Dark Justice: A Supernatural Thriller

by Donnie Light

  Galen just stared at her for a moment. They looked into each other’s eyes and Galen noticed a slight blush rise to her cheeks. She looked beautiful all of a sudden. Somewhere along the line, a complete transformation had come over her. She did not look “small-town cute” anymore. She looked like a beautiful, sensuous woman. She was a competent, strong-willed female that set fire to his heart. Galen wondered if what he felt at that moment was true love. The thought scared him.

  “What?” Audra asked. She broke the eye-locking gaze by looking down at her bare feet.

  “Nothing,” Galen said, “I was just thinking.”

  “Oh,” Audra said with a disappointed tone. A moment of silence passed. “We’d better get some sleep,” she said, moving back across the bed. She tugged at the blankets and fluffed her pillows. She slid beneath the sheets at the far side of the bed. “Yeah, you’re right,” Galen said. He was still clad in a pair of jeans but wore no shirt or socks. He lay down on top of the blankets and dropped one of his two pillows on the floor. “I sure am tired,” she said. “It’ll feel good to get a little sleep for a change.”

  Although she claimed to be tired, Audra’s voice seemed full of energy as she spoke. Galen looked over to see her staring at the ceiling before he clicked off the light.

  “G’night Audra,” Galen said.

  “Good night,” she returned.

  Galen stared into the complete darkness of the room. With the shades over the window pulled the room was as dark as a cave. He tried to dig through his shambled thoughts of Audra. Within the last few minutes, he had a funny feeling in the center of his chest. He longed to reach out to her and pull her close. He could imagine the smell of her hair and the smoothness of her skin. Am I falling in love? he wondered. After so many years, is it happening now?

  He wondered how Audra felt about him. After all, she had gotten upset with him more than once during the last couple of days. Yet, he had kept his temper under control for the entire day today and his mouth had not betrayed him. Maybe he had a chance with her, maybe not. He felt Audra’s hand close over his upper arm as he argued the point with himself.

  “You asleep yet?” she whispered.

  “No,” he whispered back.

  Audra lay silent for a few seconds. “I’m afraid, Galen,” she said. “I hope Paxon can help us.” She slid her hand down his arm and clasped his hand in hers. “I want this to be over.”

  “Me too,” Galen said. He squeezed her hand. “More than anything, I want this to be over.” He rolled toward her in the bed, unable to see her in the darkness.

  “What will you do when this is over?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” she said, “will this change your life in any way?”

  Galen thought for a moment. “Yes,” he finally answered. “I would have never believed in anything like this if it hadn’t happened to me. I guess it already has changed my life. I now know things like this are possible. Do you know what that means?” Audra did not answer. “It means all of those things that I never believed in could also be possible. All those weird things that science can’t explain, could be possible. Near death experiences, ESP, ghosts…” Galen was silent for just a moment, and then spoke again. “I guess I’ll have to look at all those things in a new light.”

  Again, a moment of silence ensued.

  “Anything else?” Audra asked.

  “Yea,” Galen said. He was not sure if he wanted to bring this up right now, but a certain thought had been on his mind for a while. He wanted to run it by Audra. “I’m thinking about giving up my career as a Paramedic.”

  No silence this time. Audra spoke immediately. “What?” she asked. “I thought you loved your job.”

  “I’ve been at it a long time,” Galen said, his voice flat, emotionless. “I’ve seen so much pain, so much death.” He paused for a few seconds. “I just don’t know if I can take it any longer.”

  “But you’re so good at it,” Audra responded. “I’ve never seen anyone as good at it as you are, Galen.”

  “I’ve served my time, Audra. I just don’t think I can take it anymore.”

  “Would this decision have anything to do with Al’s death?” Audra asked.

  “Maybe,” Galen said. “I don’t know for sure.” He sat up in the bed and put his feet to the floor. He reached for a cigarette. “I seem to get depressed after calls more often than I used to,” Galen said. “It’s like this huge responsibility is always resting on my shoulders. Sometimes, the pressure is just too much.”

