Devil Unknown

by Steena Holmes

  Devil Unknown

  A Bandit Creek Thriller

  Copyright by Steena Holmes

  Thank you to the wonderful group of Bandit Creek authors.

  I’m privileged to be a part of this project.

  To find out more about Bandit Creek and the authors visit the Bandit Creek website:

  www.banditcreekbooks.com

  If you would like to know more about my writing, please visit my website

  *warning - visiting my website may induce cravings for chocolate*

  www.steenaholmes.com

  Table of Contents:

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nephilim Arise

  Bandit Creek Books

  He stood motionless in the cold, sparse room. Perfect for his plans.

  The rat droppings were fresh. His intended guest would have more company than first thought. The stench of mold, urine and sulfur filled the air. The aroma aroused him.

  He rubbed his hands together as he viewed the room. The scorched cement blocks were a nice addition. The fingers of long ago flames licked the walls and left burn patterns snaking towards the ceiling. The little cracks in the floor crisscrossed each other until the kaleidoscope of weeds peeping through the cracks decorated the floor. Ants and other insects scurried away from his boots as he walked around the room.

  Chains anchored in the walls promised torturous delight. Exactly what his guest deserved. Saliva pooled and dripped from his lips as he imagined the hell he was about to create for her.

  It was all for her.

  Innocent. Humble.

  A gift. For him.

  Chapter One

  Rotting carcasses littered the path to home.

  Nathan Hanlin entered the twilight zone as he drove along the curving mountain road towards home. The remnants of ominous music played in his mind. If he didn’t know better, from the dark swelling clouds filling his rearview mirrors to the dust swirls up ahead, Nathan would think he’d entered his own private hell.

  Sentries of large black crows faced him on either side of the highway.

  His worst nightmares come true.

  For the past week his dreams were filled with the disgusting birds circling over a car wreck. Nathan shuddered at the memory. He’d heard that crows were once used as messengers from the spirits, but if they were trying to tell him something, he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it.

  He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease a kink that had set in more than an hour ago. The highway from the city to Bandit Creek stretched on forever. Ahead was the Pass but at the rate he was going, it would be night before he reached it.

  Swerving to miss another dead animal, Nathan’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. The crows’ beady eyes followed him as he drove past. It was unreal how they perched there, their black wings tucked tight against their slick bodies. Only their eyes moved, as if tracking him.

  He could have sworn they were looking directly at him. Not his vehicle. Him. As if they knew him.

  The archway to the Pass approached in the distance. Nathan pushed his foot until the speedometer inched higher. Thirty feet ahead a barricade of large black crows were positioned beneath the large metal sign with the aged black letters - Crow Mountain Pass. Swirling clouds of dust sheathed the birds’ movements, creating an illusion of a huge black dust storm. Hundreds of eyes stared at him.

  You need us.

  Nathan jerked his foot off the pedal. What the…?

  He must have been more tired than he thought. Not a good thing to be on this road. He’d conducted too many funerals from late night driving accidents on this windy road. His vehicle inched its way along, coming to a full stop right before the crows as their deafening caws filled the air.

  The side windows and windshield cracked as the multitude of crows flew at him, their screams filling the air. Nathan ducked his head to his steering wheel, hands over his ears. The glass shook from the impact. Nathan was sure his windows would break. He didn’t understand what was happening. His skin rippled from the onslaught of the invisible beaks poking at his skin. Fingers of dread tunneled through his brain. Nathan cried out in anguish, begging God for help.

  Raising his head, he jammed his foot on the gas and accelerated until he drove past the swirling cascade. Gasping, Nathan struggled to regulate his breathing, failing with each inhale. Once he made it beneath the archway, he glanced in his rearview mirror. Nothing.

  No crows, no swirling dust, nothing. The chaos had vanished.

  He hit the brakes, his toes cramping from the quick movement. He leaned forward and rested his arms on the steering wheel. Scratch marks ran along the hood. Nicked, dented and littered with stray feathers, his truck looked like it had been dragged into hell.

  Nathan reached for the door handle then stopped. His arms collapsed and chafed against the leather edge of the wheel before they fell onto his legs. His body shook as if an earthquake erupted beneath his feet and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Pools of sweat poured down his face as they mingled with his tears.

  What just happened?

  Chapter Two

  She, who could see all natural and supernatural, was blind.

  Joanne arched her body, attempting to relieve the pressure of the unnatural twist to her wrists bound tight behind her bowed back. Struggling to stand, she cried out when her legs, frail and uncooperative, proved unable to support her aged body and she crumpled to the floor.

