Hunting Witches

by Jeffery X Martin

  The greater good.

  Sheriff Graham Strahan fidgeted with his hand and stared out of the car window at the old Brackins place, fogging the windows with hot breath and indecision.

  “Well, son,” he said to himself, “do it or don’t.”

  Strahan stared at the front door for a few more seconds before shaking his head, starting the car and driving away.

  ***

  “All I’m saying, Sheriff, is I think I’m ready.”

  Graham rubbed his forehead with his right hand. “I don’t know, Deputy Moon. You’ve only been in this department, what, three weeks longer than I have? And I worked in Knox County for years.”

  Moon stuck his hands in his pockets. “So you’re saying you don’t think I’m ready.”

  “I’m saying you’re jumping the gun.”

  Deputy Moon pulled a chair over and sat down in front of Sheriff Strahan’s desk. “Permission to speak frankly?”

  The Sheriff shrugged. “Weren’t we?”

  The deputy spoke in a low tone, as if he were relaying a wonderful rumor. “Look, Graham. I’ve been working right by your side since the Boyle case. I’ve learned a lot from you. And we don’t even have anyone ranked as a detective on the force.”

  “Look, we’re a small force, Kevin. We all do what the play calls for, when the play calls for it. I don’t care if it’s writing tickets or catching a murderer. I don’t have time to think about labels and such. I did remember to name you special deputy.”

  “Right! I’m basically your sidekick!”

  The sheriff laughed. “All right, Boy Wonder. Settle down. Here’s what’s happened, according to me. You are eager. You want to do a good job so much that it makes you awkward. And I’ve got to tell you, Kevin, as much as you have been right by my side, there have been so many things I have shielded you from. You don’t know. Part of me thinks you’re better off not knowing. Maybe I need you where you are right now.”

  “I don’t understand. It just feels like you’re trying to keep me down.”

  “Kevin,” Graham said. “I’m trying to keep you alive.”

  “I think you’re being overly dramatic, Sheriff,” Kevin said.

  “Don’t be offended, man,” Graham said, settling back in his chair. “Your time is coming. But that time is not right now.”

  The desk phone buzzed, and Graham punched the intercom button. “Yes, Tamara?”

  “There’s a man here to see you, Sheriff.”

  Graham shook his head. “Does he have a name?”

  “Hold on,” Tamara said. There was a scraping sound as she put her hand over the headset mic, and Graham and Kevin could faintly hear her ask the man what his name was.

  “I can’t believe you hired her, Graham,” Kevin Moon said. “I swear I can’t understand your decision making process.”

  Graham shrugged. “She passed the exam. She graduated from the Academy. She’s good at what she does, for the most part.”

  “She was the suspect in a murder case! You yourself said you think she did it!”

  “It was never proven and she was never convicted,” Graham stated. “Her record is clean, and she is now an officer of the law, just like you.”

  “I don’t trust her,” Kevin said, pouting like a kid who didn’t get his way.

  “You better learn,” Graham said. “She might save your ass one day.”

  Tamara came back on the speakerphone. “His name is Joe Nance and he’s from the Historical Society. He says he has some information for you?”

  “All right, then,” Graham said. “Send him in.”

  Joe Nance was a big guy. His shoulders scraped both sides of the door frame as he entered. Once Graham saw how big the man’s hands were, he was amazed Nance hadn’t crushed the doorknob. Nance was a smiler, and he grinned at Graham and Kevin as he came in. Pleasantries were exchanged, and Nance managed not to crush any delicate finger bones during the shaking of hands.

  Graham motioned to the chair Kevin had been sitting in. “Have a seat, Mr. Nance,” Graham said. Graham also sat down in his official Sheriff’s chair, while Kevin stood behind him, arms crossed, a stern look on his face, the strong but silent protector.

  “My officer says you have some information for me, Mr. Nance,” Graham said.

  “Please,” the visitor said with a dismissive wave. “Call me Josie.”

  Graham smiled. “What’s the information concerning, Josie?”

