Ed withdrew the needle from the medicine bottle. Bending over, he tossed the medicine bottle into the medical bag. He placed the syringe between his gingerly clasped teeth. Ed rummaged in the bag for a moment, and removed another small bottle with clear liquid contents. He also found a gauze package, and removed a piece of gauze. He stood up and poured some of the clear liquid onto the gauze. He recapped the bottle and tossed it back into the bag. Now he used the saturated piece of gauze to rub the liquid onto Kelley’s right arm.
“I’m going to give you a shot to help you regain your strength. It’s going to sting a little,” he said, half thinking she was conscious enough to hear him.
He injected the small dose of epinephrine into her arm. He stood back and to watch her reaction. For a couple of minutes there was no perceptible reaction. Ed noticed her breathing was becoming more rapid. He could see her chest rise and fall, as she seemed to be trying to draw ever deeper breaths. Kelley began to moan. Her head rocked back and forth even though her chin still rested on her chest.
Suddenly, she lifted her head with such swiftness and force that she banged it against the stone wall behind her.
Her eyes were wide open in a strained sort of stare. Kelley’s mouth was half-open and her nostrils were flared open as well.
“Kelley, it’s me Ed Foley.”
She jerked her head to the side to look at him. Kelley was struggling to hold her balance. Blood streaked down from her wrists and ankles because of the chaffing effect of the manacles.
“Unlock me!”
“I can’t.”
“I said, unlock me.”
“You know I can’t.”
“You’re nothing but one of my fucking brother’s toadies.”
“I’m a member of the coven,” he said defensively.
“I can’t wish you would all go to hell, because that’s what you assholes want anyway,” she said with clear anger in her voice.
“You shouldn’t have tried to run away.”
“Fuck you!”
Ed wanted to get this over with. She reminded him of his own daughter that he had treasured and raised with pride, ever since his wife had tried to run away back in 1981. As hard as it was, when called upon, he dismembered her body and disposed of it, after the coven had arranged for her demise with her own hand.
“I’ve brought you something to drink.”
The mere mention of drink pierced her tough armor.
“You, you did?”
“I know it’s not much. Here it is,” he said after removing it from his medicine bag. He held up a bottle of an orange colored sport drink.
He uncapped it and held it to her swollen lips, as she gulped down a couple of swallows.
“Easy now. The first couple of swallows are going to hurt a little. Just go slow, okay? That’s better. Good.”
In a moment the bottle was empty. He put it back in his bag, and zipped the bag closed.
“Ed, please let me out of here. I promise I won’t try and run away. I swear,” she pleaded.
“I’m sorry. I can’t do such a thing. It’s in Samuel’s hands. Maybe I’ll check in on you later.”
“How much longer am I supposed to be held here like this?” she said with her anger beginning to rise again.
“I don’t know. Listen, just don’t move around too much. Save your energy as much as you can,” said Ed as he reached for the light switch.
“But Ed,” said Kelley as the light went out “What about the spiders?”
He didn’t answer her.
***
Ed Townsend sat in his car, which was parked outside the Jolley Roger Motel. It was one of over three dozen hotels, motels and bed and breakfast inns that he would visit today. They were scattered all over the valley. In the winter, during ski season, or during the fall foliage period, they would be booked solid. In the summer, it was different, slower and much, much less subscribed. Still, checking them all would take the better part of the day. He had sent the others Samuel had assigned to him on other duties. He directed them to check out the stores and restaurants in the area. Split up, they all could cover the valley before the day would be over. Ed was confident someone would turn up who had seen Powell and the woman.
He slammed his open palms on the car steering wheel as his temper exploded.
“That little son of a bitch. Damn!”
Ed was struggling to control his anger. His FBI training had taught him to control his emotions. Uncontrolled emotions in a FBI agent were not tolerated. Such displays would assuredly lead one to washing out of the Bureau.
He knew of his own lifelong loyalty to the coven. He recalled his many sacrifices, the countless risks taken, and his single mindedness of purpose in hunting down the Powell family over the years. He never asked for any accolades. He never sought any special treatment. All he expected was a little respect.
