Crone’s Moon argi-5

by M. R. Sellars

  Before I could go on to recap the preternatural conversation, the driver’s door of the van opened with a pop and a groan. A moment later, Ben climbed back into his seat and pulled the door shut.

  “Okay, looks like we’ve got a farmhouse about fifty or so yards off the road,” he told us. “Lights are on, but that’s all I can really see at this distance.”

  “Nothing else?” Constance asked.

  “Nada.”

  “So where does that leave us?” I asked.

  “Pretty much nowhere,” Ben replied.

  “There’s nothing we can do?”

  “Legally, no.”

  “But if Kimberly is in there…” Felicity started, urgency now fueling her.

  He cut her off. “That’s the problem. We got no way to know if she’s actually on the property.”

  “But, can’t you…”

  “No,” he interrupted her again. “I can’t.”

  “Dammit, you don’t even know what I was going to say,” she spat.

  “Doesn’t matter,” he snapped back at her. “We’re between a rock and a hard place.”

  “Felicity, he’s right,” Constance offered. “We need reasonable cause to enter the property. We can’t just kick the door in like they do on TV.”

  “I thought you could enter if you had a suspicion that someone’s life was in danger,” I said.

  “We can,” she replied. “But we don’t have that, not a reasonably explicable one anyway.”

  “Well, can’t you call someone and get a search warrant or something?” my wife appealed.

  “Again, based on what?” Ben asked, turning in his seat to look back at her. Then he added, “Like I’ve told ya’ before, the Twilight Zone stuff ain’t gonna cut it.”

  “If I remember correctly, you’re the one who asked us to help this time,” she snipped.

  “Yes I did,” he returned. “And I’d freakin’ do it again.”

  “Then listen to me!”

  “I am, but what happens if we get in there and they’ve moved her?”

  “They haven’t.”

  “You got physical proof?”

  “I know they haven’t.”

  “I wish that was good enough, but it ain’t. Look, we just gotta be sure we can make it stick, okay?” he explained.

  “Then what do we do?” I asked.

  Ben puffed his cheeks and blew out a hard breath. “We try ta’ figure out a valid reason for entering the premises.”

  “We could try ‘consent once removed’,” Constance offered.

  “Entry by deception?” Ben queried.

  She nodded. “It’s weak, but it might fly.”

  “Weak ain’t the word for it. We’re not officially workin’ this case,” he argued. “Prosecutor is gonna want to know why we did it.”

  “Hey, it didn’t start out that way. We have car trouble,” she replied. “It’s a true story. I go knock on the door and ask to use the phone. I get in, look around, and we go from there.”

  “Yeah, besides the fact that you’d be lyin’, even if you gain entry, what are the odds you’re gonna see anything that’ll get us anywhere? Felicity… Kimberly… Crap… Well, whoever it was said she was in the basement.”

  “Maybe I’ll hear something.”

  “Jeez, Mandalay, that’s stretchin’ it. If you…”

  Ben’s sentence was interrupted by Felicity as she suddenly let out a sharp yelp. We all turned quickly to see her tensing as she gritted her teeth. However, before any of us could say a word, there came a startling pair of sharp raps on the driver-side window.

  CHAPTER 40:

  Apparently, the hiatus was over.

  Felicity groaned as she entered into a new round of ethereal torture. For the moment, it seemed no worse than it had when we first began this expedition, which at least made it tolerable. However, I suspected it wouldn’t stay that way for long, and that was not something I was willing to let happen. I simply wasn’t going to sit by and watch her suffer through this again, especially when we were this close.

  Ben twisted his body back around and began cranking down the window. A fresh gust of cool night air swept inward, this time bringing with it the distinct smell of a burning cigar riding along the chill.

  There was a brief spate of silence, and in that moment, the van filled with a disturbing unrest. The feeling struck me hard, actually competing with Felicity for my attention.

