Absence of Faith

by Anthony S. Policastro

  "Did you have trouble finding a photo?" Vandergarde asked.

  "No," Carson handed him the framed photo.

  "Do you mind if I take it out of the frame?"

  "Go ahead. I also found this on the floor," Carson reached into his pocket and handed the pendant to Vandergarde. "It's a peace symbol, and I know it doesn't belong to Linda. She would never wear anything like that."

  "It's no peace symbol," Vandergarde explained. "In the sixties it might have been, but now it's used by Satanists. Nick had a copy of it in his file."

  The detective reached into his blazer again and produced a tiny notebook. He began flipping the pages.

  "Here, it is. It's called the Cross of Nero and it symbolizes the defeat of Christianity. See how the cross arms point downward. It represents a broken cross."

  Husk - Chapter 43

  Chantress sat in her room looking out her window a frown growing on her forehead. She had just watched the 11 o'clock news and saw Kyle raid Holy Mary's Roman Catholic Church dressed in his satanic robes.

  "It's getting out of hand," she whispered to herself.

  She got in her car and headed for The Ink Well, the small cafe in the West End section of Long Branch, where most of her friends congregated, and where she could hear the latest news on the underground groups in the area. When she pulled into the tiny dirt parking lot she could hear guitar music faintly drifting out of the cafe. The Ink Well was a tired Victorian house that had its last paint job in the 1960s and later converted into a cafe. The owners left the original decor and set up a small stage in the large living room, put in track lighting and filled the rest with small round tables. It even had a large brick fireplace that added to the intimate atmosphere on cold nights.

  Chantress entered and scanned the small room looking for her friends. A man with stringy gray hair touching his shoulders sat on a stool in the middle of the stage and sang an Irish tune while playing a guitar. It was Irish night and the parade of featured artists would sing Celtic, Welsh, and Irish music.

  "My bonnie and I climbed the hill together,

  And many a times we sat there looking at one another,

  But now she is gone,

  Taken by the love of another man."

  Chantress was about to leave when she spotted Yanni sitting at a table in the corner of the room with two men.

  "Yanni! Yanni!" she said.

  "Chantress! What are you doing here?"

  "I got bored and decided to come out," she replied.

  "This is Chuck and Roger. We're doing a little celebrating," Yanni explained.

  Both men wore black jeans and white t-shirts.

  "They just got engaged. Isn't that wonderful?"

  "Great. Yanni, can I talk to you alone for a minute?" Chantress said. "Would you excuse us?"

  The men nodded and Yanni followed Chantress into the bathroom. Chantress checked under the stalls.

  "What's going on?" Yanni asked.

  "Have you heard about Kyle? He was on the news, dressed as Hermes," Chantress said in a whisper.

  "What do you mean?"

  "He raided a church and convinced members to follow him! And the TV stations picked up on it!"

  "You're kidding?" Yanni said.

  "It was all over the news," Chantress explained. "Haven’t your heard anything?"

  "There's been some rumors, but nothing really out of the ordinary," Yanni said.

  "What kind of rumors?"

  "You know the usual stuff. I heard about a group doing animal sacrifices, and..."

  "Do you know which group?" Chantress demanded.

  "No. I just heard about it."

  "Who would know?"

  Yanni frowned then looked around the tiny bathroom.

  "I don't know, there is this guy Husk I know," she said.

  "What about him?"

  "I don't know. He's a weird dude. He comes here every night about one, and stays till closing," she said. "He must live nearby or something."

  "Think he'll come tonight?"

  "I don't know. What's with you? You're really paranoid. What did you take?"

  "Nothing, I'm just upset over Kyle. He still pisses me off," Chantress said.

  She let out a deep breath struggling to hide her emotions.

  "Forget that low life. He's lower than dirt."

  "I know. That's what bothers me. I think he’s going to do something really bad."

  The hinges on the door squeaked and a woman with brown hair down to the middle of her back walked in and chose one of the stalls. The two women left and went back to the table with Chuck and Roger. A waiter approached and Chantress ordered a glass of white wine. She kept her eye on the door, and whenever someone entered, she would turn to Yanni and ask if it was Husk. Yanni would roll her eyes and say no.

  "Are you waiting for someone?" Roger asked. "You keep looking at the door."

  "Sort of," Chantress replied.

  Roger took another sip from his drink and turned to watch the man with the guitar.

