by J. E. Taylor
“I see you found her. That’s good.” The phone muffled again as Bill put his hand over the receiver and asked Tracy to fix him a sandwich.
Steve saw red as he listened to the silence, imagining Tracy walking into the kitchen out of earshot. Moments later a small chuckle came over the phone line.
“I can’t wait to fuck her,” Bill taunted.
Steve roared and pitched the phone across the room, where it shattered against the concrete. He paced like a caged lion, muttering ream after ream of curses, the fury radiated from him, filling the room, with his echoing rant.
Chapter 36
“Who are you going to fuck?” Tracy asked standing in the doorway to the kitchen.
Bill closed the phone, his smile fading. “What?” he asked, scrambling for an answer.
“You heard me—who are you going to fuck?”
Bill stormed inside and put his hand over her mouth. “Stop yelling,” he snapped in disgust.
Tracy’s eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open under his hand.
He’d never treated her that way before, and confusion and fear filled her eyes. For a moment, he recoiled, dropping his hand. Then the nuance of change in her eyes, transitioning from fear to fury fueled his ego, thrilling him as much as Jennifer’s pleas had.
“Who?”
Bill tossed around whether to answer her or not, and decided it would be worth it to see her reaction. “Jennifer.”
“Jennifer who?” Tracy snapped.
“Your roommate,” Bill grinned and he actually saw the click in her eyes when everything fell into place. The shadow that passed over Tracy’s features made him take a step backwards, the fear of the ritual going to hell and his resulting death clouded his brain like an adrenalin shot to the heart.
“Jennifer would never sleep with you. Ever.”
He cocked his head in a silent dare. “That’s what you think.”
“What did you do with them?” She took a threatening step forward and Bill took another step back.
“Nothing yet,” Bill answered with a cold calculating smile. “But that’s going to change in about an hour.”
“You can’t do this, Bill. You can’t!”
The last remnants of the man he used to be faded along with his humanity, shriveling up into a dry husk at the core of his being. “I can and I will,” Bill shot back, the excuses tumbling from his lips. “She was supposed to die two years ago. But no, Tom had to be the fucking white knight and trade his life for hers. This time, there’s no one to make a bargain and it wants both of them.”
“I can’t let you do that,” Tracy said, advancing another step. “I won’t.”
Bill laughed at her and she launched at him, a roar hissing from her mouth. He sidestepped, sticking his foot out and she tripped, catapulting, spinning. The railing hit hip high and the force of the collision flipped her over the side. Her hands reached desperately for the railing and the sound of her nails scraping the metal gave him a start, like nails dragging down a chalkboard. Grinding his teeth, he watched her fall; her curses fading until her body hit the pavement with a wet slap, silencing her in a bloody bath.
Flipping open her phone, he dialed nine-one-one. “Someone just took a dive off the Brooksfield Heights apartment building.” He hung up, wiped it, tossed it on the couch, and left the building by way of the back stairwell.
Chapter 37
Jennifer closed her eyes as she listened to Steve ramble off expletive after expletive. Suddenly the room shifted.
Tracy.
Tracy falling through the air with Bill’s face smiling over the railing, getting farther and farther away.
Tracy screaming and then the scream cut off on impact, replaced by a silent black shroud.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god!” Her breath wheezed with each repetition.
Steve stopped pacing, swiped his jacked off the floor, and stepped to her side. He covered her with the jacket and wiped her tears, staring at the wet droplets as they rolled over his fingers. He moved his gaze to hers. She still repeated the incantation, her entire body shaking. “What? What’d you see?”
“He killed Tracy.”
Steve blinked. A crease appeared between his eyes. “No, Tracy was just on the phone.” He shook his head, meeting her gaze.
Jennifer sobbed and nodded. “He threw her off the balcony. I saw it Steve. I saw her die. Oh god, Steve, Tracy’s dead.”
Steve stepped back, shaking his head. “Uh-uh.”
“They’re going to kill us too.”
