Order of the Black Sun Box Set 6

by Preston William Child

  She turned to face Lisa and her reply bore raw truth. “Oh my God, that smells divine, Lisa! I would love a piece. Thank you.”

  “Sure. I made it myself, straight from my great grandmother's recipe book. Handwritten and all, so it was kind of an ode to her to make a pan of these,” the girl with the nerdy glasses explained.

  Other than her poor choice of eye wear, Lisa was a drop-dead gorgeous young lady who could give any Polish supermodel a good run. With some toil she managed to load a slice onto the lid of the lunch tin she was storing it in and passed it over the seat to Joanne, who eagerly received it. Only halfway through her first bite of the delicious confectionery, Joanne had to swallow quickly to deal with the barrage of questions from the teenager about the trip, about Joanne's brand of cell phone, what music she enjoyed, and why she was still single.

  Vexed that she could not consume the delicious pastry with the slow veneration it deserved, Joanne finally cut Lisa short. “Listen, love, I didn’t arrange this trip and, quite honestly, I’m enjoying this little bit of peace while everyone is knocked out.”

  “I get it. Sorry, ma'am,” Lisa apologized, instantly making Joanne feel terribly guilty for her tone. She hadn’t been outwardly rude, but just the fact that she’d basically told the friendly teen to shut up felt a bit harsh. “It’s okay, really, Miss Earle. No worries. I was just making conversation to stay awake.”

  “Why would you want to stay awake? This is one boring bus ride,” Joanne smiled, grateful for the chance to make up for her snappy comment.

  Lisa looked a bit embarrassed, reluctant to answer at first. “I don't know how to say this, but I’ve been having bad dreams and if I sleep on the bus I might wake up screaming.”

  “I have nightmares often too, love,” Joanne comforted her, as Lisa rested her arms on the back of her teacher's seat to prop her chin on. She sighed hopelessly and her eyes examined Joanne's keenly.

  “But mine come true.”

  5

  Nothing Remains Buried

  The second day on the bus was about all Joanne could take of the joys of a road trip. Although the kids were no burden and the noise levels remained relatively low throughout most of it, she was getting tired of sitting on her plump ass, waiting for adventure.

  “Where is The Rock today? He didn't eat with us last night. All I saw of him was his Landy parked in front of the motel. But no sign of him…”

  “He told the bus driver that he was going to skip dinner with us and get an early night because he wasn't feeling well,” Pam gossiped quietly. “I bet he wanted to get some quality time in with some cable porn, right?” She chuckled and winked, rousing Joanne's mean sense of humor that she so willingly flaunted when certain individuals peeved her.

  “A bit of alone time is good for everyone every now and again,” Joanne jested with glee. When the two childish thirty-odd-year-old spinsters were done having a laugh at Jacques Spence’s expense, Joanne asked, “But we haven't seen him driving behind the bus since about two hours ago.”

  “I know,” Pam replied rather morosely. “Maybe he pulled over, or God forbid, something happened to his car. Shall I give him a buzz, you think?”

  “Rather, just to make sure, I think,” Joanne affirmed.

  “We’re here, people!” the bus driver exclaimed, stirring up a bustle of remarks and cheer from the teenagers. They all leaned over to the windows to see and started packing up their phones and snacks.

  Happy Valley – Goose Bay was more than Joanne could have hoped for. While enduring the road there from Churchill Falls, she’d envisioned a rundown old ghost town with a few fishing bait shops and huts along a single main road where the locals sat on the stoop and stared. But she was in awe of what the small town really looked like when the bus finally halted to let them get their feet on a motionless floor.

  Pam and Joanne stepped off the bus, taking in their surroundings with a sense of tranquility neither had expected. Pam rested her hand on Joanne's shoulder. “Look at that scenery!”

  “I know, right?” Joanne smiled. “I hate to be wrong, as you know, but I’m elated to be wrong this time. Coming out here on this camp was worth it a million times over.”

