by Catie Rhodes
I latched onto his life force with no problem. Oscar never even felt my presence. He was enjoying terrorizing me too much. I gave his energy a hard pull.
All my aches and pains went away. I drank in the energy like the finest of gourmet meals. It was ironic. Oscar himself taught me this trick.
Oscar, on the other end, slowed. He had a hard time holding onto his horse. He began to slide off the back of his saddle. He realized what I’d done at the last second.
“You cheating little coward,” he bellowed as he crashed to the ground.
Oscar rolled onto his back, so furious his spirit seemed a red ball of hate. With the last of the magic holding him together, he drew a hollowed out cow horn from his belt, held it to his lipless mouth, and exhaled into it. The instrument emitted a long, eardrum-shattering blast.
I jerked in shock at the eardrum rattling noise and popped back into my own consciousness. Oscar’s warriors dropped away from the car like magic. As abruptly as they’d come, our pursuers were gone, leaving behind only a few disagreeable grumbles of thunder. I broke my connection with Oscar, and hung on in the back seat, panting. Tubby sped into the night.
The energy I’d gained from the Hag, Corman, and Oscar congealed in me like a greasy meal, their evil nauseating me. The fatigue rolled back worse than ever. I slumped onto the seat.
Hannah peeked around the side of her bucket seat. “What can I do for you?”
“Leave me be,” I groaned.
Hannah reached out to touch me but drew back. She turned around and began arguing with Tubby. I lay on the back seat sweating and shivering as my magic tried to process three doses of pure evil. Hannah’s and Tubby’s argument turned to conversation. The rise and fall of their voices felt warm and comfortable. I quit paying attention.
I must have dozed. The next thing I knew, the car slowed and gravel cracked under the wheels. I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and took my first look at Cecil’s bug-out plan.
My stomach sank. I had expected to see a middle-of-nowhere motel. Maybe a house. But darkness reigned supreme in this place. Tubby’s headlights splashed over two darkened buildings. He turned in front of one and let the car roll to a stop.
The weak glow from the headlights illuminated a dilapidated wooden building. Judging by the unreadable sign above the boarded over front door, it had been a business at some point. Now it seemed empty. Both its dark windows and its empty parking lot indicated disuse.
“Damn. I think we got the wrong place, y’all. This don’t look like nothing.” Tubby glanced back at me. My tough, tough friend’s face pinched with worry.
I didn’t know what to say. Had Cecil given us the wrong coordinates?
My great-uncle had been sick, very sick, since a bad episode with his heart a couple of months earlier. But he hadn’t been forgetful. He’d seemed distracted more than anything.
A figure came around the side of the building, face in shadow. Tubby flashed one skinny arm back, grabbed the shotgun, and was out of the car with it before I could move.
“This is Thomas Tubman,” he yelled. “I’m looking for Cecil Gregg…or Gregson…aw shit, I don’t know. He’s an old dude…”
The figure put its hands up. Cecil said, a smile in his voice, “I’m Cecil Gregory today. But I might be Cecil Gregg tomorrow.”
Cecil loved playing with variations of the name Gregg and had fake IDs in just about every version imaginable. Now I realized the name dated way, way back in our family. Back to the Gregorius Witch. Cecil came closer and leaned into the car, eyes finding mine. He nodded, satisfied, and stood up straight.
“Pull the car around back of this next building. Get it out of sight.” Cecil waved his arm in the direction he wanted Tubby to go.
Tubby got back into the car. Hannah and I climbed out, laden with sacks of cheap clothes and toiletries. Cecil hurried to me and grabbed me in a tight hug. He drew back and kissed first one cheek and then the other. He did the same to Hannah.
“What happened to you kids? We’ve been worried.” He took my arm and led me away.
“What didn’t happen?” Hannah muttered.
“Remember Corman Tolliver from Gaslight City?” I pulled out my cigarettes and lit one.
Cecil pulled it out of my hand and dragged on it. “That little asshole you should have killed and didn’t?”
