Black Moon Rising

by Ann Simas

  Luca captured her hand on the table top, giving it a squeeze.

  “Libby admitted to me that she experiences something similar, only what happens to her doesn’t present as a vision. It comes in words.”

  Bebe uttered a soft moan.

  “It’s okay, Mom,” Libby said from her seat beside Trey, who was studying her with an expression Sunny couldn’t read.

  Sunny soldiered on. “Suffice it to say, Libby doesn’t like what happens to her any more than I’m crazy about what I experience, but while reading Zach’s letters aloud to her and Angie, Libby had some moments of utterance that I believe are related to my visions.” She glanced down at her notes and read what her sister had said.

  “Oh, dear God,” Bebe cried, paling.

  Harry scooted his chair closer and slipped an arm over her shoulders.

  “Lambs and slaughter seem self-explanatory, if you consider I’m having visions of my children being kidnapped. However, I did spend some time researching blue moon, black moon, and February twenty-eighteen. I discovered that there will be two moons in January of twenty-eighteen, which, as you may know, means that the second moon of the month is called a blue moon. When that happens, it results in no moon for February, and that so-called invisible moon is referred to as a dark moon or black moon. Obviously, we still have moon rise every day, but the moon won’t be reflecting any light off the sun, so we won’t notice it up there.”

  “Are you trying to say that Zach’s parents believed the world was going to end because of a black moon rising?” Trey asked.

  “Yes.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. Blue moons just aren’t that uncommon.”

  “No, but according to the astronomy websites I looked at, the two full moons, which will occur on January second and thirty-first, will be the only supermoons that year, which is unusual.”

  Darren scooted back his chair and said to Trey, “You have to remember that most cults are based on gibberish and ill-conceived notions. These people aren’t logical-thinking individuals, or they wouldn’t believe that two supermoons in a month signify the end of the world is coming.”

  “We’re getting off track,” Luca intervened. “What does this black moon month have to do with anything?”

  Sunny wanted to shake him. Hadn’t he been listening? She managed to curtail a sharp retort when she realized she hadn’t presented all the facts. “The Fyfes sued me for custody of the kids soon after Zach’s death. Apparently, it was irrelevant to them that they hadn’t seen him in ten years, nor had they bothered to show up for his funeral. The judge threw the case out of court, which must have steamed them to no end. They have never made an effort to meet me or the kids, nor have I had any contact from them since then.”

  She finished off her water bottle, then continued. “Preacher Bill has rejoined them and is still on his bully pulpit, trying to obtain converts to Vale Luna. I did as much in-depth research on the organization as I could. They’re nearly two hundred members strong these days. They have a fortress in the foothills, and whenever the moon is full, they disburse to the small towns along the Front Range.”

  “Toward what end?” Trey asked.

  “They infiltrate public places, chanting to the Roman moon goddess, Diana. One reporter dubbed them the Howlers, likening them to werewolves. He seemed incredulous that they come out in full force only when the moon is at its zenith. He also noted another peculiarity about the congregants.”

  “What’s that?” Harry asked, frowning.

  Sunny knew neither of her parents would like where this was going. “There were no children among them.”

  Dead silence met her statement. The seconds ticked by with painful slowness.

  Finally Luca said, “You think they want Carson and Maisie to populate their group?”

  “No,” Sunny said, her voice so raw with emotion she couldn’t continue immediately. When she did, her words were choked. “I think my children are intended to be the sacrificial lambs for their precious moon goddess.” She swallowed over what felt like a boulder in her throat. “The Vale Lunas believe Diana will greet them at the Pearly Gates with open arms if only they sacrifice two children to her.” She paused another moment, then whispered, “Two children of their own blood.”

  “Why do you think that?” Luca asked.