  Nance glanced up at Deputy Moon. “Well, I…”

  Graham picked up on Nance’s visual cue. “Don’t worry about Special Deputy Moon,” Graham said. “Anything you can say in front of me, you can say in front of him.” Kevin smirked and nodded.

  Nance shrugged. “The choice is yours, Man of Law.”

  Graham stiffened and stared into Nance’s eyes, without smiling. Nance returned the favor, his face emotionless.

  Suddenly, Graham turned in his seat towards Kevin. “Deputy, would you do me a favor?”

  “Yes, sir,” the officer said.

  Graham reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “Run up to The Meal Worm and get this gentleman and myself two large coffees and a couple pieces of chocolate pie.”

  “But you just said…”

  “I know, but this is important.”

  Deputy Moon was crestfallen. He felt like he was once again being asked to leave the room because the grown-ups were talking. “Can I just…”

  “What, Deputy?” Graham was getting frustrated.

  Deputy Moon bent down and whispered in the Sheriff’s ear. “Well, you said I was your sidekick, right?”

  “Can we have this conversation later, Officer?”

  “Yeah, but, how come I don’t get pie?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “If I’m your sidekick, I should get coffee and pie, too.”

  “Good Lord, son. Yes. Please let me treat you to some coffee and pie. Okay? I would enjoy that.”

  The officer stood back up. “Of course, Sheriff. That’s three coffees and three slices of chocolate pie. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Graham handed Kevin some cash, and the officer left the room, leaving the sheriff alone with the mysterious stranger.

  “You called me ‘Man of Law,’” Graham said. “Only one other person has called me that.”

  Nance chuckled. “I thought that might get your attention.”

  Graham nodded. “Yeah. Sure did. Surely you aren’t Na’atal? It was my understanding all those men were dead.”

  “The bloodline lives on through the women,” Nance said. “I know of them, but I am not one. There are only twelve of them left in town. I was pleased to see one of them working for you!”

  “Tamara just started,” Graham said. “She’s got the heart for it and she’ll get better with practical experience. But enough about that. Who are you? Really?”

  Nance shuffled forward in his chair, which was almost too small for him. He put his hands on his knees and rested his head on his clasped hands. He stared at Graham, his brown eyes almost black. He seemed to be taking in not just Graham’s physical being, but something else, too. Something more ethereal. Finally, the man took a deep breath and began to speak.

  “I know the symbol Will Brackins carved into your hand, the one you keep hidden under that glove. I also know about the symbol on the wall in the Brackins house. The one your good deputy hung the mirror in front of. I know about your book, the one handed down through generations of Men of Law. And I know that you can’t sleep. That you’ve been having dreams where someone says the words, ‘Three are coming.’”

  Graham slapped his palms down on his desk. “All right, Mr. Nance. How the fuck am I supposed to respond to that? Do I arrest you or worship you?”

  “Neither, preferably,” Nance replied.

  “So answer my original question. Who are you? Really?”

  Nance smiled in a friendly way. “Just a concerned citizen, Sheriff. I have a picture I would like to show you, if you
will allow me. I left it outside. It’s kind of large.”

  “By all means,” Graham said. “You have my full attention.”

  Nance got up and ducked into the hallway for a moment. While he was gone, Graham looked at the walls of his office. He had meant to redecorate right after he had been elected, but had never gotten around to it. The pictures that hung there now made up a strange timeline. They were all photos of previous sheriffs of The Keep at their swearing in ceremonies. All the newly elected men had some kind of bandage on their left hands. Graham looked down at his own gloved left hand. He told people he had been burned. That was a lie, and Joseph Nance knew it. He wondered how many others did, too.

  “Can we move a couple things off your desk, Sheriff?” Nance asked. He was carrying a big picture in a black frame. It looked like he had just plucked it off his wall and brought in for show and tell. Graham moved some files and his coffee cup to the edge, and Nance gently placed the picture down on the desk.

  “This,” Nance said, “is an aerial view of good old Elders Keep. Have you ever seen it from above?”

  “Can’t say that I have,” Graham replied.