My face heated. I was glad nobody could see it. “He forced us off the road, made Tubby hit a tree. We ended up having a shoot-out with them.”
“Kill him this time?” Cecil handed back the cigarette.
“Nope. All I had a chance to do was drain his energy.” I trudged along, waiting for my scolding.
Cecil gave me a sideways glance but said nothing. Thank fate for small favors.
“Then those assholes from the RV park attacked us again,” Hannah said.
Cecil stopped in his tracks. “And you’re still in one piece?”
“I did something bad to Oscar. Took his energy, made him fall off his horse. He blew his horn, and they left.” Fatigue ached in my back.
Cecil led us around the side of the building that I guessed had once been a business. He opened a door and motioned us through.
The interior of the building was a far cry from the run down exterior. The door opened on a large, well-lit kitchen. The cabinets, stove, and refrigerator had seen better days, but looked in working order. The windows had been blacked out.
Every set of eyes turned to us. Zora and Zander, the only children to survive the attack, ran to us, both of them hugging our legs. Hannah and I greeted them with as much enthusiasm as we could muster.
Brad came to me next. He pulled me into a tight hug and held on for a beat longer than was necessary. Poor guy. He’d probably just realized what he married into. Brad let me go and slumped back to Jadine, who had an array of candy, soft drinks, and cigarettes spread out before her. She even had one of those candy necklaces around her neck. At least Brad loved his wife enough to stop at a convenience store as they ran for their lives and buy her junk food.
Shelly came over to rummage through the bags in my arms. “Did you buy the underwear I requested?”
I put down the bag, fished out the ones in Shelly’s size, and handed them to her.
She pursed her lips at the package. “Discount Dilettante brand, I see.”
“Puleeze. This is Bargain Babes brand.” It had taken time to catch onto Shelly’s humor, but the effort had been worth it. She filled a maternal role I had missed.
Shelly dug through the sacks until she had toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, and a towel. “Let me give you the grand tour now. I’m going down for the count as soon as I get clean.”
I grabbed the sack of things Hannah and I had picked out for ourselves and followed Shelly out of the kitchen. The next room, large and open, contained stacks of sealed, unlabeled boxes. A few months ago, I’d have wanted to know what they contained. Now I knew not to ask.
The wall behind the boxes, which should have faced the street, had been covered with plywood, blocking the windows. No wonder it appeared dark from the road.
Shelly motioned us through the mess, speaking over her shoulder. “Welcome to the Snake Creek Hotel.”
She led the way up the stairs, which opened into a long hallway lined with closed doors on each side.
“Snake Creek?” Hannah made a face.
“Yep.” Shelly motioned us along. “The hotel was established in 1898, when the town of Snake Creek got its post office. The town dried up during World War II.”
Shelly opened the door to a long, narrow bathroom. “The Snake Creek Hotel dates back to the days when travelers expected to share a bathroom. This is the only one.”
She left the door standing open and led us three doors down and across the hall. She used a key to unlock it. “This room is for you girls.”
Hannah pushed open the door, revealing a room empty except for two cots. Neither had sheets or a pillow. Hannah arranged her face into her old almost-famous, over-bright smile.
“Papaw and I don’t know what to do about Tubman.” Shelly said. “We hate to ask him to leave. We hate to ask him to stay downstairs with the boxes. That’s a lackey’s job. Tubby’s…almost one of us.” She shrugged.
“You mind if he stays with us?” I asked Hannah and hastened to add, “He’ll behave if we’re firm.”
“I know how to handle Tubby Tubman.” Hannah’s casual statement spoke volumes about months of her life I didn’t want to contemplate. She walked into the room and pulled another cot, this one still folded, away from the wall. I hadn’t even seen it. I helped her open it. Shelly watched from the door.
“If you’re set, I’m going to shower. I recommend you two do the same before the men nasty up the restroom.” Shelly hurried down the hall, went into the bathroom, and closed the door.
Hannah shut the door separating our room from the hallway. I opened the sack holding our toiletries and discount clothes, and we began splitting up what we had. Someone knocked. I got up to answer the door. Tubby, struggling with my witch trunk and backpack, stood outside the door.