  “Are you folks okay,” a husky voice finally asked. The timbre sounded odd and not quite identifiable in gender. I immediately flashed on Kimberly’s reference to ‘the dyke’ and wondered if one of her tormentor’s was standing only a few feet away at this very moment.

  I tried to see around my friend, but in the darkness, caught only the orange end of the cigar as it glowed briefly then disappeared from view. I felt a stab of pain in my cheek and knew immediately that my fleeting thought was confirmed.

  “Yeah,” Ben replied with a quick nod. “We’re fine.”

  There was a barely perceptible but very distinct change in my friend’s mood as soon as he began talking to the person. It wasn’t something I could audibly detect in his voice, but I could definitely feel it emanating from him. It would probably have gone unnoticed but for the chaotic energy coming from outside the window. All of my senses were triggering- both natural and supernatural.

  The voice came again, “Heard you skidding all the way back up at the house.”

  “Yeah. Saw somethin’ in the road and swerved.”

  “Probably a dog. We get a few strays around here. Lucky all you did was skid. Could have been worse.”

  “Yeah,” Ben agreed. “Lucky.”

  “Do you need a hand?” the voice asked with a tone that sounded more annoyed than concerned.

  “Nah,” Ben replied, shaking his head. “I think we’ve got it under control.”

  “Are you sure? You’ve been sitting here for a while,” the voice observed.

  “Yeah, I know…”

  Ben was interrupted as Felicity let out another sudden yelp. This time it morphed into a quiet but prolonged whine. I looked back at her and saw that she was leaning forward in the seat with her arms crossed.

  “She okay?” Ben instantly called back to me, voice flat.

  This time his tone was an obvious cue. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I simply replied with, “Yeah. She’s fine.”

  “Good” came his equally emotionless reply.

  “What was that?” the voice asked.

  “A friend,” he said. “She wasn’t wearin’ her seatbelt, so she got knocked around a bit.”

  “She doesn’t sound good.”

  “She’ll be fine.”

  There was a tense silence for a moment, and then the voice spoke again, “Sure you don’t need a hand?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “Okay then.” There was another pause before I heard the less than sincere words “Be careful.”

  “Thanks.”

  I heard footsteps as the owner of the genderless voice began walking away. Ben was already cranking the window upward and had his head cocked so that he could watch the side-view mirror. I leaned farther forward and tried to see what he was looking at.

  He held out his hand to Mandalay and made a quick gesture then glanced over to her and whispered, “You clear over there?”

  Constance shot a glance out her window then shook her head and returned quietly. “No. I don’t think so.”

  “Shit!” he muttered.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, dropping my voice to a whisper as well.

  “I’m pretty sure she’s the one on the surveillance tape,” he said as he continued watching the mirrors, then after a moment, he levered the van into reverse and gunned the engine.

  There was a momentary hesitation as the tires spun then took hold. The vehicle gave a slight buck and then jumped backward, rocking with a creak and groan as it rolled back up onto the highway.

  “Nooooo!” Felicity whined, and th
en asked in a pained voice. “Wh-what are you doing?”

  “Gotta move,” my friend announced.

  My wife continued pleading, “But, Kimberly…”

  “…Is in there. I know,” Ben hissed, cutting her off. He kept the van slowly rolling backward then came to a stop. “Mandalay, can you see ‘er?”

  “Not really… Wait… Yeah, there she is. About twenty feet up the driveway. She just looked back. Okay, now she’s moving again.”

  “Can you see if she’s armed?”

  “…Something on her belt… Could be a cell phone… Not sure.”

  “You call it. Whaddaya wanna do?” he asked quickly.

  “It’s not good,” she replied, shaking her head again. “Go around and we’ll call for backup.”

  “No!” Felicity demanded. Her voice was still holding a pained edge but had grown far beyond a whimper.

  “Not with you and Rowan in the van!” Ben hissed. “It’s too dangerous!”

  “Nooooo!” Felicity cried out again, but this time she was moving.

