Scott Nicholson Library Vol 1

by Scott Nicholson

  As if to support Snead’s words, thunder rumbled over the far hills. The sky had gone from sunny to dismal in scarcely half an hour. The wind gained force, and branches creaked on the slopes below. More clouds massed overhead, black and gray rags torn in anger.

  Julia allowed herself to be led along the cliff. She was numb, as if her blood had stilled itself in her veins. A lamb to slaughter.

  They squeezed between two large boulders and emerged into a flat clearing. Hartley was waiting, dressed in a brown wool robe, the hood thrown back to reveal the dome of his bald head. His eyes were set deep in the bones of his face, condemned to always look out at the world from shadows.

  “Anybody follow you, Lucius?” Hartley said.

  “Nobody,” Snead answered. “Triplett ought to be in custody by now.”

  “Should have put him out of the way a long time ago.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m sure we can arrange a little ‘accident.’ A chase through the woods, he falls from a cliff trying to elude arrest, nobody will think twice about it. Not with his past.”

  Hartley pulled a gun from his robe. “Unless the Triplett whore’s bones turn up. And the bones of the baby she gave us. Then somebody else might start snooping around, like Judas Stone here.”

  The Triplett whore? Walter’s wife. Oh, God, no. What kind of woman could give up her infant as a sacrifice?

  Julia’s anger revived her, and she fought against Snead’s grip. Three more hooded figures emerged from the trees. It was as if Satan had summoned them out of earth, wind, fire, and water. They surrounded her, rough hands groping and clutching her limbs.

  “Tie her,” Hartley ordered.

  Julia struggled but was overpowered and forced to the ground. Her hands were yanked behind her and her feet bound with rope. A faint scent of perfume crossed her nostrils, and a slender hand touched her cheek. The whispers went into her ears and through the lost rooms of her soul.

  “You’re one of us,” Dr. Forrest said. “You’ve always been one of us.”

  “You bitch,” Julia spat. “I’ve never been one of you.”

  “You were born one of us,” Dr. Forrest said. “You belong.”

  “The master is ready,” Hartley said, looking around, the gun pointed at the turbulent sky. The wind had risen, now was chattering and screaming through the trees. “He’s given us the signs.”

  “What do we do after we finish her?” Snead asked Hartley.

  “Let Satan decide.”

  “There are too many loose ends, Hartley. Satan’s supposed to blind the weak. But bodies have turned up, and sooner or later somebody’s going to link us to Memphis.”

  “Are you doubting, my Brother Judas?”

  The hooded figures stood around Julia, watching the confrontation. Julia noticed two of them wore patent leather shoes. Cop shoes.

  Snead said, “He has truly blessed us. I’m just thinking about it from a law-enforcement perspective.”

  Hartley’s voice rivaled the low thunder that crept over the hills. “There’s only one law, and only one enforcer.”

  Julia looked up at Snead, saw the man’s aquiline face redden in anger. “That’s easy for you to say. You make the messes, and I have to clean them up.”

  Hartley raised his left hand as if addressing the sky. “Even the book of fools acknowledges the master of this world.” Hartley smiled at Julia. “Four-oh-six, Judas.”

  A gunshot echoed over the hills, coming from the rocks near the peak of the ridge. Julia’s heart clenched.

  Walter. They must have found him.

  She pictured him slumped in the leaves, blood pouring from his chest. Shot while trying to escape, they’d say. But Julia would know the real truth: that he had given his life trying to protect her. And she had doubted him and his God.

  Hartley had ducked at the sound and now motioned Snead to investigate. Snead and two of the hooded figures disappeared among the boulders. Hartley whispered, “Watch the whore,” and then slipped into the trees. Julia lay on the ground, tied and helpless, alone with Dr. Forrest.

  The doctor knelt beside Julia, gently stroking Julia’s hair. Julia cringed from the contact, sickened by the possibility of Walter’s death. She sobbed.

  “Hush, Sister Judas,” Dr. Forrest said to her. “You’re nearly healed.”

  What was this crazy woman saying? How many others had she polluted in her role as a therapist? How many other vulnerable victims were led to this wicked end by Dr. Forrest’s manipulation?