  “What would you do?” Audra asked.

  “My Dad’s got an accounting business near Chicago,” Galen said. “He’s always wanted me to take it over before he retires. I’ve been thinking about taking him up on his offer.”

  “I can’t picture you in an office,” Audra said. She squeezed his arm. “Are you sure about this?”

  “No, I’m not,” Galen said. “I just think it’s time to take a look at the possibilities.”

  “It’s not your fault that Al died,” Audra said. “You did everything you could.”

  “I know,” Galen said. “I didn’t say it was.”

  “You’ve got to believe it and realize that you can’t save everyone.”

  “Don’t try to analyze me, Audra,” Galen said with an angry edge to his voice. “I’m a big boy and can take care of myself.” The tip of his cigarette glowed brightly as he took a deep drag from it, casting a dull red light on the wall.

  “How many lives have you saved, Galen? Did you ever stop to think about that? Did you ever think about all of the families that are still together because of you, because of how good you are at what you do?”

  “Stop it!” Galen hissed. “What about my happiness? What about me? Who takes care of me when I need help?” Galen’s voice began to crack. “Who cares for the care-givers?”

  The door to that dark closet in Galen’s mind burst open. Painful memories gushed out in a flood of tears. All the pain he had kept to himself for all those years were released in an hour-long crying spell.

  Audra held him close. She placed his head against her chest and stroked his hair as a mother might comfort a child. Then they talked, they kissed and they made love.

  § § §

  The alarm went off at one o’clock in the morning. Neither of them felt they had gotten enough sleep.

  Galen switched on the light. “What do you think,” he asked, “another hour?”

  Audra nodded her head and yawned. “I could use more than that,” she said.

  Galen reset the alarm clock and turned off the light. He didn’t want to delay leaving for much longer because he wanted to get to Savannah.

  The extra hour flew by and before they knew it the alarm was banging out its warning that their time was up. They groggily got up from the bed. After showering, they left the motel.

  They found a twenty-four-hour convenience store and bought some coffee and rolls. Within a few more minutes, they were rolling along highway 65 toward Nashville.

  The sun rose over the hills as they passed through the home of country music. Galen pulled over at a restaurant to have a real breakfast.

  They had both been in better spirits since last night. They both felt some deep, dark void in their lives had been filled by the other and the feelings they had for each other was enough to build a relationship. A relationship that they both not only wanted; but needed.

  After a satisfying breakfast served by a young girl with a strong southern drawl, Galen went to a phone. He called the Fire Department first to find out about the fire. He was answered this time by a voice that he recognized immediately.

  “Chief,” Galen said. “How’re things going?”

  “Galen?” the chief answered. “Where the Hell are you?”

  “Didn’t you get my message?” Galen asked.

  “Yeah, I got it,” the Chief said, “but that doesn’t tell me where the Hell you are.”

  Galen said, “Actually, I’m
somewhere south of Nashville.”

  “What the Hell are you doin’ way down there?”

  “It’s a little hard to explain,” Galen said, “it’s a personal emergency Chief, I had no choice.”

  “I know,” the Chief said, “but when the Hell do you think you’ll be back?” Chief Atley rarely completed a sentence without using the word ‘Hell’ at least once.

  “Probably a couple of days,” Galen said. “I’ll keep in touch and be back as soon as possible.”

  “Yeah,” the Chief said. “Get back in a hurry. We’ve got a Hell of a mess out here.”

  “What happened?” Galen asked.

  “A fuel storage tank over at Huntley’s place went up and blew two more all to Hell before we could cool it down. Helluva mess.”

  “What’s going on now?” Galen asked.

  “It’s still burnin’,” the chief said. “Hell, we’ll have to let ’er burn herself out. Listen Galen, I gotta get back out to the scene. There’s a guy here that needs to talk to ya’.” The Chief’s voice disappeared, replaced by another.

  “Galen Morris?” the vaguely familiar voice asked.

