Hunting Witches

by Jeffery X Martin

  When the call came through, Mark was greeted by four guys around his age, wearing T-shirts. The one in charge of the interview was named Bo.

  “Yeah, man,” Bo said, “the four of us worked for companies in Knoxville and just, I don’t know, got sick of it. So we said fuck it and we moved out to Bell Plains. Started our own company. Dynagraph. Like ‘Dynamic Graphics.’ Now, not only are we doing websites for local businesses, we’ve got some international clients as well, and we’re starting to venture into smartphone apps.”

  “Well, my background is in statistics analysis, Bo,” Mark said. “I don’t know if I’m going to be a good fit for the position you’ve offered.”

  Bo wrinkled his brow. “What? Nah, fuck that, man. I get feelings about people, you know? And I’ve got a feeling about you, man. A good feeling. That’s why I want you for this position. It’s time for you to break out of that mold, man. Let your imagination run free. My experience has been that some of the most creative, freaky people are stuck in jobs where they can’t make freaky creative things. That’s society bullshit. Come on, dude. You’re ready. Take this chance.”

  Mark frowned. “It’s a big move, Bo.”

  Bo clapped his hands. “It’s a big opportunity, Mark! And you’re ready for it. I’ll prove it. Stand up.”

  Mark grew pale. “I’m sorry?”

  “I’ve got a theory, Mark, and it involves you, right now. Do it, man. Stand up.”

  Mark cleared his throat and stood. The guys at Dynagraph now had a clear view of where his tie ended and his white shirt.

  “Back up,” Bo said.

  Sighing, Mark did as he was asked. Now, his potential future employers had a face full of Mark’s boxers, bright red with a pattern of tiny electric guitars and amplifiers all over them.

  The professionals at Dynagraph laughed and clapped.

  “I knew it, man! I fuckin’ knew it!” Bo said. “Look at you, man! You’ve been doing the no pants dance this whole time! And you’re a rocker! You rock, but you think you have to hide it. Half suit, half rock star. Come on, man. Rock out with us. I mean, keep your cock in your pants, but still, totally rock out! Come up and spend the day with us. See how we work. We really do work. You married?”

  “Yeah,” Mark stammered. “Nika. Her name is Nika.”

  “Bring her, dude! We’ll take the two of you out for lunch at this awesome place we know. You can poke around and see what’s what. I really think this is going to work, man.”

  Mark laughed. “This is not what I expected at all, Bo.”

  Bo smiled. “Thank God for that. Next Friday. Be here around eleven in the morning. We’ll put you up overnight and you can take the weekend to think it over.”

  “That sounds great, Bo. Thank you! I’m overwhelmed.”

  “Awesome. High five.” Bo held his hand up to the webcam. Mark reciprocated, lightly smacking the built-in camera on his computer with his palm.

  “Fuck, yeah!” Bo said. “See you next Friday, bro!”

  The house was silent then, and Mark was a bit dizzy. “That was weird,” he said aloud to himself, just to hear some sound. Then he picked up the phone to call Nika.

  “Hey, babe,” he said when she answered. “Can you take Friday off? Maybe Monday, too. We need to take a trip.”

  ***

  It’s always rush hour in Atlanta, and getting out of town was a white-knuckle nightmare. Mark was driving, and to him, the average speed of the cars around him was the speed of light.

  “I thought you were going to drive,” he said, through gritted teeth.

  “I don’t care to drive,” Nika said. “You want to pull over?”

  “Here? Shit, no. We’ll get pummeled if we pull to the shoulder!”

  “Well, Mad Max, I suggest you go the legal speed limit and let these people go around you. If they’re in such a damned hurry, let ‘em pass you.”

  It seemed logical. Mark drove at the speed limit. When the honking behind him began, he could ignore it. When people started whipping around him and cutting over into his lane without using their turn signals, it was scary, but he could handle it. When the eighteen-wheeler tried to drive up his ass and braked so hard, it started to fishtail, Mark sped up.

  “You know, Nika, it’s important to go with the flow of traffic,” he said. “These people will run you over.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” she replied, smiling and staring straight ahead.

