I was in love with all of what made up Dane, not just enamored with his physique. The moment our lips touched the first time, it was like the entire journey of my life shifted. I knew he would be my companion on the trek, which is why what just happened on the floor of his living room made no sense at all. There had been, at least on my end, nothing but raw carnality to the act. It was intoxicating and repulsive at the same time.
I wouldn’t even look at the sack of Pure-Grade Bits! on the floorboard. Looking at them made the last thirty-plus hours come alive again. Through sleep deprivation and fear, it seemed I had almost believed the sack of crap Papa Joe fed us last night and early this morning. No, that wasn’t fair—we wanted to believe him. We craved the simplistic answer of the note’s origin just as much as Ms. Johnson had. His voice was as smooth as sweet molasses and full of just as much sugar, and the stories acted like a soothing salve on us all.
But then he started talking inside my head. Could he do the same with Mom and Meemaw? Others? Or was I just a sliver away from plunging into insanity to even believe such a thing? Had I just been fooling myself all these years, thinking I had gotten away with killing Nana?
Oh, Jesus, what is wrong with me? Please, please help me, Lord. I don’t know what to do or say. Or think. If I’m going crazy or this is some form of divine punishment, please make it fast.
I slammed my fists on the old steering wheel so hard, the entire truck shook from the impact. No, I am not going to let stupid, silly childhood fears invade my life again. I was eighteen years old for goodness sake, not some naïve nine-year-old child, easily swayed by my emotions. What…did I really think I had turned into some werewolf or furry monster and snuck over to Nana’s, chased her down through the woods in the dead of night, and then ripped her to shreds? How insane was that idea? Improbable. People didn’t turn into other beings except for in movies and books. And my little nightmare about the Shadow-Man, and Tinker turning into an enormous panther-like cat, was just like Mom said—a dream. One brought on from listening to Nana’s crazy stories. Besides, I loved Nana. I would never hurt her. Period. She died from her wounds after being attacked by a bear. Ol’ Ralph even caught and killed the nasty beast.
But that rationale didn’t explain my vision. I was there. Felt it in my heart and soul. Was it possible my mental ties were so strong to Nana’s I had actually seen what happened through her eyes? Had she somehow reached out with her mind, maybe because she was so frightened, and sent her last moments on Earth into my brain?
Another improbable scenario but one that made a bit more sense to me was telekinetic in origin. Even though I didn’t believe in psychic ability, it was surely a better explanation than thinking I had morphed into some blood-thirsty creature and killed my sweet great-grandmother. Plus, if I had turned into some monster, why hadn’t I turned again? What could Nana have ever done to make me want to kill her?
No. No way. It was just some weird fluke, a freak of nature. And the dream about Tinker was simply a nightmare brought on from the overactive imagination of a child. Maybe my nine-year-old self was still freaked out from the nightmare about the Shadow-Man. Made my brainwaves more open to suggestion and Nana’s life force—energy or whatever it was—transferred itself across the expanse of the town and into my malleable mind.
“Yeah, keep tellin’ yourself that, Sheryl. Still doesn’t explain how Papa Joe spoke inside your head, now does it?” I said out loud inside the cab of the truck. The sound of a car horn screeched in my ears, and it jerked me back to reality. Great, how long had I been sitting at the four-way stop, lost in these crazy thoughts?
I gave the pedal some gas and continued to drive. Lost in my own mind, not paying any attention to the road, I nearly jumped out of my skin when my cell phone rang. As I turned right onto Highway 73, I broke one of Daddy’s cardinal rules and answered it when I saw the call was from Barb. I needed the distraction from my disturbing thoughts.
“Hey sweetie. I just left the diner. Your mom said you went to visit Dane. How’s he doin’?”
“Hey, Barb. Yeah, just left his place. He’s okay…just a bit unnerved. Who wouldn’t be though, right?”
“Girl, I wouldn’t be able to set foot in my house again if one of my family members died in it. That’s too creepy for me. I’d insist we move. Or I’d move in with you until after graduation.”
“It’s not like it’s a crime scene or somethin’, Barb. The man had a heart attack. He was over ninety years old. That’s what happens when you get older—you die.”
“I don’t care how it happened. He died. Took his last breath there in the place. Yikes. And if he wasn’t ready to go, his soul might hang around and haunt the place. Wouldn’t surprise me one bit. I mean, the place is beautiful, but it’s also old and full of a lot of other sad events, I reckon.”
“Barb, lay off the horror movies, will you?”
Barb laughed, her voice light and airy across the airwaves. “It’s all your fault I watch them to begin with, you know. Now, enough talk about the dead. Are you still pickin’ me up for practice at six?”
“Well, duh. You’re the one who told me your car won’t be fixed until next week, remember?”
“Gee, you’re wound tight today, aren’t you? And here I thought a visit with your honey would make it all better. Guess you didn’t have time to get any, huh?”
“Barb!”
“Oh, I’m just yankin’ your chain. So, six, right? And what about our run after? We still on for that?”