  Dr. Forrest smiled down at her, like a Madonna upon a child. “If only your father could see you now.”

  “What about my father?” Julia managed to ask through her confusion.

  “He was weak, a fool. He lost his courage just when he was about to enter the Inner Circle. Imagine the power Satan would have bestowed upon him if only he’d have had the strength to seize it.”

  “No,” Julia said. “You told me—you made me remember that he molested me.”

  Dr. Forrest laughed, a sound as sinister as the whipping of the rattlesnake’s tail. “Douglas Stone couldn’t molest a lamb, much less a living human being. Your mother was the strong one, the one willing to sacrifice everything. Then, when it came time to deliver you unto the master, Douglas stole you.”

  Dr. Forrest’s face grew dark and her eyebrows made arrow tips. “But nobody runs away from the Brotherhood. And the Master doesn’t suffer fools.”

  “What did you do to him?” Julia fought against her bonds, but now, just like 23 years ago, she couldn’t break free. She was angry at these monsters, a rage that almost drove the colors of her mind from black to red. But she was even angrier at herself, to think she could have let someone else build false memories in her head, to have allowed someone to own her so completely.

  “He’s in a better place now,” Dr. Forrest said, a vacant smile on her face. “The master surely saved one of the hottest pits of hell for that pathetic worm. I was one of those who came for you that night. Douglas had called the cops, and we could hear the sirens. If Snead hadn’t been there to protect us—”

  Dr. Forrest closed her eyes as if to control her rage. After a moment, she opened them and continued. “Your father broke the window and tried to shove you through. Your belly was cut on the glass. There was so much blood, so much magic. And Douglas wasted it.”

  The scars on Julia’s abdomen. They weren’t the beginnings of a pentagram after all. They were wounds, not the brand of a possessor.

  She knew Dr. Forrest couldn’t resist talking, so she decided to learn as much as she could. “Why me?”

  “Your mother believed enough to offer her own flesh and blood and breath. But Douglas betrayed us. A Judas among Judases. You must come to Satan to pay for your father’s betrayal.”

  Julia’s eyes filled with tears. “Wasn’t killing him payment enough?”

  Dr. Forrest had returned to the soothing tones she’d used in their therapy sessions, adopting her familiar role. “You’re still so confused, Julia. Don’t fight the truth. Just giving your life isn’t enough. You have to give him everything. You have to believe.”

  Believe. In a belief system crafted to teach morality, but also offering an alternative to those who didn’t want to wait a lifetime before receiving eternal rewards. Satan wasn’t a snake, a silver ring, or anything that wore flesh. It was only a symbol for the naked human lust for power. For selfish gratification and twisted indulgence, no matter the ultimate cost.

  And she had paid all her life in their sick coin. Now Walter had cashed out, too.

  “We wanted you to come unto Satan in willing innocence. After all these years, the only way to do that was to make you see his power and accept it. Satan demands a total surrender from his whores.” Dr. Forrest gave a leering grin. “That’s how I serve him.”

  Someone shouted in the forest, and another shot rang out. Julia’s heart leapt with hope. Walter must still alive!

  And if he were willing to keep fighting, so was she. She didn’t have a
gun, but she had a different weapon. Dr. Forrest craved one thing greater than an imaginary master’s blessing.

  For years, people have tried to make me someone I’m not. So maybe it’s time to ‘become’ that person. Let’s see what Judas Stone can do.

  “I . . . I was willing,” Julia said. “You’re right. I was confused. But you and Dr. Danner have helped me so much.”

  Dr. Forrest beamed with approval. “Lance thought it was best that we get you away from Mitchell. Lucius thought so, too. I’m glad they sent you to me. I feel that I understand you. We’re the same.”

  “Yes,” Julia said. “I couldn’t have made it without you. I would still be so lost.”

  “The truth will set you free.”

  “I want to be free.”

  The doctor’s eyes shone with a manic gleam. “Embrace him, then. Surrender yourself.”

  More shouting came from the high rocks. The wind was roaring now, clouds colliding like the ragged sails of warships, the sky nearly solid black in the late afternoon. One of the hooded Satanists emerged from the trees and came into the clearing. It was Hartley.

  “Bring the whore,” he said, anger in his voice.

