Five Days of Darkness

by Greg Hall

  Henri gathered that this was probably purgatory, and he would remain here until everything was ready. What, he wasn’t quite sure. He tried to recall his last moments. The last thing he remembered was walking down a trail, closing in on the killer. He remembered the shack, but that was it. How did I get here? Henri thought.

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” a soft voice said from somewhere beyond the blackness.

  Henri tried to catch a glimpse of where the voice came from and he looked to every other boat, but each person on their own boat remained entranced by the glow.

  “Hello?” Henri called out. It came out hollow and deadened by the chasm around him.

  Henri’s eyes bounced onto every individual in neighboring boats, but their faces were different. At one moment he felt like he recognized each person, but then all of a sudden, they were strangers. As he called out, he hoped someone would look his way, but not a single person looked his way.

  A single siff was traveling against the steady stream of boats. Henri’s boat swayed back and forth as it approached. He turned toward the approaching skiff and locked eyes with its owner. It was Eli.

  His face was peaceful. Henri never saw this calm, happy boy who was in front of him now. The last image he had of Eli was his bloated body floating in the bayou. The thought still brought nightmares.

  “Father, it’s not your time,” Eli said. HIs voice was boyish. And as he spoke, the sound brought a smile to Henri’s face.

  “Where am I?” Henri asked, worried for the truth.

  “Modeste needs you.”

  Henri felt a tug of pain in his chest before he could respond to Eli. He grasped his chest with his right hand. He wanted to talk to Eli, but there was a strain in his throat that forced him to be silent. He wanted nothing more than to apologize to the boy. To acknowledge they let him down. To admit to Eli that he could have interfered with the bullies, and if he did, that Eli might still be alive.

  Henri was pulled closer to the light, boat and all. Henri turned back to Eli, but he was no part of the reflection of unrecognizable faces among the crowded bayou.

  “Eli!” Henri finally found the strength to call-out.

  The pain deepened inside of his chest. Henri thought his heart would. His boat kept swaying back and forth as it was pulled closer to the light. With his right hand still clutching his chest, he used his left hand to reach over the side of the boat. He tried to paddle back away from the light, but when his hand met the water, he discovered that it wasn’t water at all. He submersed his hand into the liquid, but his hand remained dry. It was as if his hand disappeared beyond the liquid.

  Henri inched closer and closer to the light. It began to blind him as he was within a few feet. He couldn’t see anything or anyone else around him. It was just him until finally, Henri was swallowed up by the light.

  23

  The shouting from the mob was enough to wake a hibernating bear.

  When Modeste first heard them, she knew something was wrong. She didn’t see Henri amongst the crowd, but she could hear David riling the crowd up. She waited for Franklin, and a few others, to come out so she could catch a glimpse of what was happening. She wanted to make sure she was safe with her peers.

  She managed to work her way through the forming crowd. Modeste spotted Henri’s unconscious body lying smack dab in town square. His arms and legs were tied, and it appeared as though he had been dragged. His clothing was ripped and torn, and his face was crusted with dirt.

  “There has been a Devil traveling across Louisiana. He has been wreaking havoc in town after town. I promised you I would find who took Malorie, and I have brought you this man,” David yelled, pointing toward Henri. “He was found with her lifeless body and the weapon that was used to murder her.”

  The crowd erupted into angered expressions of hatred toward Henri. Some tossed dirt on him; some even spit at him. No matter how much garbage was thrown his way, he never stirred.

  “That man is not the Devil!” Modeste screamed out over the mob. Only when their voices lowered did she realize how loud she had been.

  The mob parted ways, allowing David to catch a glimpse of the woman who was interrupting his speech.

  “He is a priest from Morrow. We have been traveling together in search of…” Her voice trailed off. She realized at that moment that she couldn’t tell them about the bloodsucker. No one would believe her, and not only would Henri hang, but she most likely would as well.

  “You have been traveling with this man?” David asks.

  Now, the crowd started to surround her. Modeste realized she was the only black person who had come over. She looked for help from Franklin, but he was nowhere in sight.

  “He tried to tell you. He tried to tell all of you. A killer is traveling along the line, but it is not that man. He has been trying to stop it.”

  “Sounds like we have a pair of hangings in the morning,” David said, flashing a cocky grin. “String her up.”

  Modeste waited for the rush of the mob to grab her. She waited for their hands to pull and tug at her clothing. She assumed she would hit the ground. Maybe her cane would break from someone standing on it, or it would be broken on purpose. She closed her eyes and waited for them to come.

  The mob never came.

  When she opened her eyes, she saw Franklin standing by her side. He was eye-locked with David. With Franklin by her side, no one made a move toward her. There was a silence that seemed to linger for far longer than Modeste could guess.

  Finally, the muffled sounds of the beaten man called out by David’s feet. Modeste watched as Henri appeared to come back to life right in front of her eyes. It took everything she had left to stop herself from running to help him.

  “He’s hurt. He needs help,” Modeste begged.

  “He doesn’t need anything. In the morning, he will be hanged,” David said solemnly. “Get him to James’s barn.”

