Face Behind the Mask

by Leo King

  The force of the blast flung her back, the rapiers flying into the brush. The stone cracked and then shattered with a shockwave of concussive force. Dixie, who had been running toward her, was knocked against a tree. She cried out and collapsed. Leona and Patty, who were watching from the edge of the clearing, were flung into the forest. Serge’s body caught on fire from the heat.

  Then the ground started caving in.

  Alexia stumbled to her feet and started running just as the entire glade collapsed beneath her. With a shout, she grabbed onto the edge of what was now a giant hole, watching helplessly as Serge’s remains fell into the darkness below.

  She grabbed at the earth with both hands, straining to pull herself back up. The ground started crumbling. With another cry, she made a final, desperate grab. Her fingers sank into the moist soil. It was terribly unstable.

  “Crap!” Her arms burned so badly, they felt as if they were on fire. “Someone please help me!”

  Then her fingers slipped and she fell…

  … only to be caught by someone’s hand.

  “Ahhh!”

  Whoever it was, they pulled her up with ease. Only once she was safe did she look at her savior. It was the blond derelict woman from before.

  Alexia blinked, her mouth open. “You? I thought Lord Dooley killed you.”

  “I underestimated his strength, and he splattered me like an ink blot.” The woman sniggered and sat back, running her fingers through her filthy hair. Then she took out a cigarette, lit it with a match, and took a long drag. “But I got better.”

  As Alexia continued staring at the woman’s profile, she started to recognize her. She was older, her hair was shorter, and her eyes were harder. But it was the same woman as from the various articles about the New Bourbon Street Ripper that she had read.

  “You’re Samantha Castille.”

  The woman puffed on the cigarette and then winked at her. “Call me Sam.”

  Alexia sat up. “But why are you here?”

  She shrugged. “Just passing through. Heading north. Getting away from the fucking coast.”

  A million thoughts went through Alexia’s head. This was Sam Castille. The woman people had been searching for since 1993. “But the reports said—! I thought you died after—! No one has seen you in years. Oh, I have so many—”

  Sam pushed her hand right in front of Alexia’s face. “Stop.”

  “But, I…” Then Alexia closed her mouth. Something in Sam’s eyes told her not to push.

  Sighing, Sam rubbed her forehead. “You want to know why I’m here? Someone wouldn’t leave me alone until I made sure you were safe. You could say that I brought your guardian angel to you.”

  “My guardian angel?”

  As if on cue, a white flash again caught her eye.

  She looked over… and then stared.

  Kneeling next to Dixie’s collapsed body was the ghostly form of her brother, Michael. He smiled at her and then stood.

  “The sooner you realize that no one can ever do it all alone,” Michael’s apparition said in a whisper that carried on the evening breeze, “the sooner you’ll find where you truly belong. Don’t close your heart, dear sister. Open it and allow others within.”

  Then it faded down into a small, white orb and floated off into the forest.

  Sam flicked her cigarette into the giant hole in the ground and stood as well, dusting off her rear. “You’re a lucky girl. Most people’s ghosts wouldn’t travel five hundred miles just to check up on their sibling. It takes a lot of energy to do that, even with someone like me helping.”

  She walked away, twirling a silver pen between her fingers. “I guess you could say Michael loved you more than anyone else. His little sister.”

  As the cool evening breeze blew through her messy hair, Alexia wept once more.

  Alexia’s Epilogue

  All’s Well

  Date: Friday, May 26th, 1995

  Time: 12:00 p.m.

  Location: Atlanta International Airport

  Atlanta, Georgia

  Alexia held the payphone to her ear, watching the airport traffic. “And that’s the entire story.”

  “This is amazing, Miss LeBlanc,” Dr. Lazarus replied. “Not only does this conclusively prove that a spiritual entity can be fought and destroyed merely with will, but it shows that even a powerful one can be defeated.”

  “It was powerful, yes, but I think you’re overinflating its ability.”

  “Oh, no, I assure you that I am not. This Lord Dooley was higher on our rankings than you think. Not a high-born spirit, but definitely one of the stronger ones.”

