He related everything that had happened to me as if he had been there. I just stayed quiet in the cramped back seat of her car, thinking about how to replace my missing firearms. Gun stores had waiting periods and I needed something right away. But my contact list for the criminal underworld was short. My cunning plan was feeling weaker and weaker the further we drove.
But doing something was better than doing nothing at all.
A quick stop for a bite to eat turned into a major detour as Megan followed a phone app to an organic co-op grocery store five miles off the highway. The place looked peaceful enough, with a stream of shoppers coming and going. At least a few of them had overloaded carts.
The store catered to the granola crowd, but I went inside and loaded a basket with energy bars and caffeinated beverages. We met up outside and Megan got us back on the road.
I almost broke a tooth on my quinoa, date, and hazelnut bar. It tasted like a stale rice cake. As my ribs still ached, I swallowed some more Tylenol and drank some energy drink to wash it down. Megan sipped at a bottle of green algae smoothie while Carter nibbled at a monster piece of corn bread in a paper wrapper.
Megan followed her phone’s directions back to the highway nonchalantly, as if the lengthy detour hadn’t taken us almost thirty minutes. She eyed me in the rearview mirror.
“So what’s your plan?” she asked.
“I was going to figure that out as we go,” I said.
“That’s not good enough. Do you think this town is dangerous? Do we need to call the police before going in?”
“This isn’t a ‘we’ thing. I’m going in alone. I know where the house is and what I’m doing. You and Carter will wait by the car.”
She clearly didn’t like my answer, but she accelerated and soon we were in the fast lane passing everyone. It was her car, it would be her ticket. But the last thing we needed was to get questioned by the cops. No doubt the local highway patrol was dealing with crazies and probably fraying at the seams themselves.
“Slow down,” I said.
We passed a Tesla on the right and cut off a minivan that flashed its lights at us.
“Megan,” Carter said.
She let up on the accelerator and we drifted just shy of eighty miles per hour. We were still the fastest car on the road, though. No one spoke, which suited me fine. I caught a nap as the car’s steady hum and road sounds drowned out the rest of the world.
I stirred as we drove up an off-ramp. Dried spit lined a corner of my mouth. My neck was sore from lying against the door. Megan’s car was a smoother ride than I had first realized, and the pain meds had helped in numbing me to the world. I checked my phone and was surprised to learn we were only thirty minutes out. It was completely dark outside. Carter was asleep too.
“Are you okay?” I asked. “What’s up?”
“I’ll need a pit stop if you’re going to be a while,” Megan said.
“There’s not much out here.”
She pulled over in a vacant gravel lot and got out and walked off into the darkness.
“Where are we?” Carter asked.
“Almost there.”
He stretched. His neck and back popped.
After a couple of minutes Megan returned, pumped some hand sanitizer in her hands from a massive bottle in the cupholder behind her armrest, and got us back on the highway.
“So you’ll give me directions from here?” Megan asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Once you take the exit it’ll be the frontage road for a little while. But I’m having you park further away than we did the last time. Someone fast followed me out of town and I don’t want to risk any of us getting caught.”
“And who are these people exactly?”
“Neighbors that protect Chronos’s identity and keep his house safe. There’s nothing else there. The place is a dead end, so anyone coming into town gets noticed fast.”
Megan navigated us to our exit and soon we were heading down the dark road towards Dogwood. I felt a growing tension in my stomach. My hands were clammy. I took a swig of my energy drink.
“I have a hard time believing you’re the first to find this place,” Megan said.
“There’s no reason to think I am. But judging by how vigilant these people are and how quickly they came out looking for me, they’d catch anyone poking around before they got far.”
“And do what with them?”
“Chronos has kept this place a secret,” Carter said. “What the residents of Dogwood do to people who scratch beneath the surface can’t be good because no one has said anything about seeing Chronos around here, ever. One way or another, this corner of the country is his own private black hole.” He stared out the window into the dark as if there was something to see.
“So we can’t get caught,” I said. “You two are going to stay at the car while I go in.”
“And you plan on just…” Megan began, but it was like she didn’t want to say the word “fly.”
“That’s the plan. Go straight to his house, get inside, and find out what makes him tick.”
I felt a growing rush as we got closer. My head was throbbing, but I ignored it as much as possible. If it was the locket that was doing all this for me, what else could I find to help even the odds? Megan clearly had more questions, but neither Carter nor I had answers, so eventually she grew silent. We found a place to park along a wide, soft shoulder under a willow tree.
Megan took the keys out of the ignition and the car went dark.
“Don’t do anything to attract attention. Foot off the brakes. Try not to use your phone. And don’t come after me. If I’m not back in an hour, I want you to leave.”
I climbed out of the car. The slightly muggy night air still held on to the day’s heat. I could smell the forest nearby and leaves rotting on the ground. The air buzzed with insects. I took a few steps out onto the road. There were no other cars. We hadn’t passed anyone since leaving the highway. We were on another planet.
