by Kenny Soward
They repeated this a couple more times, getting a little more intense with each attempt. Elsa’s eyes grew wider, her nose flaring, teeth snapping harder and harder. Yet, Torri always managed to save her finger even when Elsa lunged forward with her whole head.
Soon, the whorchal was practically laying atop Torri, and Lonnie knew it had become more than a game.
Lonnie pumped the brakes once more, saying, “Crash, can you fucking do something, man?”
Too late, as Elsa snarled and lunged for Torri’s throat, but the girl was quicker, brushing her hand across Elsa’s cheek in a flash, leaving a dark brown smear of mud on her skin while muttering a single, quick syllable Lonnie didn’t quite catch.
Elsa completely froze. Her gaping maw remained open, her body poised where she half leaned over their new passenger. It was like she’d become a wax statue in the space of an instant. Only her eyes darted around, looking from her sister in the front seat back to Torri with unbidden rage.
“Hey!” Lonnie shouted, still pumping the breaks to get the fucking van to stop
“She’s fine,” Torri said, putting her hands on the whorshal’s shoulders and easing her back until she was in a more natural sitting position. Lonnie caught the faint scent of burning wood replacing the fresh cut flower smell from before. Was that coming off Torri? It must be.
Before the van could come to a complete stop, Lonnie turned in his seat, ready to rip into someone. But Crash diffused the moment with a tremendous laugh. “Looks like Elsa got herself into some trouble.”
Lonnie’s eyes flashed to Torri. “What did you do to her? Was that some sort of spell?”
The one named Torri Dowe was already settling back as if nothing had happened. Power radiated off her in waves, that familiar Selix energy. She gave Lonnie a green-eyed look that nearly froze him to the spot before her eyes slid forward once more.
Earth magic.
“Why, I believe it was a spell,” Ingrid said, a wary but bemused look on her face. “What we have here is a witch, Lons. A full-blown one, too. She’s very good to have made my sister go so stiff. I have never seen that happen.”
“All right, Torri,” he said. “Just get out. We didn’t mean you no harm.”
“Hell you didn’t.”
Lonnie closed his eyes, his throat constricting with the fear that they were no longer in control of the situation. He swallowed. “Okay, maybe we did. Well, Elsa did—”
“Look, just turn in here.” Torri pointed to an old dirt road on the left Lonnie hadn’t noticed.
“What?”
“Right here. This old dirt road. Trust me. I’m the one you were supposed to find. I seen y’all coming in my dreams. I know Miss Bess sent ya.”
Lonnie shook his head (Bess could have fucking warned them) and eased them onto the dirt road. The van bounced around as they went down the worn and rutted path. There would be no turning around here. Trees pressed in on both sides of them, and if the van strayed a foot in either direction they’d go off the road and be totally screwed.
He avoided looking in the rearview mirror anymore. What would be the point? It wasn’t like he could do anything about Elsa being frozen. Hell, that was her own damn mess. After a half mile of the jostling ride, the road terminated into a big dirt circle. Lonnie directed the van to the right and got it facing back the other way before he put it in park and turned off the ignition.
“All right,” Torri said, throwing the sliding door open and getting out.
Elsa remained frozen in her seat.
Ingrid opened the passenger side door and leaned out. “When will you let my sister go?”
Torri started up the hill and stopped. She turned around, giving them a grave look.
“Look. That was fun and all, playin’ the finger game. But I’m invitin’ you into my home now and I expect you to respect it. You got that?”
Lonnie had gotten out and come around the front, keeping a respectable distance. He nodded, as well as the rest of the gang, all except for Elsa who strained against whatever force still held her.
Torri continued. “No messing with my stuff or disturbin’ anything. I’m only doing this for Miss Bess because I like her. Y’all ain’t my people, and I got no obligation to you whatsoever. Got that, too?”
Same nods all around.
Torri moved a step or two closer, fixing Elsa with one green eye. Her lips whispered words and Elsa jerked to life, gasping as if she’d been holding her breath underwater for minutes. Then she glared at Torri, looking like she might come roaring out of the van.
