The Hitwoman and the Exorcism

by J. B. Lynn

  With a thunk, RV’s shovel hit the lid of the coffin. We finished clearing it off, then slowly pulled it open using the crowbar. I tried not to look at the face, and instead focused on the hands that were crossed over the man’s chest.

  “Do you think it matters which fingers?” I asked.

  RV, who was wielding a tool that seemed to be like a giant pair of lock cutters, shook her head. “She didn’t specify. She gets what she gets. Help me get this in position.”

  “How?” I asked. Considering I was looking at the whole thing with one eye opened and one eye closed, I really couldn’t see what she was talking about.

  “Hold the pinkie and ring fingers,” she specified.

  Shuddering, bile rising in my throat, I reached for the hand.

  “Gloves!” God suddenly shouted, startling both of us.

  RV nodded. “He’s right.”

  She reached into her back pocket and handed me a latex glove, I snapped it on, grateful for the barrier it would provide between myself and the corpse. Taking a deep breath, I reached for the fingers.

  Holding them away from the rest of the hands, I guided the blades of the cutting tool into position. I closed my eyes and held my breath, waiting for her to make the cut.

  “You can lean away,” she said. “I don’t know if anything is going to come oozing out.”

  Relieved, I snatched my gloved hand back, clutching it to my chest, and leaned as far back as I could.

  “On the count of three,” I said. “One—”

  SNAP!

  She hadn’t waited until three, she had just cut off the fingers.

  I threw up in my mouth a little as I reached to grab the now-unattached digits before they rolled out of sight. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, willing myself not to pass out as I swallowed my acidic bile.

  I knew if I puked, I’d never hear the end of it from God.

  “So what do we have here,” a male voice said from the shadows. “Disposing of the body?”

  Heart in my throat, I opened my eyes and turned to see who was watching us.

  32

  As I turned, my headlamp illuminated the smirk of the Concords’ man.

  My stomach flipped nervously at the sight of him.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” he said with a nasty grin.

  “Whatever you do, don’t drop the fingers,” God whispered in my ear.

  I glanced over at RV. She had gathered up her tools and was holding them in front of her. I wondered if she was going to swing them all at him, like a baseball bat.

  “Everyone’s going to find the fact that you’re hiding a body very interesting,” he said.

  “Sorry, buddy,” RV said. “But we’re not hiding a body… yet.”

  He stepped closer. “Do you think that I’m not familiar with hiding one body under an already buried one?”

  RV shrugged. “Apparently, you are,” she said with enough attitude to knock over an elephant. “But that’s not what we’re doing.”

  Using the tools for leverage, she catapulted herself out of the hole, leaving me in there alone with the coffin.

  “You’d better get ready to run,” God whispered.

  I knew he was right, but I also knew I was going to have a hell of a time getting out of the hole.

  Concord’s man stepped even closer, peering in. “When the cops get here and they lift him up…”

  “They’re not going to find anything,” RV said.

  For a split second, I wondered if there was a chance that the body really was underneath this one. I mean, if this guy knew about burying a body underneath another, then Patrick probably did, too, and since this grave was newly dug, there was a chance that the man he’d run over (albeit to save my life) was here.

  RV stepped closer to the man. “There’s nothing to see here.” As she spoke, she lowered a shovel toward me, and I realized she was giving me a helping hand out of the hole. I grabbed it with my empty hand and nearly knocked her over as I tried to pull myself up. It wasn’t pretty, and it was a struggle that left me breathless, but I was finally back on level ground.

  “Physical training would help with that,” God mocked from his hiding space.

  “Why’d you kill him?” Concord’s man asked me, giving me a searching look.

  “I didn’t,” I said. “I swear.”

  It wasn’t a lie, Patrick had.

  “Well,” the man mused, “at the very least, the police are going to be interested to catch a couple of grave robbers.”

  “They’ll have to find us,” RV muttered, and began walking away. I followed her example. The man began to follow us. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said. “My partner’s guarding your car. You have no escape route.”

