Blood Creek Witch Read online

  Jessabelle braced herself against the dashboard and the cab ceiling as the truck bounced and jumped, and recounted rescuing Jack from the tree, and encountering Sam on the road back. “We were just talking when it snatched Sam right off the ground! Jack and I ran to the barn, but I left Jack there. We gotta rescue him ‘n Sam if Sam ain’t dead already.”

  Jenny could barely make out the road in the bouncing glare of the truck’s headlights as Hattie sped up the hill. She braced herself with one hand to keep her head from hitting the cab’s ceiling. The seatbelt jingled somewhere behind the seat, but they hadn’t had time to fish it out.

  Jessabelle leaned forward, staring up into the sky through the windshield.

  “What exactly is a sally…?” Jenny asked between bounces.

  “Snallygaster. Kind of like a dragon,” Hattie said.

  “Seriously?”

  Jessabelle answered, “I can’t tell you. Ain’t never seen a dragon.”

  Before Jenny could respond, Hattie slowed the truck. They stopped near a house and a barn in a cleared, relatively flat section of hillside. From the ambient glow of the headlights, Jenny saw two men standing by the large open barn door. Hattie shut off the headlights, but left the engine running.

  “Jenny, you stay here,” Hattie said. “Jessabelle, keep an eye out, and holler if you see anything.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jessabelle said, following Hattie out of the truck. Hattie jogged to the two people outside of the barn. Jessabelle stood between them and the truck, staring at the sky.

  Jenny looked over at the barn as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. The two men—a young man around Jenny’s age, and a much older man with balding hair and a flashlight—pointed at the road and the sky. As Hattie joined the discussion, they grew more animated. The younger one pointed to the top of the barn, and the older man directed the flashlight to reveal recent damage, as if something large had struck the roof.

  Jenny felt a chill along her neck as she invented plausible explanations for the damage. Assuming Jessabelle wasn’t lying, nothing explained the evidence. Her heart began pounding harder, and the childhood rhyme returned to Jenny’s mind. She could almost hear her mother singing it while holding her. Somehow it calmed her down.

  From the direction opposite the barn and field, a figure approached. He emerged from the trees along a slope on the driver’s side, barely visible in the darkness. He caught Jenny looking at him, and marched toward her. He seemed a little older than Jenny, with hair paled colorless in the moonlight. She slid out of the truck through the open driver’s side door and met him.

  “Can you help? Someone’s been hurt,” he said. He looked more bewildered than distressed. He had rugged country-boy good looks and a strong cleft chin. He reminded Jenny a little bit of Eric from her jiu jitsu class.

  Jenny glanced back at Hattie and Jessabelle. They were busy. Turning to the young man, she asked, “Is it far?”

  “Nope.” He pointed up the slope a little over a hundred yards away. “Just up yonder by that big tree.”

  She nodded and said, “Show me.” She vaguely remembered some first-aid classes she’d attended with her father before their last move. Maybe it would come in handy. At least she’d be useful instead of waiting in the truck.

  Long-established warning bells went off in her head. She’d been taught never to go alone with a stranger, or with anyone, without informing her parents of every detail. But this was West Virginia, and her parents were gone, and she wasn’t going far. The rules no longer applied.

  The slope proved steeper than it looked from the truck. The hike taxed her, leaving Jenny short of breath. Her martial arts classes had helped her stay fit, but she wasn’t used to this kind of thing. The boy beside her showed no sign of being winded. She grabbed at saplings to steady herself, and forced herself to breathe evenly to hide her exertion. She didn’t know if he’d notice, or why she cared about impressing him. Actually, the last bit wasn’t hard to answer. She remembered how she’d violated the “stay in the middle of the pack” rule to practice disarms and take-downs with Eric past the point of exhaustion, trying to impress him with her stamina and dedication. This boy didn’t exactly resemble Eric, but why make a bad first impression?

  They reached the tree as she heard voices calling her name below. Jenny cupped her hands to her mouth and called, “I’m up here. I’m okay. We found someone who is hurt!”