If what I had planned didn’t work, I was going to look stupid. I took the smallest jump into the air. I stayed up at a low hover and then gently descended. This wasn’t anything I had practiced. I knew a mighty leap in the wrong direction would land me someplace in the middle of the woods or on someone’s property. With so few landmarks and no light, getting lost was a real possibility. Dogwood didn’t have a runway to land on. It made me wonder how Chronos managed to navigate at such high speeds.
Enough stalling. I jumped again and this time I went straight up. Like my quick reflexes, if I didn’t think about flying, it worked. The rush of the steady upward motion was joined by the thrill of seeing the world below me get smaller. Gooseflesh rose on my arms and back. I was shivering from the high breeze, which felt much cooler than the warm air near the ground.
My eyes were adjusting quickly enough. The lights of the highway glowed far behind me. The broken road leading to Dogwood was almost invisible and blacker than the trees around it. At first I wasn’t sure it was there, but then I made out the string of power lines that ran its length. I landed softly enough between some trees. Now I had a direction. My third leap took me higher into the night and sailing straight towards the weird little village and Chronos’s house.
It wasn’t until I was descending that I saw a shadowy figure standing on the roof waiting for me.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Thanks to my enhanced hearing I could hear him breathe even with the air rushing by my face. It was a raspy, congested sound. I quickly realized it was the man who had pursued me after I’d invaded Chronos’s home. The clippers were nowhere in sight but he still wore the ball cap. The rail-thin man was perfectly balanced on the pitch of the roof near the open skylight. But he was facing away from me. In seconds I would be sailing past him in my downward path and I wasn’t able to stop.
Suddenly I was overthinking my flying. My arms windmilled and I started falling.
I bit my lip to not cry out. Forced myself to be calm.
; Gravity is optional, I reminded myself. I was only heading towards the ground because I’d wanted to. And now I didn’t. The junk-filled backyard was closing in on me. And just before I struck the dirt I stopped, inches above the ground. I could no longer see the sentry above me. Had I made any noise? I waited, frozen in midair, until my widespread arms and legs ached from the awkward pose.
Gently I put my feet on the ground. The second-floor window remained wide open. I sprang forward towards it, launching myself upward. I caught the sides of the window frame and swung myself inside in one smooth move. I hovered in the room for a moment, and then to avoid the creaky floor I lit upon the banister. There I balanced and listened.
My hands, feet, and tongue felt like they had electricity running through them. I grew more certain it was because I was inside the big house. The strange place was giving me something, but what I didn’t know.
I heard no sounds from outside. The man on the roof wasn’t following me. But if he was on high alert, perhaps so was the rest of the town. That meant I couldn’t dawdle. I stepped off the banister and floated ever so slowly down. Suddenly, moving through the air was as natural as crawling. And it was a lot more fun. I had to remind myself I was there for a reason. Chronos had to have some weakness I could exploit. And if there were more things like the locket, I wanted them all. The key to sparring with someone bigger than you is to be faster. The persistent ache in my side was a reminder of what Chronos could do even with a near miss. The next time I faced him I needed more than an edge. I had to dominate.
Landing on the foyer floor, I took it all in. The sound of the refrigerator in the kitchen, the smell of mold, the taste of the fetid air. The basement was where Chronos went when he returned home. Perhaps that was where he recharged, bathing in the weird red air like taking hits off some otherworldly oxygen tank.
What if he was down there?
From the kitchen, the ventilation hood light over the stove was on, throwing a dull brown glow. Otherwise it was dark. The door under the stairs was closed. I walked forward, rolling my feet. The air had a heaviness to it that only increased as I pulled the door open. It scraped softly along the carpet but otherwise made no noise when I swung it wide.
Even without setting a foot on the steps to the basement, I felt the pressure build around me. It pushed on my ears and eyes and head. It was as if whatever was down there was bottled up and the door to the basement, and maybe even the house itself, was a giant cork. The sensation of otherworldliness was much worse than the first time I had been there.
I went carefully down the steps.
The red light was brighter, and I still couldn’t tell where it was coming from.
The single bulb still burned. The furniture was all in the same place. Everything looked exactly as it had before, except the racks of clothing I had used as a hiding place were in disorder. It looked like someone had been searching through the coats, as a few of them were on the floor and some hung askew off their hangers.
I pushed open the door to the small room where Chronos had his lounge chair and TV. The cluttered space now reminded me of a jail cell. His mess was still there, along with the empty dish and a drained glass. The stereo was powered down. Nothing in either room looked odd, just old. The stale odor was more pronounced, as if something had long ago putrefied. Maybe it was my ultrasensitive nose and they just had some rat traps that hadn’t been emptied. But something about the air felt completely alien and it was putting me on edge.
Among the stacks of papers on the side table were five knocked-over figurines. They were made of metal, about the size of my pinky, and looked like tiny torpedoes with carved faces and lines running down the sides and back. I picked one up and examined it. Something about touching the metal put my teeth on edge like I was biting aluminum foil.
The simple face of the figurine stared back at me. My fingernail couldn’t scratch the hard material. I picked up another one and compared the two. They were different in height and each face had unique features, with one having round lines on the cheeks, larger eyes, and fuller lips.
I put one into my pocket.