  She had no idea what that meant. “I’m still learning about spirits and rankings and stuff. So you lost me.”

  “Let’s just say that your will must be amazing, Miss LeBlanc. What you did should have taken significantly more people.”

  The tips of her ears grew hot, and she hastened to change the subject. “And Sam? I lost sight of her.”

  “Yes, Miss Castille. We’ve been trying to find her for years. With your intel, I believe we’ll be able to locate her.”

  “Good. Just be warned. I don’t think she wants to be found.”

  “I understand. Thank you again for everything. Especially for confirming that the Oracle was involved. Since I sent Dixie over, I’ve been struggling with how the situation at Emory was linked to New Orleans, and now I know for certain. The Oracle is behind everything, and I suspect that his power comes from something other than the voodoo pantheon. I’m going to work harder at cracking his identity.”

  “Pantheon? Lost me again, Doctor.”

  “Sorry,” he said. “The point is that all of this will aid my organization greatly in the coming days. Speaking of which, have you considered my offer?”

  “I have, indeed. And while I’d like to join in the future, for now I’m going to have to decline.”

  “Oh?” He sounded disappointed.

  With a gentle chuckle, she said, “I need some time to find myself. Plus, I want to finish my education. I can’t stay at Emory, not after all that happened. Not after losing Mark and Serge.”

  “Ah, yes. I understand.”

  “But having said that, when you’re ready to destroy the Knight Priory and stop the Oracle, I’ll go there and fight. You have my word.”

  “And I’ll take you up on that. So what will you do, Miss LeBlanc? Go with Dixie to New York?”

  “Not exactly. Leona is heading to Denmark. Now that she graduated, she’ll be teaching fencing at the University of Copenhagen. Since she’s Serge’s widow, she pulled some strings with the Eversoll Institute and got both Patty and me accepted.”

  Dr. Lazarus sounded joyful. “Oh, Miss LeBlanc, that is wonderful! Yes, my dear friend Oskar will take good care of you and Miss O’Brien. You will get a top-rate education there.”

  “Thank you.”

  Leaning into the payphone stall, she lowered her voice. “So, about my brother. Did you figure out… why?”

  “Ah, yes. Michael died in New Orleans, so one would think that his soul would be bound there. However, Miss Castille has… well, a special connection to the spirit world. It’s easy to imagine that Michael’s ghost could piggyback on her all the way to Atlanta.”

  Her throat tightened. “So why did he only appear as himself, instead of that orb, once? Why not more?”

  There was a pause and the sound of shifting papers. “My research so far indicates that ghosts like his require a certain amount of energy to manifest completely. I believe that Lord Dooley was siphoning the energy of the region, being some sort of site-bound earth-based entity. So when you annihilated it, that energy returned to the spirit world, and Michael was able to tap into it to appear.”

  “So where is he now?”

  “My guess is he will return to New Orleans. I am sure you will see him again one day.”

  She hoped so. She wanted one more chance to say goodbye.

  “So he can’t move on to…” She pau
sed. After what she had experienced, she knew there could be only one place for Michael to go. “… Heaven?”

  “I’m sorry, Miss LeBlanc. Because of reasons I cannot speak of, the dead under the care of the voodoo pantheon cannot move on. I’m afraid your brother will be on this earth for a long time.”

  She grimaced. That was entirely unacceptable. “Then one day, I will discover what is holding him here and destroy it.”

  “You aren’t the only one with that goal.”

  Someone tugged on her arm. It was Patty. “Hey, Alexia. The flight’s been delayed. I’m gonna go get an ice cream. Wanna join?”

  “All right,” she said, winking.

  As Patty gathered her luggage, Alexia spoke into the phone. “I’ve got to go, Dr. Lazarus. I hope the invitation to join your organization will still stand in a few years. I’m definitely interested.”

  “It’ll be a pleasure to have you, Miss LeBlanc.”

  She giggled. “All right, then. Need to run. Please take care and good luck.”

