Harm none argi-1

by M. R. Sellars

I’m sitting.

  “ I told you,” the little girl says to me. “We almost missed it.”

  I turn to face her. I don’t know where she came from. I vaguely remember that she was gone, but I don’t know why. I feel that she has been there all along.

  “ I have to go soon,” she says and points at a spot far above my head. “My turn is next.”

  I look up and see a large round disk, mottled white and grey. The moon. It lacks fullness by only a thin sliver along the edge. I lower my eyes back to her.

  The little girl is no longer little. She is a full-grown woman. She is Ariel Tanner, dressed in white lace and surrounded by a dimly glowing aura of milky light. She is kneeling next to me, holding my hand and smiling.

  “ She doesn’t understand,” Ariel tells me. “You will have to explain it to her.”

  “ Explain what?” I ask. My own words meet my ears as a mirror image of themselves, echoing softly “? tahw nialpxe.”

  She places two fingers across my lips to hush me and shakes her head. Her soft hair billows weightlessly, the aura dancing in perfect unison with each individual strand. “You have to stop him, Rowan. It’s all up to you now. Only you can save her.”

  She lowers her fingers from my lips and stretches forward then lightly kisses my cheek. As she pulls away, she smiles shyly at me.

  Her eyes widen with surprise, and the shy smile drains away. Her lips form a mute frown as a glossy patch of vermilion appears on her bosom, spreading like oil across the white lace.

  “ Why, Rowan, why?” she mouths as she falls away from me into nothingness.

  I reach for her, but she is gone.

  Darkness.

  Light.

  Darkness.

  Falling.

  Falling upward into the light.

  Another nightmare?” Felicity was sitting next to me on the edge of the sofa when I awoke from the fitful slumber.

  “Yeah,” I answered, “like that’s a surprise, huh?”

  “Anything in it that might help?”

  “I dunno,” I returned lethargically as I pulled myself upright. “It mainly just told me that we were running out of time, as if I needed a reminder.”

  She moved out of my way as I swung my legs around and allowed my feet to drop to the floor.

  “Want some coffee?” she asked.

  “Yeah, sure. What time is it anyway?”

  “Almost noon,” she called over her shoulder as she headed for the kitchen. “I figured you didn’t get in till late, so I let you sleep.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate that. I think.”

  “Ben called earlier.” She returned with a mug of hot coffee and handed it to me. “He said to tell you thanks.”

  “For what?” I queried and took a sip of the hot liquid, letting it burn the sleep from my throat.

  “For all your help,” she answered. “They caught Roger early this morning. He came back to the house, and they were waiting for him.”

  I stared back at her incredulously, almost dropping the steaming mug. “He what? What about the little girl?”

  “She’s fine. Not a scratch on her. She’s already been reunited with her parents.”

  I couldn’t believe it. After everything we had been through, Roger had walked right back into the hands of the police. I suppose I should have been thankful, but I just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was out of sync. A sense of foreboding that made me believe that something was terribly wrong.

  “I need to go talk to Ben,” I announced and began searching about for my shoes.

  “Slow down,” Felicity insisted. “Don’t you think you’d better take a shower first? No offense, but you look pretty rough.”

  She was right. The activities of the night before, combined with eight hours on our living room sofa, had to have taken their toll on my appearance.

  “Yeah, okay,” I agreed. “But do me a favor will’ya? Call Ben and tell him I’m coming down to see him.”

  “Sure. No problem.” She pecked me quickly on the cheek. “Now go get cleaned up.”

  I left her dialing the phone and tossed my clothes haphazardly into the hamper as I stripped. The sun was coming in brightly through the window, eliminating the need for artificial light, so I just kicked on the exhaust fan and climbed into the shower.

  With a quick turn of the porcelain handles, I started the water flowing and adjusted the temperature to my liking. I turned to allow it to flow down my back and held my eyes closed, willing away the remaining tension in hopes of at least a few moments relaxation. It was then that something Felicity had just said struck me as odd. She asked me if the nightmare had contained anything that might help, yet she already knew that Ben had called. She knew that Roger had already been captured. I started to call out to her in search of an explanation.

