Riapoke

by Bryan Nowak

  George cocked his head to one side. “The woolly hemledge?”

  Matthew chuckled nervously. “No George, the hemlock woolly adelgid. It’s a species of bug which has high incidences of infestation in West Virginia. Kills hemlock trees. Pretty bad for the ecology.”

  “Oh right,” George said. “Hey, wait a minute, we’re not in West Virginia.”

  “Well, that’s true,” Mike replied. “Unfortunately bugs don’t care about regulations telling them where they’re supposed to go, and even less about state boundaries.”

  George nodded. “I suppose that’s right, isn’t it? Well, let’s not waste the agent’s time Matthew. It isn’t often we get federal guys out here.” George motioned to the men, who followed them inside. They walked down a long hall that ended in a pair of beautifully crafted doors. “By the way, what’s the deal with the other guy in the truck? Isn’t he coming in?”

  Mike and Matthew hadn’t talked in great detail about how they’d explain leaving Kyle in the truck. “He’s not well,” Mike spoke up. “Caught a cold and is staying away from other people. He’s an entomologist anyway. Unless we find a bug body somewhere, he’d just be another person tracking dirt through the house.”

  The House of the Demon

  Kyle sat quietly, and more than a little nervously, inside the truck. Struggling to keep a positive attitude, the situation looked more dour every minute that ticked by on the dashboard clock. If Mike and Matthew were successful, they’d bring out his mother. If not, then they’d have to switch to plan B. A plan they didn’t, as of yet, have. He took solace in the fact that they would know more soon.

  He fidgeted with the truck’s radio. Even though it looked like a normal radio, it only played one station featuring the sermons delivered by Donny Swenson. The reverend carried on about something, practically screaming about fire and brimstone.

  Now I know the world wants you to believe in things you know aren’t true. Be careful that you don’t fall into the traps set before you, good people of The Master. He wants you to know that he loves you. So much, in fact, sometimes it hurts to punish those who are wicked. It is out of love that he punishes. It’s to keep those in line who otherwise undo what he’s built here.

  Brothers and Sisters, The Master gives us all and asks so little. So I ask again, why would anyone want to leave? It defies logic. Everything we have here is perfect. We live in a proverbial Garden of Eden. I know there are those of you who are curious about the world outside of our little town. Although, I have to tell you, it’s not what it should be. Lest ye’ forget, I’ve seen it first-hand. People living in licentiousness! Brothers and sisters lying together as husband and wife, children acting as parents and parents acting as children. Men and women of the cloth who turn against their own flock for their own benefit. I’ve seen things—”

  Kyle snapped off the radio, having heard enough of Donny’s nonsensical gibberish. While they had never been full-time churchgoers, this didn’t sound like the kind of preaching his family subscribed to.

  Behind the wood line, the telltale noise of an approaching vehicle destroyed the silence left by the absence of Donny’s babble. Trying to make himself as invisible as possible, Kyle folded his tall frame onto the floorboard, cramming himself into the tiny space. The act of hiding made him feel like he stood out even more.

  He heard a car door slam shut, followed by Shelly’s easily recognizable voice. They were too far away from him to make out any words.

  Kyle froze in place as he heard footsteps approach the truck.

  This is it, someone found me. We’re all dead.

  His eyes darted toward the dashboard and the radio handset sitting in its cradle. He wanted to pick it up and declare as storm moving in, but he convinced himself to calm down and relax. They were still okay, he was safely hidden behind the locked doors of the truck and there was no reason to panic … yet.

  Something rocked the truck, as if someone leaned up against the door, only inches from Kyle’s head. “Hey John, how are you?” Donald’s voice rang out.

  “I know you’re busy,” he continued. “We need to have a ceremony.” Donny paused for a moment, listening to the person on the other end. The volume on the cell phone was so loud Kyle could almost make out what the other man was saying, but not quite. What was clear is that the other man was protesting. “I know John. Look, we have to get this one done. We haven’t had a quick turnaround ceremony like this in a while. The Master insists this one get done tonight.”

