by J K Nen
Cursing under her breath, Logan moved forward.
CHAPTER 31
Despite the fright earlier, Zeus was confident. Sylvie and her crew of misfits at Mystic Grotto had no idea who he was. He had slipped from routine when he killed Alfonso Stevens and Greta Szachs. It was additional stress he had not planned for. Maybe the voices he heard were a product of his overactive imagination. His focus right now was to get his Demeter to the afterlife. The altar was ready, so was Paulette. He loved the energy that flowed though him when the sacred blood of a newly sacrificed goddess dripped into the skull he kept. He needed to preserve each goddess for the afterlife. He only collected their blood through blood transfusion.
Fate brought the skull to him, through a chance encounter with a beautiful girl in an Athens bar. Greece’s best-kept secret, she told him, was an altar in a rock cave dedicated to Zeus, King of the Gods. She agreed to take him there on the condition that her best friend come along.
The delighted girls helped themselves to the inflight bar on the private plane during the flight to Karpathos. But for Zeus, it was a euphoric experience. In the cockpit, he had an epiphany. The shrine held the key to his destiny. He checked them into a five-star resort and hired a yacht for a week.
To his consternation, once they got to Karpathos, the girl told him she had seen the cave just once as a child. She could not remember the exact location. By day three, he left them to their own devices and explored on his own. He hit pay dirt quite by accident, an altar in a grotto tucked away in a cliff face. He rested for lunch on a rocky ledge and flung a pebble into the shrubs. The echo of the pebble hitting a hard surface came back. On closer inspection, he discovered a well-preserved altar and with it, another divine revelation. Whoever built this altar kept it a secret because he practiced human sacrifice.
He spent the next two days checking the surrounding area. He found the skull in a cleft under the altar. The holidays were over. The thousands he paid in bribes to get the skull out of Greece and into Australia had been worth every penny.
When Paulette woke up, the blindfold, binds and gag were gone. She saw a naked woman with strange markings all over her body vanish into the wall. Paulette slipped on a surgical gown carelessly thrown over a chair. She stood on shaky legs as the effect of the drugs wore off. Despite the sterile room, a faint smell of death, reminiscent of mortuaries, lingered. A throne had been mounted on a pedestal facing concrete steps that led up to a stone altar. Hundreds of burning candles surrounded the altar. The soundproof room was fitted with mirrors from floor to ceiling. Massive high-definition LCD screens hung from the rafters, some linked up to the property’s security cameras, others tuned in to television stations, all with the sound muted.
A haggard Sitiveni pleading for her safe return, holding up her framed photo. The proud Polynesian warrior, cheating ex-husband and absentee father gone, replaced by a haggard, gaunt man. Paulette brushed her emotion aside. She had to get out of there fast before the monster returned.
The naked apparition returned and tapped the door. It swung open. She motioned for Paulette to follow.
The sound of his alarm woke him up. Zeus felt refreshed after his nap. Demeter was ripe for sacrifice. Most scholars dismissed the notion of human sacrifice in Greek mythology, that Greek legends written by philosophers like Plato were just myths. The recent archaeological find of a teenage boy on Zeus’ unearthed altar at Mount Lykaion blew that theory to smithereens. He was close to the complete circle.
He thought of Jamie, his Persephone initially, now his Aphrodite.
Two for the price of one, he gloated.
But first, he must get Demeter to the Underworld, where Hades waited.
He tapped the lever disguised as a book on the bookshelf in his library. It turned with a groan. He made a mental note to himself to oil the hinges. The safe behind the bookshelf held his tools of trade. Using his syringe, he extracted hemlock and placed it carefully in a covered plastic tray. Shutting the safe, he returned to the library. He checked the clock. He had ten minutes to place Demeter on the altar.
The door opened automatically to his palms print. Zeus gasped. Paulette was gone. The restraints, gag and blindfold lay useless on the floor, his surgical gown missing. His senses screamed at the profanity. No victim ever left his altar alive. He could not imagine how she had freed herself. Fury painted his vision red. He stabbed at the plush seat of his throne, frenzied, like a man possessed.