  When I opened my eyes, I was looking directly at the back wall. Across the normally pristine white tiles, dark crimson strokes inscribed- ALL IS FORGIVEN.

  — A sour, cackling laugh filled my ears, and the water against my back suddenly felt oddly thick. I looked down at my chest where it splashed across my shoulders and saw blood, viscid and hot, dripping from my skin.

  I tried to escape the horror, only to find the shower curtain had become solid and unyielding. I began to pound on it wildly, screaming for my wife, as the enclosure quickly began to fill with the sticky, crimson liquid. My cries remained unheeded as the level reached my chest, then my chin, until finally, I was submerged. My throat and lungs began to burn, and I was starting to black out. No longer able to hold my breath, I was about to face my own innermost fear. I was drowning.

  I awoke screaming.

  Felicity was over me, firmly grasping my shoulders and shaking me into consciousness. “Rowan, wake up! Rowan!”

  I bolted upright on the couch, steeped in my own sweat. The cool breeze from a nearby register sent a shiver up my spine as the air conditioner followed orders from the thermostat and worked to maintain the temperature.

  Soft morning light was beginning to filter in between the slats of the mini blinds covering our windows, bringing a murky pallor to my surroundings. My wife, clad in an oversized t-shirt, was staring back at me with the same gentle concern I had seen in her eyes just one night before.

  “Another nightmare?” she asked rhetorically, sitting back on the edge of the sofa.

  “Yeah,” I sighed, “a weird one. Whatever you do, don’t tell me it’s almost noon, and Ben called to tell me thanks.”

  “Why would I?”

  I heard a muffled series of barks, telling me that the dogs wanted to be let back in. For some reason, that familiar noise, added to my wife’s puzzled expression and my overall feeling as if I had been beaten severely with a two-by-four, was the evidence I needed to tell me I was actually, truly awake this time.

  “It’s a long story,” I told her.

  After a shower that began hesitantly, I relinquished the remaining hot water to Felicity and prepared a quick breakfast. Over eggs scrambled with broccoli and Swiss cheese, a side of turkey bacon, and coffee, she and I discussed the events of the past evening. For the most part, the discussion was one-sided, with me doing the talking and her doing the listening as I filled her in on the details of the assault on Roger’s house, followed by those of the doubly bizarre nightmare. The latter accounting, I recorded in my Book of Shadows as I went.

  “I got a call from a client last night,” Felicity announced while we put away the freshly washed dishes. “Apparently, they lined up a last minute product shoot with some model that’s only available today.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll be fine,” I answered her unspoken question.

  “Are you sure, then?” she posed. “I can refer it over to Hartley. He owes me one anyway.”

  “Really. I’ll be fine,” I assured her. “There’s no need in both of us sitting around here staring at the walls. I don’t know if there’s much more either of us can do to help Ben right now anyway. Besides, like I said, Agent Mandalay isn�
�t exactly my number one fan.”

  “Okay. If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  I helped her load the Jeep and waved goodbye as she backed out slowly and went on her way. The landscape around me was growing brighter as the sun crept higher in the morning sky, chasing away the dimly shimmering globe of the moon-the moon that was less than twenty-four hours from full.

  I called Ben shortly after Felicity left and was told that he was following up leads in the field. After leaving a message for him, I resigned myself to performing what had become the more mundane tasks in my life-support calls, returning email, and even some minor house cleaning. Don’t get me wrong, I was actually looking forward to returning to the everyday normalcy, but not until this whole thing was over and done with.

  It was approaching three in the afternoon when the phone rang. Ben was on the other end, returning my call.

  “So, any good news?” I queried into the handset.

  “No,” he told me, “not really. The parents made a positive ID on the little girl’s dress. And they found a spot where the floor had been dug up in the corner, but that’s about it.”

