Mooncusser Cove

by Darragha Foster

  Awe-struck, the deputy holding the keys to the handcuff passed out. The tiny silver key tinkled and clinked against its fob as it hit the dirt. Jerrod dropped to his knees and picked it up with his mouth. He looked around for a boot or fist trying to stop him. All eyes were on the beatific Maria, rising slowly and gracefully from the truck bed.

  Maria smiled softly at the glowing will-o'-the-wisp in her palm. She then cast the gaseous orb toward the mansion.

  Believing it was Divine Inspiration, Sheriff Abidjan whispered to the crowd, “She wants us to burn the mansion. Burn it to the ground. It's a sign from God."

  Vesper choked down bile. The last time the dead walked on her beach was the night they'd wrecked the Sea Shadow. The last time a torch had been put to property, the curse had been released in the smoke. Would the abatement of the curse do likewise?

  A ripple of agreement cascaded through the crowd, until one man stepped forward, his son's baseball bat wrapped in oil-soaked cloth.

  The keys between his lips, Jerrod went to Vesper. “Can you use your mouth to unlock my cuffs?"

  "I think so. Pass me the key,” Vesper replied.

  Jerrod brought his lips to Vesper's. With a true kiss of life, he passed the key to her.

  He turned and squatted so that the lock was at her chin level. She had zero clearance for movement. He had to move the lock to the key. With his arms behind his back it was difficult to maneuver. Vesper made a guttural, throaty sound for hot or cold, until Jerrod had the lock in position. She couldn't move her head at all, but Jerrod managed to slip the lock onto the key without losing his balance.

  And the cuffs snapped open.

  Jerrod withheld a cry of pure joy as he tossed the cuffs into the tall grass. “I'm going to free you,” he said to Vesper.

  "Tell me what they're doing, Jerrod,” she replied.

  "Some of them are watching Maria. Some of them are watching this townie with a torch. I'm not sure what they're waiting for.” He lifted a block off the press and rolled it aside. “Jesus Christ, these are heavy."

  He glanced behind him, assuming the sheriff would try to stop him. The sheriff hadn't taken his eyes off Maria.

  Jerrod rolled a second block away.

  Vesper took a deep breath, forcing the press upward as she filled her aching lungs. “Get it off me, please."

  He kicked off the final stone and struggled to lift the witches’ press off Vesper. “I can't lift this thing. I'm going to push it off you. Brace yourself, Vesper."

  Putting his back into it, Jerrod shoved the plank up and over. It crashed against the ground, splitting in two.

  "Unstrap me. Quickly,” Vesper pleaded. She turned her head. “Jerrod. Oh, my God. Turn around!"

  Jerrod turned to see Sheriff Abidjan lifting Maria out of the truck bed and onto the ground. She hadn't spoken. She'd barely moved, save for the ball of light still dancing in her hand.

  She whispered into Galen's ear. Something he obviously agreed with as he nodded slowly as she spoke. He still had her in his arms. She looked rail-thin. Emaciated, you could almost see through her.

  He set her down very carefully. So gently it didn't even appear that her feet touched soil.

  She walked slowly between the bystanders, who parted for her and moved to one side, flanking her as if she were a queen. The townie with the baseball bat knelt before her, holding his bat aloft.

  Maria touched the will-o'-the-wisp to the oil-soaked cloth, lighting it.

  Brilliant blue flames rose from the top of the bat.

  She held out her right hand, palm up, facing the mansion—as if offering it to the flame.

  Abidjan turned to the torch bearer and nodded.

  As solemnly as if he were a funeral usher, the man crept up to the house.

  Vesper gripped Jerrod's hand. He moved her behind him and slowly backed away. She pulled away and placed her palms flat and tight against her rib cage. The pain was excruciating. Vesper cringed and spit onto the sand. Spit blood. “Jerrod ... I can't let them burn my house."

  Jerrod pushed her behind him again. “A Paladin protects the kin from their own worst enemy. Themselves. Poor choices brought on by too much drink. Too much money. Constant, helpless appetites. Let them have the house, Vesper.” He clutched Vesper's forearm tightly, not relinquishing his grip, though she struggled against him.

  The townies had gathered around Maria, protecting her from unseen foes as flames touched the tip of a curtain fluttering from a window off the back porch. The lacey fabric smoked for a moment then burst into flame.

