Blood Creek Witch Page 16

  He considered fleeing. They were in a thick, dark forest on a mountainside. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t break anything too important within the first fifty feet. Or run into anything that would tear him to ribbons. Whatever the case, he wouldn’t get far. What purpose would it even serve?

  “Did you find her?” she called from the bedroom.

  “Who?”

  “Duh! The dead girl’s ghost. Did you find her?” When Sean didn’t answer, she called, “Ah, you did! That’s wonderful, Sean. I’m honestly happy for you. I’d say that I hope things work out for you two, but I suppose that’s not possible.”

  Her one-sided conversation trailed off with the sounds of thumping and moving things around. Then she continued. “Why would you find her here, I wonder? I knew she was born here, but I didn’t realize how close she was to Annabelle. You’d think my boss would have told me about that. He and I have some communication problems of our own.”

  More thumping came from the master bedroom, and Evelyn returned, shining her flashlight in his face. “So who beat me to the book? I saw where it used to be. And… never mind, I know who did it. This is almost disappointingly easy.” She lowered the light. “I should have checked with Hattie Rose first. I was being entirely too nice and patient. I’m done with that.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “To you? Nothing. I have plans for you yet. You may hate me tonight, but this is for the best. Trust me. We’re on the right side of things. But, I am going to make sure you don’t try and do something stupid like warn someone that I’m coming.”

  “I won’t let you hurt anyone.”

  “I hope I won’t have to. But, you don’t have a choice. Go sit on the couch.”

  His body instantly obeyed the command. As soon as he sat, he wrestled some control over his body to awkwardly force himself to stand again.

  She pointed the flashlight at his face. “Ah, stubborn and noble. Ordinarily, I’d appreciate that. But, not tonight. I’m behind schedule.”

  Sean opened his mouth to offer a lame retort, and she sprayed his face with some kind of aerosol that smelled of vanilla and alcohol. She kept spraying until he reeled backwards, collapsing onto the couch.

  Evelyn chanted something in Spanish. The odors from the spray grew heavy and tangible. His vision swam, and the room seemed to tilt. His little lamp on the table wouldn’t behave, growing darker as it flitted randomly around the room. He couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. He’d take a short nap, and then go after Evelyn.

  Sean felt hands on his cheeks. In extreme slow-motion, he forced his eyes open for an impossible moment. It was Debbie, the girl from school! He’d come here looking for her, but was having trouble remembering why. This was important. He had to wake up, but the smell of vanilla and alcohol was so strong. He fought unconsciousness for a few more seconds.

  “Where is she going? Who has the book?” Debbie asked.

  “Hattie. And Jenny.”

  “Hattie Rose? Annie’s daughter?”

  “I guess. Gotta warn her the witch is coming. Gonna… Debbie. I wish…”

  He hoped Debbie would still be here when he awoke.

  Jenny had trouble reading her great-grandmother’s writing. Most of the journal simply described daily life for a West Virginia mother in the 1960s. She found a few interesting notes and bits of spell recipes, but for the most part the journal’s age, combined with Granny Norton’s poor spelling and handwriting, made it difficult and slow to read. That, and Jenny had little experience reading cursive.

  Finally, as she sat comfortably on the couch trying to stay awake, she found something interesting. She read it out loud to Hattie, seated in the chair next to her. “Giant skeeters at round-the-bend again. Blamed if I know how they breed, or if they slip in from the other side. Took Annie with me. I hope we got them all this time.”

  Jenny double-checked to make sure she read it right. “Does this make any sense to you? I think she meant giants.”

  Hattie put down her mother’s journal and held out her hand. Jenny handed her Granny Norton’s book, and Hattie repeated it herself. “I don’t think so, Jenny,” she said with some disappointment in her voice. “I think she’s just talking about mosquitoes. Big ones, but just mosquitoes. I don’t know what she means by ‘round-the-bend,’ though. It sounds like…”

  A woman appeared in the kitchen. Jenny leapt to her feet, the words to her mother’s song immediately coming to mind. The figure was indistinct, wrong.