Brow furrowed, the hillbilly girl leaned closer. “Now, you go ahead and try it and see where it gets you. You’re in my world now, dearie.”
Elsa seemed to teeter toward some ill-fated decision, something that might get them into a tousle with this hill witch, but the rage quickly drowned beneath a wave of common sense. The whorchal reluctantly nodded, eyes dropping like a punished child.
Good thing, because Lonnie wasn’t sure they could take Torri down.
Torri spat on the ground, wiped some spittle from her chin, turned, and stalked up the hill.
Lonnie’s eyes never left the strange hill girl as he spoke to the gang. “All right. Let’s go.”
“What, exactly, are we doing, brother?” Makare asked, climbing out of the side of the van.
“Seems we’re going to visit with Miss Dowe for awhile and wait for Bess.”
They gathered in a loose group by the van, then followed Torri on up.
Lonnie didn’t even bother to lock or shut the van’s side door. They were miles from any town, and he was sure anyone who made it out this way wouldn’t bother with trying to steal such a busted up piece of crap. But if they wanted it, they could have it. It was a burden, as far as he was concerned. A coffin for all his self-pity. A grave for his guilt and longing.
It was best left right here to rot and rust and fall apart until there was nothing left.
Chapter 7
Torri led the way with Lonnie and Ingrid next, then Crash, Jedi, and Makare followed by Elsa. The forest floor was the color of brown and green, sometimes a little red and gold where leaves fell and died. Things scurried along the forest floor, flashing for a moment before disappearing up a tree or down into a hole. One such creature bounded along a low branch and watched them pass. A little black squirrel.
Lonnie smiled at it.
Smiling at fucking squirrels, Lonnie, he thought. What’s up with that?
While Lonnie had briefly experienced woods in his time here on Earth, he couldn’t remember having experienced anything so damn vast and alive. Rose Park had been a sprinkle compared to this place. Even Gruff’s Arboretum, grand spectacle that it was, didn’t have the kind of overwhelming scents, sounds, and colors of the Kentucky hills.
It seemed to be having an overwhelming effect on the gang, too.
Ingrid’s eyes absorbed their surroundings, flitting across the ground, gazing through the treetops where the branches of huge oaks and pines supported all manner of birds and insects and scurrying beasts. And while Lonnie was no judge of flora, he’d guess that the biggest trees here were hundreds of years old.
He could just feel the power of it all thrumming beneath his feet. Or maybe it was just that the power followed Torri, he couldn’t tell. Probably a combination of both.
Crash stomped up the hill, full of energy. As his head swiveled in every direction. He breathed deep, huge chest filling up with country air, a big, stupid grin on his face.
Maybe it wasn’t just the majesty of the place, but also the fact that they’d been more-or-less cooped up in a van the past few months, smelling oil and the musty old seats and dealing with the downward spiral of their own emotional vitriol after losing Selix.
Their crushed spirits soared for the first time since he could remember.
Makare and Jedi didn’t complain once about getting no phone reception out here. In fact, Jedi was like a frolicking child. He picked up rocks and gunned them through th
e woods where they’d ricocheted off tree trunks and smashed into the surrounding shrubs.
The trail was moderately worn, and Lonnie imagined various hill folk traveling to see Torri Dowe as a kind of pilgrimage. Other trails joined this one from all parts of the woods, and Lonnie wondered where each of them led. He imagined little shacks and shanties and communities that you couldn’t find on any map. And who would ever know? Who ventured into the Appalachian Mountains just to take a census?
Not many, Lonnie figured.
Hell, maybe Crash was right. Maybe they should move out to a place like this. Sure, they’d be far from conveniences, but they’d have anonymity and a sense of peace. They’d be able to see their enemies coming, quite literally, a mile away.
It probably wasn’t a long-term reality, but right now it felt good, and he was suddenly very glad they’d come. He could breathe out here. Even the weight of Selix’s death seemed somehow lighter.