With his rage was spent, he grabbed his telescopic hunting rifle to hunt her down. He knew the farm like the back of his hand. Demeter was going out in style. He would make sure of it.
Outside the SWAT team fanned out, then moved in formation toward the house.
Zeus shone his flashlight on the trampled plants and twigs, blood spatter on leaves and footprints. A twig snapped. He spun around and caught a flash of curly hair duck under a hedge of native flora. He chased the figure. It vanished. His eyes were playing tricks on him.
A tree branch fell. He spun around. The apparition disappeared behind a jacaranda sapling. Close enough for him to notice a naked woman painted with white clay markings. He sprinted towards her. Like a mirage, she faded from view.
Something landed with a thud a few meters away. He cautiously approached it. It was a brick from his courtyard. Was Paulette toying with him? A pebble whistled past his ear and hit a nest of hornets in the tree branch directly above his head. The angry swarm descended, sending him cursing and crashing through the bushes.
His screams alerted the SWAT team. Castle motioned for the left flank to move towards the sound. Logan led the others towards the pool house.
Zeus dived into the marsh and immersed himself completely in the icy, foul-smelling mud. The water soothed his burning skin. For the first time, he felt a sliver of fear. He was no longer in control. He reached down to pick up his gun. The spectre whizzed past in a blur, and vanished.
He sank to his haunches, flustered. She passed by again, close enough, yet too fast. He followed.
Logan’s team burst into the pool house, found the trapdoor and descended the steps leading down to a chamber of horrors. It was empty. They ran back upstairs. The bushland had come alive with feral screams and calls. They could not decide if the sounds were human or animal.
Zeus could not take his eyes off the scantily clothed woman on the porch, smiling and beckoning him to her. Stupefied, he remained rooted to the spot. He watched in horror as she levitated towards him, smiling a bloody smile, as red spittle dripped from her mouth. The apparition resembled Jamie Maddox.
Had he opened the portal to the underworld? He turned to flee but his body refused to obey. As she sped past, she punched his face and sent him flying. The gun flew from his grasp. Whatever this creature was, he was not imagining it.
“Come on Zeus, you’ve been following me,” she taunted. “You asked me to come. Now I’m here. Don’t you wanna play?”
His bladder gave way. She hopped up to the chimney, in a single motion, then swooped down at him. Whatever this was could not be human. He broke into a run toward his house. A vicious kick on the small of his back sent him sprawling to the ground. She landed with a thud and picked him up like a rag doll. Flipping him over, she forced his mouth open. Her mouth emitted a green gas as she leaned in to kiss him. Z choked, and then passed out.
When he regained consciousness, he slowly became aware of women wandering about the yard. Souls of the women he murdered. Once attractive, vivacious women, now, trapped in a twilight hell, walking around like zombies. He recognised the clothes he had dressed them in, now tattered and filthy. Some had both eye sockets empty; others had rotting eyes or just one milky eye staring at nothing. His earlier victims had bald skulls, others with bits of hair and rotting flesh still attached to their skulls. Bone showed through rotting arms and legs. He recognised the goddesses he had sacrificed in Africa and Europe. Jamie, half-naked in a tiny bark skirt, chanted, her back to him. The ghosts turned to her, more animated. Soon voices o
f an unseen choir joined in.
Suddenly Zeus knew. Jamie had summoned all these ghosts to haunt him into madness.
He grabbed her in a powerful chokehold. Jamie let herself go limp, out of her mouth poured an ancient chant. Jamie reached up and broke Zeus’ middle finger. With a blood-curdling cry, Zeus let her go. Jamie lifted him and hauled him bodily across the driveway. He hit the concrete fountain centrepiece of the driveway and dropped onto the stone pavement. She casually strolled after him as he tried to crawl away. She stood over him and broke two more fingers. He screamed himself hoarse.