  A noise roared ahead of her. Her body shook with the vibrations that resonated through the cold wood floor. The air held the stench of sulfur. It lingered and settled into the pores of her flesh. The smell grew stronger and Joanne gagged. An icy chill breeze teased her left cheek and she twisted, desperate to escape the permeating odor and gasped as a sharp object tore into her skin.

  The heavy thud of a footstep sounded off to her right. One after another, until they stopped in front of her. Tremors shook her body as a hot, foul breath covered her. Jagged claws clenched her face forcing her to cry out. Droplets of blood wound their way down her cheek, mixed in with her tears and fell to her shoulder.

  A horrific sound echoed through Joanne’s mind.

  “You are mine.”

  Chapter Three

  The streets were quiet as Nathan drove through town. His hands still shook from the recent attack. It didn’t make sense. The time it took to reach Bandit Creek from the Pass flew by in his desperate attempt to reach home.

  When he first moved here to serve as Senior Pastor at Faith Outreach, it reminded him of a town he’d seen in a Thomas Kinkade painting. Quaint and picturesque with white-picket fences, barking dogs, English gardens and the friendliest neighbors a person could ask for.

  He noticed the lights on the walnut tree in the center park were dark, which was strange. Transplanted in the early 1900’s, parties and town meetings were hosted beneath its extended branches and thick trunk. Throughout the year, it would be lit up with white lights strewn throughout its limbs which would shine for miles. The lights were never out.

  He had proposed under that tree.

  Nathan pulled into the parking lot beside Ma’s Kitchen. Even though it was after hours, perhaps Lucy Jacks, owner and adopted grandmother of Bandit Creek, would take pity on him and serve him a piece of the homemade apple crumb pie. He knew Rachel would have made it just for him.

  Nathan tapped on
the locked front door to the diner with his knuckles, loud enough to grab Lucy’s attention. Looking up, she gave a tired smile and shook her fingers at him. He held his hands together in a silent plea to be allowed in.

  “I’m just a big ole softy for you. Mind you, I closed twenty minutes ago so you won’t be stayin’ long.” Lucy held the door open for him. Nathan didn’t like to see the dark circles under her eyes. Her unraveled silver hair escaped from her carefully coiled bun and wisps of curly hair fluffed all over her head. The sound of her shuffled feet filled the diner as she grabbed a half-full pot of coffee.

  Lukewarm and old was better than the sludge he made at home.

  Nathan sat on one of the ripped red leather stools at the counter and glanced around. He nodded at Jack and the other man who sat with him in a booth nursing cups of coffee. Jack raised his cup as a salute to Nathan. The other man in the booth sat motionless with his head turned, looking out the window, not moving or making a sound.

  Setting the cup of coffee down in front of him, Lucy rested her elbows on the counter and gestured to the men.

  “Well, Rev, we’ve got an old grump who won’t go home,” Lucy said in a stage whisper. “Ole Jack there has been playing with his cold cup of coffee for over an hour now.”

  “Coffee?” Nathan twisted his head to look at the old man. “Jack, are you sick?”

  “Watch the dark. That’s when they get you,” Jack grumbled as he scooted out of the booth. He placed a bill on the counter and dragged his feet over to the door.

  Jack mystified Nathan. He always had. He was a fixture of Bandit Creek from the days of old, or so it seemed. Nathan didn’t think he’d ever heard him utter anything sensible or even understandable. Watch the dark? That’s when who gets you? Nathan shrugged his shoulder as he watched Jack stumble out the door. Drunk like usual.

  Lucy locked the door as it closed behind the old man. With drooping shoulders, she grabbed the last slice of apple pie for Nathan. Rachel Gibbons, the woman he’d been dating for a few months now, made the best homemade pie around and she always brought one into the diner around dinner time for him to enjoy. They always met here, at the diner instead of at each other’s homes. Nathan wasn’t ready to take that next step and for Rachel’s sake, he wanted to keep things out in the open. The last thing she needed was to be small town fodder again for the gossips. He patted the red vinyl stool beside him and waited for Lucy to sit and rest her feet.

  “I never thought Jack would leave,” Lucy sighed. “The old man came in just before I was about to lock the door and asked for a cup of coffee. Then he wouldn’t even let me fill it up. Just sat there and stared into his cup, as if it held the answers to all his problems,” Lucy sighed. “You know he doesn’t come in here very often. He’d rather nurse his JD over at the Powder Horn Saloon.”

  Nathan glanced over his shoulder and stared at the lone man left in the booth. Something about the man didn’t sit right with him. He seemed too still and out of place.

  “Are you waiting for someone to come by?” Lucy nudged his shoulder.

  “No, but who’s that stranger sitting in the booth? How long has he been there?” Nathan said out of the corner of his mouth.

  “What man?”