  "No,” Vesper wept. “No. Not my house.” She pulled away from Jerrod. He leapt forward, tackling her to the ground.

  Atop her, she cried out as her entire back porch became engulfed in flames. “Jin is in there."

  "The second story is going up,” Jerrod replied. He stood and pulled his sweater over his face. “We can't let him burn to death. Jesus, the fire's spreading fast. I'm going in for him."

  Vesper cried out as she pushed herself to her feet. “Like hell you are!” She swung at Jerrod, smacking him square in the jaw. “I'm not going to lose you!"

  Jerrod toppled back, but didn't lose his ground. He felt his right fist clench. He hadn't clenched his fist in self-defense since ... since childhood. When his father had beaten him. “Don't do this, Vesper,” Jerrod said firmly. He licked blood from his lip. “I am going to get Jin."

  Vesper sprang at Jerrod like a cat, clawing and hissing. She encircled his face with her arms and wrapped her legs around his hips, knocking him to the ground. “No! Let one of them try and rescue him.” She took a deep breath and screamed, “Abidjan! Jin is in the house! Help him!"

  Jerrod rolled, using his weight and Vesper's weight against her. He pinned her to the ground a second time. And socked her in the kisser, knocking her out cold. “I'm sorry, Vesper. I can't let a man die. Even a murderer. And they're not going to help Jin. It's up to me."

  Jerrod rose and turned to plan his course of action. The fire had quickly consumed the back end of the house. He heard the leaded-glass window shattering and smelled history going up in flames.

  He ran to the front porch.

  Smoke billowed out the open windows, and he could see the glow of flames racing up the back corridor to the foyer through the thick glass of the front door.

  "No,” a hoarse, soft voice said from behind as he moved his palm millimeters above the door handle to detect if it was safe to touch.

  Jerrod turned. Abidjan stood silent witness to Maria's odd, ghastly heavily made-up image of deathly pink perfection. The sheriff spoke. “The lady said no, son."

  "Jin is in there!” Jerrod replied.

  "She knows that. She wants to take care of him. I'd let her if I were you,” Abidjan replied. “When the dead rise and set their mind on something, best let them have at it."

  Jerrod stepped aside as Maria slowly climbed the steps. She held out her hand to turn the doorknob. Jerrod cringed. “Honey, it's hot. You can't touch that."

  Maria turned her head and smiled softly. “It's hotter where I'm taking Jin.” She opened the door and slipped inside, closing it tightly behind her.

  "Come on. It's over. You take Vesper away from here, and you keep her away, and we'll all forget any of this ever happened.” Abidjan spat and put his hand on his holstered pistol. “Maria there promised us the madness is over. Mooncusser Cove's legends is all that's gonna be left ‘round these parts. You have one hour to clear out. Understood?"

  Jerrod stepped off the porch. “I won't need an hour. We're outta here.” He walked away from the sheriff, who continued to stand as a sentinel as the mansion collapsed. “Moonie!” he called. “Come on, girl!” The frightened pup leapt into Jerrod's arms.

  The fire jumped to Vesper's cottage. Jerrod knew he wouldn't have time to rescue anything from inside. He dashed around back and tossed Moonie into the Woodie. He fumbled for the keys, finding them above the visor. Jerrod pulled the vehicle around front.

  The smoke
had turned from white to gray to blue. It swirled against the bodies of the catatonic onlookers as if it was a stone hitting a static body of water. Except where it coursed by Vesper's unconscious form. There it undulated atop her like a lover would. It became a tide of smoke, shaping itself to her, then moving away quickly before being pulled back in by some unseen force.

  The blue smoke went black. Vesper struggled for air in the choking fog enveloping her. Jerrod left the car running and fought to free her of the smoke's hold. It wanted her. It wanted to drag her into the fire. To consume her.

  A thousand razor points ripped at Jerrod as he lifted Vesper from the smoke. She felt lighter. Perhaps not physically, but in every other way. Lighter.

  He glanced back at the tomb of smoke still covering the ground where she'd landed. An ethereal form remained. A shadow of Vesper. And that shadow disintegrated as the smoke dragged it into the flames.

