Petrified
Page 14
“Two days then, I’ll come up with a private location for our meeting. In the meantime, don’t mess with my friends, don’t look for Naylet, you lay low,” I said. “No more trouble.”
“That’s fine, Obie, but you haven’t seen the preacher’s wife, so please don’t be mad at me about that.” She grinned in a way that made me think she wasn’t looking for absolution.
“We have an agreement then?”
“It’s a date,” she said leaping into the air.
“Wait, how do I find you?” I shouted after her.
She hovered overhead for a moment before saying, “I’ll be at the Museum of Contemporary Art of Georgia. No surprises.”
She didn’t stick around for anymore conversation before she flew away.
“You’re really taking that ‘love thy enemy’ thing seriously, huh,” Fisheye said.
C H A P T E R • 19
I walked in silence with Fisheye back to the porch of the apartment. Keeping an eye out for nosey neighbors, I jumped up, grabbed the porch, and pulled myself up. Fisheye followed behind me. The apartment was quiet when we came back in, minus the ticking of the broken fan. I had missed a large blood stain on the carpet below the fan, with a drag mark flowing down the hallway like some kind of twisted brush stroke. I flipped a few light switches before I found the one to turn it off. A small sofa sat on one side of the room with the TV mounted above a fireplace. Candice hadn’t made herself at home yet. Maybe she was hoping Steve would come to his senses and she would be back home soon. That wasn’t going to happen now, assuming she was still alive to worry about it.
“Come take a look at this,” I heard Cearbhall say from the other room.
We followed his voice, and the blood trail, into a spare bedroom. I rounded the corner to find the stolen dust crates and Holt laying on his back in the middle of a large circle drawn in dust. It looked similar to the summoning circles I was familiar with, but not the same. I didn’t recognize all the demonic runes and the ones I knew weren’t in the correct places. Cearbhall, Hank, and Razor had changed back to human form. Fisheye and I followed suit.
“What is it?” Hank asked.
“It’s a binding circle. I haven’t seen one of these in a long time,” Cearbhall said, kneeling for a closer look. “It’s used to hold someone inside it. Until the circle is broken the person trapped is held in a kind of stasis.”
I looked at Holt lying unconscious in the circle. The dust that made the circle was rising a grain at a time, evaporating on the way up to fuel the binding. There looked to be enough dust in the lines to keep it going for days at the rate it was being consumed.
“So, is there a process here or do we just scoop it up?” I asked.
“Nothing special to it,” he answered. “Grab that open crate and we’ll shovel what we can back in.”
I picked up the crate and placed it on the floor beside the circle. Cearbhall scooped up a handful of dust and dropped it in the crate. A piercing shriek that I didn’t recognize as a scream at first assaulted my ears. Clasping a hand over each ear, I collapsed to my knees, involuntarily squeezing my eyes and mouth shut as if they could help block out the sound. It was over as abruptly as it started. I took a breath and opened my eyes to see Cearbhall in a similar position and the T.O. looking like they were practicing surfing. That’s when I realized the ground was shaking. Thera appeared in front of me looking generally pissed off.
“Tomorrow at midnight or I finish it myself,” she said before disappearing.
Cearbhall and I got to our feet as the rumble of the earth died down. He had seen and heard her just like I had but the bikers lacked the necessary gift.
“What was that?” Hank said after the rumbling had subsided.
“Thera’s not happy,” I answered, moving over to check out Holt.
He didn’t appear to be hurt but had a pale complexion with sweat dotting his forehead. His shirt was soaked in blood around his stomach and running down from his clearly swollen shoulder that was. I pulled his shirt back for a closer look. It was shredded around his stomach but there was no sign of injuries underneath. I spread his shirt above his shoulder and found four uniform holes in it—fang marks. Petra, sans snakes, appears to have bitten him. She must have the same poison that the snakes did. She had done a number on him for sure. The injuries to his belly had probably been sustained during the original attack. Instead of dying he had healed, but looked to be losing the fight with the poison. Regardless, there wasn’t much I could do for him, but with the snakes I found, Livy could help him. I had to get him back to her fast.