  “In the booth, he’s been staring out that window since I arrived,” Nathan said.

  “Rev, I think maybe you’ve had too much coffee for the night. There’s no man sitting anywhere in this diner, except the one beside me asking me silly questions.”

  Nathan pushed his coffee mug away. “This isn’t the time to be playing games with me. The man who sat with Jack. He’s been staring out the window since I got here.” After a day like today, he wasn’t in the mood for this.

  “Honey, it’s too late for games. Why don’t you head off home and get some sleep since you obviously need it. That booth is empty.”

  Nathan couldn’t believe Lucy would have the audacity to disagree with him. Did she think he was blind?

  He stood and faced the booth. A distance of six feet was between him and the stranger. With each step he took, a numbing sensation worked its way up his legs, tingling, until he could barely lift the dead weight of his feet off the ground. Nathan strained against the effort, physically lifting his legs by sheer will until he reached the booth.

  He looked for identifying features, trying to place the man. Nathan was sure he’d seen him before. But his eyes wouldn’t focus on any one spot. The more he stared, the more difficult it became. It was as if he was looking out through a train window, speeding by buildings that bled together the harder he looked. Nathan scrunched his eyes together, hoping to clear them, but all they did was sting. He forced them open.

  Now two steps away from the booth, Nathan leaned his body forward so he could rest his hands on the table. A wave of exhaustion and incredible sadness overwhelmed him the moment he touched the table.

  The man’s head twisted and his black eyes narrowed as his focus turned from the window. Immobile, Nathan fought to breathe while a black haze floated over his eyes. He stared deep into the man’s gaze until he lost himself in the pool of darkness. Indescribable horrors flashed through his mind.

  Images of lightning, fire and wings filled his mind. A child’s cry echoed around him. A woman’s scream.

  Nathan shook his head. The grip of fear diminished as he turned his head away from the man in the booth. The physical effects vanished with each breath he took. His feet no longer cemented, Nathan whipped his head around, only to find the object of his inspection no longer there.

  Nathan searched the diner, hoping to catch a glimpse of the stranger. Confusion overwhelmed him. Was he losing his mind? Oh God, he hoped not. Not now. Not like--

  “Nathan, come on now, honey. You just come with me.” Lucy grabbed onto his hand and led him to the front door.

  “I’m crazy, just like her.” Nathan muttered as his head throbbed.

  “I doubt that. I think your mind is usually quite clear.”

  “I swear there was a man inside your diner. When I looked in his eyes, I saw hell. Literally. And earlier, I was attacked by a demonic swarm of crows.”

  “Nathan, honey, I think you need to go home and get some sleep. You look exhausted.” Lucy left him at the front door and ambled over to the small kitchen sink hidden underneath the counter, placing Nathan’s dirty dish and cup in there.

  “Lucy, my mind isn’t playing tricks.”

  “Honey, you’re tired. You keep runnin’, too afraid to face your inner demons,” Lucy waved her hand at him. “Don’t look so surprised. You’re not that good of an actor. You rarely go home at nights. You hole up in your office where you think no one notices. Go. Home.” Lucy pointed to the door. “You don’t have to face those demons tonight, but you do need to sleep on something other than your office couch.”

  How did she know? He’d never told a single soul the truth about what had happened.

  Lucy grabbed onto his arm. “Now, walk me to my truck.” Nathan had no choice but to obey. His mother had taught him that, at least. “Promise me you’ll go home and get some sleep?” Lucy patted Nathan on the cheek as he stood there puzzled.

  He bit his lip as he helped her into her truck. “Good night, Lucy,” he muttered as he closed the driver’s door. He backed away as plumes of black smoke jetted out of the exhaust when she turned the key. It was time to either park this old piece of junk out in the field or fix it.

  Maybe he’d talk George into donating it to the high school shop class.

  Nathan hoped Lucy noticed he didn’t make any promises to her. He wouldn’t do that to her, especially when he knew he wouldn’t be keeping them. Going home in the evenings wasn’t an option Nathan usually considered. Tonight, though, might be an exception.

  Demons from his past couldn’t be any worse than the ones he’d already faced tonight. He’d grown up with a crazy mother who saw spirits in every corner. She always told him he had the gift, something he vehemently denied. Why would he be proud of a gift that destr
oyed his mother?

  No. Nothing could be worse than what he’d already experienced.

  Chapter Four

  Drip. Drip. Drip.

  Joanne’s parched mouth ached as the water echoed against the metal it hit over in the corner. Her tongue swelled with each drip until the dryness of her mouth became unbearable. Afraid to make a sound she lay on the cement floor, quivering with cold and dread.

  She was caught in a nightmare. One of her own making.