“Looks like I’m bunking with you two. We gonna have a threesome?” He grinned.
Hannah giggled. I stared at her in surprise. She used to loathe that kind of humor from men. She shook her head at me and shrugged. She had a point. It was best just to take Tubby as he came. I helped Tubby get my witching supplies into the room. We put them on the dusty floor underneath the blacked out window.
Tubby faced me and sighed. “I take it you ain’t tried at all to get in touch with Tanner Letts?”
I shook my head, too tired to answer.
Tubby sat down on his cot and stared at his filthy, worn out sneakers. “Tanner and me ain’t made friends, but you need to call him.”
I glanced at Hannah. She shrugged.
“Tanner’s a bad son of a bitch when he goes to war, and we need help.” She gave me an apologetic smile.
Outside our door, footsteps approached. Someone rapped three times, and Shelly’s voice came through the old wood.
“Peri Jean, I’m done with the restroom. Take your turn if you’re going to.” Shelly's footsteps receded.
I grabbed a few toiletries and hurried out of the room. It was easier than explaining to two of the toughest people I knew that I was afraid to call Tanner. He might tell me to get bent.
7
In the restroom, alone, I put the lid down on the toilet and sat. I took out my phone and stared at Tanner’s contact information. I ached to speak with him. He had said to call if I needed him. If this didn’t qualify, I don’t know what did. But, boy, it hurt my pride. Before I could change my mind, I tapped his name and then “call.”
On the other end, the phone rang once and cut off before that ring could finish. A message came on telling me that number was unavailable and invited me to leave a message. I listened, stunned, and did something I never would have believed I’d do.
“Tanner, it’s me. Oscar Rivera is back and worse than ever. I…need you.” I hung up before I could say more and took my shower.
I scrubbed my body with shaking hands, adrenaline still pumping. Calling in reinforcements didn’t bug me. But Tanner telling me to call if I needed him and then not answering got under my skin.
My oversized pride stung and twisted. I could just imagine Tanner listening to the message and rolling his gorgeous eyes. Maybe even making fun of me to Dave and Neecie. But then he’d help. Tanner was too decent to refuse to help.
I listened for the phone’s ring and even cut short my shower because I thought I heard it. Soon as my hands were dry, I picked up my phone and checked it for missed calls. Nothing. I emerged from the bathroom rubbing my hair with a stiff discount store towel.
Cecil leaned against the opposite wall, smoking a cigarette.
“Call Mysti Whitebyrd. Tell her we need her help and will pay.” He turned and walked away without waiting for my answer.
I didn’t want to call Mysti. My mentor had risked herself to help me so many times. It embarrassed me to keep asking. She probably thought I was the world’s slowest learner.
But I had no other ideas about what to do next. As things stood, Oscar would keep attacking until he wore us down. I didn’t have the magical umph to kill him outright.
Cecil’s willingness to pay Mysti testified to the urgency of our situation. My uncle kept a tight fist on his wallet and avoided paying whenever he could. He wouldn’t tell me to call Mysti if he saw another option. Cecil, who met life’s twists and turns with stoic defiance, was afraid. Terror tightened my chest, closed my throat.
I took out my phone. My hand shook so hard I dropped it. I let the shakes take me. The panic subsided as quickly as it came. I picked up my phone off the floor and called Mysti’s number. She answered, breathless. “Peri Jean? Oscar just attacked us. He might be heading your way…”
I cut her off. “He’s already gotten me twice tonight. Destroyed everything I had.” I rubbed at the headache throbbing in the back of my neck. “What happened on your end?”
“We’re on a job in San Antonio. Or were. They tore the roof off our hotel. Killed our client.” A car door clunked in the background.
“How’d you make them leave?” I asked.
She was silent several beats. When she spoke, her voice had lost most of its strength. “We escaped while they killed our client.”
The Mysti I knew liked to win. Running must have hurt her pride something terrible. I hurt for my friend, sad I had called to ask for more help.