  The young man beside her said, “That looks really bad.”

  She turned and followed his gaze. A figure lay motionless near a large tree, his body bloody, torn, and twisted. Jenny held back the bile rising in the back of her throat. She knew he was dead, but was afraid to touch the body to confirm it, or to see the face of the dead boy. She also couldn’t pull herself away from looking at the body. Something bothered her about the dirty, bloodstained clothes on the corpse.

  She turned to the young man beside her. He wore exactly the same jeans and t-shirt as the corpse. “What’s your name?” Jenny’s voice cracked even as she asked. She already knew his answer.

  “Sam. Sam Colton.”

  “That’s you, isn’t it?”

  Sam peered at the remains. “Holy shit, yeah. I think it is. Does that mean I’m dead?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  The calling voices became louder. Hattie’s voice rose above them all, yelling, “Jenny, run!”

  She looked back at the apparition. He didn’t seem dangerous. “Are you going to hurt me?”

  “Why would I hurt you? You didn’t do this to him. Uh, me.”

  “What did?”

  A terrible sound came from above her, a noise like the roar of a lion mixed with the blast of a freight train horn. Jenny ducked. So did the spirit of Sam Colton. A tremendous winged form dropped from the stars, tree branches cracking as it smashed through them to land in the only clear spot large enough for its bulk. Jenny couldn’t see many details of the thing, but it had a head like a crocodile and multiple tentacle tails that writhed like giant snakes.

  “That thing,” Sam said, and he faded away.

  Jenny dodged behind the tree, nearly tripping over Sam’s body. The tree might have shielded her from being snatched away from the air, but it provided scant protection from the ground. The snallygaster roared again, challenging her over the bloody meal at her feet. The air filled with the decayed-meat odor of its breath. Perhaps it hadn’t determined if she was a threat or prey, but it wouldn’t take long to decide. Jenny was about to die, torn apart by this savage creature that shouldn’t exist.

  Her mother’s voice came to her mind again, singing the childhood rhyme. Even in the midst of her terror, it brought her comfort. She’d be with her parents again soon. Without realizing it, Jenny starting singing.

  Angels surround me

  Angels protect me

  Angels enfold me

  Angels direct me

  Protect me asleep

  Protect me awake

  Keep evil afar

  And never forsake

  The beast shifted position, using its many tails like a spider’s legs. Then it struck. It seemed impossible that something so large could strike so fast. At the moment its sharp teeth would have snapped shut on Jenny’s head, brilliant blue-white light exploded around her. The beast reared back, screaming its lion-locomotive roar.

  A tail whipped out to her side, striking with a force that knocked a sapling over. Again, the light exploded around her, although not as brightly as before. The tail, thick as a man’s leg, stopped inches from Jenny, striking an invisible barrier.

  The creature reared backwards, its crocodile head whipping to glare at Jenny and the shouting people at the bottom of the hill. It roared, but Jenny could only stand in paralyzed terror. With a leap and strong strokes from its wings, the monster took to the air and disappeared into the night sky.

  Jenny sobbed in both terror and relief, collapsing onto her hands and knees beside Sam’s body. Minutes later, hands lifted her, and helped her back down the
slope. Her legs had the strength of spaghetti noodles, and she couldn’t see where she was going through the tears. Finally, she gave up and closed her eyes. Someone helped her into the cab of the pickup truck. She thought it was Hattie, and clung to her arm, sobbing and soaking the sleeve of her shirt with tears and snot.

  “I don’t know what I saw here,” a man in front of the pickup said.

  “Good enough,” Hattie said. “And that’s what you’ll report to the police. You heard a scream, you found the body. Keep it simple.”

  “What about all the damage? And what do I say to his mother?”

  “I’ll worry about that. You just worry about keeping your story simple for the police. It’s obviously an attack by a creature, so I doubt they’ll go deeper than that. I’m more worried about a bunch of people running around these mountains looking for a bear and getting attacked by that thing.”

