“Go! I’ll find you!” Nathaniel screams.
We flee away from the rocks and down a shallow slope through the forest. If we can keep up this pace we’ll be to my car in almost no time. Corrine runs next to me, but she’s clearly in pain. She grimaces and her arms are wrapped around her stomach.
“Are you okay?” I ask, between desperate breaths.
“No, but don’t stop. He’ll find me if we stop. He’ll find me anyway,” she gasps.
“No, he won’t. My car isn’t far,” I say, trying to reassure her.
“You don’t know him,” Corrine huffs.
I didn’t want to give her words any more power by dwelling on them so I point down the mountain and say, “Can you make it?”
“Yeah. But Travis will be there. Don’t tell me where we’re going,” Corrine says as tears fill her soft blue eyes.
This girl must be brainwashed. Why else would she think Travis will know where we’re going? And Nathaniel will stall him. There’s no way he can find us easily. I look over my shoulder, watching for pursuit, but don’t see them. God, let him be okay. He is an angel after all. He couldn’t get hurt. Could he?
We run, stumbling over rocks and kicking up pine needles the entire way down. Corrine seems a little stronger now and is moving almost as fast as I am. When we reach the stream we run straight through, splashing water up to our shoulders.
“My car,” I pant, as my blue Saab comes into view. I’m beyond grateful my camping gear is already loaded as Corrine runs to the passenger side as I circle around the trunk with my keys ready. My heart gives a lurch as I see a flash of movement. Could Corrine’s prediction about Travis finding us at my car be true? No. It’s Nathaniel.
He’s holds his side and wears an unreadable expression.
“What’s wrong?” I ask immediately.
“Not now,” he says and gestures to the car. “We’re getting out of here.”
I yank the door open and Corrine and I climb inside. I look for Nathaniel, making sure he’s getting in with us, but he’s gone. Checking my rearview mirror, my heart flip-flops from surprise and I jump in my seat. My head hits the roof. “Ow!”
Nathaniel’s in the back seat.
“Sorry,” he says.
“That’s all right. I’m gonna have to get used to it sometime.”
“Get used to what?” Corrine asks through a mask of pain. Her arms are wrapped around her stomach and she is nearly bent in half on the passenger seat.
I look over my shoulder and Nathaniel shakes his head in dismissal. Corrine can’t see him in the car with us. This might get complicated very quickly. “Never mind,” I say, but Corrine is in too much pain to pay much attention.
As soon as the engine starts I throw it into reverse and whip the car around. We race down the dirt drive bumping along over wash boards and potholes that should rattle the teeth out of my head, but miraculously don’t. Corrine whimpers only twice, but I can see her clenching her jaw and the stiffness of her back. She’s hanging in there, but she looks wretched.
When I stop the car to open the gate to leave my grandma’s property, I take a second to ask, “Are we headed to the hospital?”
“Nooo, just get me away.”
“Are you sick?” I ask.
“No. No doctors. We need to keep moving. He’s coming. I know it.” She lets out an agonizing moan into her lap.
“Do you know what’s wrong with her?” I ask Nathaniel.
“I think the emergency room is a good idea, whether she wants it or not.”
He isn’t looking much better than Corrine. He’s still holding his side and his face is grim. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I said. Please, keep us moving.” Corrine answers me instead of Nathaniel.
Out of the car and back in, back out, and back in again, to open the gate, pull through and close it again. It felt like ten minutes had passed to move twenty feet instead of the one minute it really took. I give Nathaniel the stink eye and will him to answer me, but he won’t.
“Corrine, who’s that man and what was he doing to you?” I ask, as we start down the dirt road toward the highway. Maybe the police station would be a better destination.
“He’s my stepfather.”
“Why did he kill the fawn?” Remembering the blood makes my stomach clench into a hard little peach pit at the bottom of my ribs.
“It was an offering. Ohhh,” she moans and then says through clenched teeth, “He’s a warlock. Don’t talk about him. It gives him power.”