  “What’s wrong?” Dr. Forrest asked.

  “Triplett has a gun. We have to hurry. Bring her to the altar.”

  Hartley disappeared into the forest again. Julia fought an urge to scream, “If Satan’s so almighty powerful, why can’t he stop bullets?” But in every religion, even the ones predicated on evil instead of good, faith was blind, frail, and ultimately human.

  “I want to give myself,” Julia said. “I’m healed now.”

  Dr. Forrest frowned. “But you were angry—”

  “Only at myself,” Julia said, imitating the blissful drone that Dr. Forrest had instilled in her during dozens of sessions. “But now I see. The Master has gone to so much trouble. I am honored.”

  “You are his favorite,” Dr. Forrest said. “And I’ve helped bring you to him.”

  “Please. Untie my feet, so that I can go with a willing heart.”

  Dr. Forrest hesitated.

  “You heard Brother Hartley,” Julia continued. “We don’t have much time, and I don’t think you can carry me, even if the Master lends his strength.”

  Julia almost choked on this false testimony she was babbling. She tried to remember the words of the televangelist from the misdirected–or planted–videotape. If she could adopt some of that same self-righteous flavor and use it to the “Master’s” glory, Dr. Forrest might swallow it.

  “I want to be one of you,” Julia said. “I want to go to him in glory. I’ve seen his power. Untie me, so that I might embrace him. So I can go to him of my own free will.”

  Free will, which the Satanists worshipped almost as much as they did their hollow deity and their own selfishness.

  “You’ll have to be marked.” Dr. Forrest rubbed her own pentagram scar through the robe. “Serve him through the pain and blood.”

  Julia tried a sincere, rapt look. It felt thin on her face, an obvious fake. But Dr. Forrest was blind. She saw only what she wanted to see. Her eyes were bright in the eagerness to heal Julia, to bring a new Sister into the fold, to claim a victory so that her dark master might smile upon her.

  “I’m ready to wear his ring,” Julia said, hoping that was the right thing to say. “I’m ready to become the whore Judas Stone.”

  Dr. Forrest’s strong fingers pulled at the rope that bound her feet. The double-hitch knot came free and Julia wriggled the rope from her feet. Dr. Forrest pulled her into a standing position. “The altar’s ready,” the doctor said. “We’ve been working so long for this day.”

  Julia glanced up toward the granite peak. A robed figure clung to the face of a boulder, peering down the opposite slope. They were going to ambush Walter. Julia started toward the rocks, but Dr. Forrest grabbed the rope that trapped Julia’s hands behind her back.

  “This way, Judas Stone,” she said, tugging Julia in the direction in which Hartley had gone. Julia thought about pulling free and running, but she wouldn’t be able to help Walter while her hands were tied. She’d have to be patient and wait for her chance.

  They went through a stand of balsam and hickory and came upon a second, smaller clearing. In the middle was a flat boulder, surrounded by brown grass. A worn path circled the boulder. The altar had been used before, maybe to sacrifice Walter’s wife and child.

  Hartley crouched beneath a tree, sharpening his knife. He tucked the knife in his robe and approached them. His eyes were like pockets of fire beneath his heavy brow. “Judas Stone,” he said, smiling. “Are you ready to join us?”

  She nodded. She didn’t want to appear too eager, at least not in front of Hartley. Dr. Forrest was deranged, but Hartley’s face was crafted by a mixture of shrewdness and cruelty. Julia supposed that so-called High Priests didn’t ascend to their positions by accident. The Master chose wisely.

  “Put her on the altar,” Hartley said.

  Snead rushed into the clearing, his hood back, his robe askew on his shoulders. “We haven’t got him yet. We’re trying not to shoot him. A bullet’s harder to explain than an accidental fall.”

  Hartley gave a reptilian smile. “Brother Snead, that’s why the Master made you Chief of Police.”

  Snead again looked angry, and Julia saw that she might be able to use the in-fighting to her advantage.

  “It’s too much,” Snead said. “I can control my end, but if outsiders start snooping, the cracks start to show. Some reporter called me yesterday asking if we suspected Satanic activity in the death of the floater. The SBI might start asking questions, too.”

  “Just take care of your business, and let the Master take care of the rest.”