  Hattie stood too, looking around before finally seeing the spectral form. The ghost didn’t attack. Her face was urgent, mouth moving. Jenny fought back fear and listened. At first, she heard nothing. Then a voice, distant and ephemeral as if on a wind, came to her. As she paid attention it crystallized.

  “Hattie? Are you Annie’s daughter, Hattie?”

  Jenny pointed to her aunt. “She is.”

  “Sean sent me to warn you. The witch is coming for the book. Right now. You have to escape.”

  Hattie cocked her head to the side. “The witch escaped? I can’t hear you well.”

  Jenny could have sworn the ghost rolled her eyes. More carefully, she said, “The witch is coming. She knocked Sean out at Annie’s house, and she’s coming here for Annie’s books. You have to escape, now!”

  “Who are you?”

  “Debbie Arnot. I’m Annie’s friend. Don’t let the witch get Annie’s books, whatever you do! Now, run!”

  The girl vanished. Jenny looked at Hattie. “Did you hear that?”

  “Part of it. A witch is after mama’s journal.”

  Hattie handed Annabelle’s journal to Jenny. “Take this to the church,” she said. “Get the preacher to hide it. Got it?”

  “What? Why?”

  “It’s the last place she’ll look.”

  “But the preacher hates us.”

  “No, he doesn’t. You tell him I said the book’s got to be hidden in the church, and I think he’ll do it. He’ll give me an earful later, but he’ll do it.”

  “Why aren’t we running?”

  “Where to, Jenny? Where can we hide?”

  “Then I can stay, too. I can help you fight her off.”

  “Absolutely not! I’d rather gift-wrap both journals for her than let her find out about you. Remember what I said about that man in the white suit? Our only chance of him leaving you alone until you’re ready is to keep you secret.”

  “But what will happen to you?”

  Hattie smiled grimly. “Mama didn’t raise an idiot. I know how to fight off a witch. I can hit above my weight on my own turf.”

  “You can beat her?”

  “No. But I can put on a good show, and make her dearly earn her prize. I’m betting she doesn’t know exactly what she’s looking for. She won’t miss mama’s book. Now, time’s a wastin’! You get going, and hide that book. Don’t come back until the coast is clear. If you need to, go find Jessabelle and bunk with her until morning.”

  Confused, Jenny ran out the back door and made her way down to the preacher’s home next door to the church. The sun had long set over the mountains, and the darkness deepened with every minute. Without a flashlight, she relied on the crescent moon and starlight to light her way. Her eyes adjusted, but details and potential ankle-twisting snags along the dirt road remained invisible.

  She approached the preacher’s house. He hadn’t closed the curtains, and his living room was illuminated by the light of the television. She stepped up to the crumbling cement porch with the book clasped tightly in one hand, and her other in a fist ready to knock. She hesitated, remembering how Jack had described the sermon earlier that day. Why would he help?

  She backed away from the door. After another moment of doubt, she turned toward the church. She tried the main doors and found them unlocked. The mere idea of leaving a building unlocked baffled Jenny, but in a place where everyone knew everyone else, perhaps it made sense. She opened the door and stepped inside.

  The entryway was
lit by two night-lights plugged into outlets. She didn’t dare turn on the main lights. Going by feel and the faint light, Jenny found the coat rack on the side, and the shelf above it. She slid the book onto the shelf, flush against the side so it was largely invisible. Someone had left a pair of shoes on the shelf too. She slid those to the side as well, partly to support the book, and partly to provide a measure of concealment.

  Satisfied, she left the church and silently closed the door behind her.

  “May I help you, Jennifer?” the voice asked behind her.

  She spun around to see Preacher Harris approaching. Behind him, vague and indistinct in the darkness, stood a woman in a polka-dot print dress with a broad collar. Esther. The preacher didn’t seem to notice her, but Esther stood with a triumphant expression in spite of her dead eyes, hands on her hips.

  Jenny thought through a list of possible responses, all lies. With her limited religious knowledge, she didn’t think a preacher was exactly the same thing as a priest, but it still sounded like a bad idea to lie to one. She sighed. “I hid a book in there. I wanted it to be safe.”

