Past, Darkly (The Dreams Book 2)

by Hunter Jones

  We had ridden silently for a few minutes when his body moved and I could sense a change, which was not good. He made a whistle-type sound, another of his many signals, and slowed the horse to a trot. The sky was darkening, thunder rumbled in the distance, and I saw flashes of light on the horizon.

  “Put your arms around me, Maggie Marie, and hold on tight. We’re gonna have to take shelter real quick like,” he whispered over his left shoulder. I nodded in agreement and wrapped my arms around his waist, bringing our bodies closer. The electricity I felt from touching him sent a rush of adrenaline through me and my heart raced wildly in my chest. Can he feel my heart beat? Does he know the physical sensation he causes simply by being this close?

  James tightened the reins and the horse reacted by rising on its back legs. “Stay with me, girl, I am here for you,” he whispered as the winds began to howl around us. The horse lurched forward and we bolted into a grove of trees so lush and tangled I was afraid the horse would stumble on the undergrowth. A shard of lightning struck the ground nearby and the horse trembled. The thunder that followed completely shattered any serenity promised by the morning. Tree limbs and branches grabbed at our clothes, as if to pull us from the path James had chosen. The hounds bayed and moaned as they followed us while the fear engulfed our environment. The violent storm approached quicker than any of the travelers had planned. Livestock was lost as the owners followed pigs and cows and chickens into the trees. Cries of people and animals blended with the storm. In the blink of an eye, shrieks and cries became screams. Three shots rang out, followed by an eerie silence.

  Another flash of light was followed by a rumble, which made the ground shake. The clouds burst open and the storm took control. The horse began to slow as the rainfall became heavier and a torrent blasted us from all sides. A buzzing noise filled the air. At first, I believed the sound was made by a bee or hornet. Suddenly, a pain ripped through my shoulder. I wondered if it was a rock, only to realize that a bullet had lodged in my rotator cuff. The impact hurled my body into James’s torso.

  “Damn,” he whispered. “They’ve shot you, ain’t they?”

  Yes.

  “Let me get you off this horse,” he said.

  The hounds continued to bay somewhere in the thick undergrowth. One of them suddenly yelped in pain.

  “Hell, them sons of bitches have now gone and done shot my damn dog. This is war.”

  “No. No! Keep riding. We can’t let them get you. The risk outweighs the danger,” I responded faintly. Blood trickled down my back. Adrenaline and shock overtook me and the world around me became a haze of surreal sensations and actions. We moved in slow motion as James brought the horse to a halt. He removed the leather strap that bound us and dragged me from the back of the horse. I was so limp I could no longer walk, so I hung like a wet ragdoll in his arms. He made three clicks within his throat and the horse took off at a gallop into the thicket of trees. He whistled and the hounds were no longer nearby. I heard them jump into water and their baying cries disappeared into the distance.

  He picked me up and carried me to an unknown location. I moaned as he pushed me against a tree trunk. The pain from my shoulder was excruciating.

  “By the Grace of God, we will make it through this,” James said softly. The rainfall was so heavy that I imagined even God was wet with rain. His body pressed against me in order to hold me upright. I opened my eyes to see him dabbing the elixir onto one of his kerchiefs. He held the flask to my lips.

  “Drink this, Maggie Marie. Drink it until I tell you to stop,” he gently demanded. “Can you still hear me?”

  Yes, I nodded.

  “Stay with me, girl. You’re going to be okay. I’m here. Now drink.”

  I groaned and took three gulps from the flask. A searing pain ripped through my shoulder. The sensation made my legs buckle from beneath me. I looked into James’s eyes, wondering what happened.

  “It’s a procedure to stop the bleeding. Don’t worry or be concerned. You are going to be fine. Your doctor has done this thousands of times.” He paused, then looked me in the eyes and said, “I’ve placed the kerchief in the wound to contain the bleeding until the bullet can be removed. It’s a minor procedure. The pain comes at first, but it will subside. Now take a few more drinks for me if you can.”