“I’m not sure. I asked Dane if he wanted to run and really didn’t get an answer. If he decides to take me up on the offer, do you mind?”
“Bowin’ out? Of course not. Wouldn’t want to get in the way of you two love birds. Remember, you’ve told me before about your wild sessions. I might get hurt.”
“You are too much, you know that?” I said, laughing as I pulled into my driveway.
“Would you please try to convince Roger Hinkley of that? Can’t get that boy to look twice my way. He needs someone to tell him how wonderful I am and that he should ask me out. Oh, and you could mention the fact I’ve been takin’ gymnastics forever and how bendable I am.”
“I will do no such thing! You want him…you go after him. Any prize worth havin’ is best won by usin’ your own skills, not relyin’ on someone else to pick up your slack. Listen, I’ve gotta run. If I don’t get back to the diner, Mom will skin me alive.”
“Hmph! Some best friend you are. I’ll remember this the next time you ask me for a favor.”
I shut the engine off and started to step out of the truck when I spied the full bag of dog food on the floorboard. My stomach did a little flip flop, and I couldn’t open the truck door fast enough. “Barb…call the dude. This isn’t the Civil War era, you know. Women are allowed to take control of their lives—encouraged to do so, actually. If you want Roger, go get him.”
“Oh, if I only had a tenth of your confidence. I’m not brash like you. I’m a reserved southern lady—at least that’s what my mother wants to believe.”
“Reserved? You? Wow, you’ve got your mom snowed. Remember, I’ve seen you in action at some of Stony Bamford’s parties. Ain’t nobody in this county who can shake what her momma gave her better than you can! Listen, you just work on your va-va-voom when you’re sober, okay? You are gorgeous, funny, and have a wicked sense of humor. Any guy would be lucky to call you his girlfriend. You need to believe that and quit whinin’ about what you wish you had and go get what you want. It’s as simple as that. You can still be a lady while snatchin’ your bit of happiness. Nothin’ wrong with that. Unless, of course, you pull a Tami Rogers. Now that I have issues with.”
Barb sighed. “Ugh. Don’t mention that tramp’s name. She makes me sick to my stomach. Bad enough we have to see her at practice every day, not to mention school. Skank. Oh, and recall, out of the two of us, I’m still pure. I may like to slug a few beers back and let my booty rock, but that’s it. So, back on topic. Your solution is easie
r said than done.”
“Hey, my number is at one and will stay at one. You’re pea green with envy because I’ve found my soulmate. Now, all you need to do is remember practice makes perfect, sweetie. Work on your confidence and make that call to Roger. Listen, I’ll see you at six, okay? Really, I’ve got to go. Catch you later.”
I clicked my phone shut before Barb had a chance to speak. As much as I loved her, I didn’t have time to cajole her into asking Roger Hinkley on a date. The girl had been pining for him for years. And in less than one week, we would start our senior year which meant she better hurry up before graduation took them both away from Junction City.
Before I climbed the stairs to the front door, I stopped and sent a quick text to Mom.
Food delivered @ home to get gym bag then on my way
The second I closed the front door, my phone beeped a response.
No need. Meemaw came back. Slow as Xmas here. Get some rest before practice. XO C U 2nite
I stood in the hallway and considered typing a response back, telling her to send Meemaw home and let me come finish the shift. She had to be exhausted. An irritating thought poked around inside my head, so instead I asked:
Where is Dad?
The house was quiet, only the slight hum of the air conditioner and fridge in the air. While I waited for Mom’s reply to my text, I glanced around the small living room. Nothing seemed out of place. It looked exactly like it did when we all left for work yesterday—lived in but homey. A cushion from the couch was on the floor, tossed haphazardly next to my worn out running shoes. The pile of newspapers was off kilter where Daddy had stacked them next to the fireplace after he read each one. Mom’s favorite coffee cup sat, half full, on the end table next to her recliner. Meemaw’s bag of knitting materials, with pink, green, and yellow yarn spilling out, rested next to her spot at the end of the couch.
Everything looked the same, but I couldn’t shake the sensation something was missing. Not right. Out of place. I backed out of the living room and into the kitchen, the sound of my flip-flops the only noise other than my breathing. In four strides, I was inside the doorway. My eyes scanned the area for anything amiss, only to be greeted by the same thing as in the living room—nothing. Even the bowl I had toasted bran flakes in almost two days ago sat in the exact place I left it—on the table.
Oh, good grief. This is ridiculous. Just go take a nap. Your brain needs a break.
I shook the silly fears away and headed to the stairs. When my phone beeped, I almost dropped it.
Dad is here. Cooking. Gave Papa Joe afternoon off. Stop by b4 practice. Luv u.
Okay, so I had the house to myself for a while. I considered calling Dane, but squashed the idea the second it appeared. All my ideas, even the thought of a shower, disappeared the second my feet landed on the top stair. My body froze as the stench assaulted me like a physical entity. The familiar aroma permeated every inch of me, winding through my body like snake venom. The hair on the back of my neck and arms stood straight up. It felt like my skin was on fire. The only other time I smelled it before, I thought it was fear. Somehow, I knew that was wrong.