  “What kind of book?” Harris asked, frowning.

  “A diary.”

  “Yours?”

  “No. My grandmother’s.”

  The preacher smiled. “Oh, right. Annie. My wife and I met her when we first came here. She was one of the first people to greet us and make us feel welcome.”

  “It sounds like you liked her.”

  He put his hands in his pockets and looked down at the ground for a moment. “Yes, we both did. In spite of… what she was. It’s a shame that we lost her before she could turn from her ways.”

  “Hattie said you’d help keep it safe.”

  The ghost behind the preacher scowled. The priest cocked his head ever so slightly, his expression too subtle to be read in the gloom. “She did?”

  “She said to tell you, ‘It’s important’.”

  “I’ll take her word for it for now. But she and I will have to discuss—”

  He was interrupted by distant crashing up the hill. They backed away from the front door of the church to see tall flames erupt beyond the trees, near where Hattie’s trailer should be. The muffled sound of an explosion came a fraction of a second later.

  “Oh, no!” Jenny cried.

  The preacher stood dumbfounded. “What was that?”

  Jenny started running. “Some of that witchcraft you were talking about!”

  Harris started to follow Jenny, and then said, “Wait. Let’s take my car. It’ll be faster.”

  They hurried into his ancient, tiny hatchback. As he started the car, Jenny watched dots of light appearing in windows all over the mountain. There’d be no shortage of gossip in the morning. But right now, Hattie might be hurt or dying.

  “Can you go any faster?” Jenny asked as the preacher drove up the dirt road toward Hattie’s place. Jenny thought she could seriously debate whether or not it was faster than going by foot.

  “This car isn’t exactly built for mountain roads, Jennifer,” he said. The car bounced, jostled, and wheezed while rarely exceeding fifteen miles per hour. Jenny caught sight of light from flames, and her heart caught in her throat. Half a minute later, Hattie’s trailer appeared in the headlights. There were no lights on, but the front of the home had been ripped open. The hulk of Hattie’s truck burned, but the flames hadn’t spread beyond the dirt patch she used as a driveway. Jenny didn’t wait for Preacher Harris to bring the car to a complete stop before jumping out. There was no sign of Hattie near the burning wreckage, so she raced in through the expanded front doorway.

  Strewn furniture and broken glass littered the living room and kitchen. Books spilled through the door of Jenny’s bedroom. The refrigerator door stood open, dented and bent from a powerful blow, the light inside spilling out into the kitchen over the mound of fallen leftovers and broken containers. Hattie lay slumped against the kitchen table. Her eyes fluttered open as Jenny rushed to her, and she opened her bloodstained mouth. “Jenny, she brought the ogre. I should have expected it. This was my fault.”

  “What can I do? How badly are you hurt?” From the light of the fridge it was impossible to see Hattie’s condition, but at least one of her legs seemed bent in a direction it should not be able to bend. From her limited first-aid training, Jenny knew that blood in the mouth was not a good sign at all.

  “Pretty bad. Mind going to the fridge and seeing if any of your healing juice survived?”

  Jenny turned to the refrigerator. The shelving had collapsed. Amid the mess on the crisper lay the Mason jar. Something heavy had fallen on it but some of the contents remained at the bottom of the broken jar. Jenny carefully pulled it out.

  “The bottle’s broken. Let me get a cup and a strainer.”

  “No time. Just bring it here.”

  “There may be broken glass in it.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  Jenny knelt by her aunt and carefully removed the lid, turning the jar so the unbroken side was down. Hattie weakly steadied the jar with one hand, and brought the edge to her lips. She choked down what she could. Then she held up one hand and weakly said, “That healing song might not go amiss.”

  Jenny recited the song. “Fever a-falling, bones are a-mending…” As she did, she became aware of the preacher’s presence in the room. She ignored him and continued.

  When she was done, Hattie looked up at the preacher and said, “I don’t think a prayer or two would go amiss, either.”

  Preacher Harris found the telephone. “Already done, Hattie.” He punched the emergency number in, waited a moment, and reported the incident, requesting an ambulance.