As Jamie worked Zeus over, the ancients sang their song of healing. The women started to change, even the clothes they wore replaced by their own outfits. Flesh filled out their forms. Zeus lay, breathing heavily. Jamie paused to look at the women, sad that their children who would never see them again. To think he had intended the same fate for her. Fresh anger coursed through her. She lifted his lolling head and blew a yellow powder into his eyes. He now had a permanent window into the spirit world.
For the first time, Zeus saw other terrifying beings, gargoyles, demons and creatures too horrible to describe. He had to get away. He picked himself up and limped towards the helipad. The SWAT team made to move in but Logan held up her hand. Vernon was in no state to fly. He entered the chopper and fired up the engine.
Jamie chanted and danced, appearing not to notice him. When the rotor began to move, she broke into a frenzied dance. The chopper lifted off slightly, veering as he tried to maintain control with his broken fingers.
Jamie flung white powder into the air. Everything stood still. She hit the ground with the palms of her hands. A violent gust of wind hit the side of the helicopter. Vernon struggled to steer the bird back on track. Jamie hit the ground again. A second blast of wind pushed the chopper toward the trees.
Logan could not believe it. Jamie somehow commandeered the wind to hit the helicopter. Vernon’s efforts to increase the power failed. As Jamie hit the ground with both fists, an invisible force picked up the chopper and flung it against the trees with a violent thud. The rotor blades caught in the branches, horribly twisted out of shape as the chopper’s body hit the ground with a shudder.
Vernon crawled from the wreckage, battered and badly injured. Within minutes, a fireball erupted from the wreckage.
Jamie walked over and lifted him by his belt as though he were a rag doll. Carrying him, she sprinted towards the house, jumped onto the veranda railing and launched herself onto the roof in a single leap. Logan and the SWAT team watched in awe. When she made to throw him to the ground, Logan intervened.
“Jamie!”
She turned to look. Lisa Logan and her team had all their guns trained on her and Vernon.
“It doesn’t have to end like this,” Logan called.
Jamie saw the ancients form a shield around her.
“He’s killed so many women, deprived their children of their mothers,” she replied. “He doesn’t deserve to live.”
“That’s not for you to decide, Jamie. We need to find out why he did it.”
Jamie just wanted to finish off this harbinger of evil.
“Jamie, you could go to jail for this,” Logan reminded her. “Who would look after your children? They’ve lost their dad. Do they have to lose you too? Is this monster worth it?”
Jamie hesitated. After what seemed like an eternity, she dragged him to the lower part of the roof and kicked him to the ground.
It was over.
CHAPTER 32
Logan glowed with satisfaction as she examined the timber decking she had just secured in the frame. She woke up at the crack of dawn all week to work on the deck. The teak table she made with its inbuilt cooler looked lamazing. The gazebo looked great. With summer on the way, she wanted to be prepared. The Z case had consumed her time, and her winter garden looked a little worse for wear. Like other DIYers, she was loathe to pay someone else to do it for her. YouTube university gave her all the handyman skills she needed .
Taking a beer from the fridge, she sank into the chaise lounge to soak up the last of the sun rays. It was only day 8 of her month long holiday. With the promotion, awards and media attention following the capture of Dr Chris Vernon, Castle gave her time off.
It was far from over. Vernon waited for his day in court in a psychiatric hospital, caught in a hellish world of demonic torture. It seemed he had checked out of reality. Vernon loved Greek history and in his twisted mind, believed he would be immortal if he sacrificed women who epitomised the seven goddesses of Greek lore.
Paulette Tamate escaped with her life. She had Jamila Maddox to thank for that.
Ted Winters privately awarded Jamie Maddox the reward he had posted for the successful arrest of the killer. Days later, she called Logan to remind her to return to PNG as soon as the nightmares began again.