  He squinted, trying to make out a strange shape on past the smoke and flames, on the bay. Silhouetted in the moonlight. Faded, tattered and reeking of antiquity, was a ship. A tall ship.

  There was no time to consider the vision. He had to get Vesper to safety.

  Jerrod drove away.

  He didn't look back.

  Chapter Twenty

  Vesper awoke fighting. Screaming. Slapping at her arms as if she were on fire.

  Jerrod pulled over to the side of the road. He'd left Mooncusser Cove three hours behind him. He'd lost track of time. “You're all right?"

  She forced herself upright. Every muscle in her body ached. Her ribcage felt hot. She began shivering. “Jin? I need to get Jin..."

  Jerrod shook his head. “It's over, Ves. Maria probably got him out."

  "Maria?” Vesper asked.

  "After she rose up, she stopped me from going into the mansion,” Jerrod replied.

  "Oh, my God. My house!” She pulled the door latch. She groaned as she realized she was too weak to push it open. “Where are we?"

  "Close the door. We're hell and gone from the cove, Vesper—and we're not going back. You wore out your welcome there, and like you should have done years ago, you've moved on."

  "Burned?” she asked.

  Jerrod nodded, putting the car back into drive and accelerating. “To ashes. The cottage, too. Go ahead and cry or have a catharsis. You've earned the right."

  Vesper crumbled back onto the seat. “I'm cold."

  "Shock. And the aftermath of a right hook to the jaw. I'm going through the same thing, actually. I'll be fine, thanks."

  "I'm sorry I punched you, Jerrod. I wasn't going to let you try and rescue Jin. I was afraid I'd lose you."

  "Which is why I punched you."

  "To save me from another of my own poor choices. But by stopping me, I've killed Jin and lost everything."

  Jerrod rounded a corner, bearing west. “Jin didn't die by your hand, Vesper. Maria had unfinished business with him. She put him in his place—wherever that might be."

  The brilliant moon streamed into the cab of the Woodie. Vesper covered her eyes. “It mocks me. I hate moonlight."

  "Well, you look beautiful in it,” Jerrod replied.

  "I'm not feeling too beautiful. In fact—how long was I out?” Vesper asked.

  Jerrod glanced at his wristwatch. “About three hours."

  Vesper ran her fingers across her bruised torso. “I'm not healing, Jerrod. I really hurt.” She coughed and sent her body into a spasm of pain. “I've got broken ribs."

  "There's a town coming up.” He paused, squinting at a grouping of signs along the county road. “There's a hospital,” he commented after observing the big white H on a blue background. “Want me to drive you to a hospital?"

  "No hospitals. The nurse will check me out, and I'll be healed before the doctor comes in and have to bail out a window or something."

  "You said you aren't healing, Ves."

  Vesper held her ribcage and tried to take a deep breath. “I can't get a full breath, either."

  "That happens with broken ribs. I'm going to find a doctor for you, Vesper."

  "I've never needed one before,” Vesper replied.

  "Maybe you do now."

  "Why do you say that?” Vesper asked.

  "I saw something different before we left,” Jerrod replied.

  "Different? More different than the circus act of townsfolk and a demon with the trots?"

  "Yeah. Way different. When I lifted you, a part of you stayed behind. A shadowy image. It reminded me of a pointillism sketch. A thousand pinpoints of Vesper remained behind. And the smoke took it as I took you. And I saw the Lady Washington out in the bay."

  "The what?” Vesper asked. Jerrod glanced back at her. Her skin had grown pale, and she was perspiring.

  "A tall ship. One used in movies and TV all the time,” he replied.

  "You saw a ship?” Vesper asked.

  "Yes. Rather decrepit looking, but yes."

  Vesper coughed again. She wiped blood away from her lips. “I've changed my mind, Jerrod. You'd better take me to a hospital. I think it's over."

  "What's over?"

  "The curse arrived in a haze of black smoke. I think it went out the same way. My onus has been abated. I'm...” She paused. “I'm free."

  "Oh, my God,” Jerrod whispered. “That ship was..."

  "The Sea Shadow? I don't know. We burnt that ship to its iron rivets. All I can say for certain is that I am in pain, I am not healing, and for the first time in centuries, I feel clean. I may be covered with soot, blood and dirt, but I feel clean."