A slap wouldn’t have been as effective as those six words, and Steve’s jaw tightened. This time he shook his head violently. “No, they aren’t.” He crossed the space between them and sat on the side of the altar next to her, placing his hand on her abdomen. “I won’t let that happen. I promise.” He touched her face and kissed her gently. “I promise no one will hurt you again.”
“Don’t make me promises you know you can’t keep.”
* * * *
Despair took hold of him, the drugs magnifying the emotion, and he closed his eyes, hanging his head.
Can I keep her safe?
In this condition?
Are you kidding me?
The trembling started in his hands and worked its way through his body. The truth was too much for him to bear and he turned away from her, clinging to the cold stone, silent tears trickling down his cheeks.
“Don’t do this, Steve, please don’t do this,” Jennifer whispered, gaining his attention. “I need you.”
Steve turned toward her, his gaze falling on the ugly bruise surrounding her eye, and his shaking fingers traced the black and blue pattern Bill had left earlier in the day. Beyond despair, his eyes met hers.
I should have followed my gut. I shouldn’t have left you this morning. I should have taken you into custody to keep you safe.
“I’m so sorry.” His voice shook. “Jenny, I am so, so sorry.” He leaned forward, gently kissing each bruise, dropping hot tears on her skin.
“Please.” Jennifer’s voice trembled. “I need to know…” she trailed off and swallowed. “I need to know you love me. I need to know you will no matter what happens tonight.” The film of tears shone brightly in her eyes before the liquid spilled over, lining her cheeks, and pooling in her ears.
“Ah, baby, I’ll love you until I take my last breath,” Steve said and kissed her with all the tenderness he could muster. He pulled away, her soulful eyes begged for a way out, and he sighed, resting his hands on her waist. The rightness of her burned under his skin and he silently vowed to get her out of this alive. Somehow. Someway.
“You still think a monster is at the heart of this?” he asked. He no longer believed in demons from hell—only demons pretending to be human beings.
“Yes,” she answered and rolled, showing him her back.
His gaze landed on the scalded skin in the form of handprints and he recoiled.
“I had another nightmare this morning and when I woke, the closet was open and these were on my shoulders.” She settled on her back on the stone again.
The lore leapt to the forefront of his mind and he slumped on the stone next to her, picking up her wrist and inspecting the shackle. The key hole drifted and he cursed under his breath. “I could try to shoot the chains,” he said and met her gaze. “But if I missed…”
“You only have five bullets,” she whispered. “And in your condition, even if we were lucky enough to get me out of these with four shots, one bullet isn’t enough to stop them.”
He stood and paced until he stumbled. Working the lore, looking for weak points and ways out of this morbid ritual they were hell bent on performing.
If the demon truly existed, there was only one thing that could damn him back to hell.
Spilling Abinaqui blood on sacred ground.
He glanced at Jennifer. “I know how to stop the demon.”
Her eyes widened. “How?”
“Did you know that I’ve got Indian b
lood in my lineage?”
Her eyebrows shot into confused arches and he glanced at the door. “And heaven help anyone who touches you.”
The last of the daylight faded, leaving them entombed in the dark.
Chapter 38
Bill waltzed into the fraternity, whistling until he saw the police officers standing in the living room interviewing the members. He put on his game face. “What’s up?”
“Are you William Tyler?” one of the officers asked.
Bill’s heart stopped and fear crept in, pulsing black sludge through his veins. “Yes, what can I do for you?” he asked without showing a trace of what he felt.
“I’m Officer Sherwood and this is Officer Gant. Do you know a Tracy Sheehan?” he asked.
“Yeah, she’s my girlfriend,” he said, widening his eyes in fake concern. “Is she all right?”
“Do you know a Steven Williams or Jennifer Curtis?” Sherwood asked.
Nodding, he asked, “Is everything all right?” He allowed his voice to rise, infusing it with a thin layer of panic, just the right amount to fool the officers into thinking he was worried about his girlfriend.