  “I don’t think it, I know it. I looked up the full article this particular reporter wrote about Vale Luna. He went beyond the current membership, searching for past members. He located four women, who would only speak to him with an assurance of anonymity. They were all young and had been recruited just after college, when they hadn’t been able to find jobs yet and had no life partners. To a person, they said once they’d been acclimated into the cult, they were told their purpose was to breed with one of the founders so Vale Luna would have its choice of the perfect sacrificial lambs to offer up to Diana.”

  Sunny dropped her head into her hands, trying to regain her composure. After several long moments, she spoke again. “While the Vale Lunas believe the world will end by February twenty-eighth, they also believe that offering up sacrifices on the first day of February will ensure that the cult members will survive Armageddon.”

  Luca stared at her, his expression a mix of incredulity and horror. “That sounds like some made-up bullshit out of Grimm’s Fairy Tales.”

  Sunny said with all seriousness, “That’s what makes them so dangerous. They make up the rules to suit their needs and they expect their followers to abide by them.” She drew in a lungful of air and released it slowly. “All four of those women died not long after the article went to print. Authorities suspected that Vale Luna was responsible, but could never prove it.”

  “Surely there are other women in the cult who can be impregnated,” Bebe said, her voice distressed.

  “That’s the rub,” Sunny said. “The women admitted to having sexual relations with the son of the founders, who was the designated breeder, but none of them ever got pregnant. They ran away together when the elder Fyfes and Preacher Bill threatened them with death if they didn’t conceive.”

  “The ‘stud’ was Zeb Fyfe,” Trey said.

  Sunny nodded.

  “And Zeb is shooting blanks,” Luca said.

  Sunny nodded again. “It’s the only thing that explains why they’re after Carson and Maisie.”

  . . .

  “This is some sick shit,” Trey muttered.

  “And we’re not going to let it happen,” Luca said.

  “You got that straight,” Darren concurred. His steely gaze connected with Sunny. “Let’s go over it all again, and don’t leave out anything, no matter how insignificant you think it might be. Angie, get your recorder and get all this down. I’ll expect a full transcription from you tomorrow by five.”

  Angie gave him a quick nod. “Got it, boss.” She left the room to retrieve her recorder.

  No one uttered a sound while she was gone.

  Luca wondered how the hell he was going to keep Sunny’s kids safe Along with that worry, came more questions.

  What if Zeb wasn’t shooting blanks? Were there other children in the cult who were also at risk? Exactly where in the foothills were these lunatics located?

  He pulled out his notebook and began to jot down notes.

  . . .

  Trey slid off his barstool and stood. “Luca, a word?”

  Luca pushed his chair back and stood. He made an almost imperceptible move with his head and got back a nod back from his partner. “Darren and Angie, if you’ll join us?” he said.

  Libby scowled at Trey’s back and folded her arms across her midriff, clearly angry at the exclusion.

  Harry and Bebe shared a look of confusion.

  Luca stared down at Sunny for several moments. “We won’t be long.”

  She looked up at him and smiled. “Take all the time you need. We’re not going anywhere.”

  Luca sucked in a breath, which didn’t surprise Libby. Her little sister was stunning when sh
e smiled. “Don’t eat all the brownies while we’re gone,” he said.

  Sunny shook her head. “Not making any promises.”

  The four of them left the kitchen, closing the door behind them.

  Libby uttered a disgruntled snort. “How do you like that? We share our deepest, darkest secrets with them, and they all go off to discuss their shit in private.”

  Sunny said, “What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall for that tête-à-tête.”

  “Dickwads.”

  “Watch your mouth, Liberty,” Bebe said. “Where did you learn to talk like that, anyway?”

  “Mom, you do remember how many times you took us on-set when you were filming, don’t you? The crews always talked like drunken sailors.” Receiving no contradictory reply, she added, “When I’m ticked, please don’t tell me to watch my mouth.”

  Bebe’s mouth opened again, but before she could speak, Harry said, “Leave it alone, honey.”

  “You’re right,” Bebe said. “If our daughter hopes to impress Trey with her potty mouth, so be it. Who am I to interfere?”