  Ceremony? Kyle thought. What kind of ceremony? He didn’t remember anyone talking about a ceremony while they were in the reverend’s house.

  “What’s that? Oh no, I don’t think that’ll be necessary. We are going to keep this low key. A woman and her son wandered into town. The Master thinks it’s the beginning of something big, and this has to be done quickly and quietly. The son isn’t a tribute. We only need to keep him away and make sure he doesn’t find out.”

  Kyle sat in stunned silence listening to Donny finish the phone call. They were planning something for his mother and him. Based on the conversation, he wondered what the reverend meant by saying he wanted to get her out of the way as quickly as possible. If the comment meant what Kyle thought it did, they needed to move quickly. Time was of the essence.

  Kyle’s eyes fell to the dashboard clock again. Another minute ticked by. How long had Mike and Matthew been inside the house. To him, it seemed like an eternity. One thing was for certain, his mother was still very much alive. Maybe not for long.

  ****

  “So, Agent Mayhew, how do you know if any of these small creatures are around?” George asked as they walked through the hallways of the house.

  “Feces, and we find dead ones from time to time.” Mike wasn’t sure how convincing it sounded. George bought it though, with little reservation. Glancing over at Matthew, searching for any hint he was right or completely off base, gave him little comfort. Matthew maintained an impressive poker face as they walked.

  “You know, I’ve always wanted to work for the Department of Interior,” George continued, blissfully unaware that Mike knew absolutely nothing about government work. “My Uncle was a forestry guy for the better part of thirty years.”

  “Is that right?” Mike said. Walking past every room, Mike glanced inside for any possible sign of Meghan. So far, they’d come up completely empty. Kyle had given them a thorough rundown of which rooms they’d inhabited while staying in the house so Mike knew where to look. Mike wasn’t naive in thinking finding Meghan would be that easy, but he’d hoped to find a trace of Meghan. Perhaps a hair brush or article of clothing to confirm her presence.

  Matthew pushed open the door to the room that Kyle indicated Meghan slept in. The room smelled of pine soap and fresh linen, suggesting it had been freshly cleaned. His heart sunk a little as one of their few leads dried up.

  George continued their one sided conversation. “Yep, worked logging crime about forty miles from here for the forestry service. Caught a couple of poachers in the area. The last great adventure in government service if you ask me.”

  Mike pushed open the bedroom door where Kyle spent the night. In contrast to Meghan’s room, this bed was still disheveled and the toiletry items Kyle had been given to use were still laying on the dresser.

  Mike eyed George. “You have visitors?”

  “Oh yes, a woman and a boy the reverend had staying with us. I think the boy is returning … not expecting the woman back.”

  Matthew asked, “Why’s that?”

  George looked at Matthew with one up-raised eyebrow. “Why’s what?”

  Matthew growled at George. “Why aren’t you expecting her to return? A little odd, don’t you think?”

  “Well, he probably …” George's voice trailed off, and he scowled at them. “Why do you care, Matthew?”

  A bead of sweat broke out on Matthew’s temple. He’d come dangerously close to overplaying his hand. “Now that you mention it, I really don’t.�
� Mike stepped forward to the next room, pretending it didn’t matter to him.

  George shot Matthew an odd glance. Mike could tell the gears were mentally running through all the little details of their visit. Matthew mentioned that George had a law enforcement background, and something apparently began to look fishy to him.

  Matthew’s hand radio crackled to life and through some static a faint whisper of a voice could be heard. “And the national weather service issued a storm watch for our area.”

  Not exactly what Kyle was supposed to say, but close enough. Mike turned around an extended a hand to George. “Well boys, I don’t see any reason to continue wasting everyone’s time. No sign of the critters here, and I don’t think continuing our search will turn them up. Probably should just give it up and move onto another house. The department thanks you for your time George.”