  Modeste didn’t know who David was speaking to but noticed that a few men from the mob knew who he was talking about as they approached Henri and lifted him off the ground roughly that his feet were the only thing still touching the ground.

  Now none of the events of the previous night mattered. She no longer cared about the slave hunter. She no longer cared about the thing Henri had done to provoke her. All she wanted was for Henri to be okay. There was nothing she could do against the mob. There were too many, and not a single one of them would listen to her.

  There was only one thing Modeste could do; she would contact the Conjurer.

  24

  Henri woke up on a scratchy pile of hay. His head was pounding beyond belief. It felt like his brain was expanding, trying to break through his skull. It took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust to the light, and once they did, they felt like they were spinning. Then came aching nausea that came from the pounding head.

  He tried to recall the last thing that happened. He saw the forest, the room, and then falling away beneath and into darkness. He looked around the barn he found himself in. For a moment, he thought this was where he had fallen into.

  The barn was simple in its design. Hay stacked against the north wall. There were sets of rusted tools along the south wall. Someone had made a makeshift bed for Henri out of loose hay. His feet were tied together, and he only now realized that he was chained to a beam in the center timber beam. There were two windows, both with bars on the outside. Henri wondered if it was to keep things inside or out.

  “This is where James would bring them after he caught them,” a sinister voice called out from the door.

  Henri had his answer.

  “What am I doing here?” Henri called out, his voice hoarse. .

  “How many towns have you done this?” David said as he stepped into sight.

  “I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about.”

  “Malorie was just a child. A kid. Her life ended too soon. By a man of the cloth, no less.”

  “I did not kill her. I could never take
a life. We have been chasing the killer since Morrow. He has left a trail of bodies along the way.”

  “How many have you killed? How many!” David yelled, then sat down across from Henri.

  Henri rolled onto his side and tried to face David, but the movement brought pain rushing back. His head was pounding.

  “I don’t understand what is happening,” Henri cried. “I wasn’t the one who killed Malorie. We have been hunting the killer.”

  David took a seat down on a bale of hay and rested his elbows onto his knees. He gave Henri a fierce stare. “What don’t you understand? We found you lying beside her dead body. There was an axe lying on the ground in between you.”

  “I don’t know what happened.”

  “Malorie was a tough girl. Probably fought back in her final moments,” David said, as he leaned closer, “and you’re not going to get the chance to fight back in your final moments.”

  “I didn’t kill her. Please, send word to Morrow. Sheriff Malone is there investigating similar murders.” Henri said. He figured this small lie was okay. He needed David to realize that the monster was still out there.

  There wasn’t much room for Henri to move around, and luckily, they did spread out some hay on the ground for him. It crossed his mind that it might have been there for quite some time. He looked up to the bars on the window, and dread rushed over him. This makeshift prison might not only have been made for him.

  Henri was out of options, and all he could think about was how he let Modeste down. Had he listened to her in the first, he wouldn’t be in their predicament.

  “You’re a despicable human. You’re pretending to be a man of the cloth. Traveling through Louisiana with that thing out there,” David said, as he leaned in closer. “I’m going to hang her right beside you.”

  Hearing that caused Henri to panic. “No!” Henri yelled. The word came out surprisingly loud.] “Look, please, send a messenger to Randy. He knows what we are doing. He saw what the monster did in Morrow.”

  When he heard of how he was going to hang, it didn’t bother him, oddly, but when David spoke of hanging Modeste, a range of emotions rushed over him. He was full of anger, loathing, and finally, fear. Why wasn’t David listening to him, Henri thought. As a man of the cloth, he had never before felt such vitriol directed at him.

  It didn’t appear troubling, being caught seemingly red handed with the murder weapon and the dead body.

  Finally, David gave into curiosity. “Who’s Randy?”

  “The Sheriff of Landry.”

  “And why wasn’t he doing anything about this so-called monster if he knew about it?”

  “Because, until now, it had only killed black folk. Malorie was the first…” He didn’t want to continue. He never saw Malorie’s body, but he knew she must be dead. There was no other reason for him to be chained up and awaiting his death.

  Losing Malorie brought on sudden tears. Henri looked away and tried to blink them away. Tears weren’t going to help him now. He had to somehow get word to Modeste to make sure she left before David found her and made good on his promise to hang them both.

  “Your story doesn’t make sense. The killer was only targeting negroes?”

  “Please, reach out to Randy. He can provide all the clarity you need.”

  Henri watched as the gears slowly started to work in David’s head. The man was staring off at the wall as if he could see right through it. Maybe using the wall to plan his next steps. Henri couldn’t tell. In any event, Henri hoped his explanation was giving David some insight.

  “Right now, you are the only suspect. It’s your word against the evidence. There was no one else there, and you were found with the weapon and had her blood on your hands.”

