Satan's Breath

by Temple Madison

  Satan’s Breath

  By Temple Madison

  Published by JMS Books LLC

  Visit jms-books.com for more information.

  Copyright 2017 Temple Madison

  ISBN 9781634864978

  Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

  Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

  All rights reserved.

  WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

  This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published in the United States of America.

  NOTE: This book was previously published as Dirty Little Steam Queen by Audrey Godwin.

  * * * *

  Satan’s Breath

  By Temple Madison

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Prologue

  A sinister light flashed in the darkness, glinting from a steel blade that dripped with blood. The large instrument trembled in the hand of a fourteen-year-old girl, her body feverish, her jaw rigid, her gaze distant and unseeing. A pungent odor rose on the mid-summer heat, making the night ripe with the stench of death. As she stood perfectly still, the silence gave way to Satan’s Breath, a rogue wind making a haunting sound as it blew through the cracks of a broken windowpane.

  Suddenly, a woman burst into the room and ran past the tattered curtain that served as a door. “Oh, God, no!” came her garbled cry when she saw the bloody knife, and the dead eyes that impaled her with their steady gaze. She grabbed the young girl who stood over the body, frozen to the spot.

  “Blaze,” the woman whispered, the fear and strain in her voice pushing her dangerously close to the edge. “G-Give, give me the k-knife, darlin’.”

  The gentle prodding of her words, the soft, patient sound of her voice tenderly worked its way through the maze of the girl’s subconscious. Slowly, her vacant, glassy gaze moved toward the knife clasped in her hand, and confusion etched her face as she focused on the slowly dripping blood.

  All at once her face contorted in terror and a maniacal scream ripped from her throat.

  She dropped the hated weapon and her aunt lunged toward her, cradling the girl to her breast. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay,” she whispered, rocking her gently in her arms.

  “Get off me!” the girl suddenly screamed. “Get off!”

  “Blaze, no!” her aunt called out. “It’s me, baby, it’s Aunt Rachel.” When the girl continued to struggle, her aunt grabbed her head and firmly turned it toward her. “Look at me, Blaze, it’s Aunt Rachel!”

  Finally coming out of her stupor, the girl’s cloudy eyes cleared and she fell in the woman’s arms, convulsing with sobs.

  The woman held her tight, rocking her back and forth. “It’s okay, baby. He’s gone, dead. He won’t bother you anymore.” With Blaze’s face buried against her aunt’s shoulder, the woman angled her gaze down at the bloody scene, and her face crumpled in a tragic frown, but she could find no pity for him. “The bastard had it comin’,” she whispered into the girl’s hair. “I shoulda done it myself long ago.”

  “Oh, God, Aunt Rachel,” Blaze sobbed as she looked up at her. “I-I didn’t know. What’s gonna happen now? Will I go to jail?”

  Her aunt churned out a gritty chuckle. “Jail? A little thing like you?” Her eyes became dark with determination. “Not if I have anything to do with it, you won’t. You did us both a favor. He was askin’ for it, the bastard.”

  She continued to cradle the girl, letting her cry while she made plans. Finally knowing what she had to do, she pushed her away and grabbed the tops of her arms. “Blaze! Blaze!” she yelled, shaking her. “You’re gonna have to be a big girl, you hear? Stop that cryin’ and do everything I tell you.”

  Blaze nodded, struggling to hold the sobs in as she wiped at her wet face.

  “Thank God we live so far away from town,” the woman said as she pushed Blaze aside and went to the window. “It’s darker’n the inside of a grave out there.” She glanced back at the girl. “That’s good. Means no one’ll see us.”

  Blaze stared at her aunt with a pleading gaze, her sobs finally bursting through. “I didn’t mean to, Aunt Rachel. I…I don’t even remember—”

  “I know you didn’t, baby,” the woman reassured her as she began to pace. With her thoughts tumbling around in her head, she raked her gaze over the back yard. “The dirt’s hard,” she muttered. “I’d never be able to dig down into it.”

  She saw the well.

  “It’s dry,” she whispered to herself. “Hasn’t been used in years. Nothin’ in there but spiders, snakes, and no tellin’ what else.”

  Still thinking, she turned and gazed at the corpse. Finally making up her mind, she moved quickly as she crossed the room and began rolling the dead body up in a bed sheet. When she had it secure, she firmly grasped one end and told Blaze to take hold of the other.

  Between the two of them, they pulled the heavy body across the plank floor, then out into the yard, leaving a destructive trail of bloody weeds and grass in their wake.

  “God, this bastard’s heavy.” Rachel grunted and groaned until she finally had him slumped over the well’s edge. Hesitating only long enough to take a breath and wipe her brow, she then heaved the lower part of his body up and toppled him over. He fell with a thud into just enough water to make a subdued splash.

  The woman’s piercing gaze quickly darted around while trying to cover up the telltale blood, and herd Blaze back into the house. She immediately helped her change clothes, and then led her to the other bedroom. She opened a closet and pulled out an old brown suitcase that was tearing at the seams. She filled it, then tied it with a rope, praying it would stay together long enough for the girl to get where she was going.