  Mike’s movement broke the stare-down between George and Matthew. George reluctantly took Mike’s hand and shook it.

  Matthew, on his way to the door, turned back toward George. “Thank you, George. See you at the ceremony huh?”

  “How did you—,” George stammered. “Sure, yeah. See you at the ceremony.”

  Mike followed Matthew out the front door. Both men gasped at the sight of Donny pacing the parking lot, involved in a heated conversation with someone. Kyle was nowhere in sight. Matthew wondered if he’d managed to get out of the truck and run into the woods in between his call for help and now.

  “Hello Reverend. How are you this fine day?” Matthew called as he descended the stairs.

  Mike noticed Matthew moved his hand to rest it on the grip of his weapon. With the other hand he gave Mike a signal to stay behind him.

  “I’m fine. Who do we have here?” Donny glanced disinterestedly from his phone as he hit the end call button and slid it into the pocket of his dress shirt. “Oh, you must be the agent from the Department of Interior. Hopefully everything is in order?”

  Mike, thankful he didn’t notice there was only one of them and not two, played his part as boldly as possible. “Good day Sir, Agent Mayhew. We are looking into reports of an invasive species of insect. We are hoping to try and keep them out of Virginia if we can. They come over from the west. And yes, everything appears to be in order.”

  “And, you’re looking in my home?” The reverend asked, suspiciously.

  “Yes, Sir. You see, the critters burrow into wood like termites and live under the siding and other places. There is little we can do to stop them once they have a foothold, our only recourse is to fumigation.” Mike hoped he sounded convincing. A law professor once advised him that a weak case can sometimes work if presented strongly enough. The jury, in this case the reverend, might just buy the extraordinary argument.

  Donald was either underwhelmed by the information or wanted out of the conversation as quickly as possible. Mike glanced up at the window to see George looking down at them, vulture-like. Although still unsure what his suspicions were, George would likely share them as soon as the reverend walked in the door. George obviously suspected something was out of sorts.

  “Reverend, we don’t want to take up any more of your time.” Matthew said, a nervous edge in his voice. “We need to get moving.”

  “Yes,” Mike added. “Thank you so much, your staff was very helpful in speeding this along.”

  Donald waved his hand dismissively at the both of them. “I expect nothing less of my little team.” Then he turned toward the house.

  Matthew whispered, “We need to get out of here. Now.”

  Mike wondered what became of Kyle. Standing on the top of the stairs he should have been clearly visible to them and there should have been no way he would have been invisible to Donny.

  Walking to the passenger side, Mike breathed a sigh of relief as soon as he spied the boy, on the driver's side foot board; neatly folded to remain as small as possible.

  Mike said over the top of the truck to Matthew, “Wait a second before you get in.” Mike opened the door and motioned to Kyle to move over toward the passenger side. George, still at the window, would undoubtedly tell security to lock the gate if Kyle popped up. The old head of security was fairly scatterbrained and it likely hadn’t occurred to him to ask what happened to the entomologist.

  For now, the plan remained largely intact.

  Although George had suspicions, Matthew knew Donny thought George was lazy and borderline incompetent sometimes. More than once Matthew was asked to keep an eye on the aged chief of security. He’d voiced suspicions about other people in town, Donny dismissed them as being a figment of George’s imagination, and they usually were. Matthew outranked him in the church hierarchy, and was considered more trustworthy. Then again, suspicion and backstabbing became institutionalized since Donny took over as pastor.

  All breathed a collective sigh of relief the moment the truck sped away from the house. Far enough away from the front gate, Matthew crawled over the top of the seats and into the back. Stopping at an intersection for a passing car, Mike asked, “So, what next?”

  “Sorry for using the radio,” Kyle said, somewhat sheepishly. “I just didn’t know what else to do with him standing there. Plus, I overheard the reverend say something about my mom. He said a woman and her son who wandered into town and something about preparing for a ceremony.”