  Horses were coming closer and I couldn’t tell how many. “Where are we hidden?” I asked. Each breath was harder to inhale and the pain in my stomach was excruciating. It was as if James was giving me energy simply by holding me.

  James moved the hair from my ear. “Your hair is much like an exotic lace or fabric. It is sensual to the touch.” Then, he whispered softly, “We are hidden within the crevice of an old oak tree. The tree looks to be split for some time. There are branches and foliage surrounding us.” He kissed my cheek and said, “We had best not say one more word or make any further sound, or it may get us killed.”

  He pressed his body into mine, deep within the crevice of the tree, so close we could feel each other’s heart beat. His arms enfolded me. His every breath danced along my skin, making my setting my senses on fire, which helped me forget the pain momentarily. Three men rode into our thicket. They were unkempt and disheveled.

  “He has to be around here somewhere. It sounded as if the horse and dogs changed direction in this here vicinity,” one man said.

  “You ain’t got no idea where the hell the horse and dogs split. You been drinking nigh on two months straight, Willard. Where did you get the gift of strategy?”

  “Damn it, man. I ain’t been drinking that long. I know this is the area. I didn’t spend all my time in the army rustling up grub the way you did. I understand a thing or two about how to sniff out a trail.”

  The third man said nothing and moved his horse directly in front of us, dismounted, and tied the animal to the tree. He was so close I could smell the whiskey on his breath. He took a pistol from his coat and held it in the air. He aimed and cocked the trigger, shooting into a fallen log. Bark flew from the ancient plant. A mama raccoon with two kittens scampered into the thicket along with a fox. A mourning dove beckoned more rain with its soulful call. The rumble of the storm roared from somewhere in the heavens.

  “Well, ain’t you a sure shot, Leon. You maybe shot a baby raccoon or opossum. If word gets out, them there critters of the varmint population will be plum scared, all the way from Tennessee into Georgia and Alabama,” the man they called Willard said. The other man laughed with him and Leon said nothing. He cocked his pistol and fired into the thicket directly to our left. I felt James wince and it made me wonder if he was shot. He kissed my temple as if to signal that he was unharmed. The kiss reminded me that today’s pain was much more profound than yesterday’s was.

  Three crows cawed and swooped from a low-lying branch nearby. The moisture from their wings glistened in the rain. Surprised by the action, Leon stumbled and fell, his gun firing into the air as he tripped into the muddy red clay of north Georgia.

  Three new riders approached us at a breakneck speed; the rhythm of the hoof beats could be felt before I could see them. As the pair drew closer to us, my heart fell into my stomach and broke into a thousand pieces. The ginger red hair of one rider’s beard was apparent, even from a distance. So was the anger on his face. The other man was black with long, dark hair. His gun was raised in the air as if to shoot first and ask questions later. The third man’s face was covered with a bandana, but his black curls were apparent underneath his hat. His grimace made my blood run cold. He was hell bent for revenge.

  This is it. Today is the day that I die.

  Willard, Leon, and the other man scrambled into the underbrush and disappeared into the brambles of the woods. James whistled and the men on horseback rode toward our location in the tree.

  “We’re here,” James said. The black man was the first to arrive.

  “James, what the hell happened?”

  “The Gatewood Gang found me somehow, Frank. I was thinking we were safe b
ut somebody in the area must’ve let them know I was traveling through. What’s more important is Maggie. This here’s my new wife. We gotta get her some help.”

  Wife?

  Frank turned and cupped his hands, making a sound that was a cross between a click and a whistle. The two other men approached from the woods, their horses crunching the undergrowth beneath their hooves.

  “Rhett, Moz, we’ve got to help James. He’s gone and got himself a wife and she’s been shot by the Gatewoods. Either of you have family or friends in this area? We need to have her checked and then we’ll know if she can make it into Chattanooga.” With that, Frank turned back to us.

  “Can she be moved, James?”

  “Yes,” I whispered to James, who nodded an affirmative to Frank and the other two. Looking down, I saw my own blood covering the blouse I wore, and I fell into a chasm, darkly.