It was the scent of death. A disgusting combination of mud, musk, decay, and something else I couldn’t quite place, yet I recognized.
Without conscious control, my body crouched and I hugged the wall. I made my way down the hall, following the stench. Though repulsed, I couldn’t fight the urge to discover the origins of the odor. As I neared Meemaw’s room, it grew stronger. My eyes cut both directions to ensure I was alone, and then they swept the small area of Meemaw’s bedroom. Nothing. Not a thing out of place or missing, just like the rest of the house.
But something, or someone, had been inside the house. Every nerve in my quaking body screamed the undeniable truth.
The scent trail was easy to follow, almost like it was a living, visible entity. It led straight to Meemaw’s dresser and ended at her jewelry box. Adrenaline raced through my veins, and my legs quivered in response. I knew, before I even reached the dainty box, what I was looking for would be gone.
It’s been in my house! In Meemaw’s room. Snooping, exploring, and it left its rank stench embedded inside the confines of our home.
I pushed away the disgust from the scent and picked up the box. On the underneath side was a hidden catch where Meemaw hid her real jewelry. Her diamond engagement ring from Papaw…the red ruby necklace she only wore during the holidays…and her most prized possession.
Nana’s totem necklace.
With a quick flick of my fingernail, I sprung the clasp and pulled out the hidden slip.
Please, please let it be there.
The pieces all fell into my sweating palm, accompanied by a small piece of paper crumpled amidst the gems. All except the one I was looking for. I had to force myself not to fling the contents across the room in anger. Instead, I set the box back on the dresser and walked over to her bed. My legs shook while I sat perched on the edge of Meemaw’s bed. I dumped the contents in my hand onto the stark white comforter and gave a final scan.
No necklace.
The crumpled note begged to be opened. When I picked it up, the scent of death made me gag. I grit my teeth and forced my rising anger down as I unraveled the paper.
Where you are, I’ve stood before. Where I am, you soon shall be. Nothing can protect you now.
I tried to control myself. I tried to squash the fury that burned inside of me as it raced through my bloodstream. Tried to ignore the compulsion to run and find whoever it was playing games with me and my family. Tried to tamp down the rage at the knowledge the thing had been inside my house. But the impulse to seek and destroy was too strong, my wants and needs ravaged by the red hot fury that turned my blood into flowing lava. Without thinking, I leapt from the bed and raced down the stairs, taking them two at a time. I veered to the right, tore through the kitchen, and yanked open the back door, my flip flops long gone.
I ran faster than I ever had before. A small part of me whispered to turn back, to get my keys and phone, to at least let someone know where I was going. I stomped the pathetic idea into mush with each thump of my feet on the grass. When I got to the six foot privacy fence that separated our yard from the McNeils’, I didn’t stop to open the gate. I simply jumped it as if it was only an inch off the ground.
What the hell?
No. No thinking. Only instincts guided me now—instincts to follow the scent of death inside my house. Strength pulsed through every muscle. Each step was sure and smooth. Heat tore through my body, but my breath came even and steady. My eyes sharpened, and I saw every movement around me with uncanny accuracy. I could hear every blade of grass bend under my bare feet, the shudder of car engines in the distance, a dog barking miles away. The dull thuds of hammers as they connected with their targets I knew came from the construction site at Cohestra.
Thoughts of those important to me vanished as the poison of rage devoured my soul. The deeper my respirations, the stronger the scent and constriction of my mind until nothing remained but pure, all-consuming wrath.
Find it. Kill it. Shred it into bloody pieces.
The scent controlled me now. I knew it wasn’t Nana—whatever or whomever it was just used her to get to me. Well, it wanted SIN? It was going to get me. Every single part of me—claws, fangs, and all. The carnal desires to kill and maim overrode everything else, and my body sprinted through the quiet, hot streets of Junction City and out to Caney Creek.
I was on the hunt.
For blood.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
In less than ten minutes at a full-out run, I was deep in the woods. Sweat poured off of me as I navigated my body through the dense forest. Each gulp of the humidity-soaked air made me feel like I was swallowing a mouthful of water. The smell waned but was still strong enough to follow. My ears were overloaded with the competing sounds around me. The shrill cadence of the insects, the throaty croaks of the frogs, the incessant chirps of the birds in the trees, and t
he sound of my feet as I ran seemed amplified with each breath. My legs thundered across the ground. Power surged through the muscles with each extension.
As I came to an opening in front of me where the sun’s rays peeked through the heavy canopy of shade trees, my muscles tensed as I jumped. The force propelled me nearly twenty feet, and I landed with a soft thump in the open glen. I stopped and crouched low, feeling exposed in the open area. Without moving my head, my eyes scanned the surroundings. My heart dropped into my stomach when I recognized the location. I stood in almost in the exact same spot where Nana’s mutilated corpse had been left to die. I sniffed the air and choked back a sob when the aroma of apples and talcum powder slammed into my nostrils.
No! It’s not possible. It’s been too many years. Oh, God, my mind is playing tricks on me. What is going on? Why am I here?
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