  “Potty mouth?” Libby squawked, then burst into laughter. “You do have your quaint phrases, Mom.”

  Bebe shook a finger at her eldest daughter and turned to Sunny, probably hoping for reinforcement. “Sunny?”

  Sunny didn’t respond. In fact, Sunny had a faraway look on her face and unfocused eyes, as if she weren’t really there.

  Libby moved over to her sister and waved a hand in front of her face. Sunny neither blinked nor spoke. “She’s having another vision,” Libby said. She circled her sister, but unlike what had happened to Luca, she couldn’t see a damned thing except the kitchen.

  . . .

  The sun beat down on the back yard, drying the kids almost before they climbed out of the pool to tear down to the other end of the yard to run through the bobble-head shark spray, then back again to jump into the pool. Back and forth they went, shrieking and laughing.

  Libby and Angie watched them, amused by their antics. Maisie begged them to join in. Angie resisted, but Libby jumped up and stepped into the small kiddie pool, clothes and all. Her antics sent Carson and Maisie into hysterical contortions accompanied by gales of laughter.

  Angie called out to them that they were all silly.

  Carson hopped back into the pool, landing in Libby’s lap. Maisie followed suit, splashing her aunt by pounding the water with her small hands.

  And then the scene went silent, though it was obvious the children and Libby were still laughing and carrying on.

  On the patio, Angie slumped to the ground, blood pouring from a wound to her head.

  In the yard, three people, garbed in black from head to toe, approached the pool. One person raised a gun to Libby’s head and fired. She slumped over sideways in the pool, turning the water crimson with her blood.

  The other two each grabbed a screaming child and slapped a cloth over their mouths. Carson and Annie stilled instantly.

  A hand signal later, the three of them left the yard through the side gate.

  A moment after that, the vision evaporated.

  The outcome of the kidnappers actions was so mind-numbingly horrific, Sunny couldn’t quite comprehend what she’d seen. She rehashed it all in an instant, wondering why she’d been able to hear pieces of it, while other parts were like watching a silent movie.

  And then she passed out.

  . . .

  Libby leaped to her sister’s side, hoping to break her fall to the floor. She reached her just in time, but ended up being on the bottom of the sister dog pile.

  Her parents shot up out of their chairs and bolted around the table.

  “Should we call 911?” Bebe asked.

  Even Harry, who usually remained calm in tense situations, seemed a little frazzled.

  “Get Luca and Trey,” Libby said, trying to ease herself out from beneath her sister’s limp form. “Surely one of them will know what to do.”

  Harry rushed to the door, slamming it against the wall in his haste to locate the detectives.

  Sunny moaned.

  Bebe dropped down to her knees. Between the two of them, they rolled Sunny off and eased her onto her back.

  “What’s going on?” Luca demanded, seconds later, looming over them. “Did she hit her head?”

  “No, I broke her fall,” Libby said.

  Sunny moaned again, this time murmuring, “No, no, no.”

  “Move back,” Luca instructed Libby and her mother. He bent and lifted Sunny, carrying her to her bedroom. The others trailed behind him.

  . . .

  Luca placed Sunny on the bed and ran gentle hands over her head, feeling for a bump, even though Libby had assured him she hadn’t hit anything on her fall to the floor.

  He pulled the pillows from the top of the bed and instructed Libby to position them beneath Sunny’s calves to help get the blood flowing to her brain again. Her clothing, which consisted of a tee shirt and a pair of loose-fitting shorts, didn’t seem to be binding, so he didn’t worry about them.

  After less than a minute, Sunny’s head began to roll back and forth and her hands came up, clasping and unclasping, as if she were trying to grab something.

  Then her eyes flew open and she wailed, a horrible keening sound that sent chills up his spine.

  In the next instant, she began to sob uncontrollably. Luca didn’t think twice about gathering her into his arms to comfort her.

  “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you. You’re okay.” He rocked her back and forth, trying to console her.

  “Carson…Maisie,” she choked out over and over again.