I slow for a curve in the road and then slam on the brakes. My car slides on the dirt sending up a spray of gravel and dust. Corrine’s hand slams into the dash bracing herself in time to keep from sliding off the seat.
An old silver BMW sedan is parked sideways across the narrow road.
I recognize Travis in the driver’s seat as Corrine says, “He won’t let me go. You can’t out run him.”
“How did he beat us?” I say in total disbelief.
“He’s a warlock,” Corrine answers, as if that should explain how her stepdad seemingly manipulated time and space.
With a surge of rebellion I add, “I sure as hell can try.”
Nathaniel nods encouragingly and I yank the wheel around and try for another direction. Travis is blocking the most direct way to the highway, but I’m not going to hand over Corrine without trying something else.
I nail the gas pedal and take the first left watching in my rearview mirror for the silver car. It’s not there so I press the pedal harder. I pray my memory isn’t failing me as the road curves around trees and passes a couple of large expensive homes. As a cul-de-sac comes into view I yell, “Frickin’ hell. I took the wrong road!”
“Can you walk?” I ask everyone in the car.
“Of course,” Nathaniel says.
“I think so,” Corrine whines, her pain obvious.
I park the car close to the ditch, turn off the key, and open the door all at the same time. “Let’s go.”
There’s no houses at the end of the road so we dash back under the cover of the trees. Then we hear Travis’s car coming. I jog toward the highway and continue praying that we can lose him again.
“Nathaniel, are we being crazy?”
“The highway’s close. We’ll hitch back to town. No, you’re not crazy. We need to stay away from him.”
“Who’s Nathaniel?” Corrine pants.
I look over at Nathaniel, but he’s not looking at me. He’s looking back. A car door slams. Travis is coming. We pick up our pace letting the trees zoom by us.
“Jules, I can’t stall him again. He did something to me. I’m—”
Nathaniel doesn’t finish. His eyes search mine and his expression causes a fear so real as to be almost crippling. I stumble into a tree and grip the trunk feeling it’s solidity against my sweaty palms. I regain my feet and force myself to move faster. A warlock? Did something to an angel? What’s going on? What kind of evil is following us?
“There.” I point ahead at the sunlight breaking through the pines showing us where the highway is. I glance over at Corrine. The agony on her face is worse than ever, but she keeps running.
We dash out of the trees and onto the pavement. The rumble of approaching vehicles echoes down the otherwise empty road. Corrine waves her arms as a couple of motorcycles round a corner. They begin to slow. More bikes follow, five in all.
The enormous stature and bushy black beard of Butch is unmistakable on his black and orange Harley. Corrine runs up to him as I begin to call her back. The tall thin one with blonde hair sticking out from under a bandana, Eli, I think his name is, pulls up close to me. They all stop.
“Corrine!” I scream. I doubt she can hear me over the hellacious noise from five motorcycles.
I see Butch nod his head at her and then he yells something over to Eli.
“Nathaniel, I can’t do this.”
“Jules, I don’t think we have a choice. I won’t let anything happen. Do you trus
t me?”
“I don’t know. I mean, yes, of course, but please not these killers.”
“Corrine, come back. We’ll find another ride,” I yell.
She gives me a confused look and then hops onto a tiny seat behind Butch. Eli is closest to where I huddle by Nathaniel.
He urges me forward. “Go, Jules. I don’t think they’ll harm you.”
“But he has a gun,” I protest.
“Travis does too,” Nathaniel says and I hear the edge of panic in his voice.
“What?” I stare at his face and the fear in his eyes makes me swallow hard. Then I see Travis moving out of the trees, gun in hand.
“Juliana, now!”
Nathaniel is paler than before and for a split second I think I’m seeing through him. “Not him,” I plead. Fear finally gets a grip on me and threatens to explode in an ugly emotional flood.
“Corrine. Get over here,” Travis yells.
She starts to climb off the bike.
“No! Butch, go!” I scream.