  “That’s where he buried the hearts he took from the victims,” I stated mechanically.

  “Yeah… It wasn’t pleasant… Oh, and that tip ya’ gave us on the syringe. We found it right where ya’ said it would be. Lab showed traces of a sedative called Diazepam.”

  “Not the curare?”

  “No,” he returned. “Seemed off to me too, so I asked the doc about it. Apparently, that stuff paralyzes the blink response, and he would have to use some kinda artificial lubricant to keep her eyes from dryin’ out. Also, repeated doses could build up in ‘er system and cause respiratory failure. Sounded kinda high maintenance for someone tryin’ ta’ duck the cops.”

  “But it makes sense,” I volunteered. “He doesn’t want her injured. I’m convinced of that. In my vision, he kept referring to her as The One. As odd as it may sound, he holds her in very high reverence. She has to be pristine for the ritual, but he also has to keep her under wraps until the full moon.”

  “Yeah, it sounds odd all right, ‘specially when ya’ consider what he plans to do to ‘er in this ritual thing.” There was a lengthy pause at his end. I could almost see him trying to form his words. “So listen, Row. About that whole hocus-pocus thing last night. What did’ya mean when ya’ said ya’ don’t know if he’s better than you or not?”

  “I meant exactly that. I don’t know.”

  “But I thought you were some kinda Master Witch or somethin’,” he appealed. “Like a Black Belt of Witch stuff. Ya’know what I mean?”

  “There’s no such thing, Ben. The Craft is a continual learning process.”

  “That still doesn’t tell me why ya’ think he’s better’n you.”

  “Something happened during that vision that took me by surprise. I’ve never experienced anything like it before, and to be honest, it bothered me quite a bit.”

  “Wanna talk about it? After everything I’ve seen lately, I’m willin’ ta’ listen.”

  “Okay.” I took a deep breath and let it puff out my cheeks as I exhaled. “But you might not want to hear it. If I’m right, I could be the reason he knew we were coming.”

  “How so?”

  “Well,” I continued, “you understand that when I’ve had these visions at the crime scenes, they were recreations of the recent past, right?”

  “Yeah, go on.”

  “That’s the kind of vision I had at Roger’s house but with a major exception. He talked to me.”

  “I’m not sure I follow.”

  “In the vision,” I explained, “Roger spoke directly to me. He told me that I hadn’t been there to save Ariel Tanner, and there was no way I’d be able to save The One. He looked right at me. Called me by name.”

  There was a long pause at the other end of the line as he mulled over my latest revelations. “So lemme get this straight…” His words were measured carefully. “Ya’think that when you had that vision, you like went back in time or somethin’? And he saw ya’ there and knew you were comin’?”

  “No, not at all,” I corrected. “I had a vision of something that happened in the recent past. I think Roger knew we were close because of me. Because of the energies I’ve been giving off.”

  “So, what about this bit where he was talkin’ to ya’? I still don’t get it. Where does that fit in?”

  “I think that since he knew we would be coming, and he knew that I would be there, in a sense, he was waiting for me. He insinuated himself into the vision.”

  “You mean he was there?!” Ben’s voice became instantly more animated.

  “Not in the physical sense,” I expressed, “but I wouldn’t be surprised if he was nearby.”

  “Shit! That’s all I needed to hear.” The animation in his voice was replaced by calm dejection. “So the fact that you think he somehow got ‘imself into your vision is what’s got ya’ thinkin’ you somehow tipped him off.”

  “That’s my theory.”

  “Well, don’t let the ice princess hear that,” he expressed, referring to Special Agent Mandalay. “She’s still givin’ me a royal pain in the ass about your involvement in this case. She doesn’t need any more ammunition.”

  “How are you two getting along today?” I queried out of a mild curiosity.

  “Like oil and water. Ya didn’t expect any different did’ya?” he admitted.