  Panic welled up in me, wondering what kind of an excuse we could make that would get us away from the police in time to participate in the exorcism. Time was running out. Not only was it a bad thing to be questioned by the police, but Katie’s future was in serious jeopardy. “Stop,” the man ordered.

  Instinctively, I did. I looked back at him. “Don’t make me stop you,” he warned, pulling out a knife.

  “And how are you going to explain that away?” RV challenged. She, too, stopped and dropped all but the crowbar.

  “I’ll just say that you attacked me with your tools,” he said.

  “Well, at least that would be the truth.”

  Before I even processed what she’d said, she attacked.

  Now, I don’t know who coordinates the stunt scenes for the James Bond films, but they are seriously lacking imagination. RV moved in ways I had never seen before. Her attack was quick, merciless, and effective.

  Before I knew it, Concord’s man was lying on the ground.

  She scooped up his knife and pocketed it before returning back to me. “Let’s go.” She quickly gathered up the tools she dropped. “Turn off your headlamp.”

  “But we’ve got to deal with his partner,” I reminded her as she took off at a quick jog, and I struggled to keep up.

  “One problem at a time,” she said, not even seeming short of breath, even though I was completely winded.

  “She’s prepared, she’s in shape, she can fight, and she doesn’t panic.” God listed the traits he found so admirable in her.

  “So why don’t you go live with her?” I snapped—well, I wanted to snap it, but I kind of wheezed it.

  He didn’t offer a response.

  When we neared where we had parked the car and saw the shadowy figure leaning with his back against it, RV whispered, “You go get his attention.”

  I gulped nervously. “Me?”

  “I can do it,” Matilda grunted.

  Turning back, I realized we’d completely forgotten the pig in our race for freedom. Thankfully, she’d kept up.

  “Okay,” RV said. “Have at it.”

  Not wanting the pig to go alone, I said, “Hang on, I’ll go with you.”

  Together, with me tiptoeing and Matilda snuffling, we walked up to the car. Our approach was not subtle.

  “Hey,” I called out to the man who was staring up at the sky. I couldn’t see his face or make out much about him, but I knew he was there.

  “Release the car!” Matilda squealed and charged at him.

  Startled, the man jumped up onto the hood of the vehicle and crouched there.

  “Call off your attack hog, Maggie,” a familiar voice yelled.

  Realizing it was Gino on top of the car, I said to Matilda, “Shush.”

  I got closer so that I could see him.

  “What the hell have you gotten yourself into this time?” he asked, with more than a twinge of annoyance.

  “I can’t explain,” I said. “But I’ve got to get out of here.”

  “Well, it was going to be difficult, considering that guy,” he jerked his thumb in the direction of a bulky shadow on the ground, “was guarding the car.”

  “Please, Gino,” I said, hearing the distant wail of sirens approaching. “It’s so im
portant that I get out of here.”

  Gino jumped off the car, walked over to me, and put his hands on my shoulders. He stared deeply into my gaze. “Be careful, Maggie,” he said. “Don’t worry about this, I’ll take care of it.”

  “Can you open the trunk?” RV asked.

  Whirling around, Gino and I were both startled to find her standing at the end of the car.

  I nodded and hurried to the driver’s seat. I popped the trunk open and gave Matilda a boost into the back seat.

  “Go out the other entrance,” Gino urged, “and don’t turn on your lights until you’re out.”

  Nodding my understanding, I dumped the fingers, which I’d wrapped in my glove, into the cupholder next to a cup of coffee, and waited for RV to get in. With a wave to Gino, I pulled away.

  “Who’s your friend,” RV asked.

  I didn’t answer, I really didn’t need Gino pulled into whatever the problems were that RV had.

  “It’s time to call your brother,” RV said after a few minutes. “It’s time for the exorcism.”

  33

  I called Ian and made the request that he join us, with the gorilla poo, at the address that RV provided. “Can you pick up Zippy from Herschel on your way?” I requested.