Back out in the first basement room, I went through the armoire and a chest of drawers. More clothing, much of it random, like what you’d find in the costume department of a theater. I also found belts, shoes, eyeglasses, and a few wigs.
There was still one door I hadn’t opened. It was dark in the space beyond and I felt cool air move against my face. But the dead-rat smell was actually worse. I couldn’t find a switch or cord for a light, so I used my phone screen and went forward. There was no flooring past the door, only gravel laid over dirt. I had to duck under several pipes that ran down from the house above. Beyond was a shining sheet of plastic covering something. Blue moonlight shone through one small vent to the outside.
I lifted the sheet and let out a scream.
A mostly decomposed skull stared back at me. Next to it were more bodies, maybe dozens, in various states of decay. Some were skeletons. None looked fresh, yet a few still had muscle and connective tissue and hair fixed to the chalky bones. None had their clothing on.
I was frozen in place. What had I just found here? Who were they? Had Chronos or his neighbors killed these people? I dropped the plastic and resisted the urge to bolt out of there. But I couldn’t bear being down in the cramped crawlspace any longer. I shined the light around to make sure the gravel didn’t hold more bones. Stepping carefully, I began to return to the red room.
Through the closest vent I heard the crunch of someone or something landing hard on vegetation. I stopped and exhaled slowly and tried to keep calm, but my fear kept growing. A shadow outside moved. I couldn’t remember how loud my scream had been, but it must have been loud enough to warn the sentry. He had to know I was there.
I turned my phone screen off, leaving me in darkness. Whoever was outside knelt by the grate and put their face to it. They sniffed the air. Then they sprang to their feet and vanished.
I hurried to get back to the door. My feet caught on one of the pipes. I dropped my phone and took a long second to find it before snatching it back up and putting it into a pocket. Once I made it to the red room, I stopped to listen but heard no sounds coming from upstairs. Had they even seen or heard me?
I crept up one step at a time. Then somewhere above me I heard the hard clunk of someone landing and the sound of footsteps heading for the door above me. I ran forward, grabbed the knob, and closed the door just as someone from the opposite side tried to pull it open. I threw the latch closed. The door shook violently. The metal latch wouldn’t hold for long. But then the shaking stopped. Someone pressed against the door as if leaning on it. Again came the sniffing sound, like they were a dog. I didn’t dare make a sound and found myself holding my breath.
Whoever was on the other side of the door had to know about the moldering corpses. I didn’t want to become one. And as strong as I was feeling, along with my reflexes and new-found flight ability, I couldn’t risk going toe to toe with anyone.
“You’ve come back to us,” a soft voice said.
I took a step down away from the door.
“You’re back, you’re back,” the voice said in a sing-song tone. “Won’t Mother be pleased?”
The door shook as if the man on the other side had forgotten it was locked. A tapping followed, the sound of a fingernail drumming against wood. As I eased myself down the rest of the steps, one creaked. The tapping stopped. Then I heard footsteps moving across the floor, followed by the sliding of wood. The front door was being opened. I looked around frantically, my mind going three different directions. Hide, flee, fight.
None of my options were good.
Suddenly all of the costume clothing hanging in the red room, along with the armoire and chest of drawers full of props and other junk, made sense. This wasn’t backstage at some play but a room full of the possessions that the people of Dogwood had collected from their victims. A mailman, a cop, a surveyor, and other random people
who had come to town to explore, gather signatures, or even had just gotten lost over the decades.
Or perhaps they weren’t random victims who happened to stumble upon the backward hamlet.
Carter had told me the place was a statistical black hole. No one ever reported Chronos near here, and the residents of Dogwood were only part of the equation. What if some of the victims had been eyewitnesses when Chronos flew nearby? Had Chronos killed them out of hand to protect the secret of his home base?
It explained so much, even as the horror of the thought filled me with rage. How did Chronos or his insane neighbors justify such violence?
I grabbed the sleeve to one coat that looked like an army jacket. It looked like desert camos, something worn during the wars with Iraq. Maybe the jacket was a reproduction, but I doubted it. I went to a drawer I hadn’t checked and sifted through it to find a collection of men’s and women’s wallets, a couple of clutch purses, and one revolver in a leather belt holster like what a cop might wear.
I grabbed the revolver and checked it. Three .38 bullets were in the cylinder. I put the weapon in the small of my back before sifting through the rest of the drawer’s contents.
A slightly cracked and dusty rose-colored vinyl wallet with a tiny mirror attached held lipstick and mascara and a driver’s license. The photo showed a bespectacled woman with a toothy smile and done-up red hair under a small green hat. Hazel Magnussen. The license was dated to expire in 1965. A second ID card with no photo told me Hazel was a census taker.
More wallets had driver’s licenses with dates that spanned the decades. Faces old and young, male and female, stared back at me.
My stomach flipped. I made it to the toilet in time to throw up. At least the plumbing worked. I flushed and rinsed my mouth in the sink.
Everything down here was evidence. The basement was a giant crime scene. No one could now deny that Chronos and his scumbag neighbors were evil. But first I had to get out of there.
Blood of the Masked God (Book 1): Red Wrath Page 18