The officers traded a glance and Gant gave a small nod. “We’re investigating the suspicious death of Miss Sheehan,” he said. “Can you tell me where you were over the last hour?”
Blinking, he forced his eyes to tear up. “Dead? What do you mean dead? She was fine when I dropped her off...” He sat down slowly in the chair. “Tracy?” He tilted his head, scrunching his eyebrows together. “Are you telling me Tracy’s dead?” His voice cracked when he said her name and he almost smiled at the performance, instead he shot his glance between the two officers, blinking and slowly transforming his features into what he hoped looked like devastation.
Sherwood and Gant exchanged another glance and nodded. “Yes. Can you tell me where you were over the last hour?”
Bill stared at them, his mouth agape, and his gaze still bouncing between the two cops. “We grabbed dinner at Joe’s and then I dropped her off around six. I stopped at the store on the way home.” He began to shake. “What happened to my girlfriend?” he asked in a voice loud enough to carry through the living room.
“What did you get at the store?” Sherwood asked, taking notes.
“Camping stuff. We’re going camping tonight.” He circled his finger as he spoke.
“Do you mind if we take a look?”
“I don’t mind, but what happened to Tracy?” He stood and blocked the officer’s path.
“Son, I suggest you step aside,” Sherwood said, looking at him intently.
“Not until you tell me what happened to Tracy,” Bill said, blinking back fake tears.
“She fell from her balcony,” the officer said. “Now, if you don’t mind…” He waved toward the door.
Bill sat down hard, looking up at the officer with wide eyes and an open mouth. He let the tears begin to stream down his face. “She fell?”
Gant crouched down in front of Bill. “Do you know the whereabouts of either Steven Williams or Jennifer Curtis?”
He shook his head. “No. Steve was here earlier and he said Jen had blown off a lunch date. He went running a little while after that. I just assumed he went to the apartment to look for Jen and found her, because he isn’t back yet.” He looked from Gant to Sherwood. “Why?” he asked, wiping the tears off his cheek.
“A male called nine-one-one from Tracy’s cell phone,” Sherwood offered. “Can you show us the camping gear you bought?”
Bill stood and walked out to his car. The passenger seat was full of hot dog buns, marshmallows, graham crackers, chocolate bars, and skewers. The cooler was full of beer, limes, and hot dogs. There was also a giant box of condoms on the floor.
The officer raised his eyebrows and pointed at the box. “You need that on a camping trip?”
The tears started again. He looked between the box and the officer. “Tracy,” he whispered and tried to smile, but it wouldn’t come.
“But that many?” Sherwood probed.
Bill showed the first signs of anger. “I didn’t want to be running to the store every five minutes,” he snapped. “Are you done with me?” He grabbed the bag holding the condoms and started back inside without waiting for a response.
He stopped on the top step. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking over at them. “It’s just…” he trailed off and suppressed a smirk when they nodded.
“If you see either Mr. Williams or Miss Curtis, please let us know,” Gant said, flipping his notebook closed.
Bill nodded. “I will.” He watched the officers get into their cruiser and drive off. When he walked back inside, all eyes were on him and he grinned. “Show time,” he said, holding up the box of condoms.
“Tracy’s dead, Bill,” Adam said.
“That’s what they said.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder and then looked up at the clock. “We need to get the pledges out to the campsite and then the real games begin.” Walking into the kitchen, he put the bag in the corner by the back door and scanned the eager pledges. “You all ready?” he asked, and smiled when each and every one of them nodded.
They filtered out and Bill put a troubled, somber expression on his face just in case the police were watching. The pledges all piled into the seniors’ cars, following him as he drove onto an obscure dirt road that led to a small clearing where everyone parked. It was roughly a mile between Paradise Cove and Black Cove. He got out and pulled a couple of tents from his trunk.
Adam and Joe pulled tents out of their trunks and laid them out on the ground.
