Visions of Evil

by J. E. Neiman

  He turned toward the sound of her voice.

  "It's over. Hands on your head!"

  The multiple beams of light were closer now. Westcott's voice, a little louder, called through the rain and the night. "Allie? Madison?"

  "Over here!"

  Jake Tansey began to move directly toward her beam of light.

  "Don't move. Stay where you are!"

  He paused for a second and smiled. A cold, icy smile. "I already killed part of you. Your gimpy sister's dead."

  "Stand still, Jake."

  "You're a spineless bitch." He moved steadily toward her. His voice snarled like a trapped animal. "I warned you to stop your psychic shit. But no—you two wouldn't leave me the fuck alone . . ."

  She tried to find a nonfatal target. A leg, a shoulder . . . but what if she missed? Jake won't hesitate to kill me, she thought. He has nothing to lose.

  Her arms trembled as she tried to hold the gun steady, but he continued moving toward her. "Stop!"

  She backed away two steps, her legs lodged against a large boulder. Her heart raced and she screamed again, "Westcott!"

  Jake swiped at the air, inches in front of her. He shrieked and slammed into her. She fired the gun. His body crumpled and slid down to the ground at her feet.

  Chapter 78

  1876-Breckenridge, Colorado

  Our restaurant and bar, The Prospector, sat near the outskirts of town, a block away from the majority of other businesses. Madam Cat and her working girls were our closest neighbors in the Victorian house across the street. Since they served spirits to their cliental, we'd agreed not to compete after 8 pm. I was thankful for that, because it reduced the drunks from our establishment and shortened my work day.

  Often, Levi would be gone for more than a week when he traveled to Alma, Leadville and other mining settlements. I dreaded his absence, but understood that as a doctor's wife, I could not complain. It was a difficult to operate the business alone.

  Levi helped me in the late afternoons and evenings, but when he traveled, I struggled to be the cook, waitress, bartender and dishwasher. Sometimes, Madam Cat's girls would assist me if they had slow afternoons or evenings. Two in particular, became good friends.

  Molly, with her long flowing blonde hair, looked as if she was twelve, not fifteen. Her parents had both died in a tornado in Kansas. They'd spread their bodies on top of her to save her life. A church family took Molly in to their home, after the tragic deaths, but she said they treated as if she was a slave.

  Molly had run away, hoping to become a hurdy-gurdy girl, a pretty hostess at a bar in a mining town. These women sold drinks and provided visual entertainment for the gentlemen at bars. Sometimes they would perform on a small stage in the establishment and Molly had visions of becoming a famous performer.

  But things didn't happen as Molly had dreamed. Madam Cat found her nearly freezing to death in an empty building in Leadville. She'd gathered Molly under her wing.

  Sylvia, an old woman at thirty-six, helped too. She had a wonderful sense of humor and poked fun at her hook nose, overbite and age. Built like a man and almost six foot tall, Sylvia never hesitated to push the drunks out of the Prospector at 8 pm, aiming them at Madam Cat's house. I felt safe when Sylvia worked alongside me. She often chided herself about her lack of business with the younger miners.

  "Honey, the old ones are too weary to trek into town after digging shafts," she'd say.

  In the late summer, Levi traveled to Leadville due to an outbreak of smallpox. Seven days passed and he'd not returned. I'd been ill every morning since he'd left, throwing up and weak. Molly came over before lunch and was shocked to see my condition. She asked Madam Cat to come check on me.

  "Pearl," Cat had said. "When's the last time you bled?"

  I shrugged. "It's been a couple of months."

  "You're pregnant." She giggled.

  "I . . . no . . . Levi's careful."

  Madam Cat burst into laughter. "Well, evidently not careful enough." She patted my tummy. "Pearl, just get up in the morning, vomit and do what you have to do. You'll get better."

  The thought of raising a child and working the business alarmed me, but I knew Levi would be pleased about starting a family. Things will work out, I told myself.

  After Madam Cat left, Molly paced the floor. "You want to get rid of it?"

  "What?"

  "Madam Cat and Sylvia know how."

  I stared at her in dismay. "No, Molly."

  "Sorry. Didn't mean to offend."

  "I couldn't destroy my child." I pushed myself out of the chair and went toward the kitchen. "Please help me prepare today's special," not wanting to discuss the fate of my baby with her.

  I'd planned to cook chicken and noodles. The thought of it made me want to puke, but I wouldn't complain to Molly or anyone ever again.

  "I'll kill the hen. Could you bring the hot water outside? We'll pluck it together." I ducked out the back door, vomiting bile behind our building, and then wiped my face with my apron. The towering mountains glared down at me. "I can do this," I yelled at them, opening the chicken cage and pulling out a fat hen. The stink of fowl poop caused my stomach to rumble again.