  I felt a hard thump as she swivel-hipped out of the seat, striking purposely against my back and driving me off balance. I pitched forward and fell between the front seats and into the center console. A split second later I felt her sneakered feet stumbling over the backs of my legs.

  Ben suddenly exclaimed, “Goddammit, Felicity! NO!”

  But he was too late. The next thing I heard was the grating sound of the van’s side door as it began to quickly slide. I twisted to grab for my wife, but she was too far out of my reach. The door continued moving by sheer momentum, as she shot through the second she could fit. It locked back in the open position with an angry thump that I could barely hear over Felicity’s impromptu war cry.

  “TU SAIGH!” My wife spewed forth a hateful sounding line of Gaelic. “ Umarlaid! Nach bu tu an t-urra isg!”

  Constance immediately kicked her door wide and bolted from the van in pursuit of the red-haired banshee. I was just pushing myself back up from the console as Ben levered the van into park, yelling back to me, “Stay here!”

  He jumped out of his own door, and I heard the commotion grow outside.

  “STOP! Federal Officer!” Constance was screaming.

  “POLICE!” Ben bellowed behind her.

  Their official demands were underscored by Felicity as she continued to wail, “Tu saigh! Teasd!”

  This time I recognized all three of the Gaelic words, ‘you’, ‘bitch’, and ‘die’.

  I scrambled toward the open side door and rolled out onto the pavement, pushing myself up and forward the moment my feet hit the asphalt. I knew I should follow Ben’s instruction and stay with the vehicle, but I couldn’t keep my legs from driving me along behind them.

  The odd angle of the van at the mouth of the driveway allowed at least some of the light from the headlamps to project up the gravel expanse. In the furthest reaches of the diminishing luminance, I saw a tangle of fiery auburn curls flash as my wife literally tackled the woman.

  The suspect had had enough time to turn and see the screaming redhead running at her, especially since stealth had been a non-issue for Felicity. Still, even though she took a hard swing at her, my wife was short enough to duck it as she came in low and drove the woman to the ground, tumbling to the gravel with her.

  Felicity was still shrieking, her voice a hoarse blend of unintelligible epithets and unearthly tortured sounds. She had landed on top, but the larger woman was fighting back immediately. She already had a handful of my wife’s hair and was yanking her head back hard as she struggled to get away. Felicity responded by releasing her grip around the suspect’s waist and flailing her arms out, impacting the heel of her fist hard against the woman’s chin.

  Ben and Constance were rapidly approaching them, with me bringing up the rear. I wanted desperately to jump into the fray and rescue Felicity, but logically, I knew that was the last thing I should do. I simply remained out of the way behind my two gun-wielding friends and fought to keep myself from responding to the gut reflex that was demanding I take action.

  The woman was stunned by Felicity’s blow but still managed to swing her own fist, glancing her knuckles against my wife’s upper cheek. Felicity’s head snapped, and she fell back. She was no longer on top of the woman, but she remained undeterred by the punch. She continued scrambling about and flailing her fists as the woman pulled her by the auburn mane.

  My wife twisted, pulling up to her knees and forcing her shoulder up from beneath. With a quick lunge, she fell forward and drove her elbow hard into the woman’s side as she was rolling toward her and trying to gain footing.

  Before any more blows could be thrown, Ben and Constance were upon them, weapons drawn.

  “POLICE! STAY DOWN!” my friend bellowed.

  The woman rolled back and held her free hand out in plain view. Felicity continued to punch, and the suspect threw her arm back up to protect herself from the unbridled attack. Mandalay took up a cover stance, and Ben quickly holstered his weapon then skirted around to pull Felicity off the woman.

  I watched as he wrapped a large hand around the suspect’s wrist and bent it back, breaking her grip on my wife’s hair. My friend immediately took Felicity by the arms and started pulling her up. The woman tried to take a last swing at her, and Constance moved in closer, screaming, “STOP!”

  My wife wasn’t listening either.