  “Then I will reserve my need to say I told you so,” Pam winked before she exclaimed to the dispersing and curious teenagers. “Guys, stick together please! Don't wander off too far. We’re just waiting for Mr. Spence and then we’ll carry on to the cabins.”

  The two ladies marveled at the pretty little town, a tourist paradise they intended to enjoy over the weekend. Rightly so, too. As teachers responsible for the physical welfare of their students, they’d spent an enormous amount of extra time lecturing on good sports nutrition and volunteering for extramural activities and gymnasium instruction, even when they were not expected to. This field trip was the last on the list for the year, and the reason Pam had implored the principal to allocate funds for this particular area around Goose Bay.

  Past the welcome sign at the entrance of the town there was an ocean of trees, tall and dark green, populating the rise and fall of the hills and meadows. The close vicinity to the coast gave it a spatial air that the group did not have in Labrador City inland. Eventually, after fifteen minutes that felt like a mere forty-five seconds, the banged up, dark blue Land Rover belonging to the ailing swimming coach showed up. He drove past the bus and the congregation of teens at a very slow speed, his window rolled down, and his swarthy, muscular arm dangling from it.

  “Just follow me, guys!” he smiled, making sure to slow down even more so they had time to get into the bus before they lost sight of him.

  “Get in! Get in!” Joanne cried, and all the students made their way to their seats in time to follow Mr. Spence's vehicle towards the scenic Lac Seul, where they would spend the next two days of the long weekend. Joanne was finally excited about it, but as they drove off into the beauteous wilderness she could not help but feel that same breath of dread she’d been suppressing even after young Lisa shared the same sentiment the night before.

  The two vehicles roared down the meandering road and were swallowed up by the dark trees on their way to the lake where their cabins awaited. By now the engines were running hot and the gasoline was running low, but this didn’t trouble the group, as they were scheduled to go on a light hike as soon as they had moved their light luggage into their respective rooms. That was the part Joanne and Pam looked forward to the most. It would be good to get some leg stretching done after a two-day road trip to reach the Canadian gem huddled by the mysterious guard of giant firs and pines.

  “Just be careful,” Mr. Spence reminded everyone after they’d arrived. “It’s bear hunting season.”

  “It’s always bear hunting season, sir,” the rambunctious and comical Nathan exclaimed from the small group of students. “Bears hunt all year round. I don't think they got the e-mail that told them when the season ends.”

  Joanne and Pam laughed at the boy's creative twist on a very serious announcement. His classmates giggled and shoved him around, but Mr. Spence paid no attention as he continued, “And none of you are allowed to venture off without the entire group. And I mean none of you.” His beady dark eyes peeked out from under his overdeveloped brow, leering straight at the two female teachers. “We all move, accompanied by at least four others at all times. There are hunters in the woods, wild animals are everywhere and trust me, none of you can outrun them!” Clasping his great hands together, he smiled at last, “Other than that, enjoy yourselves and relax this weekend. You have all earned it and I will be happy to take you guys out on the lake sometime tomorrow for some fishing or swimming, alright?”

  “I feel like we have to applaud or something,” Pam whispered to Joanne as the haughty coach finished his sermon of rules and warnings. Joanne just smiled, hoping he would not detect his two female colleagues’ ridicule. The students dispersed lazily, lugging their bags along to their designated rooms. Mr. Spence did not utter another word. He just unpacked his macho vehicl
e before the midday hike they would soon embark on before dinner.

  As the cold hand of the imminent evening took hold of Lac Seul and its surrounding natural beauty, the trees began to whisper over the small group of visitors from Labrador City. They moved swiftly, challenging each others' nerves or fitness according to the intimidating loneliness of the forest. At the helm were the more athletic students, followed by Mr. Spence. Behind him, Nathan and the other less capable movers slouched along, chatting and taking pictures. At the tail-end the two ladies, Miss Parsons and Miss Earle, strolled, discussing dinner.

  “Only up to that valley entrance, you all, and then we have to turn around and head back to camp!” Mr. Spence commanded reassuringly. “There is a nice meal we still have to prepare and we still have to make the fire for it.”

