by Chris Neeley
"I'm sure something for fever would be fine, Ms. Creager," Seph raised his eyebrows at James. James started shoving everything back into the potato sack. "We'll be over after while to fetch her, if that's all right."
"That'll be fine. Anything to help you out, Seph. You've been through so much."
"Thank you, Ms. Creager. You're an angel."
Seph hung up the phone.
"We'd better hurry," James said, putting the potato sack in the cabinet under the kitchen sink.
"I know that I need to give the babe my name to stop this thing, but how am I going to do it without letting everyone in the Hollow know?" Seph asked.
"Is that all she asks of you? Give the child the Mayhew name?" James asked.
"Yes."
"Come on. I think I have an idea," James said, already heading out the door.
***
James pushed through the screen door and went out into the sunshine again. It was ironic that the day could be so bright and cheery when he had to do such grim business.
He had hid the witch's pack of goods under the kitchen sink because if he and his father met up with her, James didn't want her to have the chance to get her hands on them.
Aunt Doll had spoken to him when his fingers had touched the book. She had told him of its evil purpose.
James had been ready to accuse his father of everything under the sun, heart attack or not, until he had got back to the house. Seeing his father there had shocked him.
Listening to his father's story had stopped him from confronting him. This girl, this witch, had to be one of the descendants of the Holler Witches that Doc Varner had told of.
His father had never had a chance, dealing with that one.
James had to get this thing stopped.
Then, maybe, he and his father could have a long talk.
James opened the door of the truck and jumped into the driver's seat.
***
Seph let James drive. He slid into the passenger side of the truck. The babe lay on the seat between them, little clods of dirt still clinging to the crocheted afghan-like thing that wrapped it. Seph's stomach turned a bit. "Where are we going?" Seph asked as James pulled the truck out onto the road and turned in the direction of the clearing by the creek.
"Back to the creek," James said, "I saw a stone there. One that I could make a small headstone out of. The reason the girl told you that the baby would be cursed if it didn't have your name is because a lot of people around here still believe that a bastard child who dies without the name of its father is doomed to stay in limbo. So," he swerved the truck around a bend in the road and Seph put his hand on the babe to keep it from falling off the seat, "by giving it a headstone and carving the Mayhew name on the stone, you would be giving it your name in the only way possible, now that it’s dead."
Seph thought that made sense. "But the girl will have to see it."
"We could go to the shack you say she lives in and bury the baby there. It'll take me some time to carve the stone, so we have to hurry. I have a feeling that Fern is next on her list." James pulled the truck into the clearing and threw it in park. "I'll be back," he said. He grabbed the shovel out of the back of the truck and took off for the creek at a full-out run.
He was only gone for fifteen minutes, but to Seph it felt like fifteen hours, with the babe lying next to him on the seat.
James came running back, a heavy stone under one arm. He threw the shovel in the back of the truck and carefully placed the stone down in the bed. He jumped into the truck and they were off again.
"What are you doin'?" Seph asked when James pulled back into their own driveway.
"My tools!" James said. He jumped out of the truck and raced to the barn. Seph hung his arm out the window and patted his hand against the door of the truck. A rooster crowed again. The sun was already on its way down.
They were running out of time.
And so is Fern, he thought.
"James!" Seph yelled.
James came running back to the truck, carrying a small wooden box that he kept his stone carving tools in. He jumped in, laid the box beside the babe, and backed out of the drive, the tires throwing gravel into the air.
James drove the truck as fast as he could, following Seph's directions. He slid the truck to a stop in front of the broken down shack.
Seph jumped out of the truck. "'Round back," he said to James and he pulled the dirt-covered bundle across the seat, then cradled the babe in his arms. James grabbed the shovel out of the back and followed his father around to the back of the shack.
Seph laid the babe down on the ground. Behind the shack, it was shady. A shiver ran through Seph's body. He didn't know if it was from the chill or his fear that he wasn't going to get the deed done in time to save his daughter.
"Where should I dig?" James asked.
Seph looked around. There was a small maple tree, a few feet away. "There," he said, pointing to it. James set to digging.
Seph headed back to the truck to get the stone and James' tools.
When he leaned back out of the truck bed, he had the creepy feeling of being watched again.
He looked at the shack.
The front door was closed.
He had left it open.
Chapter Sixteen
Anna scurried across the wood floor of the shack on her hands and knees when she had heard what sounded like a truck sliding to a stop out front. She sat in front of the door, her shoulder to it, listening. She heard two doors open and close, then she recognized Seph's voice.
What was he doing here? Anna looked toward the spot over by the fireplace where she had been busy with the few things that she had been able to scrounge from out of the corners of the herb cabinet. She had worked a spell, not a very powerful one, and had directed it at the girl child. It wouldn't kill her but it would make her mighty sick. It would make Seph stand up and take note.
