by R. D. Brady
“She said he would die choking on his own blood. Years later, the judge did indeed die from internal bleeding, choking on his own blood.”
“She had the sight.”
“Many of the followers did.”
“Then why didn’t they see it coming?”
“I think they did. I think they took steps to make sure that when it came, the book was protected. The Great Mother’s legacy was protected. After all, that was their sacred duty.”
“At the cost of their lives?”
“Would you turn your back on what you believed if your life was threatened?”
Patrick thought about the church and how they were asking him to denounce Laney. He would never do that. He never could—not even if his life were at stake. “But they could have run.”
“Where? The New World was in its infancy. Travel was difficult; the terrain was unknown. If they had run, they faced an uncertain future. If they stayed, they knew what they would face. Which meant they could prepare.”
“Over two hundred were accused. Nineteen were killed—none of them witches.”
Cain nodded. “Yes. But I believe that through all of that, the followers protected the book. The tome made it to the New World. They would have made sure it was protected.”
“Sarah Good. She was the first one accused of witchcraft, and the first one hanged. Do you think they buried it with her?”
“They were brave women. Publicly, no one ever knew their connection to the Great Mother. They died to protect her legacy. You’ll find the tome with one of them. But my money is on Rebecca Nurse. She was the oldest woman killed, and the most likely leader.”
“How old was she?”
“Seventy-one.”
Patrick started. “I had no idea they killed an old woman.”
“Age was irrelevant. It was the accusation that mattered.”
“The accusation,” Patrick murmured, thinking of how all of Laney’s actions had been twisted against her. “It seems time hasn’t changed much.”
Cain nodded, closing his eyes.
Patrick stood. “You get some sleep. I’ll see what I can find on the witch trials and send it to Jake. Perhaps I can give them a good place to start.”
Cain’s voice was tired. “The Nurse farm was preserved. It will be their best bet.”
“Sleep. I’ll take care of it.”
Patrick patted Cain’s leg through the covers before heading out of the room to research a group of women unfairly maligned and killed by a public scared of their alleged abilities.
He prayed the same fate was not awaiting Laney.
CHAPTER 54
It was only a four-man team going to Salem: Henry, Jake, Jen, and Jordan. No one knew they were looking for the book, and Salem was a quiet city of less than 42,000 in Essex County, Massachusetts.
The Nurse farm sat outside the main city of Salem. It had shrunk from its original size of three hundred acres to only twenty-five acres now, but the family cemetery remained. Cain believed the tome had been buried with the alleged leader of the followers, Rebecca Nurse.
Patrick had sent over some notes on the layout, as well as a history of the Nurse family. At the time of the trials, Rebecca Nurse was well regarded in her town. In fact, her conviction was viewed as a pivotal point in the witch trials, making people question their legitimacy. Most scholars believed that her accusers, all members of the Putnam family or their friends, accused her to get part of the Nurses’ large farm. It shared a border with the Putnams’ and legal skirmishes had been going on between the two families for years. In fact, the Putnam family had been behind many of the accusations, starting with Sarah Osbourne.
Jake stared down at the quiet town of Salem as they flew over. In a six-month period, over one hundred men and women were accused of witchcraft here. Nineteen were hanged. The last one to die was Ann Foster, who after being convicted died in prison in December 1692.
“We’re coming up on the Nurse farm,” Jordan said through the headset.
Rebecca Nurse, age seventy-one and mother of eight, was convicted and executed in July of 1692. She had actually been found not guilty at trial, but her accusers had fits in the court after the verdict was read, and the verdict was changed—in part because Rebecca failed to answer a question directed to her by the judge. Of course, Rebecca was also partly deaf, which was why she failed to answer.
She was hanged on Gallows Hill, along with four other women. The bodies were buried in shallow graves at the site. But late at night, Benjamin Nurse made his way to Gallows Hill, gathered his mother’s body, and brought it back to the family farm for burial.
If Patrick and Cain were right, the tome of the Great Mother was buried with her as well. The “witches” were the last of the followers of the Great Mother. Which made Jake wonder what exactly had been behind the Salem witch trials. He knew there had been witch hunts in England prior to the hunts in the New World. But had they all just been a cover? A way to hide the search for the followers? Had the women fled to the New World, hoping the distance would keep them safe?
If that had been their hope, it had been a false one.
“Nurse farm is just ahead,” Jordan said. Jake glanced down. A few lights broke up the darkness, but it was late at night. No one should be around. They should be in and out in less than an hour, depending on how long it took them to dig up the grave.
The idea made him shiver. He didn’t like disturbing the resting place of the poor woman. She’d been through enough. But there was no avoiding it.
The chopper began its descent into the field beyond the Nurse farmhouse.
In and out, one hour.
CHAPTER 55
The exhumation did not go as planned. Rebecca’s grave was easy to find—a giant tombstone had been erected in 1885 to mark the spot. But the ground was hard due to the colder nights, and digging through it had taken some time. Finally, though, they reached the wooden coffin. When Jake pulled on the lid, it disintegrated in his hands.
Jen then carefully searched through the grave. After thirty minutes of tense silence, she looked up. “It’s not here.”