  “Why the rush, sir?” Lisa asked, looking at him over the edge of her Galaxy, still sounding of the shutter.

  “Didn't you hear the coach?” Nathan panted as his plump legs ached under him. “The bears are hunting.”

  Rolling her eyes at Nathan's repetitive joke, she dismissed him and took another picture. It was a stunning photograph, she reckoned, capturing the panorama of emerald foliage and distinct tree bark to their left. “Wow,” she said as she composed the picture just right for a snap. She could hear Mr. Spence answer her, “Because we cannot be in the woods after dark, Lisa. And if we don’t turn back now we won’t make it back before sundown.”

  “Okay,” she smiled at him, and proceeded to zoom in on an especially lavish patch of ethereal greenery that reminded her of a perfect kingdom of fairies from those old obscure books of folklore. “Now that is a perfect picture,” she mumbled as her fingertip wavered, waiting for the high definition screen to sharpen. “Pink blossoms among the ferns this time of year? I bet nobody has even noticed.”

  Lisa zoomed in some more so that she could identify the type of flower, but what she thought were pink blossoms were nothing of the sort. She frowned. Her senses changed. Some, like her hearing, dampened considerably, leaving the group's chatter behind in a distant hum. Her sight sharpened to confirm her suspicion of what she thought she saw, while her physical sense of touch assimilated into her intuitive sixth sense. Erect on her arms and her neck, the hair tugged at her skin in waves of disbelief.

  “Miss Earle?” she stammered, discovering that even her speech was out of place. “M-miss...Miss Earle! Miss Earle!” Her lids fluttered as she whispered weakly, “My nightmare, it has come true.”

  “Yes, Lisa,” she heard somewhere far away in a dream. Lisa's nostrils sucked in stiff tufts of air, becoming dangerously rapid as her eyes affirmed more and more the grisly vision in her phone's viewfinder. The young woman's heart started to race as, one by one, her senses revealed the truth. Around Lisa the world began to spin. Her ears hissed and she felt the ground under her soles neglect her, sinking and rocking. With her last bit of strength she pushed out her breath in a cry.

  “Miss Earle!”

  “Yes, Lisa!” Joanne's voice suddenly sobered her. The teacher stood right behind her, grabbing her by the arms to steady her. “My God, child, what is wrong? What is wrong? You are white as a sheet! Are you okay? Pam! Lisa is fainting!”

  Slurring from the confusion of her hissing brain, Lisa tried to explain. Her body felt like an anvil as she leaned hard against the history teacher. “Miss Earle, I-I think...just...look at the picture. Look at my picture, will you?” she almost shouted in fear of passing out before she could point it out.

  “Alright, alright,” Joanne soothed her, and she took the phone from the girl. By this time Mr. Spence and his athletic followers had joined the gathering where Lisa first stood to take her picture.

  “What is it, Pam? Joanne?” he asked as he craned his head over Joanne to see the image.

  “Jesus!” Joanne exclaimed in awe and terror. She held up the screen to the other two teachers. “Please tell me that is not real.”

  On scrutiny, Pam inhaled sharply and looked away. Mr. Spence winced, “I hate to be that guy, Joanne, but that looks pretty real to me. Let me go investigate. Stay here.”

  Wading through thick forest growth and thorn-bearing branches, he braved his way towards the pink fabric that was decorating the ghastly collection of bones under the umbrella of low growing plants. He stopped short of the scene and turned to the reluctant audience who waited for his verdict. Jacques Spence just nodded contritely, marking the spot until Joanne reached him. She had instructed Pam and the students to go back to camp and contact the local authorities.

  “Oh my God, Jacques,” Joanne said softly as her eyes surveyed the skeletal remains of what appeared to have been a woman. What was left of a pink and white blouse strained over protruding white rib bones, the material ripped and disintegrated by decades of weather and elements.

  “She must have been here for ages,” he remarked. “Look. See how brittle her bone structure is, porous? She has been lying here for a very long time, and it is no wonder.” He pointed to a nearby pond in the moist forest floor. “Looks like she was underground, mostly, until the annual sediment shifts over every winter's thaw scraped the earth away.”