  Atlanta 2016

  Chapter 12

  Maggie

  The sun’s rays flirted with the mirror as the glimmer woke Maggie. What a crazy dream. She reached across the bed for Rhett, but he wasn’t there nor had she heard from him for a month, except for one call. Tears cascaded down her face as she awoke to the day she had dreaded since she last heard from him. She wiped her face and clutched her stomach as her feet touched the floor. She remained seated on the side of the bed for a few minutes and thought about the last few months. Her eyes focused on the words written on the wall of her studio apartment.

  Awaketh not love before it so desires. The words she had written in Hebrew and the saying she believed had finally happened in her own life. She and Rhett had spent the summer together. The love she had always desired had finally manifested, as he told her he loved her and had always loved her. The idyllic summer had evolved into a beautiful autumn in Atlanta and she knew that he was going to ask her to marry him. It was the only wish her heart had ever made.

  Then, he didn’t show up for dinner one night. He didn’t answer calls or texts and Maggie knew that Natasha had returned. Rhett had told Maggie that Natasha was involved with someone in Manhattan, and that they were no longer a couple. Her cryptic messages had led Rhett to believe that she was seeing someone famous, possibly a man in the music business. She had told him they were over and her career was the most important thing in her life. But, as always, Natasha beckoned and Rhett answered her, leaving Maggie to languish in the chasm his absence left in her life.

  When he had called three weeks ago, he explained briefly that Natasha had changed her mind, and that he had too much time invested in their relationship not to give her another chance. Maggie thought about what he said next. “She’s opening for a show at the Fox with the band TASTE. It’s a one-time-only show and she believes it will make her a star. TASTE isn’t even on tour, and they seem to be doing this as a favor for her. The show sold out in five minutes. That’s never happened for a rock event.”

  “So?” Maggie said, trying to hold back the tears. She was walking across the campus at Emory, going to her next class. The leaves drifted by as they fell from the trees. She wished the wind would carry her pain away as easily. But it didn’t.

  Rhett whispered into the phone, “She wants us both to be there. We are all lifelong friends, Maggie. This is huge for her.”

  “For her? Why should I care about what happens to her?” Maggie screamed before she realized what she was saying, a lone tear escaping down her cheek as he broke her heart yet again.

  After a pause in which Maggie heard Rhett tap a pen against a tabletop, he said, “Look, Maggie. I meant everything I told you. I love you and I always will. But Natasha and I have a history and she needs me. Please do this. We’ve all three been friends since we were kids.” She heard him breathe deeply and he continued, “Besides, if we aren’t there, she’ll make our lives a living hell. You know how vindictive she is. Just go to the after party. You don’t have to go with us, or even see the show. Simply be there, even if it’s for a few minutes, and let her have her moment of glory.”

  Maggie couldn’t breathe. She believed she would pass out. Seeing a bench nearby, she made her way to it and sat on the cold concrete before she said anything. This was all Natasha’s revenge. She knew we were happy and now she wants to gloat. This is her way of proving to me that Rhett is her boyfriend, once and for all. The tears fell down her face, landing on her lap.

  “Maggie, Maggie? Are you okay? Please say something,” Rhett whispered in his velvet bass voice.

  She wiped the tears away with her left hand. “I’m fine and I’ll be there. When is it?”

  She heard the sigh of relief from the other end of the phone. “Mark your calendar for the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. The after party starts at 11:00 p.m. in the Grand Salon, which is upstairs, next to the Egyptian Ballroom. I’ll get the pass to you.”

  She paused, not really wanting to let him go, yet knowing she had to do it. “That’s great, Rhett. Send it to my email or text it to me. I’ve got to get to my next class.”

  The pause on the line let her know that Rhett felt the same as she did. “Thank you, Maggie. This means a lot to me.” She heard his voice tremble as he continued, “I can’t wait to see you.”

  “I’ve got to go, Rhett. This call is over.” With that, she clicked the phone, feeling as if her heart would never recover, and knowing her body would never forget the way he felt when they were lying in bed together. No one should ever feel that good. It was more like an addiction and she would never be cured of him. She simply had to endure the absence of him and accept it.