Butch takes a quick look at me, then over at Travis approaching with his gun. Then he peels out, his motorcycle moving faster than it should with three hundred and fifty pounds sitting on top of it.
Two of the bikers shift into gear and zoom down the highway. The grumbling roar rattles my insides. I take a quick survey of my last two options. I can’t get on behind this Eli. It would be like handing myself over to Travis. In my head, they’re both deer murderers. In a panic I start to move toward the last guy, but then stop as I see something completely unexpected. The deer carcass is strapped to the top of a tiny trailer on the side of his bike.
“Get on or walk, but that fellar’ over there don’t look like he’s playin’ around,” Eli yells over the thunderous rumble of the bike’s exhaust.
“Now, Juliana. I’ll be close.” Nathaniel reaches over and pushes me toward Eli even though he isn’t in his physical body.
Bang! I jump out of my skin as Travis shoots. Bark explodes on a tree not far from us.
I throw my leg over the motorcycle seat behind Eli The Murderer. The wheels begin spinning before my foot lifts off the ground.
Bang! Another shot fires. I check to see if anyone is shot. Everyone I can see is unharmed. Travis looks like a black demon with two laser-red pupils. I blink, not believing my own eyes, and check again. He’s just a short man with dark hair, wearing blue jeans and a shirt. The black demon I saw is there around him, and not there. I don’t understand it, but I swear he is the devil himself, incognito.
Nathaniel perches on the sidecar with the deer carcass almost comically, but there really is nothing funny about any of this. I turn my head staring at the back of Eli’s leather vest and pray to every god I’ve ever heard of to let this end.
Chapter Six: Personality Disorders
Juliana
Hell on earth. That’s where I’ve landed. Ear shattering, mind-numbing roaring has entered my skull, passed down my spinal column, and split me into two. I’m freezing wet from the creek water and being blasted in all directions by an unbelievable wind while hanging on for dear life. My rear end is planted to a leather seat, but I can’t feel it because my butt is totally numb from vibration.
How many levels of Hell are there? There must be a lot because my current situation couldn’t be described as anything else, and I would have sworn that running from an angry warlock was yet again another form of diabolical torture. The only thing which is even remotely comforting — I mean the most minuscule crumb of hope — is when I dare to open my eyes, I’m staring at a collection of crosses. Patches sewn onto the leather in various sizes and designs. I’m not religious and I’ve never been. Not that I have anything against it, but my parents raised me without organized religion, and I’ve never felt any need for it. That being said, somehow seeing this odd collection of crosses as the world blurs by my peripheral vision is helping.
I peek over the shoulder of my “rescuer” to look for Corrine and Butch up ahead. Huge mistake. Eyelids should never flap in the wind. Squeezing my eyes closed brings back some of the moisture, hopefully enough to be able to see again. Next I run my tongue around the inside of my cheeks to assure myself they’re still attached to my face and by some mercy of heaven they are.
“Where you girls headed?”
Did I imagine the voice? Could it be the devil asking me if I’m residing in his lair of torture, or moving on at my leisure? I squeeze my eyes closed harder and keep the vision of the Celtic cross from the back of Eli’s vest in my mind’s eye. I like that one the best with its pattern of intertwining knots. For some reason it reminds me of my mom.
“I said, where am I taking you?” the voice yells.
Yes, Satan’s minion, that must be it. I’m being escorted on a Harley straight to the blazing inferno of the underworld. Lead me to a place of no return. I’ll miss you Nathaniel — we didn’t get enough time together — but control of my fate has blown away with the wind.
“I know you’re no mute, so tell me where you want let off.”
The bike slows. Like from two hundred to one hundred miles per hour. Attempt number two is imperceptibly more successful as I peek behind us looking for Nathaniel and the others. Through wildly flapping hair I see them close behind. Nathaniel’s face is strained, but he’s not ruffled by the wind. No body to be ruffled, I remind myself. In this particular situation I’m ridiculously envious.
“In town,” I squeak.