  The traffic began to thin out around Acworth, and by the time they hit Dalton, close to the state border, traffic was sparse and manageable. Mark slid the sunroof open and turned up the radio. The only station coming in without fading into shards of static was a classic rock outfit out of Knoxville. “Whipping Post” came blaring through the speakers. Nika began bobbing her head and singing along. She sang under her breath at first, but by the time the chorus hit, she was at full volume, face scrunched up.

  “It cracks me up how much you love this song,” Mark said.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” she said during the guitar solo. “It’s Allman Brothers, baby! Every girl from Hotlanta worth a damn knows Allman Brothers.”

  By the time they hit the split between interstates 75 and 40, Mark and Nika were both singing with the radio, regardless of how bad the song was or if they knew the words. This was becoming a road trip, not just a drive to the most important job interview of Mark’s life.

  “It’s sort of like a vacation,” Nika said. “Dynagraph is paying for the hotel for the night. Maybe we can upgrade to a hot tub room.”

  Mark laughed. “I can see me asking Bo that. ‘Hey, Boss, thanks for the room and everything, but can you call the hotel and see if we can get one with a trapeze?’”

  “From what you’ve told me about Bo,” she replied, “he would probably do it.”

  Knoxville flew by, with only a little congestion around the Cedar Bluff area. Downtown was a bit of a cluster, with some confusing signage, but all they had to do was stay on I-40 East and they would be at their destination. The road shrank from four lanes to two, and soon they were surrounded by miles of blooming redbud trees.

  Mark grew quiet as they got closer to Bell Plains, going over possible interview questions in his head, wondering how he would answer. Bo was cool, but he seemed a bit nuts. He was sure there was nothing Bo wouldn’t ask, legal or not. Nika sensed his tension and squeezed his leg, then patted it. Mark grabbed her hand for a second. It is going to be okay, he thought. We can do this.

  Nika pointed. The sign for their exit loomed over the interstate. Mark nodded in acknowledgement and pulled into the right lane. Nika checked her phone.

  “According to my GPS, we have to drive through one other town to get to Bell Plains, so we’re about half an hour out. We might be a few minutes late, but not too bad.”

  “We’ll see,” Mark said. “If we need to, we’ll stop and call Bo, tell him we’re in town and give him an ETA. I hate to be late.”

  “Sometimes you can’t help it,” Nika said.

  Mark clicked the turn signal on and they exited the interstate.

  The speed limit dropped to 45, and Nika did some quick math. “We should get there right on time, Paleface,” she said. “Maybe even five minutes early.”

  “Should I speed up a little?” Mark asked.

  “I don’t know what the cops are like around these parts,” Nika said. “Just keep steady.”

  “Oh, hey!” Mark pointed at the green roadside sign.

  ELDERS KEEP CITY LIMITS, it read.

  “Is that the town we have to go through to get to Bell Plains?”

  Nika checked the map on her phone and nodded. “That’s it.”

  “Okay. Oh, shit. We’re almost there. I am nervous as shit, Nika.”

  “You’re going to be fine, Mark. Just relax. Be yourself.”

  “I would be more comfortable being someone else,” Mark muttered.

  He frowned and tightened his grip on the wheel. Nika turned down the radio so he could think and get the nervousness out of h
is system. She believed in him more than he believed in himself, which was annoying at times, but he always pulled through in the end. After all, they were here, weren’t they? He was making an honest effort to do what he said he would do.

  Then they were driving through Elders Keep proper. Mark was unimpressed, and bothered by the lack of an apostrophe in the town name on the city limits sign. However, other signs in the town itself spelled it the same way. He still thought it was weird.

  There wasn’t much to Elders Keep as far as scenery went, but something about it was charming to Nika. She marveled at the downtown, the old buildings, the sense of impending decay. She laughed at some of the names of places. Only somebody with a wonderful sense of humor would name a restaurant “The Meal Worm.” It seemed like the epitome of entropy, a town closing in on itself. It was the opposite of Atlanta, and Nika was charmed.

  She cocked her head. She turned to Mark. “Do you hear that?”