  There was an edge of excitement in Nance’s voice, like he was finally getting to reveal a secret he had kept too long. “Look at the roads!” he exclaimed. “Look at the treelines! See how we’re hemmed in?”

  “Yeah, that’s why we don’t have a tourism department in town. We’re just a stop on the way to other places that aren’t so bound up.”

  “You’re missing the grand design, Sheriff. Step back. Look at the big picture.”

  “No puzzles this morning, please,” Graham said. “Just tell me what I’m seeing, Mr. Nance.”

  Nance put his finger on the glass. “Here’s where Kemper Highway rolls in on the south side of town. We’ve got mountains over here on the east and the west, once you get past The Store. Banyon’s Creek runs down to the north. Then, we’ve got Wednesday Ridge right here! And that kind of cuts of through the northwest corner of town. Do you see?”

  Graham did not see. He shrugged his shoulders in silence.

  “I guess it looks like a star?” Graham asked.

  Nance clapped his hands. “Not just a star, Sheriff. A pentagram.”

  “Mr. Nance, let’s stop pretending I know anything about what you’re trying to show me, okay? Layman’s terms.”

  “Nature itself set Elders Keep apart, Sheriff. From ancient times, the five-pointed star has been a symbol of protection. If you draw a circle around a pentagram, everything within that circle is safe on a spiritual level. That’s why witches and others who follow some of the older spiritual pathways revere it so.”

  “Yeah, but it’s also used by Satanists and heavy metal kids as a symbol of pure evil, right?”

  “An inverted pentagram is considered by some to by evil, yes. Not everyone considers it to be so. The usage of the symbol is up to the user, of course, but the truth of the symbol remains. Elders Keep, and the woods surrounding it, is a sacred spot. Now. Here’s what you can’t see. Do you know what a leyline is, Sheriff?”

  “I’ve heard the term,” Graham said.

  “Leylines,” Nance continued, “are places where energies meet and align. You can think of it as magnetism. A leyline is like a force field. They occur naturally, especially in an area like this, where we have the mountains all around us. As the mountains erupted from the earth, cracking tectonic plates, they set loose all sorts of energy, energy that still emanates to this day. And again, like a magnet, you would be surprised at what those leylines both attract and repel.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Nance’s eyes were wide and bright. Graham could imagine him practicing this whole discourse in the mirror before he showed up this morning.

  “Think of this,” Nance said. “You’re in the woods. There’s a natural path you follow. You just know it’s the right way to go, and you follow it. Animals do it all the time. There’s an attraction. After a while, the paths became trails. As industry and technology marched through the South, the trails became roads. The roads became highways. Hell, Kemper Highway follows one of the biggest, longest leylines in the south! People think they planned these things, did studies and made conscious, informed decisions about where to build. Hell, no. Nature decided that, eons before a city planner ever looked at a map.”

  “Okay, I’m following you so far,” Graham said. “And let me venture a guess. Out by The Store, where the town basically turns into the mountains, is another leyline.”

  Nance clapped again, and pointed at Graham. “That’s right! The leyline out there is so fucked up and negative, nobody can build out past The Store. Oh, there are all kinds of excuses for not doing it. It’s not economically feasible, the soil won’t perk, whatever. As people, we follow our primal instincts and we allow ourselves to be fenced in, by nature itself, within our natural circle of protection. It’s instinct. And therein lies the problem.”

  “What problem?”

  “Nature gave Elders Keep all these opposing forces, but it did not give it a circle. There’s no natural boundary.”

  “This matters?”

  Nance sighed. “This town is like no other in the country. Maybe the world. There are so many conflicting energies here. Attraction and repulsion. Good and evil. Ancient collides with old, love and hate get all bungled up and there’s nothing to hold those things in, nothing to keep things in check. Nothing but you, Man of Law.”

  “Okay, crazy guy,” Graham said. “I’m not sure I want to hear the rest of your spiel. Elders Keep is just a town, like any other town, and every town needs law enforcement because people do stupid and bad things.”