  “You know, Ben, she’s just doing her job. You took a lot of convincing about The Craft as I recall.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he conceded. “I just don’t have time for it right now… What? Hold on a sec…” I heard him stave off a muted voice in the background. “Listen, I gotta go. You’ll call me if you have another vision or somethin’?”

  “You’ll be the first.”

  “Okay. I’ll check back in with ya’ as soon as we know somethin’. Later.”

  “Bye.”

  I lied. Sort of.

  If anything relevant came into my mind via any means, conscious thought or ethereal vision, I would certainly call Ben immediately. However, I had carefully avoided telling him about my most recent dream. If my theory about Roger entering my vision was correct, then I was firmly convinced that he had entered my nightmare as well. It was my belief that he was responsible for the bizarre secondary sequence. He was trying to frighten me, and that was the chink in his armor. He was just as unsure about me as I was about him.

  I didn’t tell Ben about it. I hadn’t even told Felicity the entire story. I was the only one that knew because it was something I was going to have to face on my own.

  CHAPTER 25

  I expected Ben to have someone watching Roger’s house, and I had no idea whatsoever how I was going to handle the situation; therefore, I was somewhat surprised when the neighborhood seemed devoid of surveillance. Of course, that was just how it appeared on the surface.

  The digital clock on the in-dash stereo had just flicked over to seven P.M. when I pulled down the Overmoor side street. Felicity had called me earlier to say the photo shoot was running late and that she probably wouldn’t be home until after nine. I didn’t tell her as much, but I was actually glad she’d be out late. I was certain that had she been present, she would have done everything in her power to talk me out of what I was about to do.

  She can be very persuasive.

  After a couple of slow passes through the subdivision, I rolled my truck to a stop behind the evergreen hedgerow we had used for cover the night before and switched off the engine. I waited in silence, my view of the house slightly obscured, and fought to gather the courage I desperately needed.

  I had come here for a purpose. Roger had invaded both my vision and my nightmare. In the vision, he had demonstrated his overconfidence by taunting me and issuing a challenge. In my nightmare, he hedged his bet, playing on my fears in order to frighten me away. It might have worked had it not been for three haunting words-
“Why, Rowan, why?” In every nightmare, Ariel Tanner appeared before me and asked that question. I had come to fear that most of all each time I drifted off to sleep, simply because I didn’t have the answer. I couldn’t tell her, “Why.” I couldn’t even tell myself because I wasn’t even sure what she was asking. As nonsensical as it seemed, something deep inside kept telling me that if this little girl died, it would be my fault. My fault because I hadn’t tried hard enough to find the answer to “Why?”

  I was so deeply lost in my thoughts that my heart skipped a full beat when I heard the sudden tapping on my window. I snapped back from my distant stare with a startled jump and quickly turned. Carl Deckert was standing outside my window, hand raised as he prepared to rap his knuckles on the glass once again.

  “Hey. How’s it going?” I asked with a smile as I rolled the window downward.

  “Okay, if you like sitting around watching an empty house while a lonely old lady talks your ear off,” he replied. “If you don’t mind my asking, what’re you doin’ here?”

  His answer told me why I hadn’t spotted the surveillance. They must have set up shop in the house across the street. The one whose occupant Roger had thought of as the “nosy old bitch.”

  “Ben asked me to come out here and have another look at the place,” I spoke quickly, hoping he wouldn’t see through to the truth. “He wanted me to see if I could pick up anything else that might help.”

  “Why didn’t he come with you?” he asked suspiciously.

  I said the first thing that popped into my mind, and it actually sounded pretty good. “He said something about keeping that FBI agent busy, so she wouldn’t get in the way.”

  “Yeah, those two are a piece of work,” he grunted. “She was there waiting for him this morning. They still hadn’t stopped chewing on each other when I left. I guess he probably just forgot to tell me you were coming.”

  “Could be,” I said aloud, while inside my head I was saying, “Don’t call him. Don’t call him.”

  He grinned and nodded, “Yeah, that’s probably it. Hell, this guy’s not gonna show up here anyway. You want me to go in with you?”