  Bonnie Best Morgan was a young maiden,

  She was lovely, young, and free,

  Bonnie Best Morgan she stole my heart,

  When I think about her tears do softly fall,

  Bonnie Best Morgan was too wild for me.

  At ten after one Chantress turned to Yanni.

  "You think he'll show?"

  "I have no idea. I'm not his personal secretary," Yanni replied raising a green bottle of beer to her mouth.

  "Well...excuuuuuus me," Chantress said jokingly. The two women laughed. The men looked at each other oblivious to what was going on between them.

  Minutes later there was a muffled roar of a motorcycle outside.

  "Vroom! Vroom! Vroom!"

  The sound rose above the soft guitar music and Yanni looked at Chantress.

  "I think that's him," she said smiling. "He always likes people to know he arrives."

  The engine revved several more times before it fell silent. Seconds later, a figure stood in the doorway. His head towered only a few inches from the doorframe and his body filled in most of the width of the door. He wore black jeans, black boots, and a black leather jacket. A large silver belt buckle six inches long and four inches deep covered his middle like an ancient shield. The buckle had turquoise stones embedded with ornate flourishes surrounding the stones. He was decorated with various turquoise and silver rings, and pendants. He was big boned with a narrow dark face and dark, piercing eyes that scanned the room with an icy presence. His hair was as black as the night and was pulled back into a short ponytail.

  "Is that him?" Chantress asked.

  "That's him."

  He walked around the room like peacock displaying his feathers and then chose a table near them. He rested his hands and arms on the table taking up most of the space.

  "Do you know him, Yanni?" Chantress asked.

  "Sort of, I used to know one of his friends."

  "He has friends?"

  Yanni got up and walked over to the giant's table. She leaned over putting her face close to his so she knew he would hear her. He looked up at her with a bothered look on his face and then he looked over at Chantress. His cold, black eyes pierced hers and drove a cold darkness into her heart. She shivered slightly. Yanni returned.

  "He said he'll talk, but you'll owe him," Yanni said. "It's like his way."

  "What the hell does that mean?"

  "If he asks you out, you should go," Yanni said.

  "I'm not going out with him!" Chantress protested. "I'm not even attracted to him!"

  "Then he won't talk to you," Yanni said. "Listen, I went out with him once. He's not that bad...a little beer, a little sex, and it's over. He won't call you again."

  "How do I know he knows anything?"

  "He knows everything. I don't know how he knows but he knows everything. One thing about him, he's straight. He honors his word. He's very proud."

  "I don't know. I just can't go out with someone and have sex and that's it,
" Chantress said.

  Yanni raised her eyebrows. Their eyes met and Yanni went back to Husk's table. She spoke with him a few minutes and returned.

  "It's taken care of. He'll talk to you now," Yanni said.

  "But I'm not going out with him!" Chantress said.

  "You don't have to, I am," Yanni said.

  "You? Yanni, you don't have to do this for me, really."

  "What are friends for? Besides I don't mind and you do," she said. "It's been a long time, and I've forgotten what it's like."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes, now go talk to him," Yanni said and motioned her friend to get up.

  Chantress moved slowly towards Husk's table. Husk stared at her the entire time she approached. She shivered again.

  "Hello," he said. "Sit."

  He pulled out a chair.

  "Hi."

  "What do you want to know? The moon is high in the sky and it is a time for revealing much," he said. "Our spiritual forefathers are angry and need to be pleased."

  "What are you talking about?" Chantress said turning her fear into anger.

  "Listen. I am Oglala, and my people were here first," he said. "My full name is Husk, the Revealer."

  His gaze softened and Chantress sensed a warmth flow from his eyes.

  "We listen to the earth and her cries. We listen to life and live our lives accordingly. The white man has stripped us of much, but we still have our beliefs and our souls. He cannot take them from us. What I see is the evil of all evils taking hold. He is destroying the greatest gift we have received from the earth - life itself. The cults have an edge now. They are getting many new believers and with that comes power, a power that is being used for evil, great evil. They are using other's life forces as sacrifices to their evil ruler. They are taking life and doing with it what they please. No one is safe from them. The evil has grown very strong and it may be hard to stop," Husk explained. "Hermes is the dangerous one."

  Chantress looked at him doubtful.

  "How do I know this is true?"

  ""I know this because I used to be one of them. I joined because I needed something more. I was lost between two cultures - yours and mine. After I joined, I realized that they were the lost ones and not me. The cult made me realize that my own heritage and history is what’s really important, and that I should embrace it, and be proud of my forefathers," he explained. "They made me realize who I am."