  “That’s a half-truth, Man of Law,” Nance said, “and you know it. You do not want to believe. You want to stay asleep, and you can’t! Not with this position you hold. Haven’t you seen enough here? You’ve met a race of people thought extinct! The man who held this office before you carved a pentagram into your hand. He carved a circle around it. And in the center of the pentagram, he sliced three straight lines, to indicate balance.”

  “How do you know this?” Graham was feeling hemmed in. “I’ve never shown anyone my hand since it happened.”

  “That’s the mark!” Nance waved his hands in the air, excited. “I’ve talked to your predecessors, Sheriff! All the Men of Law have borne that symbol. I also know that it itches and burns. Sometimes, your skin swims. Different symbols rise up in the pentagram, and you don’t know what they mean, so you’ve been ignoring them. It’s never occurred to you that the mark is a living thing, and when it begins to bother you, it requires your attention. You need to do something. And you need to learn how to decode these things to know what needs to be done to keep the balance. You are the circle, Sheriff. Right now, and until you are no longer in this office, you are the only thing keeping this town from tearing itself apart.”

  The door to Graham’s office burst open and Deputy Moon stumbled in with a white paper bag and a cardboard tray holding three cups of coffee. “Coffee and pie, guys!”

  Graham and Nance both glared at Moon like he had just crashed into their restroom stall during a private moment.

  “Did I interrupt something?” he asked.

  “No, Deputy, that’s fine,” Graham said. “Mr. Nance was just leaving.”

  “Oh! Well, here let’s get you situated so you can take some coffee and pie with you.” He set the food and drinks down on top of Joseph Nance’s photo, and removed a white foam box from the bag. He handed it to Nance, who was standing. Moon also gave him his cup of coffee.

  The big man thanked Moon politely, and then turned to Graham. “I’m not your enemy, Sheriff. Far from it. And we’ll talk again soon.” He stuck out his hand, and Graham took it.

  “That remains to be determined, Mr. Nance,” Graham said, “but this has certainly made for an interesting afternoon. Don’t forget your picture.”

  Nance picked up the print with one hand, tucked it up under his arm and left
the office.

  “What did I miss, Sheriff?” Moon asked.

  Graham took the lid off his cup of coffee and took a tenuous sip. “I’m not sure, Deputy. I’m really not sure.”

  ***

  The road was beginning to boil and the tall black man was screaming while the drums from the woods grew louder until they filled his head with binaural rhythms that made his eyes blur and the little girl had a tornado in her hand and his cell phone rang and rang until finally…

  Graham answered the phone. “It is ten o’clock at night, and I am asleep, so this better be really good or really bad.”

  “Sorry, Sheriff,” Deputy Moon said. “I was on my way out of the station when we got a vandalism call. Out in Vanishing Pointe.”

  “You called me for spray paint?”

  “No, somebody busted in the front window of a house and the people called it in.”

  “Somebody lives in Vanishing Pointe? That’s new.”

  “Figured you might want to head out there with me.”

  Graham cleared his throat. “Well, ‘want to’ is a bit strong, but I’ll do it. Give me ten minutes. I’ll swing by and pick you up. Was it their living room window?”

  “Yes, sir,” Kevin replied. “How did you know?”

  “All those damned houses look the same to me. Well, call the people or person back and tell them we’ll come in through the back door and not to mess with anything in the front room. Get the white suits rolling, too.”

  “Yes, sir, I’m on it. See you in a few.” The deputy clicked off.

  Goddammit, Graham thought. We need more officers. Got to talk to the Mayor about the budget around here.

  It had been discussed before, but overall, the crime rate in Elders Keep was pretty low. They couldn’t justify hiring another officer, especially so soon after bringing Tamara on. It would be another six months before the council would even consider another expenditure. That meant half a year of little sleep, few days off and lots of general grumpiness.

  Graham took off his comfortable Tennessee Titans sleep pants and pulled on his work uniform. He checked himself in the mirror when he was finished. Yep, his name badge was still shiny and he had everything attached to his belt.