  "Levi, please come home," I whispered.

  Molly cried out from inside the kitchen. I wondered if she had burned herself with the boiling water, but then the sound of male voices carried out to me. I dropped the chicken and it let out a loud squawk as I hurried to the kitchen.

  Inside, I found Molly in the clutches of a man. Blood oozed out of her neck.

  “Let go of her, Jake,” I yelled.

  He sneered at me and slammed Molly onto the hot stove. She screamed as the large pail of boiling water spilled onto her body. Molly collapsed onto the floor and became silent. I could smell her burning flesh.

  Jake pointed his gun at my heart before I even saw it clear his holster. I stared at it, believing that my last breath was about to be drawn.

  "You killed Red outside of Georgetown, bitch." He pounded the gun against my chest.

  "And you killed my brothers, my mama and my grandma," I said, grabbing at the gun, but he shoved my arms away and whipped my face with it. I reeled back and felt my cheek explode. I cried out in pain, calling out Levi's name.

  "He ain't going to save you bitch. We saw him in Leadville. Having a good time with that whore Kate."

  Jake was lying. He had to be. I glanced at Molly. She hadn't moved since she’d fallen to the floor.

  "If you ain't going to screw her, I am," Eli said.

  Jake pointed the gun at him for a second. "Back off, Eli. You can have the dead one over there. This one's mine, then I’ll kill her like I did her mommy.”

  He reached down, yanked my skirts up, and tore my undergarments away. My rage became something wild and living. I scratched and pounded him. I had survived too much to give in to this monster.

  Eli stood watching with cold enjoyment as Jake fumbled his britches open. I felt the hardness of his belt, the smooth leather of his holster and something else.

  My hands were pinned at my side, but Jakes' knife sheath was at the tips of my fingers.

  He loosened his pants and pulled his member free. I forced myself to relax against the floor and spread my legs so that he slipped between them, bringing my hand toward the sheath. My fingers curled around the smooth hilt of his knife and I slid it out just as he shoved into me. I shouted out with humiliation, violation but most of all with rage.

  I came up hard with the knife, slamming it into his side just beneath his ribs and then yanking it out as he sat straight up, reaching for the wound. Before he could react, I'd buried the blade to the hilt into his heart. Blood squirted all over me as I watched his face contort with pain and shock. He wavered, still between my legs, his erection not yet aware that the rest of him was dead. I pushed him back and wiggled away as he fell over.

  Eli stared at me as if he couldn't believe what he'd seen. I faced him brave and bold, but defenseless. I realized too late tha
t I'd left Jake's knife embedded in his chest.

  Eli stepped toward me.

  "Leave," I screamed.

  A bemused smile tipped his mouth. "No, I don’t think so," he said. He shoved Jake’s body away with a boot, and then pulled his gun in one swift movement.

  All sense of time and place left me as I saw the cocked pistol.

  I heard the sound of the shot crack the air, smelled the smoke, and tasted the gunpowder at the back of my throat.

  My body fell to the floor and my last thoughts were of the baby inside me.

  A brilliant light called to me and as it lifted me, I gazed at my physical body on the floor below. Poor Molly lay there too, along with wicked Jake.

  I floated outside to witness Cat standing on the Victorian porch with her shotgun still smoking. Eli’s body came into view a few steps away in the dusty street.

  It was then I decided to stay in this place and wait for my husband to come home. I remain here, for Levi.

  Chapter 79

  Sedona, Arizona

  The crumbled body at her feet shifted and she heard a low groan. "Don't move," she hissed. Dropping one knee to the ground, she pointed her revolver and flashlight at Jake, ready to shoot again. Her heart fluttered like a bird and Allie realized she was gasping for air. Taking deep breaths, she focused on inner control.

  A gray ring swirled in the beam of her light like a pinwheel in the night. It seemed to emit an eminence of evil from the outer edges. She shuddered as it spun into a tight circle and vanished. "My mind's playing games," she whispered.

  Twigs snapped and the sound of footsteps approached. Allie knew that help had arrived but she did not move. She felt suspended in time, frozen to the moment.

  "Over here." her voice sounded guttural and raspy.

  Westcott yelled out, "Jake Tansey. On the ground, now!"

  Flashlight beams shinned into her face and she squinted. "He's down." She realized they did not see the man lying before her.

  "You okay, Allie?" Westcott approached with caution.

  "I . . . shot him."

  Westcott grabbed her shoulders. He pulled her up and away from the limp body.

  "Disarm the perp and secure the scene," he said to the others.