She heard him outside now, talking to somebody. Her head thumped and pounded with every beat of her heart and her face felt like it had been through a meat grinder, but she was able to see a little now. She heard the voices move to the back of the shack.
What were they doing?
She crouched lower.
Maybe 'Mommadoll' had sent them.
Anna scrabbled across the floor, looking for something to defend herself with. She couldn't take much more. Animals, she could kill. Two men were another thing altogether. Especially since she didn't have her potato sack.
Her hands flitted around in a drawer that she used to keep her tableware in. She hadn't used a knife of a fork since the night that Babe Rose was stillborn. She tried to stay low. There might be someone watching. Her fingers ran over the smooth silver of the forks and spoons and butter knives. Something hurt her hand, cut it, but she didn't flinch.
Anna closed her hand around the sharp object and took it out of the drawer.
It was her hickory-handled butcher knife, the one her Grandma had given her Momma long ago.
She grinned, causing the scabs that had grown over the slashes on her face to crack. They oozed a sickly yellow-green puss where infection had set in.
She stroked the nine-inch blade of the knife. It was smooth and cold. Sharp.
It was time to go outside.
***
Seph grunted, his chest starting to hurt as he held the stone at an angle so that James could chisel the name 'Mayhew' into it.
The sun was going down and dusk was swiftly moving into the Hollow, making everything look dim, like a watercolor.
Every time James put the hammer to the chisel, it sent a shot of pain through Seph's head.
They had buried the babe under the tree and even though they hadn't been able to dig the grave six feet deep, they had got down deep enough to keep some animal from digging it up.
"Aaarrgh!" something screamed behind him.
Seph dropped the stone. James had just been ready to strike the chisel again, he only had the 'W' to go, and the hammer,
which had already been in motion, came crashing down into James' hand that held the chisel. Seph heard the bones in James' hand crack just before James screamed.
Seph turned from where he was kneeling, on the balls of his feet, seeming to move in slow motion, to see what was coming at him from behind. He fell back on his ass when he saw the horror that was running straight at him, the biggest butcher knife he had ever seen raised above its head in both hands. He caught a flash of light as the last rays of the burning August sun glanced off the blade and speared his eyes.
Seph heard his breath coming in his ears, a roaring sound and the girl--was it the girl?--kept coming, moving as if she was under water and she was screaming, only the sound didn't seem right, the sound was like an old seventy-eight rpm record being played at thirty-three rpm, all drug out and run together, and her hands still held the knife and even though she was moving in slow motion, she was getting closer and Seph started to raise his hand to fend off the blow that he knew was coming, but his arm seemed to be made of lead. He saw that her face, what was left of it, wasn't a face at all, but a bleeding, oozing mess, her eyes spitting fire, her lips, the bottom one split in two, were drawn back over her blood-stained teeth in a maniacal grin and…
Everything sped up.
James tackled the girl from the side. They both hit the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. Seph pushed himself up off the ground. James was on top of the thing that the girl was now, holding down the hand that held the knife with both of his own and he was screaming at the girl at the top of his lungs to let go, let go, LET GO! Seph rushed over and stomped on the girl's hand that held the knife. She screeched like a cat, but she let go of the knife. She tried to dig her nails into James' face. "Help me!" he yelled and Seph grabbed one of her arms and started yelling at her. "Stop. Stop. I'm doing what you asked. Stop!"
Suddenly, the girl stopped fighting.
James was breathing hard, but he still sat on top of her.
Her eyes darted from James to Seph and back again, finally coming to rest on Seph.
"I'm naming the babe. Your babe," Seph said as softly as he could, his voice shaky. Sweat dripped from his nose and he hoped that his heart held out just a little longer. He wondered vaguely what had happened to the girl. She had been beautiful once. He doubted she ever would be again.
He could tell that she didn't trust him. He stroked her hair, trying to keep from pulling his hand away in revulsion when he felt the tangles and the things that were matted into it. He didn't really want to look to see what they were. "Want to come and see? Hmmm? Come and let me show you?" he asked. He played it as if he was talking to a child. He motioned for James to get off her. James started to say something, but Seph cut him off with a wave of his hand. James slowly swung his leg over the girl, his eyes saying that he was ready to jump back on if she tried to bolt.
"Come on," Seph crooned, gently pulling on her hand, "Come on now." She watched him warily, insanity making her eyes glow with an eerie light. He helped her to her feet. She tried to jerk away, but he kept his hold on her. She was like a trapped animal. Seph coaxed her, talking low and soft, until they were at the stone.
It had fallen, face down on top of the name that James had been carving, and now Seph flipped it over with the toe of his boot so that she could see the name. He wasn't sure if she could read it, though.
He drew her down to kneel beside him and took her hand. He placed it on the engraving, tracing it with her finger. "Mayhew," he said, trying to smile. He didn't trust her not to attack.
She watched him warily, her head jerking like a watchful bird.