  “No problem.”

  “But do NOT let him out of his cage, no matter what he says,” I warned.

  “Got it.”

  As soon as I hung up with him, I looked over at RV. “You sure this is going to work?”

  She shrugged. “This isn’t my thing,” she said. “Witches, magic, spells.”

  “And yet you’ve helped me with all of this,” I said. “I really don’t understand why.”

  “I told you,” she said, looking away. “For my own selfish reasons.”

  “But you haven’t told me what those are,” I said.

  “Let’s say you’re not the only cursed chick I know,” she said mysteriously.

  “You think I’m a cursed chick?”

  She shrugged. “I think your family’s cursed, and you’re a woman, so hence, you’re a cursed chick.”

  I nodded, concentrating on the road as I considered that. If my grandmother had somehow cast a spell on Herschel, and their children had been cursed as a result, and I was cursed as a result as an extension of the bloodline, that made a lot of sense. But it was a stretch to believe.

  I had expected to go somewhere dark and mysterious, but we ended up on a normal suburban street. I parked on the road in front of the address RV provided. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

  She nodded slowly. “It’s what I was told.”

  A moment later, light shined in my rearview mirror as Ian pulled up behind me.

  We each got out of our vehicles and met in the street. He was holding a plastic tub that I assumed was filled with gorilla poo.

  “You know this is crazy, right?” He handed me the tub as he asked the question.

  “I know.”

  While we talked, RV gathered the other supplies from the trunk of my car. “Maggie, can you hold the fingers?”

  “What kind of fingers?” Ian asked, his eyes flicking from RV to me.

  “We just cut it off a corpse in the graveyard,” I told him matter-of-factly.

  He blinked his horror. “You’re kidding, right?”

  I shook my head. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to save Katie.”

  “Don’t forget the cup of coffee,” RV reminded me. I went back to the car, reached inside, and pulled out the beverage. “Do you want to wait here?” I asked God.

  “And miss all of the excitement?”

  Sighing heavily, I smiled at Matilda, who was lying on the back seat. “You’ll be okay waiting?”

  “I need a nap,” she said.

  I knew the feeling.

  RV, Ian, carrying the cage of Zippy (who kept growling, “Die! Die!”), and I, walked up to the front door. I had one hand with a pumpkin spice coffee, and fingers in the other, and RV had her hands full of the other supplies, so it fell to Ian to ring the bell. Ann opened it and blinked at him. “Who’s he?”

  “My brother,” I explained.

  She shook her head. “He can’t be here.”

  “Why not?” I asked. “He’s family.”

  “No male energy,” she said.

  I wondered if that meant God, too, but I wasn’t about to ask. I smiled up at Ian apologetically. “Can you wait at the car?”

  Glancing down at my hand, which was clutching a human finger, he didn’t offer an argument. He wordlessly hurried back to his car.

  “Matilda’s in mine,” I yelled out, just in case he felt he was in the need of company.

  He raised his arm in acknowledgement to what I’d said but didn’t turn around.

  “To the She Shed,” Ann announced excitedly. She led the way around the house to a shed. She opened it up, and it took my eyes a moment to adjust to the shadows. There was an altar at the back, covered with candles, herbs, and what looked like marshmallow bunnies.

  “That’s for me?” she asked, reaching for the cup of coffee I held.

  I nodded and said, “We also brought the ground because we weren’t sure what six ounces of coffee meant.”

  Grabbing the cup, she scowled. “Not coffee,” she said. “Pumpkin spice coffee, the elixir of life. You did get the right thing, didn’t you?”

  I nodded. “Yes. Pumpkin spice.”

  She sniffed the cup, nodded her approval, and motioned at RV. “Put everything on the altar.”

  RV did as told as I looked around. After lighting a few candles, Ann pulled the door shut.

  A mask, made of paper mache, feathers, and beads hung inside the door.

  “An ugly mask,” I whispered under my breath.

