Billy has come to Echo Lake Studios to create the record that will make him a legend. A dark masterpiece like only Trevor Rail can fashion. But the woods of Echo Lake have a dark past, a past that might explain the mysterious happenings in the haunted church that serves as Rail’s main studio. As the pressure mounts on Billy to fulfill Rail's vision, it becomes clear that not everyone will survive the project.

  It's time the Devil of Echo Lake had his due, and someone will have to pay.

  {THE VOID}

  “VERDICT This unique and unnerving read is a sure bet for horror and sf fans.”

  —Rebecca M. Marrall, Western Washington Univ. Libs., Bellingha - Library Journal

  In the deepest reaches of space, on a ship that no longer exists, six travelers stare into the abyss...

  Man has finally mastered the art of space travel and in a few hours passengers can travel light years across the galaxy. But, there's a catch—the traveler must be asleep for the journey, and with sleep come the dreams. Only the sleeper can know what his dream entails, for each is tailored to his own mind, built from his fears, his secrets, his past... and sometimes his future.

  That the dreams occasionally drive men mad is but the price of technological advance. But when a transport on a routine mission comes upon an abandoned ship, missing for more than a decade, six travelers—each with something to hide—discover that perhaps the dreams are more than just figments of their imagination. Indeed, they may be a window to a reality beyond their own where shadow has substance and the darkness is a thing unto itself, truly worthy of fear.

  {JOKERS CLUB}

  “The work is as tidy as the town and as pat as a familiar horror film."

  —Publishers Weekly

  Diagnosed with a brain tumor, Geoffrey returns to his hometown for a reunion of the Jokers Club (his childhood gang) with the hopes of unearthing the imagination he held in his youth.

  Unfortunately Geoffrey’s tumor quickly worsens, bringing on blackouts and hallucinations where he encounters the spectral figure of a court jester who had been his muse as a child. The jester inspires Geoffrey’s work on his manuscript, fueling his writing at a ferocious pace. The dead and the living co-exist in the pages of Geoffrey’s story, in a town where time seems to be frozen in a past that still haunts the present.

  Will the pounding growth in Geoffrey’s head be held at bay long enough for him to discover who is targeting his friends, or will the pages in his unfinished novel rewrite history?

  {DONORS}

  “This is a novel full of visceral, intense moments. It will keep you holding on until the brilliant end.”

  —Richard Godwin, author of Mr. Glamour and Apostle Rising

  An evil force is at work at the Hospital where Nathan is recovering from injuries he received at the hands of his Mom’s abusive ex-boyfriend. Demonic looking men with pale faces and glowing eyes lurk in the shadows. Someone is harvesting skin and organs from living donors against t
heir will.

  In his dreams, Nathan can see these demons in their true form – evil creatures who feed on the fear and hatred they create in their victims. Nathan’s only ally is the Doctor who cares for him. Bound together by their common legacy, they alone seem to share the ability to see the demons for what they truly are.

  Together they must find a way to stop these creatures before they, and their loved ones, become the next victims.

  {INSERT IMAGE CONTRITION}

  In a tiny community on the Mississippi Gulf Coast, Brother Placidus finds little Amanda LeFleur sacrificed below a crucifix, in the attic of The Brothers of the Holy Cross. It is not the first body he’s found there.

  Assigned to the investigation is detective Peter Toche whose last case was that of a murdered child, a child that has been haunting his dreams, forcing him to face his worst fears and the evil that has targeted his town.

  As additional victims are discovered, Tristan St. Germain, a mysterious man who was rescued by a parish priest from the waters near his home, may hold the key to the safety of all mankind.

  Little Amanda was only the beginning…

  {IMAGE CEMETARY CLUB}

  “Faherty’s latest novel provides readers with as much fun in a graveyard as the law will allow.”

  —Hank Schwaeble, Bram Stoker Award-winning author of DAMNABLE and DIABOLICAL.

  Rocky Point is a small town with a violent history - mass graves, illegal medical experiments and brutal murders dating back centuries. Of course, when Cory, Marisol, John and Todd form the Cemetery Club, they know none of this. They’ve found the coolest place to party after school - an old crypt. But then things start to go bad. People get killed and the Cemetery Club knows the cause: malevolent creatures that turn people into zombies. When no one believes them, they descend into the infested tunnels below the town and somehow manage to stop the cannibalistic deaths.