  Lugging it along with her, she turned and led Blaze into the living room where she crouched on the floor and carefully removed a loose plank from beneath a tattered old rug. She reached in and picked up a stack of bills that were covered with dust. She gave the bills a quick shake, grabbed Blaze’s hand, opened it, and pushed the money into it. Closing her hand over Blaze’s fist in a firm grasp, she urged, “There’s near on three hunnert dollars there. You keep it in a safe place, you hear? I don’t know how far it’ll take you, but—” Suddenly, her words stopped, and her eyes blazed. “—don’t you let nobody take it away from you, gal. You understand?”

  “Sure, but—”

  When she heard the girl
’s promise, she gave her hands one last squeeze, then crossed to the heavy bag, picked it up, and firmly pushed it into Blaze’s arms. “Now you get outta here!” She pushed her toward the door. “Get as far away from this place as you can, and don’t you ever come back.”

  “No, Aunt Rachel,” Blaze sobbed, struggling, “don’t make me leave, please. I’m sorry I—”

  “Don’t fight me, child!” Rachel scolded while grabbing her shoulders and shaking her angrily. “You have to leave now. It’s only a matter of time before they find out you killed your uncle Ralph and they’ll come lookin’ for you. I don’t intend to set around here waitin’ for them to put you in jail, or take you to some detention home, or whatever the hell they do with kids your age.”

  “Then come with me, Aunt Rachel, please!” Blaze pleaded.

  She gave Blaze a sad smile. “I can’t, darlin’. It’s too late for me, but not for you. You go out there and give ‘em hell, hear? And don’t worry ‘bout me. I’ll be fine.”

  “Please don’t be mad at me, Aunt Rachel,” Blaze begged, her tears choking her. “He…I couldn’t—”

  Compassion filled the woman as she pulled the girl to her breast. “Honey, I ain’t mad at you for what you did. Hell, you oughtta be gettin’ a medal instead of runnin’ for your life.” She tenderly smoothed Blaze’s thick, red, flyaway hair, her trembling lips trying to smile. “Now you straighten up that pretty face of yours and go out there and show ‘em what you’re made of, okay? Besides, what’s done is done, and this is just the way it has to be, understand? There ain’t no other answer.”

  “Aunt Rachel,” Blaze began hesitantly, “you’re gonna tell ‘em you did it, ain’t you?”

  The woman’s harsh, sun-roughened face softened. “Me? Hell no. Oh, sure, I thought about it, but what good would it do? None,” she spat, “that’s what. You know how them wise-assed cops are. They got their ways, and they’d get the truth outta me sooner or later. Well, I ain’t gonna give ‘em the chance, see! And I ain’t gonna sit here and see them haul a pretty little thing like you off to some kind of home where another bastard sits waitin’ with no good on his mind. No,” she hissed, “it wouldn’t work. Besides,” she said, wiping her sweaty palms on her dress while she turned away from Blaze’s intense gaze, “I…I got somethin’ else in mind.”

  When Blaze didn’t move, she grabbed the girl, turned her resisting body around, and pushed her the rest of the way to the door, and opened it. “Now go,” she ordered, “forget this place ever existed!”

  Pushing her out into the darkness, she slammed the door hard, locked it, and leaned back against it for a moment, listening to Blaze’s frightened sobs. Rachel’s face crumpled, a rush of helpless tears flooding her eyes when she heard the girl banging on the door, and yelling.

  “Go, child,” she rasped, her voice lifting in a desperate growl. “Go! Satan’s Breath is not for you, baby. Get as far away from this hell hole as you can.”

  While the cries continued, the woman turned her head toward the gaping hole in the floor and her gaze anchored on the black cloth that was wrapped around an object that had sunk low within the shadowed cavity. Her heart thundered within her chest when she was reminded of what she had to do.

  * * * *

  Blaze continued to call out, her sobs choking off her words. Finally growing tired, she slid down the old door, shards of peeling paint biting into her skin. She’d been sitting there for only a few minutes when she heard a loud blast, causing her to jerk as if she’d been struck by lightning.

  Terror such as she’d never known filled her.

  She jumped up and pulled and tugged on the door, trying desperately to turn the knob, but it was locked against her.

  “Aunt Rachel!” she yelled, banging on the door until her hands began to throb with pain. She quickly moved to a window, and struggled to see through the glass that was dim both with age, and a thin layer of red Georgia dirt.

  “Oh, God!” she screamed when she saw her aunt lying in a pool of blood on the floor, and a gun lying at her side. Her little face immediately screwed up in pain as she sank slowly to her knees, crying uncontrollably. She could feel a biting anger rising inside her causing her to scream and kick, and bang hysterically at the old tarpaper shack until she became exhausted. With no fight left in her, she hung her head and hid her face in her hands until she realized something had changed, and looked up.

  Satan’s Breath had stopped blowing.

