Black Moon Rising

by Ann Simas

  She exchanged a look with Trey. “I told them,” he said.

  “No, I don’t mind.” She dove into the retelling, explaining how the latest vision had differed from the others.

  Neither agent interrupted or asked any questions when she’d finished, which she found a little odd. “You don’t believe me,” she said.

  “Oh, we believe you, or we wouldn’t be on this mission to save Amorosi from being burned alive,” Spencer said.

  While she mulled that over, Butler spoke again. “We picked up your rifle. Nice night-vision scope on it. Thought you might like to have it back.”

  “I would, thanks.” After a brief hesitation, she asked, “Did you bring it with you?”

  “Yep.” Spencer turned in is seat to skewer her with a stern look. “I suppose you’re carrying, too.”

  “I have a Glock in my bag. I didn’t put on my holster in the house because I didn’t want to freak Elena out.”

  Trey turned to look at her. “You’re freaking me out.”

  “I doubt that,” she shot back, her tone dry. “How long ’til we get there?” she asked Butler.

  “Less than two hours. You might want to catch some shut-eye.”

  “I think I will,” Sunny said. She rolled up Elena’s jacket for a pillow and propped it against the window. She closed her eyes, but she had no intention of sleeping.

  Instead, she began to finesse the plan that taken root in her mind the moment she divined the FBI agents planned to go off on the hunt for Luca without her.

  . . .

  Despite her best intentions not to, Sunny dozed off.

  Trey gave her shoulder a gentle shake and said, “We’re here.”

  Instantly awake, she surveyed the surrounds. Trees, trees, and more trees.

  “We’ll walk in,” Butler said. “Spencer and I will take the lead, with you and Trey behind us and two sheriff’s deputies bringing up the rear. We have other teams that are approaching from the north and south.” He glanced down at his smartphone. “They’re pulling in right now.”

  More than a little surprised that she was being allowed to accompany the group, Sunny said, “That’s a relief. I was afraid it was just the six of us against an entire cult compound full of whackos.”

  “I thought you said Boyson was the one lighting the tinder.”

  “I did, but the clearing was clearly populated with eager faces.”

  The two agents exchanged a look, much like the one she often observed between Luca and Trey. They had that silent-language-between-partners down well. “Better let her grab that rifle from the back, too,” Spencer said.

  “I won’t need it,” Sunny said as she hopped out of the Expedition. In fact, she probably didn’t need her Glock, either. Nonetheless, she strapped on the holster so she wouldn’t draw suspicion from the five men, who seemed to already have her pegged as a gun-totin’ mama. She pulled on the denim jacket, which covered it well enough that it wouldn’t be noticed.

  And then she took a moment to say a prayer, asking God to help her do what she had to do to save the life of the man she loved.

  . . .

  Even though it was after 8:00 a.m., the blanket of branches overhead shaded the ground to near-darkness. The group of six resisted using flashlights, to prevent the cultists from observing their approach. Each step was taken with care to avoid stepping on broken branches, or into a hole burrowed by some forest creature.

  “How much further?” Trey asked, his voice low.

  Butler consulted his smartphone, which Sunny determined must be a satellite phone, if it was getting reception in the middle of nowhere in the Rockies.

  “Not much,” Butler said. “Maybe a hundred yards.” He spared the detective a look over his shoulder. “As you know, this GPS thing isn’t an exact science.”

  “But the clearing is sizable, so we should be pretty damned close,” Trey muttered.

  They continued on, in single file, silent and determined. When they reached a plateau of sorts, Butler put up his arm in a halt motion.

  Sunny stared hard through the trees, then looked back the way they’d come. Their progress so far had been uphill all the way. So much for foothills not being steep.

  When she refocused her gaze on what lay ahead, everything went blank for an instant and a vision overcame her.

  The details she had not been able to work out were splayed out before her in living color. In less than two minutes, she learned which parts of her plan needed adjustment and which would result in a successful outcome.