“Lady, you need to speak up. In case you haven’t notice my ride is louder than a hurricane.”
“Town. Anywhere!”
The bike rockets forward as he shifts gear and lays into the throttle.
“No! Wait. Next right!” I scream as I realize how close we are to my house.
He must not have heard me over the deafening roar because he speeds up instead of slows down. God! How fast does this machine go? Town will be fine too, I decide, but then I do feel the bike begin to slow. Daring another look, I see Butch and Corrine glide up next to us. Eli makes some hand gesture, which apparently means hit the brakes and turn right, because that’s exactly what happens next.
Moving down the dirt road at a more manageable speed, I get a hold of my hair with one hand and take a few close to regular breaths, now that the wind isn’t blasting through my nasal cavities at supersonic speed.
“Stop at the next intersection, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Behind us, the others, including Nathaniel and the deer carcass, follow just out of range of the worst of the dust clouds. Eli downshifts and pulls to the side of the road at the corner of my street. Before he shifts into neutral I’m already sliding off the seat. This is a slight miscalculation on my part. The numbness of my backside from the outrageous vibration has traveled down my legs and into my heels. I stumble awkwardly — motorcycle legs — who’s heard of such a thing? Before I fall down Eli grabs my elbow and steadies me. My feet find their grip on the earth and I jerk my arm free.
Eli raises both hands in surrender and gives me an innocent, although road rough and scratchy bearded, look from behind hazel eyes. I frown at him and look for Corrine and Nathaniel.
Nathaniel is behind me and a little on my left. Corrine is leaning over and wrapping her little stick arms around the giant, Butch, in an overly friendly hug. Eli cuts his motor and the rumbling ceases its assault on my innards.
“You girls need us to stick around for a while?” Eli asks me.
“No,” I say with mild annoyance.
“That gun shootin’ cowboy back there didn’t seem all too friendly.”
“I know. Thanks for the ride. We’ll be fine.”
“Sure you don’t wanna go to the police?” Eli asks.
He has a slight drawl to some of his words. He’s probably from the south, like so many other summer visitors around here.
“You? You want to take us to the cop shop?” I ask, as I look pointedly over at the dead deer. The only reason I’m not going to turn him into Wildlif
e Enforcement is because he saved us from Travis.
“You’re misunderstandin’ this—”
Eli gets cut off as Corrine steps between us.
“I’m Corrine. I’d really like to thank you. You don’t know what you’ve done for me. You’ve saved my life.”
Listening to Corrine speak blows my mind. She sounds different, all cutesy and innocent. She’s even smiling and looking rather coy. She has her hands across her stomach, but now in an entirely different way than just thirty minutes before. All traces of her pain seems to have disappeared.
“It’s only a ride,” Eli says.
“You don’t understand.” Corrine takes a small step forward and places one of her tiny hands on Eli’s thigh. “I had to get away from him. He’s not right. He’s a powerful S.O.B. I could thank you later, in private,” she says low enough so his fellow bikers don’t hear, but I do.
I watch in utter disbelief as Corrine’s hand inches its way up Eli’s leg toward his groin and her other hand moves to one of her breasts, fondling herself.
“Juliana, help her please,” Nathaniel says.
“Corrine, we have to go. Now.”
She turns an annoyed look on me and says, “I like these guys. You go.”
Nathaniel says, “Something’s way off. Try to get her to come with you, and sooner than later.”
I couldn’t agree more. I just met this girl, but Corrine is acting strange considering she just escaped her psycho stepfather and has dried deer’s blood in her hair.
Eli’s leather gloved hand stops Corrine’s progress toward his crotch. “Corrine, you best go with your friends. I think they’re needing you.”
I take my cue and reach for her upper arm. “Corrine, you should get cleaned up. Your hair, remember?”
“Oh god! I Forgot. Of course you’re not into me. I must look like a dirty troll.” Her hand moves to her crusty hair. The parakeet blue streak was left untainted so she now has blonde, blue, and dark red. It isn’t as pretty as it sounds.
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