“Cecil wants you to come here and help us. He said he’d pay.” I went into my room to find Tubby lying on his bunk, feet crossed, playing with his phone. Hannah had her back to him, legs tucked under her. Probably asleep. Or ignoring him so he wouldn’t drive her crazy.
Mysti sighed on the other end of the line. Also unlike her. Most of the time, she was eager to help.
“But you don’t have to,” I said quickly.
“No. We’re coming. But after what just happened, I wonder how much help we’ll be.” Her voice changed to her usual brisk tone. “There’ll be no fee since we’re fighting together. Where are you?”
I texted her the GPS coordinates. “When you get here, drive around to the back of the building next to the hotel. There’s a place to hide your vehicle.”
“Under deep cover, are we?” Mysti laughed. Despite everything I’d seen and experienced, I joined her. When she stopped laughing, Mysti said, “How are things with Tanner?”
“He left yesterday for California. Supposedly on business. But I think we’re done.” The memory of the way Tanner’s phone went straight to voicemail floated to the forefront of my mind, and something new occurred to me. Usually it would ring several times before it rolled to voicemail. He’d deliberately ignored my call.
“Really? He seemed so into you.” Mysti’s voice rose in surprise.
“Win some, lose some. Right?” I tried to sound cheerful, but my voice wavered on the last word.
Mysti changed the subject. “We’re going to find somewhere to rest tonight, but we’ll be there first thing in the morning.”
“There’s cots but no sheets and one bathroom for everybody.” I laid down on my cot, which shrieked in protest.
“Understood.” Mysti hung up.
Tubby put down his phone and turned to me. “What if I come over there with you? Help you make that cot squeak.”
As Hannah had done, I turned my back to him and tucked my legs under. It was the only defense. Tubby talked to my back a little, the suggestions more and more pornographic until he began to snore softly.
I lay staring at the wall, thoughts buzzing. Every once in a while, one of them swooped down and stung me.
Oscar and his soldiers blazing out of the sky like gods on a rampage. I replayed those horrific seconds of watching people I’d cared about die. I examined every detail of the attack. The wild screams and victorious
shouts. The galloping horses with their red eyes. The wild dogs ripping and tearing people to shreds. The ghostly motorcycles roaring around. All those people who hated my guts.
Oscar rode through my head on his gray horse, sword brandished. I picked apart every detail. The headdress. The way Oscar himself seemed to be made of bone and metal with no flesh. The way they all died but then got up to fight again.
My stomach clenched in dread. They’d be back. That was the worst part. Because there was no way to beat Oscar. I didn’t have the power or the knowledge.
Priscilla could talk all she wanted about shedding the scar tissue spell and gaining my destiny. I didn’t see it happening in time. Not after all I’d tried. Everything I did thinned it, but nothing made it completely go away. What else was there for me to try?
The Wanderer. Both Cecil and Queenie acted as though he was the answer. But I’d seen Queenie’s tarot reading firsthand, watched her tap that Death card and say the Wanderer wouldn’t intercede until I died and was ready for rebirth. Those baptisms of fire would likely kill me. Then Oscar would take my magical core, kill what remained of my loved ones, and summon hell on earth.
I don’t know when I slept, but I woke to an empty room. Both Hannah and Tubby had risen and left me to sleep. I climbed out of the cot and did a few aching toe touches. My bones cracked. I shed last night’s cheap pajamas and put on jeans and a plain black T-shirt. I fished in the pockets of yesterday’s filthy clothes for my smokes, my roll of antacids, and the odd little hag’s heart. Shoving them into the pockets of my stiff, new jeans, I went looking for human life.
Cecil and Shelly sat at a long folding table in the kitchen, picking at eggs and bacon. An empty coffee carafe sat between them. I grabbed it on the way past, filled it at the sink, and began coffee. Once it was brewing, I sat down at the table and acknowledged them with a nod.
“Queenie called from Mexico City to see how things were going. When I told her, she appealed to the Wanderer to see you. He still refuses.” Cecil’s words blew away some of my pre-coffee haze.