“Mrs. Heck I presume,” Razor said, from behind me. “Come take a look at this. That demon did a number on her.”
I turned to see a woman hanging in the closet. She wore a white sundress with a blue floral pattern. The poker from the fireplace had been used to suspend her from the shelf in the closet. It had been bent into a hook shape and shoved into her head. The pointy end wedged close enough to her left eye to make it bulge in its socket. While she wasn’t a large woman by any standards, the shelf bent, barely holding onto the wall under the load. Her body hung limp with her legs touching the floor and bent awkwardly at the knees, reminding me of a marionette. She was covered in blood that had run down her neck, soaked her dress, and pooled on the floor around her feet. A cross on a chain was tangled in the fingers of her right hand.
“What do you think? Take her down?” I said, not taking my eyes off the woman dangling in the closet.
“We have to clean up a lot of stuff here the cops shouldn’t see,” Cearbhall said. “She’s not one of them.”
I thought about it but I didn’t want to leave her hanging. “Let’s take her down and I’ll call it in. Doesn’t seem right to leave her like this. Hell, the cops are probably already on the way from all that racket we made. Can you all get the dust and demons loaded and I’ll take care of this?”
I reached out to take her down. When I touched her, she let out a gurgling sob that bubbled blood out of her nose. I recoiled a step from the surprise. My heart dropped in my chest followed by an uneasiness in my stomach. It had never occurred to me that she could still be alive.
“Fuck, hold her up,” Cearbhall said.
I stepped forward and wrapped one arm around her waist and put my other hand on her neck for support. I lifted as Cearbhall unhooked her as carefully as he could from the shelf. Muffled sobs escaped her pinned jaw and tears rolled out of her one good eye. As a Keeper I was used to death, I was baptized in it and forged by it. I had become an efficient killer early on, of both man and beast. I won’t apologize for it. If Candice had been killed and strung up for whatever reason, I would chalk it up to normal demon shit and move on. This was something else. The infliction of pain and suffering for its own sake is a sickness with no place in the world. It highlighted why we needed to put an end to Petra and I couldn’t help think that Thera was right; I should have finished her there in the yard, even if it meant I died doing it. This was my fault. We laid her on the floor as gently as we could.
“End her suffering,” Cearbhall said, the disgust in his voice revealing he shared my view.
“You’re going to kill her? Can’t you do that healing voodoo on her?” Razor protested.
“With a fire poker jammed in her skull? We would have to take it out and that would kill her anyway,” I said.
“It just don’t seem right,” he said. “There has to be something we can do.”
“There is. You can get the dust and demons loaded. I’ll take care of this,” I said.
The bikers and Cearbhall grabbed the crates and made their way out of the room. I raised a hand to her throat and she grabbed it with both hands. She clutched it against her chest as she sobbed. Maybe Razor was right, there was another way.
“Candice, I’m here to help you. If you hear me squeeze my hand,” I said, trying to sound as soothing as I could.
I felt a squeeze.
“I can end this for you or I can call an am
bulance. Give me one squeeze if you want to be finished or two for the ambulance,” I said.
There was no response at first. I can imagine what she must have been going through. In the course of my work I have experienced extreme pain. The difference is that it’s temporary for me. I heal so fast, the worst is over in minutes. When pain is so short-lived, it’s an easy thing to look past. I could feel the hesitation in her answer when I received it, two squeezes.
“Hold on,” I said, “Help is on the way.”
I went to look for a landline but there wasn’t one. I found her purse on the kitchen table and dumped it. Her phone toppled onto the floor in a pile of gum, tissues, and tampons.
“What are you doing?” Cearbhall asked when he came back in and found me rummaging through the purse’s contents.
“She wants to live,” I said.
“Since when did we start giving anyone a choice?” he said.
“Since now,” I said.