  Hattie stood outside the truck, and Jenny saw the sleeve she’d been crying into wasn’t Hattie’s bathrobe. Mortified, Jenny pulled away and opened her eyes, staring at a young man with curly brown hair poking out from under a John Deer hat. She sniffed, and wiped her eyes. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I slobbered all over your sleeve.”

  The young man looked down at his shirt sleeve and shrugged. “You can take my whole shirt if you need it. We were all fixin’ to be monster-food a minute ago.”

  Jenny took several deep breaths. The mundanity of the truck cab helped her recover some of her composure. “I thought I was dead.”

  “Yeah, we were all pretty shook up. Jessabelle saw it flying, and you weren’t in the truck, so Hattie and Jessabelle called for you. You hollered back from the hill, and that caught the thing’s attention. I reckon it thought you were stealing Sam’s body. How’d you find it, anyway?”

  “This is going to sound weird, but I met his ghost. It took me there.”

  “After everything else tonight, that don’t rate high on the weird scale no more.”

  Half a laugh escaped her, and it took most of Jenny’s terror with it. The young man smiled and said, “I’m Jack Parsons, by the way.”

  “I’m Jenny. I’m Hattie’s niece.”

  Hattie and Jessabelle entered the cab. “Y’all squeeze in,” Hattie said as she took the truck out of park. They drove back down the road at a much more reasonable speed than they’d driven up. Jessabelle still leaned over the dashboard, scanning the skies for attack.

  “It’s startled, so we probably won’t have to worry about it attacking again tonight,” Hattie said.

  Jessabelle nodded and said, “Uh-huh.” But, she kept scanning the sky.

  The rest of the short drive back to Hattie’s trailer was silent. When they arrived, they piled out of the truck and into the living room. Hattie took charge. “Jessabelle, start up some tea. I should still have some of my herbal blend in the pantry, unless you used it up while I was in Chicago. Jack, call your mama, tell her you are here. When word gets out, she’s gonna be sick to death if she hasn’t heard you are safe. I’ll leave it up to you what you want to tell her.”

  “She probably don’t know I ain’t home,” Jack said, but got up to use Hattie’s phone.

  “Now Jenny,” Hattie said, sitting down beside Jenny on the couch. “How long have you known how to do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “That spell up on the hillside.”

  “The what? I don’t know what happened.”

  Hattie pursed her lips, and then asked, “What exactly did you do? What happened up there?”

  “Nothing. I remembered a rhyme my mom taught me to say when I was scared. I think I started saying that.”

  “Is it the one that goes ‘Angels Enfold Me’?”

  “Yes, that one!”

  “Sweetheart, your mama taught you a protection spell, bless her heart. And all this time you had no idea what it was. She kept it a secret even from you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Jenny, I don’t know a good way to explain this to you, and the way things are going, I don’t know that I have time to do it gently. Like I told you, you are a witch. You come from a long line of witches. Your grandma was a powerful one. Amy—your mama—was more powerful still. But even on her best day, I don’t think your mama could have done what you did tonight.”

  Jenny’s head swam. “I told you, I don’t believe in witches.”

  “Dammit, hon, every time someone says that, a witch falls off her broom and dies!”

  Jenny’s mouth dropped open, and she clutched her throat. Then she frowned. “Wait, what?”

  Hattie laughed. “I’m kidding. Dumb joke. But we’re real, honey—you, your mama, her mama, and her mama before that. Me too, but I hardly count. I got the Sight, but I don’t have the gift, leastways not like mama or Amy had it. Or like you got it.”

  “I don’t want it.”

  “That’s a good reaction, but it ain’t a matter of choice. That’s a good thing, too. It saved your life tonight.”

  “What do you normally do about snallygasters?”

  “Normally? I’m pleased to say that normally we don’t have anything like that around here. Not in decades, thanks to our grandmothers. The closest thing we ever had to deal with was a giant.”

  Jenny looked at her sideways. Was this another joke? “Seriously? A giant? What happened?”