  By the next morning, Maggie knew what she had to do. First, she called Salon Vis a Vis and booked a cut and color. By the end of the day, she had a platinum-blonde bob. She knew Natasha would dress in black – it was her trademark, at least when she did wear clothes. Maggie knew from pictures that she now had long black extensions, and Maggie was determined to be the diametrical opposite of her.

  She called Neiman Marcus and booked an appointment on Sunday with Paul, her favorite stylist. Explaining the event to him and giving him the date she needed everything, he asked, “Do you want me to get some of our latest looks together for you? Something edgy, maybe?”

  “No. I want to be a princess. Let’s look at Chanel and Dior, and go for a Kate Middleton or Princess Diana look,” Maggie told him. She left the store that afternoon with a made-to-order Chanel outfit scheduled to arrive one week before the event. She bought two pairs of Louboutin shoes, in case she couldn’t make up her mind the day of the show. And Bergdorf’s in Manhattan was sending a cherry red Lady Dior bag to her, the last one to be found in the US. She knew Natasha would look like a rock tramp, but Maggie planned on stealing the show. It might be the last time she would see Rhett for a while, and she wanted to make him regret his decision to leave her for Natasha.

  She looked at her clothes, which she had pressed and arranged last night. Rubbing her eyes, she thought about last night’s dream. What a crazy trip that was. I haven’t been to the Chickamauga Battlefield for years. Maybe the wine she drank, along with half a Valium, had something to do with it. She admired her freshly polished nails from yesterday’s mani-pedi, stood, and stretched.

  Looking into her heirloom mirror, she smiled and said aloud, “It’s on, baby. Natasha may think it’s her night, but by God, it’s going to be mine!”

  She padded into her tiny kitchen and waited for the coffee to brew, the aroma filling the small apartment. With the day off from work, she could take a little time to read before going to work out. In the few weeks Rhett had been gone, she had lost ten pounds and had decided to make the best of a bad situation by exercising almost daily. It gave her something to do to fill in the time, and beat spending time feeling lonely and sorry for herself.

  With the coffee finished, she filled a mug and walked to her couch, picking up a history book she had just received from a writer in the UK. She saw that he had signed it, just as she requested when the book was ordered from his website. There are still nice people in the world. She
looked at the clock. Her hair and make-up appointment was at 5:00 p.m. She had all day to do whatever she wanted before the party started. She had decided to arrive around 11:15 p.m. in order to let Natasha be the center of attention. By getting there late, it would put Rhett on edge and give her “fashionably late” appearance an advantage.

  As she flipped open the new book, Maggie thought, Dreams do come true and tonight I will slay. This is my fairy tale and I’m going to make it Natasha’s nightmare. She has walked over me our entire lives, and I’ve always been the nice one. Maybe I’ve allowed her to do it, but those days are over. I’ve never been vindictive, and she may have Rhett, but there is no way I am going to let that little whore believe she has me beat. I may be coming home alone, but I am going to look like anything but a loser.

  With that, she placed the coffee mug on the table next to the couch, brushed her hair back from her eyes, and began to read.

  Chapter 13

  James

  The turbulence of the plane landing woke James from a severe hangover and an even stranger dream. Oh dear God, I have to see that weird Natasha girl tonight. Frank had worked everything out in advance. James would stay for the after party, then fly back to Manhattan. A car had been arranged to pick him up at the Fox Theatre at 1:00 a.m. That way, he could escape her. Just thinking about her gave him the creeps. Why did I ever mess with her?

  He raised the blind to look at the airport and tried to remember if TASTE had ever played Atlanta. He remembered something about Tennessee or Georgia from when he was a small child, but the names of the states and his grandparents were all he could recall. And her. Those blue eyes had haunted him his entire life. On the road, every city seemed the same. He thought back over the past few months as the jet touched the runway. Once he and Frank arrived in New York, they lived in Chelsea in a multi-level townhouse Frank had rented for them. There was even a separate building behind the main house that James used as a studio.