  By the time Butler turned to her and said, “Time for you to keep well behind us and out of sight,” she had already determined how to sneak away from them.

  “Do you understand, Sunny?” In a stern tone, he added, “We can’t be babysitting you.”

  She nodded and fell back, grateful for small favors. Trey shot her a look that implied he could read her mind, though she knew he couldn’t. “I get it, okay? Out of sight, out of mind. I’ll practically be invisible.”

  Trey scrutinized her for a couple seconds more, then grunted and moved on with the rest of his law enforcement crew.

  Sunny heaved a sigh of relief.

  Time for another prayer, this time asking God to help her keep her cool, because Heaven knew, she was going to need it.

  Chapter 39

  . . .

  Confident they wouldn’t call out for her when they discovered her invisibility hadn’t been an off-hand promise, Sunny moved far enough to the right of them that they were no longer visible. That meant they couldn’t see her, either.

  The key to her success would be keeping between the group she’d arrived with and the group assisting them to the north of her.

  She picked her way along carefully, moving much faster than the cops. From her vantage point behind a tree, she stopped once to observe them when they grew closer than she was comfortable with. Trey turned to look back for her, stopping long enough to do a serious scan of the trees. His hesitation told her he had concerns, but finally, he swung back and caught up with the others.

  She was going to have hell to pay later when this ordeal was over with and they took her to task for not following their instructions.

  Sunny didn’t care. In order for her plan to work, it had to happen that way. If they stormed the clearing and she hadn’t yet made her demands, Luca would be a goner, and a gun battle would ensue. Who knew how many would survive that? God knows, the country didn’t need a cultist clusterfuck, Rocky-Mountain style.

  Within minutes, she found herself just feet from the outer edge of the clearing. She kept chanting over and over to herself, I will not have an asthma attack, but her speedy progress up the hillside and the increased altitude were not working in her favor. Despite her silent lecture, she began to wheeze. She pulled her rescue inhaler from her pocket and took two deep whiffs.

  From where she stood, sheltered by a large tree, she could plainly see Luca, being tied in place. Clad only in the boxer shorts he’d worn the night before when he’d gone out to confront the intruders, he spewed profanities and threats at his captor. Boyson laughed, and didn’t seem to care that Luca was casting aspersions on his mother.

  Even from a distance, she could tell Luca was injured. His left rib cage sported a black-and-blue mark that had every appearance of a boot print. Dried blood caked the side of his face from an obvious head wound and his legs were battered and bruised.

  Sunny’s body clenched with the horror of what he’d endured at Boyson’s hands. She, of all people, knew how brutal the ex-cop could be.

  She unhooked her holster from her belt and shoved it down inside the waistband at her back. She’d practiced taking the safety off so many times, she thought she could do it in her sleep, but today, she hoped her fingers wouldn’t tremble and her hands wouldn’t shake if she had to pull the weapon out. Luca’s life might depend on her being steady and sure if she had to pull the trigger.

  In fact, she’d like nothing more at that moment than to use the
gun on Boyson and put the world out of its misery for having him in it. Even as she considered it, she realized the clearing was becoming populated.

  Her gaze raked the gathering onlookers. No one appeared to have a gun or other weapon, but then they were all dressed in robes, so it was difficult to tell for certain. Sally Box disengaged from the front of the circle and made her way toward Boyson. She pressed herself against him and they proceeded to kiss and grope each other in front of a rapt audience. Once they had disentangled, she moved back to her spot between two men who began to paw her just as Boyson had.

  Sickened by their lewd behavior and lack of compassion for a man about to be murdered, Sunny tore her eyes away to continue her scan of the crowd.

  A hum of excitement filled the air, which told her they were confident, not only in anticipation of watching Luca being burned at the stake, but in their obscurity. Fools, one and all.

  Her focus went back to Luca just as his foot wiggled loose from the rope binding him. His leg shot out and up, catching Boyson in the face.

  Boyson howled in pain, but quickly recovered in a rage. He withdrew a knife from the sheath at his waist and sprang toward Luca.

