by Lin, Harper
It was snug, but I was able to get into the shed a lot more easily than I had gotten over the fence. But once I was in, I regretted it.
The smell was awful. A sweet, pungent aroma hit me. Add to that stifling heat and a weird sound like someone loudly smacking their lips, and my stomach folded over on itself. I pulled out the flashlight and snapped it on while I pulled the collar of my shirt over my nose.
In front of me was a sheet suspended from the low ceiling. On the other side was a faint glow that looked like candlelight. It was enough to highlight the stained and dirty cloth that partially separated the tiny space into two sections. Carefully, I stepped around it and shined the flashlight on the other side. I gasped. The beam of the light began to shake as I trembled.
Spread on a small wooden table were strange bowls of rotting fruit and raw meat. Flies buzzed all over the place, and the weird smacking sound turned out to be bugs burrowing in the rotting stuff. Now, I know there are lots of traditions that include such offerings as part of their rituals. But none that I would ever encourage anyone to join includes the symbol of the woman in the triangle holding a cat by the throat like this one did. It sent a shiver up my spine as I looked at it, making me feel like something had been taken away from me. I couldn’t unsee it.
There was something else strewn all over the altar. At first, my heart raced when I thought it was spider webs, but on closer inspection, I came to the sad realization that it was my aunt’s hair. The beautiful silver and gray locks that Cedar had convinced her to cut off were strewn all over this sick, disgusting smorgasbord. Part of me wanted to collect it all and burn it or bring it home—anything other than leave it here on this table of nightmares. But just as I was about to try and collect it without touching any of the foul stuff, I heard voices approaching.
My heart began to race again. I snapped off my flashlight and stuck it in my pocket. Quickly and carefully, I slipped back behind the curtain and ducked beneath the table. Before I realized this was a bad idea, my foot stepped into something gooey and gushy that had dripped down from the table. My whole body recoiled as the gross texture reverberated against my shoe, through my foot, and up my leg. I swallowed hard, pulled my shirt higher up over my nose, and held my breath. The sound of keys in the lock scared me as I looked out the small window I had broken. I was sure that if they were to see it, they would search this entire shed. This was hardly a refuge.
Before I could make the jump out the window, the door opened wide. The wave of fresh air made me feel as if I’d taken a shower. It invigorated me, and I was able to concentrate, see more clearly, and make a plan, which was to sit tight for the time being. But when I heard the witches start talking, I grew ready for war.
“Remember, this is for Astrid to usher in the Kly.” I recognized Cedar’s voice.
“We’ve got to get to her. None of this will be worth it if she isn’t brought into the fold.” I was sure that was Ethel’s voice.
“It won’t be long. She’s been tainted. There won’t be anything those two girls can do to help her. And the baby is a boy,” Cedar hissed. “It’s a sign we’ve chosen wisely.”
I couldn’t help it; my heart leapt a tiny bit at that news. I had known Bea was having a boy. I’d just had a gut feeling she was. And I also knew that it was going to take more than some Armageddon-welcoming coven to get me to sit this one out.
Just knowing that baby was part of their ceremony made my blood boil. Sure, Aunt Astrid was powerful, and they wanted her for diabolical reasons. And Bea was the most compassionate and wonderful empath a person could know. But to go after that baby, who hadn’t even had a chance to become himself yet—well, that was just low. And I wasn’t going to let fear get in my way of stopping them.
18
Wolf Spider
“Now, get in position,” Cedar ordered. “We must beg the Kly to bring our sisters here by safe passage. We have but one more house to acquire, and then the ball will be in motion.”
“All hail the Kly,” Luann said in her bubbly, schoolteacherish voice. They all began to chant, “All hail the Kly.”
And then, as if holding some twisted church service, they began to chant about this creature they would soon be pulling into our dimension. It was all-seeing and all-knowing. Its right hand was insanity and its left was chaos, and with its guidance, these women would rule the world.
It could have been the fact that I was sitting on a cold slab of concrete, or maybe it was the creepy things I was hearing from these broads that made me shiver. But I was sure the temperature in the little shack was getting colder and the stench was getting stronger, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I was going to be able to keep my composure.
“Bring Astrid Greenstone to our fold. Smite anyone who gets in her way. Even if it must be done by her own hand. She will be your guide. Your humble attendant. In your service for eternity. In return for her, you will give us your favor and protection,” Cedar chanted.
Again, they all started chanting and stomping their feet, and it kept getting colder and colder. But I didn’t dare move a muscle. I didn’t want to take any chance that these women might have superhuman hearing or anything.
“Soon, Shelia will be ready, and you will take your bride,” Cedar hissed.
Those words lodged in my ears. Just when I thought I couldn’t get any colder, my blood turned to ice. Who was Shelia? What kind of arranged marriage was this? Could it be someone who would be moving into that last house they needed to acquire? Was it someone’s cousin? I didn’t want to admit that it was probably that thing with the long gray fingers that had tried to reach me. Just the memory of that made me tremble more than the cold.