  “Yeah, this is he,” Galen answered.

  “Galen, this is Clive Jennings, Al Gaston’s attorney,” the voice said. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  “What can I do for you Mr. Jennings?” Galen asked, now associating a face with the name.

  “I just wanted to let you know that Al has left everything to you in his will,” Jennings said. “I need to meet with you to have you sign some papers as soon as you can get here.”

  Galen was silent for a moment. “What did you say?” Galen asked the attorney.

  “Mr. Gaston has left everything he owned to you, Galen. I need to have you sign some papers so we can get this thing all wrapped up.”

  “He didn’t leave it to his nephew?” Galen asked.

  “He doesn’t have a nephew.”

  “Sure he does, out east. He told me about him.”

  “Well, if he did, he didn’t leave anything to him. It all goes to you, Galen Morris.”

  “Okay,” Galen said, still unbelieving. “I’ll come see you when I get back to town.”

  “I’ll be expecting you,” the attorney said. “The sooner the better, Galen.”

  Galen hung up the phone in disbelief.

  § § §

  John Paxon had things to do. Galen and his girl would be here within the next few hours and Paxon had not left his bottle long enough to plan ahead. He needed a secluded place, a few supplies, rope and a gun. He hoped he would not have much trouble with them, and if he did, the gun would tip the scale in his favor.

  He would certainly have to be careful. No one should see him with the two visitors. He remembered the messages Galen had left on his answering machine and removed the tape. He stuck the tape in his pocket as he dialed the school. He pleaded sickness, not having used that for an excuse for more than two months.

  He took another nip from the bottle. He went through the house looking for a box to put his collection of supplies in. He took the gun from his nightstand drawer, checked that it was loaded and put it into the box. He grabbed a handful of extra cartridges, (.38 hollow points; he was not playing games with anyone who was unfortunate enough to break into his house) and placed those into the box with the gun. He went to the garage where he spotted a coil of clothesline rope hanging on a nail and dropped it into the box. He glanced around his workbench, which had not seen any action in years. Spotting a utility knife, he picked it up and checked the blade. It was slightly rusted, had a couple of nicks in it, but he figured it would still cut the soft rope. He dropped it into the collection box. As he turned to leave the workbench, he noticed a few nylon wire-ties that an electrician had left when he had the new furnace installed in the house. Those also went into the box.

  Paxon picked up the phone in his study and looked up his brother’s telephone number.

  “Hello?” a voice answered.

  “Tommy?” Paxon said, “is that you?”

  “John?” the voice said, sounding unsure. “Yeah it’s me. Something wrong?”

  “No, hey, I was just wondering if anybody was living out at the old place anymore,” Paxon said.

  “Nobody’s lived there in over a year, John. If I heard from you more often, you’d know that.”

  Paxon and his only brother Tom, had grown up on a farm a few miles outside of town. Neither of the boys wanted to continue farming so when their father died their mother sold off the land. She had kept only the house and the out-buildings and lived there for the rest of her life. She had died nearly four years ago.

  “Well, you know how busy things are,” Paxon said. “It seems like every time you turn around these days you’ve got somethin’ to do.”

  “Yep, I know what you mean,” his brother said. “But you never come around John, and you never seem to be home. I bet I’ve tried calling you a dozen times in the last year and always get that blasted answering machine.”

  Paxon did not want to tell him he had heard him leave several of the messages while he sat drunk in front of the TV, bottle in one hand, cigarette in the other. He had been too busy doing nothing and had not wanted to leave the bottle long enough to take the time to talk. He had meant to return the calls the following day, in a series of endless tomorrows that found him in the same mood and the same situation.

  “I’m sorry, Tommy,” Paxon said, in his most apologetic voice. “Let’s get together real soon. I’ve been writing a novel about this local legend. It’s been takin’ up a lot of my time but I’m almost done with it.”

  “That’s good to hear, John,” Tommy said. “Let’s do that. You probably could use a good home-cooked meal. I’ll have Peggy whip up a somethin’ good and we’ll sit and talk.”