  I made a note to go through that door if this went sideways, since that had been Armani’s advice.

  Once RV had laid out the supplies, Ann shooed her away from the table and got busy organizing herself. I glanced at RV worriedly, wondering how this was all going to shake out. Ann examined the skull for what seemed like a long time.

  “It won’t work,” Zippy barked agitatedly. “You can’t get rid of me.”

  Ann smiled at the little white dog. “I think I can.”

  I closed my eyes and sent up a little prayer that she was right.

  “I need your blood,” Ann announced.

  “The dog’s?” I asked, wondering how we could get that without setting the little beast free.

  “No,” Ann said.

  “Oh,” I said, trying to quell the nervousness that was roiling around in my stomach. “Okay.”

  I didn’t particularly like the idea of spilling my blood, but I would do anything to save Katie.

  “Not you,” Ann replied, her gaze steady on RV.

  I glanced at RV, and for the first time since I’d known her, she looked decidedly scared.

  RV shook her head.

  Ann frowned. “My best chance of helping your friend,” she said slowly, nodding her head in my direction, “is to be free of my own curse.”

  RV didn’t look convinced. “And what guarantee do we have that you’ll even do that once you’ve gotten free of Mildred’s curse?”

  “I give you my word,” Ann replied.

  I looked at RV, saw her hesitation. “Please,” I begged. “Please, I don’t understand what’s going on, but I need to save Katie.”

  RV nodded slowly. She pulled out the knife that she’d taken from Concord’s man and raised it over her palm.

  “Not with that!” Ann yelled out, startling both of us. “Give me a second,” she said.

  She rummaged in a box that was under the table, and pulled out a doll about the size of a teddy bear but looked like a voodoo doll.

  She put it down on the table, lit a candle, sprinkled some herbs on it, and began muttering under her breath.

  Picking up the rusted railroad spike, she waved RV forward.

  She held out her hand, and RV, glancing back at me for just a second,
extended her own toward her. I saw her curl her other hand into a fist to prepare for whatever was going to happen.

  Ann grasped RV’s hand firmly with one hand and drove the railroad spike into her palm with the other. RV let out a pained gasp, and blood began to spill onto the voodoo doll.

  I covered my mouth in horror. While I appreciated RV’s help, I hadn’t realized it would be something that was going to cause her physical harm. Ann turned RV’s hand over and pressed the bloody palm into the chest of the voodoo doll, while chanting under her breath.

  I waited, expecting something dramatic to happen, but nothing did.

  “Some witch,” Zippy mocked. “Can’t even break her own curse.”

  There was a whoosh, and a stream of light lit up RV’s hand and the voodoo doll, and then, in an instant, the doll was gone, leaving behind purple smoke floating in the air. Ann stumbled backwards against the wall, barely staying upright.

  RV grabbed her wounded hand and began to apply pressure to stop the bleeding.

  “I’m free,” Ann said with a thrilled smile.

  “Now, we’re running out of time,” RV reminded her.

  Ann nodded and motioned me forward. I decided to give over my non-dominant hand because it didn’t make sense to intentionally wound the hand I brush my teeth with. I could just imagine the toothpaste I’d get everywhere.

  “You’ll fail,” Zippy began to bark. “You’ll fail!”

  Ignoring the taunts, I stepped forward, held out my hand, and closed my eyes, concentrating on how much I love Katie.

  34

  “Mix everything in here,” Ann ordered, placing something ceramic into my hand. I opened my eyes to see it was a blue and white bowl. She pointed to a spot on the table and motioned for me to get to work. I poured in the gorilla poo, which was more pungent than one would expect. It made my eyes water and I wrinkled my nose.

  Glancing over at RV, I noticed that she had a hand clutched at chest level, still applying pressure to her wound. She looked a little weak. I wasn’t sure if that was due to blood loss, shock, or as a result of the spell. Still, she managed to give me a nod of encouragement.

  To the poo, I added the poison ivy, the dog teeth, and the fingers.