  "You're bleeding. You need medical help."

  A female's voice called out, "Sir, perp has no pulse."

  "Where's Madison?" Westcott asked Allie while shining his flashlight around the area.

  "Oh God, she's . . . in the tank. Need to go!" She forced her arms out of Westcott's grip and started to move down the path.

  "Tank?" Westcott followed her. "Where?"

  "Down here. Hurry."

  "Wait. We'll find her." He caught up with Allie. "A medic will take you to an ambulance below."

  She turned to face Westcott, her stare like a shout in a crowd. "I'm going to my sister."

  When they reached the water storage vessel, Allie pointed toward it. "There!"

  Four officers and Westcott climbed the walls, and shined their flashlights into the tank. "Madison!" they yelled.

  There was no answer.

  Allie's injuries delayed her ascent. When she reached the rim, she was shivering from the cold. Her head ached and she was dizzy. "Maddie," she screamed down into the vessel.

  She knew her sister was alive; she could feel it. Pulling her legs over the edge, she jumped into the tank with a splash and found Madison floating on her back.

  "Help me," she screamed. Her words echoed against the concrete walls.

  Allie checked Madison's pulse. It was faint and her breathing shallow. The water, now three feet deep, smelled rancid. A large decaying bird drifted against her sister's torso. Allie pushed it away and shouted, "Help!"

  Three officers dropped in beside the sisters. They lifted Madison's cold body above the water. "We need a gurney with ropes, stat!" one yelled. "Contact Guardian Air."

  Chapter 80

  Flagstaff, Arizona Four hours had passed since Angel 3, the flight-for-life helicopter based out of Flagstaff, had airlifted Madison to the Medical Center. The medics had given Madison CPR in route, due to extreme hypothermia. Now in the ICU, Allie applied warm compresses to her sister's neck while the hemodialysis equipment hummed in the background.

  A young doctor entered the room and made notations on Madison's chart. "Good, her temperature's rising," he said. "And her color's better."

  "Thank God." Allie turned toward the man. "Please explain her condition. It's May and not that cold."

  "Being soaked by the rain on a cool night . . . can create hypothermia. Evaporation from the wind cools the body, dropping the internal temperature. Plus, Madison was thrown into a tank of water, possibly below 60 degrees. The average time of survival for a normal person is between one to five hours. Your sister's previous spinal injury and recent head trauma created a more vulnerable situation."

  Allie glanced at the thin, blonde-haired man who wore a scrawny mustache. He seemed competent and proud of his knowledge. She gave him a genuine smile of gratitude and asked, "But her kidneys?"

  "Oh, they're fine. The hemodialysis removes the blood, warms it and returns it to the body." He took a few steps toward the corridor. "Oh, is Pearl another sister?”

  Allison smiled. "No, but she is very special to both of us.”

  The doctor walked back to her. “Well, Maddie said her name a number of times so we wondered.” He touched her shoulder. "Miss Lewis, please go to the ER. The gash on your head needs stitches."

  "I will. My mother will be here soon. I'll go then."

  Allie braced her head in her hands as she sat next to Madison. It was difficult to grasp the intensity of the last twenty-four hours.

  She stood slowly. Her body was stiff, and she found it difficult to find any part of her that didn't shout with pain. Moving like a robot in slow motion, she went to the sink and washed her face. When she glanced in the mirror, she thought of how Jake had slammed an ax into Dan's back. "I'm glad I killed the bastard," she whispered.

  Allie's phone vibrated in her coat pocket. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand and clearing her throat, she walked to the window gazing out at the gunmetal colored sky, the first sign of dawn. "Hello," she sniffed.

  "It's me honey. Just refueled in Albuquerque. I'm next to take-off after a heavy. How's Maddie?"

  "Mom," Allie's voice radiated her anticipation of the call. "The Dr. said she's better. How long before you land?" Allie peered east and smiled. She could envision her Mom piloting the little Cessna, following an airliner into the sky. She was proud of her Mom, a petite wispy woman, who was strong and fearless, especially when it came to flying.

  "I'm vectored in. Have head winds. ETA less than two hours—"

  "Three November Foxtrot cleared for immediate take-off on two-six." Air traffic control had interrupted her Mom's voice.

  Allie heard her Mom's strong, pilot's reply, "Roger, Three November Foxtrot, cleared for take-off," then a quick, "See ya," into the cell phone.

  She moved back to Madison and whispered in her ear. "Everything's okay. Jake's dead. We survived and Mom will be here soon.” Allie saw her sister's eyes flutter, her mouth curved into a slight smile.

  "Good." Madison murmured. "Pearl’s here too.”

  “I know.”