  Mike adjusted his leather duty belt. “You asked George about a ceremony, Matthew. What was the significance of that?”

  Matthew made a discomforting face as he depressed the accelerator and the large truck roared to life. “It means we’re running out of time. I think your mother is being held at the church. Unless I miss my guess, they plan to kill her at sundown.”

  Kyle’s voice broke as he spoke. “Then we need to go now. Please.”

  “We’re going to,” Matthew said. “We have to be careful or we’re going to do more harm than good. There are things at the church which defy explanation.”

  Mike stared out the window at passing trees. “Well, I think you might want to give it a try. This whole situation could go south if we aren’t careful.”

  Matthew turned the truck down a country road and pulled into the driveway of an abandoned house. “Okay, this is going to sound weird and fantastic, but I swear it is the truth. Riapoke isn’t just a name. It’s an Indian word. It means,’ the devil’ or ‘evil’, depending on how you translate it. Legend has it that the Powhatan Indians, who once controlled this area, found the cave and discovered something living in it.”

  Kyle cocked his head to the side. “Thing living in it?”

  “Yes, something supposedly immortal. The Indians knew to steer clear of the cave. Legend has it that Chief Powhatan himself went down to discover its secrets. After days of being down in the cave, he emerged and ordered the entire population to stay away. He even sent his daughter away from the area on a mission with some European’s who landed here. He wanted to keep her safe. You know her as Pocahontas.”

  “The Pocahontas?” Kyle’s eyes grew big as saucers.

  “One in the same,” Matthew continued. “I don’t know if this thing is really immortal or not, but this town is essentially built around it. Until about ten years ago, it wasn’t that big of a deal. No one really paid attention to it. Sure, some made sacrifices, mostly livestock. No big deal. Then the reverend came and things started to change.”

  “Change? How so?” Mike asked.

  “At first, little things. He exerted more control over the council’s activities, and such. Soon Donny altered the church’s constitution and changed the election cycle, allowing him control over the entire governing board. Eventually eroding all outside control of the church. Of course, everything done in the name of The Master, and therefore unquestioned. One time he disappeared into the cave for almost a full week. Donny Swenson went down, and the high priest of the church came out.” Matthew paused for a moment, recalling an uncomfortable memory. “Not sure how to describe it. It was shortly afterward that ritualistic sacrifices of hum
ans were being demanded. In the beginning, bones of the dead were returned to the families for Christian burial. That’s when I exhumed one of the bodies and sent it in for testing.”

  Kyle interjected. “I’m guessing you were able to keep it a secret.”

  “Yes, I value my life. Also it gave me something on Donny. So, I forged a bench warrant, used an outside construction company to dig up the plot, and the remains were sent to a crime lab out of state. The findings were interesting. The body showed acute opisthotonos. That is the technical term for an extreme arching of the back. Common in strychnine poisoning. The toxicology report showed trace amounts in the marrow.”

  Mike asked, “A ritual sacrifice doesn’t require poison, does it?”

  “You asked the million-dollar question. One night I checked into anyone buying strychnine. I found out that someone had, a doctor by the name of Charles Wheatler.”

  “Was there something specific about this guy you exhumed?” Mike looked puzzled. “I mean, why were you suspicious?”

  “The guy was an older gentleman who’d stood in opposition to the changes Donny made and enforced with an iron fist. I’m sure the man died because he opposed Donny, and by extension The Master. He wasn’t a sacrifice, it was murder plain and simple.”

  Mike looked out the truck window at an old out building, seemingly lost in thought. “Did you talk to this Dr. Wheatler?”

  Matthew frowned. “I didn’t have to. Dr. Wheatler doesn’t exist. That is one of the pseudonyms used by Donny Swenson. I’ve seen a prescription pad in his office at church with that name on it along with a dozen other aliases he’s using.”

  Kyle interjected. “How has he been able to get away with this? Why is it that no one has tried to stop him?”

  “Fear is a great motivator, kid,” Mike said.