  Mark kept his eyes on the road. “Hear what?”

  Nika shrugged. “I don’t know. Sounded like drums.”

  “That’s my heart, pounding away in my chest, primed to explode.”

  “No, I know what that sounds like,” she said. “This is different.”

  “You’ve got a mean streak in you, babe.”

  She laughed, but it wasn’t funny. She did hear drums, coming from somewhere inside Elders Keep, even if she couldn’t pinpoint the precise location. She felt the strange urge to dance, and in her mind were visions of fire.

  All of these things only lasted a few seconds, and soon they were surrounded by fast food restaurants and gas stations. The Keep was behind them, and the consumer-driven sprawl of Bell Plains lie ahead.

  “Jesus,” Mark said. “It’s like a miniature Atlanta.”

  “At least people are using their turn signals here,” Nika said.

  “What’s my next move, navigator?”

  “Left at the next light, second street on the right, second building on the left,” she said.

  “Left, right, left. All right.”

  He checked the time. Seven minutes to go.

  “There it is!” Nika said. “I see the sign.”

  Mark made the left turn and pulled into the parking lot. He took a deep breath and exhaled. “I have to pee so bad,” he said. “I wonder if we can do the interview while I’m peeing, because I think have to pee for about thirty minutes.”

  “That would make a great first impression,” Nika said. “’My goodness, Mr. Pendleton, that’s a fantastically steady stream of urine you’ve produced. You’re hired.’”

  “My god,” Mark said. “This is going to be easy. Well, they invited us both out for lunch, so I suppose you should come in with me.”

  “Cool,” Nika said. “Want me to hold it for while you pee?”

  “You should pee with me,” Mark said. “We’ll instantly establish ourselves as a power couple.”

  “You mean a pee-er couple,” Nika said.

  They got out of the car, locked the doors and entered the offices of Dynagraph. As soon as they walked in, Mark was hit in the face with a beach ball. This was a surprise, and Mark sucked in his breath and the ball hit the ground.

  “AWWW!” said six unhappy Dynagraph employees, their voices falling in unison.

  “You let it hit the ground, man!” one of them said.

  “I’m sorry! I didn’t know!” Mark said.

  “Now we have to buy the code monkeys margaritas,” the employee said.

  “Hold on, hold on!” came a voice from the back of the office. Mark and Nika could hear someone running towards them. It was Bo, wearing a bright Hawaiian shirt and a pair of uncomfortably small swimming trunks.

  “That’s a do-over, folks,” Bo said. “This guy’s a civilian, for now, anyway. Doesn’t count! Play on!”

  A cheer erupted throughout the office. Bo picked up the beach ball and threw it back into play. The people in the office jumped for the ball and resumed their game. Bo wrapped his arm around Mark’s shoulder. “Sorry, man, it’s Extremely Casual Friday,” he said. “Good to finally meet you in person. I’m Bo. You must be Nika!” He extended his hand towards her, and she shook it.

  “Looks you guys have a lot of fun here,” she said.

  “Well, there’s a balance,” Bo said. “You just can’t see it right now. Come on, y’all! Let’s go to lunch, we’ll talk and take it from there. I’ll drive. You guys like fish?”

  The restaurant was called Down ‘n’ Trout, and their Friday special was all you can eat fried catfish and hush puppies. Bo put prodigious amounts of hot sauce on everything and before long, the entire table smelled like spicy douche.

  “Here’s the thing, y’all,” Bo said, between bites. “When we started we had some venture capital to help us get going. We’ve already paid them back with interest, and they have reinvested in the company. So we’ve got an office that’s already paid for a year in advance, we’re bringing in money from all of our clients and there’s nowhere to go but up. Nobody else in the county is doing the shit we’re doing. And honestly, if I tell our investors we just snagged a hot-shot from an ad agency in Atlanta, they’ll be happy to funnel more cash into the coffers.”

  “You sure found the right people to contact for backing,” Mark said.

  “Yeah, man!” Bo said. “My grandparents.”

  Nika couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you serious?”