  Beside the bed, wringing her hands, Libby said, “I’ll go check on them.”

  Luca pushed masses of hair away from Sunny’s face. She’d had it constrained earlier with some kind of fabric thing, but it had come off. Subliminally, he noted the silky softness of the strands, and cursed himself for letting his mind stray to the intimacies he’d shared with her.

  Still, even in the throes of something that obviously terrorized her, he couldn’t help but think how beautiful she was.

  Libby returned moments later. “They’re both sound asleep.”

  He gave her a quick nod and glanced at Bebe and Harry. “What do you want to do?”

  Harry, his voice gruff with emotion, said, “Obviously, we have to find out what this latest vision is.”

  “It must have been horrendous,” Bebe said, “to make her pass out.”

  “Everybody out,” Libby said, and added, “except Luca.”

  No one challenged her as she herded them toward the door. With a final look over her shoulder, she said to him, “Anything changes, you let us know.”

  “I will.”

  The door closed softly behind her.

  Luca settled Sunny back on the bed, then kicked off his shoes and stretched out beside her, gathering her in his arms again.

  After several minutes, her sobs began to subside until finally, she slumbered. With his back to the illuminated clock radio at her bedside, he had no idea how much time passed before she woke.

  “Luca?”

  “I’m here, sweetheart.”

  “It was awful.”

  “I gathered. Do you want to tell me about it?”

  “No, but I have to, don’t I?”

  “’Fraid so. Trey and I are working on a plan.”

  “This time was different than the others,” she said, and proceeded to fill him on just how different.

  He let out a low whistle. “When you said different, I wasn’t quite expecting it to be that different.”

  She grasped the fabric of his shirt. “I’m really scared, Luca. I don’t know what to make of the kidnapping taking place in my back yard now. How would they even know I’m keeping the kids away from Mom and Dad’s?”

  “Don’t let this rattle you more, okay?”

  “Just tell me! I’m getting sick of being a wuss about all this.”

  “Two possibilities.”
He tightened his hold on her. “You’re being watched or someone is feeding them information.” His jaw flexed. “Or both.”

  She tried to pull away, but he held her close. “How? I can see that they might have someone watching me, but who would be giving them information?”

  “That,” he said, his voice laced with a steely resolve that even he didn’t recognize, “is what I intend to find out.”

  Chapter 27

  . . .

  Sunny returned to the kitchen an hour later, composed. She wasn’t sure if that resulted from having Luca stand by her, or from her own internal lecture that she alone had the power to overcome her body’s debilitating mental and physical reactions to the visions of the kidnapping of her children and those closest to her being murdered.

  For the first time in weeks, she felt truly clear-eyed and mentally and physically acute. Even if she faltered in her resolve, she’d be damned if she’d show weakness again. Her sister, her children, Angie—they all needed her to remain strong and focused, not whimpering in fear and rasping for breath. Mind over matter. That’s all it was.

  Mind. Over. Matter.

  The plate of brownies was nearly half-gone and everyone seemed to be on seconds with coffee, if their heightened state of alertness was any indication.

  She slid back into the chair she’d vacated earlier and retold the vision, leaving out nothing. She and Luca had discussed softening the events that related to Angie and Libby dying, but in the end, they decided that both women needed to know. Knowing would keep them vigilant and prepared.

  Libby turned to Trey. “What’s your damned plan?”

  Trey looked to Luca, who nodded. “The change in Sunny’s vision doesn’t affect what we’ve mapped out so far.”

  “Which is what?” Libby demanded.

  Sunny recognized that her sister was more pissed than afraid, but she didn’t think Trey would be able to make that distinction, since they didn’t know each other all that well yet. His next words confirmed exactly that.

  “Angie will start carrying—”

  Libby went nose-to-nose with him. “I’m not talking about protection for Angie or for me!” she said, her voice raised, but not so loud it would wake the children. “I’m talking about immobilizing the Vale Lunatics so they can’t get to the kids.”