Hank came in a second later. “Fisheye is pulling the van around. Doesn’t appear to be anyone around so we should be able to get everything loaded,” he said. “What’s he doing?”
“Calling for help,” Cearbhall said. “The lady wants to live.”
“Good for her,” Hank said. “That means we have to move.”
I went back into the room with Candice, knelt beside her, and dialed the number.
“911, what is your emergency?” the woman on the other end said.
“Candice Heck has been attacked in her apartment at 1703 Belleview Way. She needs an ambulance,” I said.
“Did you attack her, sir?” the woman said as I put the phone down on the floor beside Candice.
“Help is on the way. Be well, Candice,” I said.
I picked up Holt in a fireman’s carry and headed for the door. I stopped short before going outside, waiting for Hank to give me the all-clear. He did a scan of the area and waved me out, opening the truck door for a quick entry. I sat Holt into the passenger seat and closed the door.
“Livy should be able to work with the snakes in the back to help Holt. I have to get Naylet and I’ll meet you up there,” I said. Cearbhall nodded and pulled out as I turned to Hank. “I’ll drive the van.”
C H A P T E R • 20
DeSoto Falls wasn’t much more than a campground, a hiking trail, and a trickle of water pouring over a rock. What it lacked in extravagance it made up for with seclusion. Located inside the Elvin Nation, right off of GA 19, it wasn’t much to look at. Parking in a small gravel lot by the road was mandatory. Access to the falls and campground was by foot only. I didn’t know why Cearbhall brought Livy here. It meant nothing to me, I hadn’t spent any real time here, and maybe that was the point. There would be no reason for Petra to think it’s where we would be hiding out. If everything went according to plan, she would lay low and stick to our agreement, which would make this precaution a moot point. Fingers crossed.
After we dropped the demons off at Hob’s and picked up Naylet from the clubhouse, Hank drove me up. I tried to talk him out of it, as he wasn’t exactly welcome this far into the Elvin Nation unannounced. But a quick trip in and out would most likely go unnoticed. We found the truck parked on the edge of the gravel parking lot. The truck was empty and I figured Cearbhall had Livy set up at one of the campsites. I gave Hank my thanks and he left Naylet and me alone by the truck, not wanting to spend any more time here than he had to. I knelt and found their scent leading down a gravel path in the direction of the camping area. Heaving Naylet onto my shoulders, I started after them. It was hard going with the extra weight she had put on; hopefully Livy wasn’t too far away. I followed Cearbhall’s scent down the path, past some picnic tables, but instead of leading right to the camping area, it went left to the hiking trail.
“Where are they going?” I asked myself absently.
I followed his scent up the trail, stopping every few minutes to squat and make sure I was still on track. Cearbhall’s scent led off the trail to the north, through the woods. I knelt, wondering if he was playing some kind of joke on me. Lead me on some roundabout way through the woods, hauling Naylet’s now cumbersome form. Normally I’m on board for a nice nature hike, but not today. While I pondered, some hikers had come up on me from the trail to my right. I would have slipped into the woods if I had been aware of them a minute sooner. Better to stay out of sight than have to explain why I was carrying a statue into the woods. I stood up, already smiling and ready for the cordial hellos that strangers around here exchange for casual meetings. The hikers, a man and a woman looking mostly miserable, kept their eyes on the ground and walked by without acknowledging my presence.
Deciding to follow Cearbhall’s scent, I ducked into the woods as soon as they were out of sight. After about ten minutes of walking I could smell a campfire, and found Livy’s camp set up in a holler, shielded by mountains on all sides. I set Naylet beside the tent and stretched my back, glad we had made it. Cearbhall was sitting by the fire, poking at it with a stick. Livy and Holt must be in the tent.
“What took you so long?” Cearbhall said as soon as I finished my stretching.
“Nothing. Just dropped the demons off and got Naylet. How’s Holt?” I asked.