  “You as well, Miss LeBlanc. Take care.”

  She hung up the phone and gathered her bags. Then she stopped. There was something else she had to do.

  “Hey Patty?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Go on and get your ice cream. I’ll join you in a bit.”

  Patty looked her over. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  Leaning up, Patty kissed her cheek. “See you soon, Awesome Alexia.”

  Alexia blushed as her best friend left, showing not a care in the world. Of everyone touched by the events at Emory, Patty seemed the best adjusted. Her will is pretty amazing in its own way… when you think about it.

  Focusing back on the phone, she inserted several coins and dialed a number she hadn’t rung in years. A few seconds later, an older woman answered. “Hello?”

  Alexia inhaled and then exhaled. She could do this.

  “Mom? It’s me, Lexi. Let me talk to Dad.”

  She held her locket. “I want to tell him that all’s well.”

  Chapter 33

  A Year after Emory

  Date: Saturday, May 11, 1996

  Time: 12:00 p.m.

  Location: North River Pub

  Murray Hills, Chattanooga, Tennessee

  “All right! Rack ‘em up, boys. Mama’s gonna kick all your asses today!”

  Sam chalked up her favorite pool cue, a red one with two black stripes, and sneered across the table at the men challenging her. Each one of them was sneering back, with teeth missing or wrinkling their noses to look tough. Although none of them was older than twenty-three—more like boys than men—they were known for being the toughest in town. She thought it was just plain adorable.

  Bill, the oldest, who also had the least teeth, spat a wad of black tobacco juice into a nearby spittoon. “Fine, Sara, but you’re gonna face us all at once. We decide who shoots each turn.”

  “Three guys on one girl? Bill, I had no idea you were that kinky.” Sam had gone by the name Sara since she‘d settled in Murray Hills, a rural section of Chattanooga.

  Adjusting himself rather lewdly, he said, “Me ’n my friends would tear you up. But we don’t need Caleb running us down just for porking your big ass.”

  His younger brother, Will, who was built like an ox and just as smart, set up the table for a game of eight-ball. Their friend Macky, a skinny fellow with the face of muskrat, passed out their pool cues.

  She leaned on the table, bored. “Tch. Caleb doesn’t own my ass or any other part of me. He’s just the only guy in town who can handle it.”

  Shouldering her cue, she added, “I’m gonna get a drink, boys. Let me know when you’re ready.”

  As she headed to the bar, Bill called out, “Hey! How much we playin’ for today?”

  “As much as you’re willing to lose.”

  At the bar, Sam adjusted her tank top and took a seat. The feeling of sobriety was starting to wear on her nerves. Slapping a ten-dollar bill on the counter, she said, “Horace, gimme a Sara Special.”

  Horace, who could tell you the name of every person in Murray Hills, peered at her with a squinty eye. “Caleb know you’re hustling the Hickerson boys again?”

  Shrugging, she scratched the tattoo of a thorny rose on the small of her back. “I don’t think Caleb cares who I play, so long as I play fair and pay up when I lose.”

  Then she winked. “Of course, I never lose.”

  Another patron entered the bar, a trucker who passed by the route every week. He flashed her a smile, but she ignored him.

  “That’s what I’m saying,” he said, mixing what she called a “Sara Special,” a concoction of grain and sour mash alcohols that was as thick as motor oil and tasted just as foul. “You’ve drained over a dozen guys close to what, two grand in the past six months? You’ve gotten about two hundred from Bill alone.”

  He slid her the drink. Some of it spilled on the bar and began eating at the varnish.

  “Three hundred,” she corrected him, dipping her finger into it. It stung one of her hangnails.

  “Right, like that’s any better. Look, Sara, maybe you need to haunt a new bar. There’s several here in Murray Hills. Hell, go over to Hixon or Big Ridge. Tons of dives there.”

  Sam swished her finger around the glass, feeling the liquid burn her flesh. “Are you kicking me out, Horace?”