Then, as if my predicament couldn’t get any worse, I looked down and, in the pale light of the candles, saw, just inches from my hand, my old nemesis: the wolf spider. It was bigger than the one at the café that had nearly killed me. This one was black and stood out against the gray concrete. It appeared to be confronting me, as if it was ready to settle a score, raising one front appendage into the air as if it was challenging me, daring me to do something. Then a second front appendage went up. This thing was not just an ordinary wolf spider. As much as I hated to admit it, I had heard that arachnids are more frightened of us than we are of them. This one, however, obviously had not heard that same information.
Then, like a bolt, I remembered Cedar being in the café that day I was nearly killed by the spider in the storage area. She had had one in her hair that had disappeared as quickly as I’d seen it. Was this the same one?
It inched closer to the hand that was flat against the concrete slab, supporting my weight. I was cramped beneath the table as it was, and any sudden move could give me away. Cold sweat began to form down the middle of my back as the spider inched closer and closer until I could feel the weight of one of its legs touching my finger. It wasn’t heavy or painful, but that didn’t matter. I was sure that any second this thing would dart up my arm and get underneath my shirt, its eight legs all maneuvering at lightning speed to carry its bulbous body toward my jugular vein. This wasn’t just a spider trying to get from one dark, dank corner to another. This beast was on a mission to expose me to its master.
A scream rose up from the bottom of my belly, and I was afraid I was going to lose control—stand up, knock over the altar, and run around in circles as this primitive coven of witches watched before turning me into some kind of stuttering dunce for their amusement. All because of a spider.
I bit the inside of my cheek, hoping the pain would bring me away from the edge of this crazy phobia. I thought of Aunt Astrid and what these women had done to her. My breath came back, and I hadn’t even known I had been holding it at the time. Then I thought of Bea and the baby boy, my nephew, that she was carrying.
And in one swift movement, I squashed the spider and pushed aside my revulsion at the way its body popped beneath my hand. I did it fast. The arachnid felt nothing. I felt everything. But it was gone now.
An
d as soon as I did that, the chanting stopped.
“Someone’s here,” Ethel said.
“Yes. Very close by,” Cedar muttered.
“Shelia is in the kitchen,” Hannah said.
“What is she doing down there?” Cedar growled.
“Her loftiness said she was hungry. Again,” Hannah replied. “She’s getting out of hand.”
“Go get her back upstairs. Make sure she has whatever she wants,” Cedar said. It sounded as if her teeth were clenched.
“Fine,” Hannah huffed before storming out of the shed.
“Where are they?” Cedar asked.
“I don’t know. But close. Very close,” Ethel said.
I expected them to yank up the tablecloth and peer at me all at once. But it didn’t happen. Instead, they dashed out of the shed, leaving me there with squashed spider on my hand and the urge to run sweeping through my body.
After swallowing hard, I finally crawled out from under the altar. I could still hear their voices, but I was sure they were far enough away from the shed for me to at least slip behind it and pull myself over the fence unnoticed. I had gotten over once, right? Plus, I had darkness in my favor now that the sun had gone down. The yard would be darker, and no one would notice me just slip out the shed door. Without thinking, I wiped the remains of the spider on my pants, feeling as if I could face anything now that I had confronted my fear of the eight-legged devils and won. Carefully, I stepped out of the shed.
But all good plans are usually thwarted, and this one was no exception. They were all there. Staring at me.
All the witches from the barbeque stood facing me in cheap black robes. They were gathered around a pit of smoldering embers that were just beginning to glow.
It probably wasn’t a smart move. In fact, the more I thought I’d be poking the bear, the closer the stick inched to the beast’s hind end. Finally, I couldn’t resist anymore.
“Bwahahaha!” I laughed. No, I didn’t just laugh. I pointed and laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding me! The Witches of Eastwick movie was more believable than you are in those robes!”
Apparently, they didn’t see the humor in what I was saying. To be honest, I suddenly became acutely aware that not only were they not laughing, but they weren’t even fazed. The weight of their stare started to freak me out. I chuckled, put my hands on my hips, shifted from my left leg to my right, licked my dry lips, and cleared my throat.
“Go ahead and mock us. You aren’t even a real witch,” Cedar hissed.
“You have no power,” Hannah growled, her crooked eye staring off in a completely different direction.
“You think because you have the Greenstone name you have somehow acquired their mysticism. You are a phony. The powers skipped over you, holding you in contempt as a failure, an afterthought that can be brushed away like dust from an old book,” Luann said in her high-pitched, Minnie Mouse voice. “There is no use for you. You are nothing.”
I could remember being told the same things by Darla in high school. She had hated me for no good reason and had made it a point to remind me of that fact every day. Even now, when I saw her in town or when she came bustling into the cafe, with her perfectly manicured nails and her ex-husband’s alimony keeping her in a comfortable lifestyle, I could remember those words. But they no longer bothered me like they used to. And I certainly wasn’t going to let some Halloween costume–wearing Mean Girls club get to me.
“Treacle? Are you still here?” I called.
“Where else would I be?”
“Any of your friends around?” I asked, my heart racing as I waited for his answer.