  “It is true, then,” Joanne nodded quietly, kneeling beside the poor woman's remains. “All secrets are eventually unearthed. Nothing stays hidden from the truth forever.”

  The handsome swimming coach stared at the history teacher with a measure of admiration.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing. Just…you didn’t strike me as the poetic type.” He shrugged amicably.

  Joanne looked back down at the unfortunate and forgotten corpse as she heard the camp administrator and local law enforcement arrive. As Jacques relayed to them what they had discovered, she saw something very peculiar in the mummified tissue of the chest that gathered up under the protective bone stockade of the sternum. Checking that nobody else had noticed, Joanne quickly inspected the tangled corpse for any other traces of strange objects, other than the mud-covered golden medallion she’d found inside the dead woman's tissue.

  With no time for further examination, the history teacher scooped up the artifact and slid it into her hoodie's front pouch. No sooner had she done so when Jacques turned around to point at the horrible find without noticing Joanne's keen sleight of hand in procuring the ancient trinket.

  6

  Oban's Organist

  Nina's nerves had been rattled by the preacher's revelation, of that there was no doubt. After she’d assured him that she would not go home without reliable company, she drove to the market for groceries, as had been her intention before Father Harper had showed up. Yet, she could not conduct her business in a relaxed and collected way. She forgot half of the stuff she was supposed to buy for the house just because she was so preoccupied with taking note of every single person she encountered.

  Could it be this one? Or that one? Is this the one Father Harper saw? Her eyes darted up every now and then to briskly examine those close to her, those on the other side of the shopping center, and anyone even looking in her direction. The paranoia was overwhelming, so she elected to go home where she could hide, a place where she would at least see him coming, whoever he was.

  Against her better judgment, Nina took her half-assed shopping goods and got in her car to go home; there where nobody could help if things went wrong, there where she was isolated from public view. She would normally call Sam, but he was abroad. Calling Purdue would be dangerous for him, and futile for her while he was in hiding. Regrettably Purdue's face was too well-known for him not to be detected in public. This left Nina without a choice. She would have to confront whomever it is following her…alone.

  When she stopped in her driveway, everything looked disturbingly normal. In all the time since she’d moved into the house on Dunuaran Road, she hadn’t once felt this compelled to revise her security measures.

  “I need a goddamn fence, a tall one at that,” she said to herself as she sat in her stationary car with the doors locked,
surveying her property. “And a dog. No, two dogs…Rottweilers…and a security camera on every bloody corner of my house.”

  Maybe a husband would come in handy.

  “No,” she protested out loud, stretching her slender fingers out like sun rays while her palms still rested on the wheel. A sharp sound startled her, sending her body backwards into her seat. “Jesus!”

  Her phone was set on outdoor, so that she would hear it ringing while it was raining down in sheets. But now the rain had subsided and she sitting in a quiet car, making the ringtone sound like the advent of Doomsday to poor Nina's edgy nerves.

  “Hello?” she stammered.

  Hissing static came over the speaker with an almost imperceptible voice saying something in the background. The words were so faint that Nina could not even discern if it was male or female. It frightened her. Adrenaline coursed through her body as she scrutinized the area around her for any suspicious movement, but she could see no strangers or anything that seemed out of place. Just for good measure she hung up and switched off her phone.

  “God, where are you when I need you, Purdue? Where are you when I need to get rid of my phone's global location system?” she sighed, lodging her hand in her moist, dark hair. She needed her phone to keep in touch with Purdue and Sam, but now it had become a window, bare of curtains, for the world to look through and see her. It had become a homing device for her enemies, still she had to keep it on her at all times because it was also her only life line if things went wrong – a necessary evil.

  After over a half hour she got out of her car, trying to look oblivious to any threat. Unpacking her back seat, she constantly checked her driveway, but there was nothing. At last Nina started to wonder if perhaps the clergyman had been mistaken, prompting her to be overly vigilant. Maybe he said that on purpose to scare her back to the faux safety of church, who knows?