  It was as if the whole world was dead.

  Like a tomb.

  Her frightened gaze darted around at the early morning scene that was draped in the blackest shadows she had ever known. The rustle of the trees had stopped, and where was the constant drone of insects, or the skittering of squirrels? She began shaking, cold fear mounting inside her. How she ached for her Aunt Rachel’s soft arms to lie in, and her soothing voice telling her everything was going to be all right.

  But she had no one, only the dead of night.

  Slowly, she pulled herself up, realizing for the first time that there was nothing here for her anymore. She needed to leave the dirt roads behind, and go to where the streets swarmed with people. People to talk to, and be with. She picked up her ragged suitcase, lugging it heavily at her side, and began walking. As she put one foot in front of the other, the ugly little house she had known all her life dropped into the background, and the train station loomed into view.

  The empty ticket house and vacant platform looked dark and haunting. The shabby little sign that read Piney Grove rocked in the wind, clinking eerily as it hung from a thick post extending from the front roof of the small building.

  Piney Grove was a little ramshackle town hiding among a thicket of pines in the backwoods of Georgia, not even a dot on the map. It was known for a scorching wind that blew so hot they called it Satan’s Breath. They said it came right up out of hell, getting trapped in the trees and gullies with nowhere to go. The legend was, when Satan’s Breath blew its hottest, there was tragedy in its wake. Tonight, the wind whistled and moaned, its touch almost singeing her skin.

  And two bodies lay dead.

  Even though Blaze was already fourteen, she had never had a pair of shoes on her feet, and had never even seen a paved street. Now, as she looked down these lonely railroad tracks that twisted like a long snake into the distance, she felt frightened at the strange new world that awaited her. She curled up on a bench for the rest of the night, huddling until the early morning darkness slowly gave way to an eerie gray ash. She felt as if her eyes had just fluttered to a close when she jumped, feeling a hand on her arm. Looking up, she saw an old, wrinkled face looking down at her.

  “You lookin’ to catch the train, miss?”

  “Y-Yes,” Blaze said nervously, quickly sitting up.

  “Better come with me, then,” he said while taking a set of clinking keys from his pocket to open the door. “Got money?” he asked, shuffling inside and taking his place behind the ticket counter.

  “Yessir, I got near…” Suddenly, her mouth snapped shut when she remembered what her aunt had told her about being careful with her money. “I…I got money…well…a little.”

  “Where ya goin’?”

  The simple question caused turmoil in her mind at first, but after a slight hesitation, she looked up at him with a wistful look on her face. “Somewhere they ain’t no dirt roads.”

  The old man narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. “Runnin’ away?”

  “Ain’t none o’ yo’ business,” Blaze said, lifting her chin in a haughty fashion.

  “Ain’t, huh? How ‘bout Californy? Fur ride from here, but ye’re young.”

  Blaze’s eyes widened, a tiny smile stretching her lips. “Californy,” she whispered softly, then looked back at the old man. “It must cost a…”

  “Ya got money, ain’t ya? How much ya got?”

  Blaze looked at him and hesitated, her actions guarded.

  “Girlie, I gotta know if you got enough. Now, how much is it?”


  “N-Near on…near on three hunnert,” she said finally.

  “One way?”

  “If’en you mean I ain’t comin’ back…yeah.”

  “It’ll be enough. Just count out—”

  Blaze felt a streak of fear. “I can’t count.”

  The man extended his hands with an audible sigh and an aggravated look on his face. “Give it to me,” he said with a snap to his words.

  Blaze frowned. “No!”

  “Look, somebody’s gotta count out the fare, or you ain’t goin’ nowhere. Hurry up now, the train’s due in five minutes.”

  Suddenly Blaze caught the sound of a far off whistle, and turned away slightly while she removed it from the pouch inside her dress. At last having it in her trembling hands, she extended it hesitantly. She watched his lips move while he shuffled the bills and mumbled out a bunch of numbers. She looked relieved when he pushed a few bills back at her along with a ticket. She looked up at him, hope shining in her eyes. “I can go to Californy now?”

  “You can if’en you git on the train.” He pointed toward the door. “Jest take a seat. The train’ll be comin’ ‘round Rooster’s Bend any minute now.”

  “How do I know if it’s the right one?”

  The man stopped what he was doing and looked at her. “They ain’t but one, gal. Now you git on it when it gits here, ‘cause that bench out there ain’t goin’ nowhere.” He watched her as she turned away, then shook his head and chuckled.

  Looking down at the fistful of cash she still had, she felt better as she headed for the door. Just before she went through, her gaze darted around as if she were afraid someone was watching. Noticing that the station was vacant except for her, she quickly pushed the remaining cash down into the ragged little pouch her aunt Rachel always sewed on the inside of her dresses when she carried money. A few minutes later, she blinked her eyes in wonder when the blustering monster that was about to swallow her up chugged into the station. She waited while a couple of people got off, then walked up to the conductor. “This train goin’ to Californy?”