  “I’m not really sure. That young man on the phone encountered it. He managed to escape, which says something for his resourcefulness. I don’t know where the giant went. Maybe it went back where it came from. I’d love for the snallygaster to just go back where it came from, too, but we can’t count on that. It’s killing people, and we’ve got to figure out a way to stop it.”

  Evelyn’s home was large by local standards. Sean guessed it’d been built during the development of the 1980s the old man had told him about. She’d only been there a few weeks, and what few furnishings and decorations could be found probably came with the rental. She treated it like Sean treated his hotel rooms. She didn’t belong there, and she didn’t plan to stay.

  When he awoke the morning after his arrival, Evelyn had already left on errands. Three boxes of cold cereal sat on the table with a bowl and spoon. A note next to the bowl read, “Had to run errands. Milk and OJ in fridge. Make yourself at home!”

  He had his own errand. Maple Bend didn’t rate cell coverage, so his phone was no help, but he’d studied the online maps whenever he could and had some idea where he needed to go.

  His search took him to a dead end, and then on another road that seemed to be a dead end as well. Finally, he located a mailbox that read “Arnot” in faded letters, along with three others along what passed as the “main road” through town. Not far from that, he found tire ruts leading up the hill into the woods. At the end of this trail, well hidden from view from the main road, sat a dilapidated house, badly in need of a new roof and a coat of paint. A goat, chained to a stake in the front yard, stared at him.

  The house bore signs that it had once been a happier, nicer home, before time and neglect took their toll. Remnants of hand-painted woodwork lined the porch, and rocks marked off a section of the yard that had once been a garden, but now grew only weeds.

  Sean stepped onto the porch and knocked on the frame of the screen door. Only a barking dog on the other side of the main door greeted him at first. Eventually, the door behind the screen opened, and an elderly, shirtless man, missing two fingers on his left hand and holding a shotgun in his right, stared through the screen.

  “Who the hell are you?” the man asked, his voice barely audible under the dog’s barks.

  “Hello sir. My name is Sean Williams. I’m a student from WVU.”

  “You’re a long way from school, ain’t ya?”

  “I just wanted to ask you some questions. Are you Caleb Arnot?”

  “Are you wanting me to sic my dog on you?”

  “No, I just wanted to ask you about Debra.”

  The man frowned. “I ain’t got nothing to s
ay to you about her. Now get off my property, or I’m going to put some rock-salt in your ass.” He hefted the shotgun to emphasize his point, and then shut the wooden door.

  Sean pounded on the screen door again, causing the dog to increase its fervent barking. If he had to, he’d annoy the old man into talking. That, or force him to shoot. Either way, he stood his ground.

  Caleb whipped open the inner door again, and pressed the shotgun muzzle against the screen. “You know rock salt this close might kill you, right?” he growled.

  “I need to talk to you about Debbie. She asked me to find her.”

  “Kid, my sister was dead long before you were born. Maybe before your mama was born. She didn’t tell you nothing.”

  “I know that! I know what happened to her. But I still met her last year at WVU.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I saw her ghost or something. We met. Twice. I need to find out about her.”

  The muzzle wavered, and Caleb lowered the shotgun entirely. “I should have figured,” he muttered. Leaving the dog and the firearm in the house, he stepped out onto the porch and closed the doors behind him. It muffled the dog’s barking only enough to hold a conversation.

  “So you think you saw Debbie’s ghost,” Caleb said.

  “I met Debbie,” Sean said. “Maybe it was a ghost, but she seemed plenty real to me. We even—” Sean checked himself. Best not over-share. Besides, the idea that he kissed a ghost seemed really strange, even to him.

  Caleb sighed, and scratched his bare stomach. “I saw her too. The night after she died.” He cast his gaze down at the ancient porch floorboards. “She appeared right in my bedroom. Woke me up. She told me to find out what happened to her. When she disappeared, and I realized I weren’t dreaming, I knowed she was a ghost. I knowed she was dead.”

  This news hit Sean as an almost physical wave. After months of researching Debbie’s story and looking into sketchy, unconfirmed reports, this was the first person he’d met who had seen her ghost, too. “You hadn’t been told?”