  * * * *

  Three days later

  Jerrod's cell phone buzzed. He glanced down at it and whispered “Yes!” while pulling his fist back in a victorious gesture as he scrolled through a text message.

  Vesper didn't awaken. She'd been admitted to Sook County Hospital. They knew about the fire at Mooncusser Cove. It had made Dave and Sheri's morning radio news blurb.

  He'd tap danced around why Vesper was being admitted to a hospital four hours from the cove. They quit asking questions when he flashed cash. Jerrod was pretty damned pleased with himself that he was getting that Paladin thing down.

  But best of all—Vesper was going to make a full recovery. Having never been injured or ill before, she was not the most compliant patient, however. The soft diet of green Jell-O and soft boiled eggs left her a bit testy.

  He tucked a paper napkin under her chin. “Quit your kvetching and eat your delicious Jell-O cup, my sweet. If you finish your dinner without grumbling, I'll tell you a little secret."

  Vesper lifted the hospital-standard stainless steel spoon to her lips. “I loathe Jell-O."

  "That's a grumble. Don't you want to know a secret?” Jerrod asked.

  "My whole life was a secret. I really don't want any more."

  "Ah, consider this an unusual occurrence, then. One that will have direct impact on your future,” Jerrod replied.

  "Don't tell me I'm pregnant! Three days as a born-again human and somehow I've saved sperm like a snake and am pregnant? Where's my labwork chart? Let me see it."

  "You are not pregnant, Vesper,” Jerrod replied.

  "Then, what? I'm tired. I want to go to sleep. Before you head to the hotel would you please shut the curtains? I hate the moon. And it's large and full tonight."

  "It's only lighting your way, dearest. Showing you the way home."

  "What the hell are you talking about, Jerrod?” She was tired. Tired, testy and without humor.

  "Seems forty-eight hours ago nine people of similar surname, in various parts of the United States, all applied for new passports or a driver's license or filed an affidavit of lost birth certificate."

  "Yeah, so?” Vesper replied.

  "One such citizen lives not two hours from here. Her name is Lauds. Lauds Highgate-Adaire."

  "My sister,” Vesper replied. “She lived six hours away from me, and I never knew it? For forty years?"

  "She kept off the grid. Under the radar. Just like
you. My sources say that she's moved quite a bit. Only been in the neighboring state for a month or so. Then there's Terce Highgate-Adaire in Sumas, Washington. She moved there a year ago from another Canadian border town, Browning, Montana. Applied for a passport. And Nonne Highgate-Adaire in Las Vegas. Applied for, of all things, a marriage license at the courthouse. Congrats. One of your sisters is getting married.” Jerrod paused concerned that Vesper had gone ashen. “You're not tracking well, are you? Don't you get it? The curse lifted, not just off of you, but off your entire family. It really is over, Vesper."

  "Do you have phone numbers?” she asked. She forced a deep breath and winced as her ribs refused the expansion of her lungs.

  "Vesper, my lawyers got me everything except blood types."

  Vesper held out her hand, smiling for the first time in days. “May I use your cell phone, please?"

  Epilogue

  University campus police station, five hundred miles from Mooncusser Cove.

  A young man wept as a police officer rolled his fingers in ink, then against a fingerprint card. “I'm so sorry,” he wept.

  "Save it for the jury, son,” the officer replied. “Spell your name for me. Last name first, first name last."

  "Spinelli. S-P-I-N-E-L-L-I. Jimmy. Just like it sounds. What's going to happen to me? Why am I covered in blood? Is it my blood? What's going on?” the boy asked.

  "And save that for the precinct's shrink, Mr. Spinelli,” the officer replied.

  "I don't remember anything! Why am I here?” Jimmy cried.

  "Because you took a bite out of your date. You ripped open her jugular. She's dead. They found you with her body."

  Jimmy heaved and vomited. Blood. “Oh, my God,” he sobbed. “What did she do to me?"

  The End

  About the Author:

  Darragha Foster is the author of the award-winning novel “Love's Second Sight” a passionate Viking-Age romance that took her to Iceland and the Isle of Tiree for some extremely hands-on research. Darragha's second book, “The Orca King” startled the likes of even Mrs. Giggles with its “shift into a whale” hero. She loves to feed the snarks and hopes to someday catch one and attach a ray gun to its head.