  “Sounds good,” Paxon said.

  The line was quiet for a few seconds before Tommy spoke up again.

  “What are you askin’ about the old place for, John?”

  “I was just wonderin’ about it,” he said. “I’ve got to drive over that way on business this week and thought I might swing by it.”

  Tommy hesitated for a moment. “The place is in dire need of some repairs,” he said. “I couldn’t keep up with it. It seemed like every time I turned around, the tenants were calling about one thing or another. First, the hot water went out, and then the pump broke down. The roof started to leak and the list just kept getting longer. I didn’t have the time or the money to fix it up right, so I’ve just let it sit empty for a while.”

  “I see,” Paxon said. “Maybe if things work out on this book I’m writing, I’ll be able to help you out a little. It’s a shame for the place to be sittin’ like that. Momma and Daddy put so much into it.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’ve been thinking,” Tommy said. “I just haven’t had a choice.”

  “I know,” Paxon said. “I better let you go. I’ve got to get to work,” Paxon lied.

  “Me too,” Tommy said, “another day, another dollar.”

  “I’ll call you again soon,” Paxon said. “We’ll decide when we can get together.”

  The two brothers said their good-byes and Paxon hung up the phone. He rubbed his hands briskly together like a fly anticipating a meal.

  The old place would do nicely. Its seclusion would be perfect for what he had in mind.

  He ran through a brief plan in his head. Perhaps he should kill the woman right away. Then he would have one less to worry about while he and Morris waited—waited for death; for the Eater of Hearts to come knocking at the door.

  – Chapter 19 –

  After their hearty breakfast, Galen and Audra felt much better. Audra drove and Galen fiddled with his injured left hand. He carefully wiped it with some anti-bacterial pads and replaced the dressings while Audra drove them toward Atlanta.

  After finishing with the dressings, Galen began to read the files again hoping to discover what Paxon had in mind. It bothered him that Paxon ha
d been so vague over the phone, not divulging his plans on how to stop the thing. He just hoped Paxon was right and whatever he had in mind did the job.

  When they arrived in Atlanta, Audra guided the Mustang off the highway and began seeking a gas station and a restaurant. After filling the car and making a pit stop at Hardees, Galen called Paxon’s house.

  “We’re in Atlanta,” Galen said, looking at his watch. “Looks like it’ll be closer to two o’clock before we get to Savannah. We slept a little later than we expected.”

  “I’m sure you needed it,” Paxon said through gritted teeth. He was angry about their delay. He wanted to get his plans underway, the sooner the better.

  “Yeah, we did,” Galen said. “Where do you want us to meet you?” he asked.

  Paxon gave Galen directions to the old family farm. He explained to Galen that he didn’t want to risk anybody being around to avoid any unnecessary risk. He told Galen how to recognize the farm house and to park in the back. “I’ll be waiting for you there,” Paxon said.

  “Uh, John,” Galen said as the conversation wound down, “what do you have in mind, anyway?”

  “It’s kind of hard to explain it over the phone,” Paxon said. He took a deep breath and tried to make up something that would get Galen to come to Savannah without making him suspicious. “There are some records about the Eater of Hearts that indicated a way to stop the curse. It was started by a ritual, and there’s supposed to be a ritual to stop it.” Paxon told Galen other lies about the curse. Lies about how he had met with modern-day practitioners of the African religion and had gotten their input on ways to stop it. “I made it sound like I was asking hypothetical questions,” Paxon said. “I didn’t want to tell them this was for real. I just wanted them to think I was just curious.”

  “What does it involve?” Galen asked, curious as to what they had to do.

  “There are some religious articles I have here with me,” Paxon lied, looking into his box of supplies. “Think of it as an exorcism, Galen,” Paxon said. “It’s something like that, but not really the same. I’ll assure you that we will maintain a safe escape route in case anything goes wrong. We’ll make it as safe as possible.”