Jedi trotted up to them, zinging another rock into the forest. By this time, Torri was way ahead even though she didn’t seem to be trying at all. Under his breath, Jedi muttered. “I’ve heard things about her.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
Jedi kept his voice low, secretive. “Well, there was a team of us working under Krag. Real tight bunch. Used to hang out a lot when we weren’t working. It was a lifestyle, you know?” He made a face. “A real fucked up lifestyle, but, anyway, we’d all get together. Me, Scarlet, some other people.”
Ingrid said, “Scarlet is the hacker Bess is after, correct?”
“Yeah, she’s less brilliant and more brutal. Although,” Jedi frowned, “I don’t like her chances anymore. She has a lot of people after her. She might even be dead.”
“And she told you some things?”
“Yeah, so sometimes we’d go get fucked up at Scarlet’s place. And if Scarlet got drunk enough, she’d show us all kinds of shit on her computer. Shit you wouldn’t believe, all kept on some secret network. That’s how I found out about the Turu Tukte and all. Anderson and Krag wouldn’t tell me shit.”
“You have a point?”
“Yep. Apparently, Torri Dowe is some weird hill witch. They didn’t have any pictures of her, just a short file.”
“Fade ripper?”
“No, that’s just it. She’s not a fade ripper at all. Not like you guys or that Gruff dude. She’s been here for, like, a million years or something. They say she’s crazy, so we got to calling her Creepy Crazy Torri. We even made up a little game about her when we were drunk. We’d turn out the lights and one of us would say, ‘Creepy Crazy Torri three times, and—”
“Her spirit was supposed to show up and kill you or something?”
“Yeah,” Jedi laughed. “Used to scare the shit out of each other.”
Torri Dowe was a part of the secretive world of monsters, this ongoing fight between the ECC and fade rippers. Like Gruff, just another piece of a much bigger puzzle.
Shit, there was probably a file on him somewhere, too.
Jedi’s voice rose as he continued his recollection of Torri rumors. Glancing ahead, Lonnie saw her shoulders slump. He threw an elbow at the smaller man, nearly knocking him down. Gesturing, he said, “Hey, shut up. She can hear you.”
“Ah, my bad,” Jedi’s voice dropped like a stone. “Guess I’m fucked if she is a ghost, right?”
“You’re fucked whether she’s a ghost or not.”
Lonnie wanted to apologize for Jedi, so he started pressing forward in an attempt to gain some ground on her.
The ground leveled off a little bit, and things weren’t so hard on their legs anymore. The trail was smooth except when they encountered a rise or had to navigate a treacherous dip. And then, after a mile of that, they joined a smaller trail that wound uphill again. That’s where Lonnie caught up with Torri.
“Hey there,” he said, swatting at a fat yellow jacket that buzzed by.
“Hey,” she replied, glumly.
Lonnie was suddenly at a loss for something to say. Torri was clearly a regular woman in many ways, a pretty Earth woman, but she might as well have been an alien her vibe was so strange.
But he’d hurried to catch up with her. He had to say something.
She turned a little to the side to get a better look at him, and Lonnie could see a little hurt in her eyes.
“Don’t mind Jedi. He’s just a little asshole.”
Torri shrugged and turned away, and Lonnie caught the scent of wildflowers again, this time tinged with that smoky char from back in the van. Both aromas drifted off Torri as part of her magic essence or something. At least that’s what Selix would have said.
“Don’t matter none. He’s not one of my own so he can think whatever he wants. Y’all can.”
“Well, I don’t think that. I mean, I don’t think you’re crazy.”
Torri’s tone cut through any presumptions he’d made about her hurt feelings. “Mister, you don’t even know me.”
“You’re right. I don’t. And I guess that’s kind of why I came to walk with you. Maybe we can get to know each other a little better. Hell, I’d be happy if you could tell us why we’re—”
“We’ll talk about that in a bit,” Torri cut him off. “For now, let’s just walk. And keep your people from messin’ up my woods. Don’t make me regret something.”
Lonnie blinked and slowed his walk, letting the woman get ahead before he took up following her again.