  Sighing, he shook his head. “No, I’m not kicking you out. You’re one of my best customers, and you always keep your peace, even if you get liquored up more than the men. Just please be careful. Some fellas just don’t like to lose, especially to a girl.”

  She nodded and pushed back her bangs, which were longer than the rest of her hair. Then she swallowed the drink in one gulp. It was like sucking on a hot coal. “Thanks for the warning, Horace. But I’ll be fine. Trust me, I’ve been through worse.”

  Then she tipped him a five, slid off the stool, adjusted her shorts so they’d stop invading her privates, and then headed back to the pool table. As she walked away, the trucker said, “Hey, isn’t that Caleb the mechanic’s woman? Sara, right? Why does she always look so angry?”

  “I dunno,” Horace said. “She came into town about a year ago and hooked up with him. As far as I know, she’s never opened up to anyone. I get the feeling that whatever past she’s running from is real ugly.”

  Horace, you have no idea.

  An hour later, she was two drinks drunker and three hundred dollars richer. As she stuffed the money into her front pocket, she said, “Thank you much, boys, for contributing to tonight’s party fund. When I’m getting drunk and laid, I will think of absolutely none of you.”

  “Hey, now,” Bill said. “Just because you won don’t make it right to say stuff like that. It ain’t natural for a woman to be that good at pool, especially when drunk.”

  “I’m not drunk. I’m just better than you.” She leaned on her pool stick and blew kisses at him.

  He started blowing up, as did Will and Macky. That’s when a deep voice came from the doorway. “You fellas aren’t thinking of swinging at a lady, are you?”

  Caleb’s impressive form shimmered in the afternoon sun. Sweat beaded up on his bald head and ran down the milk chocolate texture of his skin to the white tank top that barely covered his broad chest. As far she was concerned, he was the only good-looking guy in all of Murray Hills. She watched him appreciatively.

  Bill said, “It’s not like that, Caleb. She just gets so arrogant sometimes. Like she thinks she’s better than us!”

  Caleb slid an arm around her, putting his hand possessively on her hip. Sometimes, she’d slap it away to remind him that he didn’t own her. But for now, she wanted it there.

  “If you boys are so tore up over Sara beating you, why do you keep playing? Don’t treat her like you gotta beat her. She’s one of us now.”

  The young men started leaving, with Bill furrowing his brow. “No, Caleb, that’s where you’re wrong. That woman will never be one
of us. And she needs to watch that big ass of hers if she knows what’s good.”

  Once they were gone, Sam glanced around the bar. Everyone, including Horace, had been watching with anxious expressions. It was more attention than she would have liked. She was, after all, trying to leave the life of Sam Castille behind her.

  “Gettin’ into trouble again, hun?” Caleb let go and leaned against the pool table. Some of his sweat splashed on the green fabric.

  She shrugged. “I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s just money. I don’t complain when they beat me at darts. And… my ass is not big.”

  Laughing loud and hard, he patted her back and led her out of the bar. Above, the sun was beating down on the dirt and concrete roads, but in the distance, rainclouds were already forming. It was springtime in the Appalachian Mountains.

  “Well, just remember that Deputy Hammond is watching you after that business with the rum bottle and spittoon. Try not to get in any fights this time, all right? My business can’t handle that kind of heat.”

  As they walked down a dusty road toward his home, where he ran his garage, she wrapped her arms around herself. “Well, I’ll try. But when they start acting like they’re better than me just ‘cause they’re guys, it really pisses me off.”

  I am a queen, after all.

  He rubbed her shoulder. “Don’t let them get to you. They’re just boys. They don’t know how to handle a real woman.”

  They walked in a silence a bit more.

  “Caleb, you don’t think they’re right, do you?”

  “Hmm? About what, hun? About you not belonging?”

  “No. I mean, do I have a big ass?” She snickered.

  He chuckled and carefully placed his hand on her backside. It felt nice, and when she didn’t protest, he squeezed. “Seems perfect to me.”

  She grinned at him, her hormones flaring up like a volcano. “Wanna take it for a spin?”