The day the taskforce officially disbanded, Logan met her triumphant colleagues at the Pasadena, personally hosted by Ebony Perez. Lately Davidson and Ebony had been seeing a lot of each other. Much to his friends’ relief, Stella Ebb was history. What should have been a celebratory drink turned into a long night of singing, dancing and stumbling home in the wee hours. Only Shepherd remained stone cold-sober, though he did his fair share of karaoke.
Chuck’s absence hit Logan hard now that she was home. To mute her sense of loss, she focussed on hard, physical work.
Guardians of the Galaxy would be starting up in 10 minutes. She lay back as fatigue loosened its hold on her muscles. She was in for a good night’s sleep. The doorbell rang.
Anticipation that it might be Chuck made her lightheaded. One glance through the peephole and disppointment settled in the pit of her stomach like a stone. A delivery man. She opened the door. A large bouquet of mixed roses and a basket of chocolates. Hope, like a tiny butterfly, begin to flutter.
A card from Paulette Tamate. She had just been discharged from hospital. Logan’s chagrin was soon replaced by a flash of anger at Chuck. He was sadly mistaken if he expected her to go looking for him. Logan quickly checked herself, burning with shame. She was tarnishing Paulette’s gift by projecting her selfish expectations of Chuck on the gifts.
She returned to the living room to order Thai takeaway. Then she lay on the couch to watch TV. The doorbell shook her out of her slumber. The food was here. She opened the door and got the second surprise of the evening. French, Sedgewick, Burns, Chee and Naidu, stood on her porch, waving off the Thai delivery boy. They were all dressed to kill.
“Don’t worry, we paid for it,” Naidu crowed, brushing past with Logan.
Naidu looked like a character out of a sci-fi movie in her white leather dress, matching thigh high boots, and silvery makeup. Her fur-lined beige jacket reached the floor. Even Maggie French with her styled hair and expertly applied make, looked pretty and feminine. Only Sedgewick had the outrageous purple hair and an assortment of studs sticking out of various parts of her anatomy.
“Wow, you’re all dressed to the nines,” Logan ventured. “What’s the occasion?”
“We’re here for you, “Chee chimed. “You, my friend, are going out tonight.”
“I can’t, “Logan started to protest. “I’ve been working all day, I’m tired.”
“No excuses” Naidu chimed in. “We even brought you the dress.”
She held up a knee-length, strapless pale green dress with a wide bow tie belt. The women’s chatter drowned out Logan’s protests that she did not wear dresses.
Naidu and Sedgewick got to work, styling Logan’s hair and applying her makeup. French popped a champagne bottle open and got glasses for everyone. The women were in a celebratory mood. Not Logan though. They dragged her, still protesting, out of the house.
She got an even bigger surprise when she saw Shepherd behind the wheel of Burns’ SUV.
“I’m your designated driver for the evening,” he explained sheepishly.
French paid for dinner at the Rocks. Logan loosened up enough to enjoy hers
elf. Next, they went to the Blue Stiletto for a spot of rhythm and blues. Jamie Maddox staged an incredible show. For a tiny woman, she possessed a powerful set of lungs. She openly flirted with men as she sang, “I’m no twisted mama.” When her set ended and she joined them. The women were quite rowdy and boisterous.
“Last stop and we’re home, ladies,” Naidu called.
Logan was so engrossed in conversation with Jamie, she did not realise the car had come to a stop. When she recognised The Fisherman’s Hut, she turned to flee. The women hemmed her in and pushed her through the door. Chuck and his band were in full swing, the dance floor filled to capacity. Chuck’s raspy tenor belted out “Mustang Sally.”
The women took a table and got their drinks. Jamie and Sedgewick did not bother drinking.
“I came to dance, not drink,” Jamie crowed, dragging Sedgewick to the dance floor.
As usual, Naidu attracted her usual crop of admirers. When the band ended its set and the in-house deejay took over, Logan tried to make a run for it. The girls held her down as Naidu went to fetch Chuck.
He was just as reluctant. Naidu ignored his protests and brought him over.
“Logan, you need to get your head out of your arse and talk to this man,” she said firmly. “You’re miserable without each other.”