  She was still screaming at the top of her lungs, spewing Gaelic curses, mixed with colloquial Irish, and even a spate of English profanities. Ben was yelling at her to calm down as she struggled, still trying to swing. He managed to get her up to her feet, but before he could back away, Felicity bucked, using him for leverage as she kicked her leg out and brought the back of her sneaker hard into the prone woman’s chest.

  She was already swinging her other leg around, taking a second kick and aiming for the suspects face when my friend wrapped her in a bear hug and jerked her away. My wife continued twisting in his arms, kicking her legs against him and screaming as he carried her to the side.

  Seeing that Ben had Felicity somewhat under control, Constance immediately stepped in between them, Sig Sauer stiffly aimed at the suspect on the ground.

  “On your stomach! Nose to the ground!” Mandalay yelled to be heard over the continuing commotion. “NOW! Let’s go!”

  The woman was still trying to catch her breath after the kick Felicity had landed into her chest. Still, she did as she was told, rolling slowly over.

  “Extend your arms to your sides, palms upward,” Constance directed.

  I took a moment to look off to the side. Felicity was face down on the grass herself. She was still screaming, but her curses were now directed at Ben as he held her down and applied handcuffs to her dainty wrists.

  The scene was surreal. The darkness surrounded us, with only the distant light of the van’s headlamps casting any illumination whatsoever. Wherever their dimness fell, oblique shadows were moving in angry, stilted motions. There was something very disconcerting about the whole thing, and I knew there was more to it than just what I could see in the physical plane. As I stared at the tableau, I began to get a very bad feeling.

  I shook off the sensation and started toward my wife. I could hear Constance behind me, barking orders to the suspect. “Spread your legs, toes pointed out.”

  Ben had finished restraining Felicity, and he turned away from her, stepping past me without even acknowledging my presence. He now had his weapon back in hand and stiffly aimed forward at the suspect.

  I glanced over at them and saw him give Constance a quick nod. She re-holstered her weapon and then quickly reached beneath her jacket and produced a pair of handcuffs. She moved in swiftly, lowering herself down and placing her knee in the suspect’s upper back.

  “Left hand in the small of your back, palm down,” she ordered. “Now.”

  The suspect complied, and in a deft motion, Mandalay slapped the metal restraint around the woman’s wrist.
r />   I turned and kept stumbling toward my wife who had ceased her screaming but was still cursing at Ben in at least one language. Without warning, she suddenly stopped and turned her face toward me. I was still a few steps away, but I halted dead in my tracks as our gazes locked. There was no mistaking the intensity of the fear I saw in her face, and a second later I heard the rushing buzz of electricity in my ears. She didn’t have to say a word for me to know that she was hearing it too.

  The hair on the back of my neck began to rise and was followed by the follicles along my arms rotating upward as well.

  I started toward Felicity but then hesitated. Something unseen drew my eyes away, and I looked up at the lights of the house farther up the gravel driveway. Behind the ethereal crackle there was another sound. Muffled, but distinctly there. It had most likely been there the entire time but had remained unnoticed in all the commotion. I concentrated, listening as hard as I could and realized that it was a small gasoline engine droning along.

  I stared into the distance, trying to pin significance on the newly identified sound. Somewhere in the back of my head, I was being told that it was supposed to mean something. But, that meaning was eluding me.

  I turned back to my wife, and her eyes were wide with the rampant fear. As I started to take another step, her face suddenly contorted into a pained grimace, and her body stiffened.

  All at once, Ben and Constance started yelling. I heard them, but I really wasn’t paying attention, so it took a moment for me to realize that their shouts were directed at me.

  I didn’t really understand what they were saying, and I didn’t have time to find out because I was running as fast as I could directly toward the farmhouse.

  CHAPTER 41:

  Four months had passed since I had even seen Brittany Larson’s autopsy report, but here I was running through the darkness, speeding toward The Ancients only knew what, and that document was the reason. It had suddenly become as clear in my mind as if I had only just read it. And, of all the horrors it outlined, the one that came immediately to the forefront was the cause of death: suffocation.