  Chantress let out a deep sign and looked deeply into his eyes.

  "Are you still a member?" Chantress asked.

  Husk looked around and then gently and slowly pushed her hair away from her ear and placed his lips close. His warm breath against her ear made her tingle with excitement. When he was done, he placed his hand over hers. It covered her hand completely. Chantress saw the sincerity in his eyes. She saw the strength and confidence he held; she saw the goodness of his soul. She took his large hand into hers. Her white, clear hand contrasted against his tanned, leathery red skin.

  "Thank you," she said and squeezed his hand. He nodded and sipped his beer. The two men were gone when she returned to Yanni's table.

  "You look like you’ve seen a ghost," Yanni said. "What did he tell you?"

  "Husk is telling the truth. He's weird all right, but there is something about him. When he spoke I heard ancient words. Words from the past, words laced with wisdom. I'd say he is probably the more advanced species on this planet, in touch with the earth and the spiritual part of life. He's the harbinger of our future."

  "Now you sound like him. What did he do, hypnotize you?"

  "No, he didn't hypnotize me, stupid! One of the cults is taking people and using them as human sacrifices and I think its Kyle. The son of a bitch has gone too far!"

  Yanni stared at Chantress, her eyes wide.

  "No, that can't be happening," she said. "No."

  "It is, Yanni."

  "Why?"

  "Because a human sacrifice serves two purposes to a Satanist; to release the Magus' wrath or anger and to get rid of people they don't like," Chantress explained. "They also believe that it is a way to summon the ultimate power of Satan. They have become an outlaw cult."

  "Disgusting. What about the bodies?" Yanni asked.

  "They have ways. They burn the body parts and get rid of the ashes or they find an open grave in a cemetery, dig two or three feet down and put the body in. Then the cemetery has the funeral and places the real coffin over the body they put there. No one ever knows. There could lots of bodies buried under coffins. How do you find them? Dig up every grave?"

  "Gee. How awful," Yanni said. "How could you be in with them?"

  "I wasn't. What I'm talking about is the outlaw cults. My group didn't do any of those things. Besides, I quit," Chantress said. "I have my own group now, and it's not Satanism."

  "What should we do?" Yanni asked.

  "I don't know. Maybe call the cops. Tell them what's happening," Chantress said.

  A frown formed on Yanni's face and Chantress noticed. Then Chantress looked at Husk. He sat contentedly and watched the guitar player strum another ballad.

  "This is really scary," Yanni said.

  "We're going there," Chantress said.

  "Going where?"

  "To the place of the sacrifices," Chantress said. "We have to warn someone first."

  The Visit - Chapter 44

  "It should be one of these houses," Chantress told Yanni. "Have you seen any numbers yet?"

  "I'm looking...I'm looking! I still think this is a stupid idea. We could be on the beach instead of looking for some doctor's house. How do you know he'll talk to you?"

  "Quit complaining. He'll talk to us. Did you see the news? His wife is missing, and I think I know where she is. He'll listen," Chantress said.

  She slowed the car down and looked at the numbers on the houses.

  "I'm not so sure. He may just slam the door in your face thinking you're some kind of nut case."

  "Just keep looking and have faith. Is that it?"

  Chantress pointed to a freshly painted Victorian house.

  "I don't know. Could be," Yanni said.

  "What was the number of the last house on that side of the street?" Chantress asked staring at the large, old house.

  "Fifty two."

  "Then that has to be it!" Chantress said.

  She pulled the car next to the curb and parked.

  "Well, are you coming?" Chantress asked.

  "No way! This was your idea. You go. I'll stay here."

  "Chicken."

  Chantress walked up to the porch, and rang the doorbell. After a minute, she rang it again and turned to look at Yanni.

  "Maybe he's at work," Yanni yelled.

  "I called the hospital. He wasn’t there," Chantress said.

  She turned and rang the bell a third time. A few minutes passed. Chantress turned and watched Yanni get out of the car and walk down the hill towards the beach. She watched Yanni climb the narrow weather-beaten stairs to the top of the sea wall and vanish over the wall. She rang the bell again. Its muffled chimes squeezed through the thick wooden door. She waited a few more moments, and then left to find Yanni on the beach. Yanni had already kicked off her sandals and waded into the cold ocean. Chantress approached as close as she could without the ocean rolling up and soaking her shoes. Yanni turned around.