  “Stop!” came a bellowed command.

  Sunny strained to see who had voiced the order. Miriam and Ezekiel, aka Mother Regina and Maximus, had joined the circle of bodies around the clearing. Zach’s parents. She’d never met them, but she’d seen their pictures online, in one of the articles about Vale Luna.

  The king and queen of the cult must be livid about the capture of Zeb and Preacher Bill, otherwise known as Rex and Benign Prater to the Vale Lunatics. Boyson’s midnight raid on Luca’s house, and his subsequent kidnapping, had forced them to alter their plans. Had they also re-evaluated their little foibles and rituals before making a determination to burn him at the stake like he was a warlock or something?

  Sunny gathered her courage, wishing there was actually a pill she could’ve swallowed to bolster her nerve.

  She stepped out of the woods and into the gathering crowd. The sun, still low in the sky, cast long shadows over the clearing. No one seemed to notice the stranger weaving among them dressed in a black denim jacket and blue jeans, though Sunny couldn’t imagine why. Were they drugged out or just plain oblivious? Or perhaps, it was the thrill of the kill that held them enthralled.

  She circled through the bodies, examining the makeshift cross as she went. There were no ladders in evidence, but upon reaching the backside of the structure, she noted it worked on a pulley system, which was operated with a rope. That provided an option if the Fyfes rejected her offer. In fact, it appeared to be the only option, since Luca had no supernatural power to magically separate himself from the pole or the ropes that bound him.

  She worked her way around the clearing until she faced the man she loved.

  As if he had some internal Sunny detector, Luca spotted her before she broke through the circle of bodies and into the clearing. The horrified expression on his face almost undid her, but she squared her shoulders and persevered, never breaking eye contact with him.

  Once in the open space, she placed her open hand over her heart and gently rapped twice against her breast.

  Frantic, he shook his head at her.

  Sunny repeated the hand-over-her-heart motion.

  This time, he seemed to comprehend that she had conveyed her love for him and, though it couldn’t have been said that he relaxed, his demeanor seemed to calm somewhat.

  Zach’s parents each stood to one side of the cross, their backs to her, and watched intently as Boyson constructed the pile of kindling at its base with such ferocity, he had to continually rebuild the mound because the sticks refused to remain in place.

  Sunny approached slowly.

  A hush fell over the observers.

  Luca tracked her every step with fear in his eyes.

  When the only sound was Boyson slamming bits of wood in place, Zach’s parents must have realized something had changed. In unison, their heads jerked up and raked the sky, as if the threat approached from overhead. Next, they each stepped forward and stood beside Boyson, staring up at Luca.

  “You will die this day, heathen,” Mother Regina said.

  “Into Hell you will tumble,” Maximus added.

  They must have expected a roar of approval from their loyal followers, but it never came. Sunny feared Sally Box would give her away, but a quick side glance in that direction informed her that Sally was busy being masturbated by one of the men beside her.

  Sunny dug deep once last time, scrounging up every bit of courage she had. She had no script in mind as she moved closer, just a general idea of what she needed to say. She shouted, “My children’s lives for his.”

  Zach’s parents and Boyson whirled to face her. The two leaders seemed struck dumb, but Boyson snarled and lunged at her.

  “Kill me and you will never lay a hand on my children.”

  “Stop!” Maximus roared.

  Boyson, who seemed not to care that the man who paid him had issued an order, continued toward her.

  “Earl, stop now or die now,” Mother Regina shrieked, pulling a gun from the folds of her voluminous robes. The six-shooter seemed at odds, not only with her ridiculous costume, but the woman herself. There wasn’t a person there who didn’t hear the ominous click of the hammer being pulled back on the revolver. Who did the woman think she was, John Wayne?

  Boyson froze and turned on Zach’s mother.

  Maximus stepped past the ex-cop and into the center of the clearing, about twenty feet away from Sunny. “Speak your mind, slut.”