James came up behind her. She spooked. She tried to jerk herself from the hold Seph had on her hand, but he hung on. She hissed the word "'Mommadoll'", looking up at James. Seph had no idea what she meant, but James must have because he pulled a big piece of quartz out of the pocket of his jeans and held it out in front of himself, aiming it at the girl like a shield. There was a glimmer of recognition in her eyes, then James said, "Remove the curse. You have what you want, now remove it."
She looked from James to Seph and back. Seph saw a bit of intelligence deep in her eyes. "You'll finish it?" she asked in a voice that belonged to an old woman.
James nodded.
She moved away from the stone, making room for James. Seph watched the exchange between the two, wondering just how much James was involved here.
James put the piece of quartz back in his pocket and picked up the hammer and chisel. He looked at the girl. Her eyes twinkled with an uncanny light.
James set the chisel to the stone.
***
Anna crouched on the grass and watched the boy work the stone.
She still didn't trust them. Seph had let go of her, but he looked like he would jump her if she moved real sudden.
When the boy finished the carving of the name, he motioned to Seph and they both picked up the stone and moved it to the tiny grave where they said her Babe Rose lay.
The boy took the shovel and dug a trench and Seph set the edge of the stone down into it. They packed the dirt back around it so that it wouldn't fall, just as full darkness encased them all.
They stood away from the grave.
Anna crawled across the grass, stones digging into her knees. She didn't take her eyes off of them until she was next to the grave. She rested her hand on the stone.
Her Babe Rose had a name now.
Babe Rose could rest, no longer a bastard child.
"That's all I wanted," Anna rasped, not looking away from her babe's marker.
"The curse," the boy said from behind her.
Anna flicked her hand at him. "I will not bother your family again. I just wanted her to be able to rest in peace."
She turned to look at the men. The boy looked at her slyly, as if he wasn't sure that he trusted her. "Take me at my word," she croaked. The boy looked at Seph. They took a few steps back from her, then turned to leave her to her grieving.
She watched their backs as they turned the corner and disappeared around the shack.
Anna heard the doors of the truck open and close. Then the truck started.
As it pulled away, something strange happened.
A tiny kick.
In her stomach.
Anna drew in a sharp breath and placed her hand on her stomach. She had thought that the swelling in her belly was left over from carrying Babe Rose.
Another kick under her hand.
Something that her Momma had told her drifted into her mind, something that she had forgotten and she realized that the union with Seph in the clearing when Babe Rose had been conceived had worked better than Anna had imagined.
"You had a twin, Anna. You see, your Momma has two wombs, as your Granma did, her Momma before her. But your twin wasn't for this world and she came unbidden, too early. You are to be my only child, dear. That's why they told me to have no more. They said they didn't know what would happen so I'm just as tickled as can be to have you."
Babe Rose's twin kicked again.
Anna smiled.
She was just like her Momma.
But she would have to leave the Hollow. She couldn't risk staying, what with the forces that she had dealt with, the 'Mommadoll' that had stolen Babe Rose from her. Anna wouldn't lose this babe. She hugged herself. Anna would name this babe Hannah. And Hannah would grow up to be just like her Momma.
Hannah would carry on.
***
Seph held a hand to his chest as James pulled the truck onto the dirt track and headed it back toward The Bend. His heart was thumping wildly. He didn't think that it was just from the exertion of fighting the girl. No. He was still scared.
Scared that maybe the girl was lying. Maybe she would come around to haunt them again.
Maybe she wasn't finished yet.
"James?"
"Yeah?"
Seph looked over at his only son. He was driving with one hand, cradling his injured one in his lap. "James, I think it'd be best if
we just sold out and headed north."
James looked over at him. "What do you mean?"
Seph looked out the windshield at the passing landscape. "I'm going to put the farm up for sale. Soon as I can. We'll go up north and get out of these backwards hills," he said. "If the farm sells, that's good. But we're not staying around here any longer than we have to. We'll take what money we have and get the hell out of this godforsaken Hollow just as fast as we can."
Seph had made up his mind.
It was the only thing that he could think of to keep his family safe.
***
James stared through the windshield as he drove his father to Ms. Creager's to pick up Fern.
As he had grown older, he had often wondered about the things that Aunt Doll had taught him. Many times he had wondered if maybe his mom and dad had been right, that the things Aunt Doll had said were just her age talking.
Now he knew.
Aunt Doll hadn't been making up tales.
If his father wanted to sell the farm and leave, it was fine with James. Maybe they'd be safer up north. The sooner, the better.
James was going to keep the witch's book, though.
He'd take it up north with him.
He'd study it and learn.
And James would watch for signs.
Forever.
About the Author
Rhiannon Neeley is known for writing romance and now mainstream fiction. Her darker twin, Chris Neeley pens shadowy stories of horror. Together they share a love of the inexplicable and their curious nature keeps them researching whatever sparks their interest, sometimes leading to a new novel. They share a website and would love for everyone to visit at www.rhiannonneeley.com