Chapter 8
After another couple miles of hard hiking, they finally reached the end of the trail. Lonnie was sweating good by then, the saltiness stinging his eyes and his legs starting to burn. The mood of the gang had tempered a little with the distance. Jedi and Elsa grumbled the most, and Makare, well, it was hard to tell about her.
It seemed his sister was still in her usual dark humor, but her eyes were warier, and she’d even pulled Jedi aside a couple of times to talk to him. It dawned on Lonnie that while the Eighth Street Gang hadn’t exactly worked out the meaning of what Jedi had said back in the Under River about the Turu Tukte, the other two had clearly worked it out between them and were purposefully holding out on them.
Damn, he thought, how blind have I been these past past months?
Lonnie assumed very.
They stood at the edge of a big dirt circle enclosed by wooden benches around the edge. There were no other trails heading deeper into the woods from here. Nope, this is where it all ended. The feeling that this was some sort of pilgrimage trail struck Lonnie again, and there were a few stone fire pits around to prove it.
Torri stopped at the far side of the circle, turned, and regarded them with a good helping of mistrust in her eyes.
“All right. I’m taking you up the hill to my home. I don’t let a lot of people up here, so mind your manners. That’s all I ask.”
“I’m sure it’s fancy,” Makare said, smartly.
Torri’s face slackened a little but her eyes remained fixed on Makare for a few uncomfortable moments until Lonnie’s sister finally looked down at the ground.
“And you need to leave your weapons here.” The hill witch indicated a big, root infested hole in the ground at the base of a tree.
Lonnie gave her an incredulous look. “Just toss our weapons in there?”
“If you please.”
“Just leave them right out in the open?”
“No one’s gonna touch `em. Believe me. Just drop `emin.” And when no one moved to do so, Torri got frazzled with impatience. “Look, I ain’t havin’ y’all up to my house with a bunch of guns.”
“I said we don’t mean you no harm,” Lonnie said. “Not now, anyways. You have my word.
“It’s for your own damn protection.”
“Protection from what?”
“From everything.” Torri made frustrated gestures all around.
Lonnie wagged his head, trying to figure out what the fuck she meant by all that. Before he could come to a conclusion, Crash stepped up and dropped their duffel in
. The ladies tossed their handguns down after it.
Torri nodded with satisfaction, but told Lonnie, “Yours too.”
Lonnie shook his head. “I’m keeping mine.”
Their eyes locked in a brief battle of wills before Torrie relented with a shrug. “Suit yourself. But don’t be drawing it out in the open around me. The woods, they get protective. Might find yourself without arms if you’re not careful.”
No arms?
Lonnie subdued a shudder and furtively looked around as they followed Torri up another hillside, and this time there were no trails or easy ways. They were climbing through brush, stepping over fallen trees, leaning against the steepness while fighting through clusters of vines.
Lonnie was sweating like a pig, so he took off his jacket only to find out it was just as hard to drag it along. He put it back on, thankful that it offered some protection from the sticker bushes and switchbacks. Sweating was easier than an armful of stinging welts.
For Torri’s part, she seemed to navigate through it all with no problems, getting halfway there before the others had even made it a quarter way. When they caught up to the hill woman, she was holding a black cat in her arms, gently stroking its head, the animal’s green eyes were just about as bright as Torri’s own, but not quite.
“That yours.”
“She’s no one’s. But her name’s Tavia.”
Lonnie held out his hand. “Hi, Tavia.”
The cat gave Lonnie’s fingers a sniff, then leapt out of Torri’s arms and scampered off into the woods.
“Y’all just shoo her if she gets in the way.”
Lonnie caught a flash of a grin beneath Torri’s red hair and got the sneaking suspicion the woods had been working against them this whole time. A brief moment of panic flooded his brain when he realized how easily they could all be caught. The wild green all around them. The Earth thrumming with a power that regarded them with a malignant eye. Silly, perhaps, but the hill woman had stopped Elsa with a simple touch. Imagine what these woods could do if they were, indeed, alive.