  “Damn it, Hartley, she’ll give you the money,” Snead said, looking at Julia. “All you have to do is tell her you’ll cut her eyes out if you don’t. Do we have to go through more of this damned mumbo-jumbo?”

  Hartley’s eyes grew even brighter. “Silence, Judas,” he roared.

  “What money?” Dr. Forrest asked.

  “The money Douglas Stone stole from the Brotherhood,” Snead said coldly. “Three million goddamned dollars. With interest, it could be twice that now.”

  Julia stared at the ground, pretending to be dazed and driven to the babbling edge by Dr. Forrest’s mental manipulation. Three million.

  “Brother Hartley?” Dr. Forrest asked. “What’s he talking about?”

  Snead continued. “Do you think we keep all these little covens going just for the hell of it? All our brothers and whores work for the Master, all right, but it comes down to money. Hookers, crack, guns. Or haven’t you heard that Satan rules the world?”

  Julia sneaked a glance at Dr. Forrest’s face. The woman looked as if she’d been clubbed in the head, her mouth fallen open, her eyes wide. “B-but the Master—”

  “The Master smiles, Judas Forrest,” Hartley said. “We spread wickedness. Love of money is the root of all evil.”

  “And take a cut of the profits,” Snead said. “Well, my cut’s going to be a little bigger. After all, I’m the one who stole drugs from the evidence locker. I’m the one who made sure those missing persons stayed missing and didn’t turn up as bones somewhere. And I want half.”

  “That wasn’t the deal,” Hartley said slowly.

  “New deal.” Snead pulled a gun from his robe, and for a moment Julia thought he was going to shoot Hartley. Instead, he stepped over to Julia and pressed the gun to her head.

  “Don’t!” commanded Hartley. “She’s the only one who can take the money out of the trust fund.”

  The barrel of the pistol was cold against Julia’s temple. She held her breath, counting down slowly. If she was going to die, she didn’t want to die in the blinding darkness of panic. She wanted to die thinking about what might have been, a future that led away from pasts that had never have occurred. She wanted to die healed and whole.

  She visualized the mountains, wher
e the ridges met the clouds. Walter was there on that imaginary horizon, waiting. And maybe something behind him, the shadow of his soul, the light of his heart.

  Walter’s God had ceded this world to sickness, lust, and greed, but even the frail hope of salvation was better than the certainty of nothingness.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The cold gun drew Julia back to the windy clearing. Three million dollars. The price of Julia’s soul.

  Mitchell must have known about the trust fund. With his connections, he probably knew about it before they’d even started dating. That made his possessiveness more understandable. Money and stolen underwear. The two ways into Mitchell’s worthless heart.

  Too bad she’d be dead before she ever had a chance to laugh in his face.

  “Come on,” Snead said to her, holding the gun steady. It was the same type as the one Walter had taken from Mitchell, a black automatic.

  Dr. Forrest stood near Hartley, her hands clasped together under her chin. Hartley glowered, his thin white hair tangled by the fierce wind. The surrounding forest had grown dark, with the spaces between trees filled with black shadow. The thunder was nearer now, and the ground seemed to shake under Julia’s feet.

  “She stays,” Hartley said. “She belongs to the Master.”

  “Cut the crap,” Snead said. “It’s just us now. No need to put on your Satan show.”

  “She belongs to him,” Hartley said.

  “This plan was screwed up from the start. You think she’s going to join the coven now and willingly give you the money? I don’t know why we had to waste all those years letting the shrinks mess with her head. The best way to mess with somebody’s head is to put a bullet it in.”

  “You forget your station,” Hartley said. “I’m the High Priest here.”

  “Circles within circles,” Snead said. “And who do you have to cut in on the deal? How many other people get a piece of the devil’s money?”

  “Brother Snead, don’t interfere with the Master,” Dr. Forrest pleaded. “Judas Stone was chosen. She was born to be one of us.”

  “Damn, ‘Sister,’“ Snead mocked. “You sound like you’ve fallen for your own brainwashing. You can stay here and try to explain all these bodies to the cops. The straight cops. Me, I’m taking this whore back to Memphis, where we’re going to stroll into Stone’s favorite S & L and make a little withdrawal.”