“Always.” Treacle’s meow was like a lion’s roar to me. I smirked as I watched the look on the witches’ faces.
Just then, a huge crow landed on the post.
“Are you here to help?” I asked the sleek bird.
“Why not,” he replied and then cawed loudly.
Within seconds, another crow landed, and another and another, until the entire top of the fence was nearly covered in black-feathered birds, squawking and flapping their wings. Overhead, a few hoot owls swooped dangerously close to the women, who ducked and hissed at them.
Treacle, appearing from the shadows, slunk up to me, rubbing his head affectionately against my leg. He had led a small army of alley cats to hop up on the fence, next to their feathered brethren, in a sign of solidarity against the witches.
“What’s happening?” Luann choked.
“Where are they coming from?” Ethel tugged at Cedar’s robe. Cedar yanked her arm away while her icy blue eyes stayed glued to mine.
“Your move,” I said coldly.
“So, you have a few birds and cats at your disposal,” Cedar said, taking a small step toward me. Treacle began to growl. She stopped, looked right at the cat, and swiped at him as if she were a feline too. But it would take a lot more than that to scare my Treacle. Every hair on his body stood up, and he looked like he’d grown five feet. He stared at her as if she was nothing more than a rat trying to intimidate him. His green eyes practically glowed.
“Is everyone ready?” I called out telepathically.
Every nerve in my body was on edge. Like a rubber band stretched to the breaking point, I listened as all my furry and feathered friends waited for the call. In a chorus of caws, meows, hisses, and growls, I got my answer.
“Now!” I shouted.
Every animal dove into the yard as if there was a free-for-all on birdseed and raw tuna. To my pleasant surprise, several plump raccoons also poured themselves over the fence while mice as small as half dollars scurried under it. They swooped and scuttled all over the yard.
The witches screamed and swung their arms and kicked their feet, sending some of the animals flying. They swatted at the crows, successfully knocking a few to the ground, but where one went down, there were two more to defend it.
“Let’s go!” I shouted over the noise to Treacle, who darted toward the other gate across the yard.
I was just a few steps behind when my foot caught on a branch. At least, that was what I thought it was. But when the gray fingers wrapped around my ankle and I could feel the hard bones beneath the papery skin, I knew it wasn’t a branch. Terror struck me, and I looked right into the face of Sheila! All I could think was that if she was the blushing bride, I would hate to see what the groom looked like.
“Treacle!” I shouted.
My cat turned around and hissed. Sheila looked up at him and did the same. But her grip on my ankle loosened enough that I was able to yank away and run to the gate. Her arm slowly started to stretch toward us. Treacle hissed, and with every claw extended, he swatted at the witch, making her scream and gurgle.
With the gate open, I ran out. A swarm of crows descended on Sheila, distracting her for long enough that Treacle was able to follow me. We slammed the gate shut, and within seconds, all the animals had taken leave of the horrible place.
My ankle ached as I ran toward Blake’s car. He was casually strolling toward it as I started shouting.
“Hurry! Get in the car! Get in the car!” Treacle jumped in the open window. I got in and honked the horn to get Blake to hurry.
“What did you find? Let me guess: they saw you. Is that what all that noise was about?” he asked as he quickly turned the ignition and threw the car into gear.
“They saw us, all right. Didn’t they, Treacle?” I reached back and scratched the cat’s head. He purred and whipped his tail with excitement.
But just as we were about to peel out of there, ready to burn rubber all the way to Aunt Astrid’s house, the engine quit.
19
Peabody Street
“What’s the matter?” I asked as Blake tried the key and pumped the gas pedal.
“I don’t know. This has never happened before,” he said calmly.
I whirled around and looked out the back window. Like a scene out of a bad 1970s movie, the witches approached the car. For as cheap as their robes looked, th
ey did blend in with the darkness almost seamlessly. Anyone who might casually look out their window wouldn’t immediately see them. Plus, half the people on this block had died of a mysterious cause or a suspicious suicide.
“They’re getting closer,” I muttered. “Blake?”
“Just stay calm,” he assured me, but my gut was tightening into a ball, and my heart was racing. My hands started to sweat, and I was sure that I could smell an electricity in the air that hadn’t been there before.
“They’re getting closer to the car,” I said, my voice cracking.
“Okay,” Blake replied as he continued to try the ignition.
“What are we going to do?” I was really having a hard time controlling the fear in my voice. I trusted Blake, but this was getting too close. When he looked at me and smirked, I knew he had an idea. It just wasn’t a great one.
“Feel like running?” he asked.
“Oh my gosh! Treacle!”
As soon as I opened the car door, my cat was out and took off like a bullet, disappearing underneath some bushes. I was not far behind, but Blake took hold of my hand and nearly dragged me into the wooded area that Treacle had led me through before when we’d escaped the witches’ barbecue.
We made it a couple hundred yards into the dark foliage before the terrain made it too dangerous to run. Blake yanked me behind a wide oak tree, wrapped his arms tightly around me, and leaned toward my ear. “Don’t move.”
I nodded, held my breath, and remained perfectly still.
“Where are they?” Ethel grumbled.