Bill set the groceries and the coolers near the tents. “Your mission tonight to finalize your acceptance into Beta Theta Pi is to follow that path to Paradise Cove and get a picture of the reflection in the water with these Polaroid cameras. If you are daring, you can follow the small stream to Black Cove and bring us back a picture of that as well. If you bring a photo of Black Cove back, you’ll never have to pay fraternity dues.” He looked around the group. “We’ll be back before midnight. Anyone with pictures will be able to participate in the initiation ceremony. All those who don’t return by then, well, you’ll have to walk back to campus.” He tilted his head and smiled. “Oh, and one more thing—each of you has to go alone.” They all nodded. “You might want to pitch those tents and get a campfire going before you take off. There are hot dogs, beer, and stuff to make s’mores. I expect there will be some for us when we get here, right?”
The pledges nodded in agreement.
“We’ll be back,” he said.
The senior fraternity members retreated to their cars and headed out. They parked near the entrance of the dirt road and looked at each other while they waited just inside the woods, out of sight. A van slowed at the entrance and stopped just beyond the group. The side door slid open and they piled in.
“Hey, Jake.” Bill smiled at the driver. He was the former president of the fraternity and passed the torch to Bill when he left.
“Hey.” Jake looked over as Bill took the passenger seat. “Who do we have this year?” he asked as the side door closed.
“Jenny,” Bill said.
Jake swerved a little and looked at Bill. “She was off limits,” he said. “Tom traded his life for hers.”
Bill nodded. “That was two years ago. Things change.”
“Jesus,” Jake said, and glanced over at Bill. “Jesus.” He slowly smiled and glanced in the rearview mirror. All the senior members were nodding.
“Yeah, man, we finally get to do everything we ever wanted with her.” Adam smiled into the mirror.
“Speaking of that, did you stop and pick up the package by the back door?” Bill asked.
“Yeah, but I don’t understand.”
“That was the directive. She needs to be clean.” He shrugged.
Jake looked at him for a moment and the next thought sent quivers down his spine. “You don’t think…” he trailed off and physically shivered in the seat.
/> Bill laughed. “Yeah well, everybody wants to fuck that piece of ass.” He looked in back. “We also have someone else in the crypt.”
Jake glanced over at Bill. “Who’s that?”
“Jenny’s boyfriend. But he’s all doped up on Peyote and LSD. He won’t feel a thing when we cut him.”
“We aren’t cutting her?” Jake asked. This was so different from the past sacrifices he’d been involved in. The girl was always used and she was the one cut up.
“No,” Bill said. “She’s not to have a scratch on her,” he replied. “Well, she’ll be bruised.” He grinned. “But that’s acceptable.”
Jake glanced at Bill, and then back at the ten other members of the fraternity as he pulled into the cemetery.
Chapter 39
“Steve?” she asked, her eyes still scrunched in confusion.
He didn’t want to burden her with the details of the plan forming in his mind. It meant he had to be alive and awake and get them as near to Mirror Lake as possible.
Now all his Grandfather’s warnings made sense. Although, if spilling their blood was a way to send this beast back to hell, then why didn’t he or any of the others before him make the sacrifice?
He huffed. It was simple. None of them really believed in the lore. Superstitious, yes, but taking the leap to believing in a demon, no, none of them went that far.
Now it was up to him.
He reached down, and un-holstered his gun, setting it on the side of the altar. Slipping off the rock, he leaned down and brushed her lips with his. “I need to get my shit together before they come. I’m going to take down as many as I can. Maybe I’ll get lucky,” he smiled. “But in case I’m not, I want you to know I love you and I tried.”
Jennifer bit her lip, stifling the tears. “I know.”
Stepping to the middle of the mausoleum, he began to do karate forms.
* * * *
His balance was off, but the forms were still beautiful to watch in the dim moonlight and her vision blurred. She didn’t know what he had in mind, but the willingness to put himself between her and the hungry frat boys sent fear through her. What if he couldn’t stop them?