“What? Are you sure?” Jake shone his flashlight over the remains, as if the book was going to magically appear.
“Jake, I’ve searched this whole area. There’s nothing. It’s just Rebecca Nurse in here.”
“Is it possible the book decomposed? Buried in the earth, exposed like that?” Jordan asked.
Henry offered Jen an arm and pulled her out. Jen wiped the dirt from her hands on her pants. “It depends on what it was made out of. But I have to think if it was as old as they say, it wouldn’t be made of something that would be easily destroyed. And the women guarding it would have gone to great lengths to protect it. It should be here.”
“So now what? We’re sure it’s not in the memorial?” Jordan asked, nodding to the tall stone that stood higher than any of the other memorials in the family’s cemetery.
Henry shook his head. “That thing is solid. Besides, it was only erected in 1885, 193 years after Rebecca Nurse’s death.”
“And I already checked it to make sure there weren’t any hidden compartments. There’s nothing. It’s exactly what it appears to be—a solid grave marker,” Jen said.
Jake pulled out his phone and dialed. Patrick’s voice was sleepy when he answered. “Hello?”
“The book’s not in Nurse’s grave,” Jake said.
“What? Hold on.” Jake could hear Patrick moving, then waking Cain. He heard low voices before Patrick’s voice came back on the line. “Cain says the book was with the women in Salem. It should be with Nurse’s grave. She was their leader.”
“Okay. But even if she was the leader, it could have been buried with any of them, right?”
“Yes, that’s possible,” Patrick admitted.
Jake closed his eyes, frustration rolling through him. They didn’t have time to dig up nineteen graves. Dawn was only a few hours away, and once the disturbance at these graves was found,
he was pretty sure their chances of getting to the other graves would be next to impossible. Besides, some of the witches had been buried where they fell, and no one knew where their bodies were.
“Jake, it’s possible that another one of the executed was buried near Nurse’s grave. Look around. See if any of the dates were the same,” Patrick said.
“Spread out,” Jake ordered. “Check dates. See if any of them line up with the witch trials.”
Jake started at the graves nearest him. None of the dates aligned with 1692.
“Over here,” Henry called.
The other three hurried over. Henry’s flashlight illuminated a grave with what looked like angel wings engraved on it. “That tombstone looks newer,” Jen said.
“I know. But look at the date,” Henry said.
“Patrick, we’ve got a George Jacobs here who died in 1692,” Jake said. “The inscription on the bottom of the tomb says, ‘Burn me or hang me, I will stand in the truth of Christ.’”
“Yes, yes!” Patrick exclaimed. “He was seventy and was found guilty after being accused by his granddaughter Margaret.”
“His granddaughter?” Jordan exclaimed. “That’s cold.”
“Accusing someone else was the only way to avoid being killed yourself. Hold on a sec.”
Jake could hear Patrick rustling, no doubt scrounging through a book.
“Ah, here we go. According to this, Jacobs was killed on Gallows Hill and buried on his family’s farm. But the farm was sold to developers in 1992. At that point, his remains were moved to the Nurse farm and given a new tombstone in the style of the old one.”
“Why was it moved here?” Jake asked.
“It doesn’t say. I suppose since there were so few graves from the victims of the trials, it made sense to bury him there.”
“Thanks, Patrick. I’ll let you know if we find anything.” Jake nodded to the grave as he disconnected the call. “Let’s dig him up.”
Jen and Henry broke the ground while Jordan and Jake went back to Rebecca’s grave and started refilling it. They worked in silence for a few minutes before Jordan spoke.
“If his remains were moved, even if the book was buried with him, wouldn’t someone have removed it?”
Jake shook his head, even though he had the same worry. “I don’t know. Let’s hope they just left him be.”
“We’ve got something,” Henry called.
Jake looked at Jordan, who waved him away. “I’ll finish this. Go.”
Jake walked over to the other grave. “What have you got?” He looked down into the hole, which was illuminated by Henry’s and Jen’s flashlights. “Oh, shit.”
They had reburied Jacobs in a new coffin.
“My thoughts exactly.” Jen straddled the grave, looking at the obviously newer coffin. She moved to one side, leaned down and lifted the lid. “That’s better.”
Whoever had re-buried Jacobs had apparently just placed the old coffin right into the new one. Now let’s just hope they didn’t take anything out of it.
Crouching down, Jen gently peeled back the old coffin lid. It was in slightly better shape than Nurse’s had been. Jake held his breath as Jen searched.
“Might have something here,” she said.
Jake and Henry leaned forward.
“It’s here,” Jen called out excitedly. She stood up with an object wrapped in leather in her arms. Still straddling the grave, she carefully pulled the fabric back to reveal an ivory box. Jake could see figures engraved on the box, but in the dim light he couldn’t make them out.
Jen opened the box and shined her flashlight inside—on a book with an old brown cover.
Jake let out a relieved breath. Yes.
Jen closed the lid, and Henry reached down to help Jen out.
Just then, Jordan let out a muffled cry.
Jake turned around. “Jordan? You okay?”