“Don’t know yet.” He tossed his stick into the flames. “Livy’s working on him in the tent. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
I looked around but didn’t notice anyone with us. “Are they in the tent, too?” I asked.
“No, he’s right here,” he said. “Quiet your mind and listen. You will hear him.”
I stood still and listened. I heard the birds, the rustle and pop of the fire, the wind moving through the trees. That was all at first, and then it wasn’t.
“What was that?” I asked. “Did you hear it, too?”
“Yeah, he’s talking to both of us. That’s Walasi, an Old One,” he said.
I had heard stories about Old Ones throughout the years. Thera’s original Keepers. Forces of nature stronger than anything I had ever come across. I always thought the Old Ones were long gone and the stories were embellished. I guess I was about to find out.
“Where is he?” I asked, my excitement evident. I looked all around but still didn’t see anything unusual or particularly old looking. “The stories say Walasi was a frog the size of a house. So either they are wrong or I’m just not looking at the right place.”
“He’s right here,” Cearbhall said throwing a thumb over his shoulder. “Why don’t you show him?”
A tremor ran through the earth as the trees on the hillside directly behind him began to shake. It seemed to be an earthquake or landslide at first, until the earth itself began to rise. I didn’t put together what was happening until two round eyes the size of large tractor tires opened about fifteen feet apart on the hill. Two large legs lifted the body from the ground, revealing an enormous toad protruding from the hillside. Its head cocked to one side, putting an eye in position to give me a thorough inspection. The eye itself had a horizontal, oval pupil with a light green iris. Black streaks ran through the iris and I could see they moved like the electricity in a plasma globe. Just a hint of the power this Old One contained, I deduced.
“Bigger than a house,” I said, staring up at the megatoad.
“It’s still not going well,” I said. “It’s still out there.”
“Hey, Walasi, see that poplar over there,” Cearbhall said, pointing to a tree on the opposite hillside. “Pretend that was a snake head and show Obie how you would handle it.”
Walasi’s head shifted toward the tree and Cearbhall lay flat on the ground. I opened my mouth to ask him if I should take cover as well but before I could get a word out Walasi sent his tongue shooting across the holler. It slammed int
o the tree, shearing it from its roots and, having a solid hold on the tree, brought it back with terrifying intensity. I dove to the ground to avoid the arboreal missile. Walasi caught the tree in his mouth, spit it out on the ground in front of him, and raised a giant foot, sending it crashing down, splintering the tree to pieces and forming a toad-print crater at the same time. The ground shook from the impact, toppling Naylet. I looked at Cearbhall in shock.
“And now we have firewood,” he said, grinning.
Livy’s head popped out of the tent. “It’s bad enough you bring me rotten snake heads and Holt on death’s door but now you’re making all that racket and shaking the whole world. Keep it down. I’m trying to work!” she yelled before disappearing back inside. “I swanie!”
Walasi sank back down into the hillside while Cearbhall and I said at the same time, “Sorry, Livy.”
It was probably best to leave Livy alone for a bit, so I helped Cearbhall gather the wood. Cearbhall jumped into the crater, standing waist deep and tossed the splintered wood out for me to stack by the fire. I thought about trying to lure Petra up here to have Walasi deal with her. After all, it looked like he would have no trouble handling her. That would be taking the easy way out. This was all happening because I didn’t finish Petra off that night in the yard. I could use Walasi as a backup plan, but I needed to see this through myself. Plus, if there was any hope for getting Naylet back, I had to get Petra’s blood and figure out how to separate the two of them. Walasi smashing Petra into dust wouldn’t leave me much to work with.
Walasi’s voice popped in my head.
I looked over at Cearbhall who didn’t seem to get the same message. Walasi must just be speaking to me now. I walked closer in a futile attempt for a little privacy. “I fought the demon once and didn’t kill it. I am trying to figure out how to kill the demon and undo the damage she caused,” I said, motioning toward Naylet. “You are so powerful and I’m struggling. It would be easy if I had the kind of power you do.”