  While Harris made the phone call, Hattie coughed and said, “Evelyn controls the ogre. I suppressed her spell. In the seconds it took for her to resume control, the thing tried to kill us both.”

  “Where’s Evelyn?”

  “I don’t know. She’s got Granny Norton’s journal. That may be all she needs.”

  “For what?”

  “To go ‘Round the Bend.”

  “What’s that? I don’t understand!”

  Hattie coughed again. Instead of answering, she said, “She doesn’t know about you yet. Make sure it stays that way.” Then she closed her eyes. Her breath came with wheezing, but held steady. Jenny stood and made her way through the jumbled battlefield of her recent home, and pulled the blanket from Hattie’s bed. She draped it over Hattie, and sat by her as Preacher Harris went outside to meet with people who came by to see what had happened. Jenny listened to the sounds of the emergency vehicles making their way up the mountain. She joined Hattie in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, and sat with her until the doctor took her away for tests.

  In the waiting area, Jenny covered her face with her hands, expecting tears, but they didn’t come. She was at least partly to blame for all this. If they’d never discovered the house, Evelyn might never have found it, or come after Hattie. But, if she had done what she’d been taught to do, and refused Jack’s request to join them, then maybe both Jack and Jessabelle would be dead. The logic didn’t show a clear-cut victory for following her parents’ guidance, either. No amount of logic would satisfy the guilt gnawing at her for her role in the attacks.

  As she thought of Evelyn, the guilt turned into fury. Evelyn caused this. Evelyn stole books that belonged to Jenny’s grandmother, whom she’d never met. Evelyn and her pet ogre were a threat to the people she’d come to care about in Maple Bend. Maybe it was time to do more than hide. Whatever Evelyn was trying to do, it was a threat to her remaining family. Jenny clenched her fists. She would stop Evelyn, somehow.

  The doctor came out to see Jenny, to ask her questions to which she didn’t know the answers. But he reassured her that while they were by no means out of the woods yet, and Hattie remained in serious condition, the greatest danger was over and she had a good chance of making a full recovery from her injuries.

  Jenny was so relieved she did
n’t notice the man in the white suit sitting in the corner of the waiting room stand up and leave the hospital.

  Sean dreamed of Debbie. In the dream, she wasn’t dead, only sleeping, and needed true love’s first kiss to awaken. Sean raced to the big house where she lay sleeping, but room after room was empty. He couldn’t find her. The master bedroom took forever to find, and when he finally opened the door, Avery Thomas stood with a glowing violet knife in his hand. The homicidal preacher said, “Praise be to the man in white!” as he slashed at Sean. Sean backed away and tumbled down a stairway.

  He awoke to the smoky light of mid-morning, not entirely certain where he was. His body ached from too long in an uncomfortable position. His head throbbed. He recognized the living room couch in Annie Rose’s house, and even recognized the discoloration on the sofa where Jenny’s blood had stained it.

  Jenny! Hattie! Sean bolted upright, and immediately regretted it as his head pounded. Checking his watch, he found he’d slept almost ten hours. Whatever Evelyn planned when she hit him with the magical aerosol was probably long over. He still felt the urgent need to warn his friends, or at least help them pick up the pieces. He gathered up the now-dead lamp, and carefully closed the door behind him.

  He stumbled three feet out of the door as his legs wobbled. Evelyn’s spell still worked against him. His confusion grew as he followed the path down from the house, along a trail that didn’t seem familiar in his addled state. Walking and getting his blood flowing helped. After a few minutes, he came to a small brook. He could step over it easily enough, but he hadn’t encountered it before.

  Sean sat down beside a tree to rest. His stomach growled. He fished through his pack for any remaining food, but there was nothing left. The trickle along the tiny stream looked inviting, but his thirst wasn’t to the point where he was willing to risk the potential parasites. He rested his head against the tree and considered his options. He could try and retrace his steps to the house, but if he’d had trouble following his original path, he wasn’t sure if he could find his way back from here. He could walk downstream, which would probably take him in the general direction, but unless it crossed or neared a familiar road, he’d be just as lost.