  Bo put down his fork. “Hey. Nana and Pappy are fucking loaded. Back when this place was all farmland, they owned about four-hundred acres of it. They weren’t doing anything with it. It was just lying fallow. When the developers came in, they refused to sell. Where the mall is now, and the movie theater, that’s all Nana and Pappy’s land. They leased it to the developers for a hundred years, with an option to renew.”

  “Smart business,” Mark said.

  “Yeah, man,” Bo said. “I could have hung out, you know, and just waited for them to kick off, because I get the land when they go, but I really thought it was important that I do something on my own, you know? Get some independence.”

  Mark’s eyes grew wide, but he held in his laughter and took a quick drink of his soda.

  Bo put his elbows on the table. “Look,” he said. “I know how I come off. And I understand what I must look like to you. Some smart-ass rich kid who got lucky. You’re not wrong. I don’t apologize for it. But I’ve also got a business plan, a 401K, some kick-ass health insurance, which we pay fifty percent of, the ability to telecommute when necessary and the world at our feet. Are you really going to say no to this?”

  “You haven’t made me an offer yet, Bo.”

  “Seriously? I thought you understood. You were hired as soon as you walked through the door. All you had to do was show up. That’s how much confidence I have in you. Go ahead and give your two weeks, man.”

  “We haven’t talked about money or anything yet! This is moving really fast, Bo,” Mark said.

  “Fine,” Bo said. “We can do this the traditional way. I’m going to write a number down on this napkin. You make a counteroffer, if you need to, on the same napkin. This is very manly, Mark. I kind of like it. This whole bartering thing.”

  Bo pulled a pen out of his pocket and grabbed a napkin. He put his arm around it while he was writing, like he was trying to keep someone from copying his test answers. When he was finished, he slid the paper across the table to Mark, keeping his hand over it. He raised his eyebrow, smirked, and took his hand away.

  Mark picked up the napkin, holding eye contact with Bo until the very last second. When he looked down at the figure Bo had written, his eyes bulged and he coughed. He slapped the napkin back down on the table and nodded his head.

  “That’s fine,” Mark said. “That will be just fine, sure.”

  “Two year contract, to start with,” Bo said. “Is that cool?”

  “Yes, that’s cool.”

  “Are we going to discuss this at all?” Nika asked, offended. Mark slid the napkin ov
er to her. She looked at the figure, folded the napkin in half and put into her purse.

  “Continue,” she said, and took a bite of hush puppy.

  “I don’t have any of this paperwork with me, because I was distracted by the volleyball game at work,” Bo said, “but I’ll tell you what. Make it a weekend. I’ll extend your room at the hotel for checkout on Monday. Hang out in town. Get to know the area. Come in to the office Monday morning on your way out of town, and we’ll do all the signing and documentation and I-9 forms and shit. You can tour the place, we’ll start getting your office ready and you can start in, say, a month. Does that work out for you?”

  Mark and Nika both nodded, dumbfounded.

  “Cool,” Bo said. “Now hurry up and finish your dinner. There’s a caramel pie here so good and sweet, it comes with a side syringe of insulin. Coffee’s strong, too.”

  Conversation over dessert was easy and cheerful. The ride back to the office consisted of Bo playing tour guide, pointing out places of interest (“I wrecked my first car there! First time I threw up in public was right on that sidewalk. It was so gross, but you never forget your first time, right?”). Back at their car, Mark and Nika both shook Bo’s hand.

  “Thank you so much for the opportunity, Bo,” Mark said. “We’ll hammer out the details on Monday.”

  “For sure, man,” Bo said. “If you have any questions about anything over the weekend, give me a call. I’ll probably be here.” He gave Mark a business card.

  “Bo, what do you know about the town we drove through to get here?” Nika asked.

  “What, the Keep?” Bo laughed. “Elders Keep. It’s a fucking ghost town, man. Bell Plains just dwarfs it. There’s nothing over there but yesterday.”

  Nika nodded her head and got into the car. Mark and Bo talked for a few more seconds about directions to the hotel. She was unconvinced by what Bo had said. She had heard those drums. She had. There was no way to talk her out of that fact. Maybe a little exploring was necessary.