  Sunny was unsurprised and unfazed by the slur. Zach’s parents had used the same derogatory term and much worse in the legal documents they’d personally prepared to petition the court for custody of Carson and Maisie. “I know you want my children. I’m willing to give them to you if you release my man.”

  Ezekiel Fyfe’s eyes nearly bugged out. “Why the change of heart, slut? We asked nicely for the children in the beginning, but you forced us to take legal action.” His face wrinkled into an expression that made him look as if like he’d eaten a bucket of lemons. “You defeated us at every turn. Why would you give them to us now?”

  “I didn’t know Luca then.”

  He scoffed at her and turned to Boyson. “Light the fire.”

  “If you strike a match to that tinder, I swear you will never, ever get my children, and I will kill you before you even know I’ve struck.”

  Mother Regina slowly swung the gun in Sunny’s direction.

  Sunny’s mouth went dry.

  “Sunny, what are you doing?” Luca shouted. “Get the hell out of here!”

  Zach’s mother uttered a shrill laugh. “Even your man doesn’t want you, slut. You ruined our Zach and you’ve ruined your children. They are of no use to us now.”

  “Liar,” Sunny accused softly. “I’ve read all about Vale Luna. You fear the black moon rising in February twenty-eighteen. No welcome by the goddess Diana, no glorification in Heaven for you if you haven’t made a sacrifice of two children of your own blood. You can’t use Zach and Zeb, because Zach is already dead and Zeb can’t procreate. That leaves only Carson and Maisie. I’m willing to give them to you in exchange for leaving here today with Luca.”

  Please, God, don’t let that come across as supplicating to them as it sounded to me!

  “I say we put her on the pole and burn her, too,” Boyson hissed, spittle flying from his ugly mouth. “You can’t believe a thing this cunt says to you.”

  “Silence!” Zach’s mother screeched. “Do not speak again unless Maximus or I address you first or give you permission to speak!”

  Maximus said, “Why should we believe that you will bring the children to us if we release this son of Satan to you?”

  “I give you my word,” Sunny said, crossing her fingers behind her back. Someone in the crowd snickered. She had the urge to swing around and tell whoever it was to shut the hell up, but sanity pre
vailed and she kept her eyes on the man who had asked the question.

  Maximus looked at his wife. They exchanged some kind of silent crazy-husband/crazy-wife message and he spoke again. “The deal must go further. We want Rex and Benign Pater, too, or you can walk away right now.”

  “I’m not part of the law enforcement community,” Sunny said slowly, trying to interject regret into her tone. “I can’t make that promise without talking to someone in authority.”

  Mother Regina sneered at her. “Go away and get it settled, then come back and we will consider giving you this poor excuse for a man.” She turned a withering look on Luca, who had the audacity to growl at her.

  “Considering is not going to cut it for me…and I’m not going anywhere unless I have my man with me. You have my word that I’ll do my best to see that Rex and Benign Pater” —she had to steel herself from showing revulsion at the names— “are released from jail. In fact,” she said, having a brainstorm, “if you let my man leave with me, he can take care of it himself, since he’s a police officer.”

  “Don’t let her bullshit you into believing this crap,” Boyson raged, moving toward her again.

  A shot rang out and dirt puffed up in a little cloud at his feet.

  “I told you not to speak unless you had permission, Earl, and I also instructed you not to move.” Mother Regina shook her head with disgust. “You just don’t learn, do you?”

  Maximus turned and looked up at Luca. “Is it true, what she says? You can ensure the release of Rex and Benign Pater.”

  Sunny held her breath, hoping Luca would play along.

  “Yes,” he said after several long, agonizing moments of silence. “They were on my property. I can say I don’t want to file a report or press charges.”

  Another few seconds of silence followed. “Earl,” Maximus snapped. “Is this true?”

  Boyson glared at Sunny with hatred so harsh, she couldn’t control the shiver of fear and revulsion that snaked through her body. “It’s true…but I still wouldn’t trust them to stick to their word.”