Jordan didn’t answer. Then Jake caught sight of him lying on the ground. “Jordan!” He took a step forward and felt a pinch in his neck. He slapped at his neck, expecting a bug, but his hand instead came away with a small dart. “What the—”
He dropped to his knees, his legs giving out, his vision narrowing. Jen and Henry collapsed behind him.
Six men slipped out of the shadows. They ignored him and Jordan as they shot more darts into Henry and Jen. Jake struggled to move, to yell, but he couldn’t.
One of the men broke away from the others. He walked smoothly toward Jen and Henry. Jake narrowed his eyes as Jen’s flashlight illuminated him. Gerard Thompson. What the hell was he doing here? The last they’d heard, he’d broken ranks with Samyaza.
Gerard pulled the box from Jen’s hands. “Thank you very much.” He patted Jen on the cheek as she glared at him.
One of the men called out, “You want us to finish them?”
Gerard looked around and shook his head. “No need. They’re no threat. Not anymore. Let’s go.”
He turned and faded back into the shadows, his men following him.
And Jake could do nothing but watch him go, knowing that Gerard’s words were correct. They were no threat. Not to anyone.
CHAPTER 56
Jordan was the first to be able to move. Jake managed to turn his head to see Jordan stumbling toward him, but that all the movement he could manage.
Jordan fell to the ground next to Jake. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Jake wiggled his fingers. “Drug’s wearing off. Check the other two.”
As Jordan moved over to Jen and Henry, the feeling returned to Jake’s hands and legs. With a great deal of effort, he managed to get himself to his knees. He thought briefly about giving chase, but he knew it would be useless. Gerard and his men had a head start, it was dark, and he could barely walk. Besides, it had been fifteen minutes, at least. They were no doubt long gone.
He got to his feet, his head spinning. Jordan had helped Jen sit up, and Henry was just pushing himself up. “You guys okay?” Jake asked.
“No. I’m pissed,” Jen said.
“Join the club,” Jake muttered.
“Why didn’t they kill us? Why leave us alive?” Jordan asked.
“Because they didn’t need to kill us,” Jake said. “I’m going to check the chopper.”
He walked as quickly as he could manage away from the group. Anger was crawling inside him, and he didn’t want to unleash it on them. He’d been stupid. He’d thought Samyaza had no idea what they were up to—that she was ignoring them. But she wasn’t. She was just waiting until they did something she was interested in.
The chopper looked unharmed. He managed a slow jog and opened the cockpit door. He stopped short. The console had been destroyed. Wires hung limply, and the stick sat on the pilot’s seat.
Jake gripped the door, anger overcoming him, and slammed it shut. “Goddammit!” He paced, trying to control his anger, but he was having trouble. He was better than this. He should have brought a bigger group. He should have set up a defensive perimeter. He should have remembered whom exactly they were going up against.
“Hey.”
Jake turned around and saw Jen approaching.
“The chopper’s toast,” Jake said.
“Yeah, we figured that when we heard your yell. Henry’s arranging for another chopper, and Jordan’s scoping around to see if he can find their trail.”
“He won’t.”
“I know. But he needs to do something.”
Jake just stared up at the sky. They had failed. They had failed spectacularly. But how had Samyaza known exactly where they were?
Without a word, he turned toward the chopper. He grabbed the giant flashlight from the back and ran it over the outside of the bird, examining each spot the beam touched carefully.
“Jake?” Jen asked.
Jake didn’t say anything as the beam highlighted a small dark object attached beneath the bird. He ripped it off. A tracker.
“Is that what I think it is?” Jen said.
“Yeah. They knew ex
actly where we were going, because they were tracking us.”
“When’s the last time the chopper was swept for bugs?”
“I have them checked every morning, the same time the rest of the estate is checked.”
“But that means…” Jen went silent, horror dawning in her eyes.
“Someone on the estate placed this here. We have a mole.”
CHAPTER 57
BALTIMORE, MARYLAND
The dream held on to Noriko and wouldn’t let her escape.
She ran through the mist. “Where are you? Where are you?” she called, but there was no answer.
She felt the presence of someone else. Her head whipped from side to side, her heart pounding as she tried to find them.
She backed up, her whole body shaking. “Where are you?”
She heard the child’s cry again. She turned and slammed into a body.
Her head jerked up, and her gaze met a pair of cool blue eyes.
“Noriko!”
Noriko sat up with a cry, and Lou fell back. Their room was still dark, although through the window Noriko could see the first rays of dawn breaking along the horizon. She pushed the blankets off of herself and threw her legs over the side of the bed. Bending at the waist, she took several deep breaths.
Lou sat down next to her and rubbed her back. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. It was just a dream.” She paused. “Wasn’t it?”
Noriko shook her head. “I don’t know. I was in the mist. I couldn’t see anything. I think I was looking for the kids, but I couldn’t find them. And then I ran into a man.”
“Did you know him?”
“I don’t think so.” She struggled to remember his face, but it was like a picture out of focus. All she could remember were a pair of blue eyes.
A knock sounded at their bedroom door. Lou turned to the clock. “It’s not even six yet.”
Noriko turned on the light on her bedside table as Lou opened the door.
Yoni stepped in. “Hey. Sorry to wake you guys.”