  David was right. Henri knew this was a set-up. The murder weapon had been placed beside Henri’s unconscious body. The monster had disappeared into the night. Or maybe it waited in the darkness and watched the mob tie him up and drag him back to town. There was blood on Henri’s hands, but it was most likely his own. Above his temple, the opened wound had stopped bleeding, but Henri had used his hands and his shirt to help stop it.

  “If you hang me, you’ll be hanging an innocent man.”

  “My conscience is clean. I know what I saw in that shed,” David said.

  Henri had never heard anyone with such confidence. Even as a man of the cloth, Henri often found it difficult to differentiate between what was considered a sin. Murder or adultery were plain and simple. Then there were sins based on inaction and mortal sins that seemed to be readily justifiable among the brotherhood. These were the ones that forced Henri to question his faith.

  The men who believed wholeheartedly in what they were doing, without hesitation, were the ones who scared him the most.

  This wasn’t how Henri wanted to die. As a priest, he thought about death often. Not so much about how he would die, even though, like most, he hoped for the least amount of pain. He hoped that one night he would go to sleep and simply drift away. Or maybe sitting on a bench in front of his garden and having one final look. A painful death scared him. He hated the idea of anyone suffering, but more than anything, he didn’t want his last moments to be filled with pain and anguish.

  “What do I have to do for you to leave Modeste alone?” Henri asked.

  “Confess,” David replied immediately.

  Henri should have seen that coming. Although David was confident in his accusation, having a written confession would help justify his decision, Henri thought. The man wasn’t as certain of his decision as Henri first thought.

  “May I have a pen and paper?”

  “Are you going to confess?’

  “You want a confession? I will write it out for you,” Henri said, unsure what good that would do, but at least it might be him some time.

  David flashed a grin. It appeared as though the man was glowing with happiness. A sort of bragging moment for the self-proclaimed mayor of Bunkie.

  Henri couldn’t help but think that his life really could end the next day. With David running the show, his body would probably be displayed for the entire town to see. The tears came back, but this time, Henri didn’t force them back. He let them fall.

  “Boys,” David called out to a door behind him. “Get the rope ready. We’re going to have a couple hangings in the morning.”

  Finally, the realization hit Henri hard. Fear rushed over him. He had pushed his only friend away and now he was alone, wasting away in the cell, until the morning.

  Then his life was going to end.

  25

  As Modeste worried about Henri, she thought back to her daughter. The thoughts brought a smile to her face. But this thought was the one that usually kept her awake at night.

  Tiara was peacefully asleep.

  Modeste always watched from the doorway as her daughter fell asleep. It was such a peaceful sight. No matter the stress Modeste was under, watching over her daughter at the end of the day lifted all the weight of her shoulders. She hoped that Tiara would never have to experience the hardships that she faced daily.

  She loved her daughter more than anything and constantly worried about the level of hate Tiara would face every day. If there were a way to protect her from it all, Modeste wouldn’t hesitate to do it.

  Tiara’s father disappeared soon after she was born. It wasn’t considered odd, as that sort of thing happened more than people spoke about. Where they were living at the time, it wasn’t unheard of for black men to disappear without a trace. The rare times clues could be found usually indicating some sort of message and only if the victim had time to leave it.

  The same song played on the fiddle called out from the Bakay place down the road. Music helped to put Tiara to sleep and lessened Modeste’s stress.

  Modeste left Tiara’s door open to let the lamp’s light comfort Tiara. They had begun having nightmares just a week earlier. When Tiara was able to describe her dreams to Modeste, she said a voice would call out to her. The voice would
call out her name from outside. One night, after Tiara had woken from a nightmare, she peeked out her window and saw a shadow watching from behind their broken fence. Her screams were loud enough to stir Modeste from her slumber. When Modeste came to the room, Tiara was in a panicked sweat. Her hands were shaking, and it took Modeste a couple of hours to calm her.

  Marie taught Modeste about the monsters and supernatural beings that were created by mistakes by the Conjurer. One thing in particular was known as a bloodsucker. It would travel the lands at night and call to those who would listen. It had a particular love for the young ones. There was something about youth that attracted the bloodsuckers. The bloodsuckers lived longer than humans, and Modeste wondered if it had something to do with the blood that they consumed.

  Modeste and Tiara lived in the French quarter, with the people of color living with the rest of the Cajuns. After Robert Charles fatally shot a white officer during an altercation, a riot broke out causing areas of white population to attack the black population. Although the riots ended, tensions were still high. Most of the victims were men, but Modeste always worried that Tiara or her would be caught at the wrong place at the wrong time.

  Rumors had been spreading through New Orleans about a monster that was talking to the children at night. Some children said the monster was asking to come inside their house, asking them to let him in. Most people thought this was just a typical nightmares, but once the first child went missing, parents started to believe it. More and more children disappeared. Sheriffs were notified, and they increased their patrols at night, but then some of the sheriffs disappeared.

  When Tiara started having nightmares, Modeste worried that the monster was looking for her. She knew as long as the monster wasn’t invited in, both of them would be safe. She made sure to let Tiara fall asleep first, while Modeste would watch over. She didn’t sleep much herself, as she wanted to remain as close to Tiara as possible.