“Damn,” he said as his current burst of anger was subsiding. Future eruptions were inevitable, but for now he had regained control.
He got out of his car and walked slowly up to the front door of the motel office. Ed pulled open the aluminum door and stepped into the air conditioned office. Sitting behind the small counter was Connie Gibbey. She was a very large woman who wore muumuus almost year around. She was wearing one today. It was lime green. She wore a matching lime green scrunchy in her hair. She had three chins. She was fanning herself with a small bamboo fan. Each finger on her hands was adorned with a gold colored ring. She also wore too much makeup and too much perfume. Today was no exception. Her attention was focused upon a small color television sitting on the end of the counter.
As the aluminum door hissed closed behind Ed, Connie turned her gaze away from the television just long enough to notice who had entered her office.
The room was cooled by a large window air conditioner. It was set on high. The temperature in the room was probably down to sixty-five degrees.
“Bitching hot, eh Ed?”
“Yeah, bitching,” answered Ed.
Connie Gibbey was not a member of the Church of Everlasting Faith. Indeed she wasn’t a member of any church.
“What you up to these days, Ed?”
“Not much Connie, you know a little of this and a little of that.”
Connie chuckled at something she noticed on the television.
“Jerry’s my man,” she said.
“Say, Connie I’m sort of in a hurry. I’ve picked up a little private investigative job, you know, for an insurance company.”
“Ed Townsend, dick for hire, heh heh heh…” as she launched herself into a hearty laugh at his expense.
She shook with laughter.
Ed was not amused.
“You sure are something, Connie. Listen, I’m looking for a fellow I think is staying somewhere in the area. His name is Powell, that’s Aaron Powell and he is traveling with a young woman, last name of Cotalano.”
“Check the register yourself,” said Connie as she put the register binder on the counter.
He looked at the motel’s register. The last entry was over a week ago, a man who stayed just one night. Probably a salesman just passing through. He also might have been scared off by one of Connie’s amorous moods. She had been known to talk her way into a guest’s room with a bottle of tequila in hand. Once inside, she would work to get the man drunk. Then she would force him onto the bed and have her way with him.
Ed folded the register closed and left it on the counter.
“Thanks, Connie,” said Ed as he turned to leave.
“Say, Ed, what’s your hurry? I could fix up a tequila sunrise. It would take the sting out of this heat wave.”
“No thanks, I’ve got to go.”
She watched the backside of his pants as he stepped through the doorway.
The aluminum door hissed closed behind him.
Ed felt a wash of heat and humidity once he stepped outside. The contrast between the cool air inside the motel office and outside was dramatic. Ed also had felt the p
redatory stare of Connie on his backside.
In his thoughts, he vowed, when Moloch and the coven take over the world, he would personally come back and gut the bitch.
He climbed back into his car and drove it around to the side of the long row of bungalows, which formed this low budget motel. He was looking for any sign of a car being hidden in the back.
He noticed nothing but Connie’s beat up Dodge Caravan.
Ed pulled his car around and headed down the road to the next motel.
***
After putting the old wooden fruit baskets back where she had taken them, Miss Beacon motioned to Aaron and Korie to follow. They carefully walked out of the barn. Miss Beacon reattached the door lock.
With Miss Beacon leading the way, the three of them headed off toward the altar.
They moved slowly, stopping frequently to check for signs of anyone else being in the area.
After a few minutes, they stood on the edge of a large clearing. They were on the upper hillside to the altar. From where they stood they could plainly see the stone altar. All three of them searched the nearby woods for any sign of someone who might be lurking in the darkness, perhaps someone with a gun.
Satisfied that it appeared safe, Miss Beacon turned to Korie and Aaron and said, “We can’t take too long here. We don’t want to be out in the open for too long.”
They both nodded their agreement.
“Okay, let’s make a run for it,” said Miss Beacon as she headed towards the altar in a sort of half jog.
Aaron and Korie ran faster and soon passed her. They arrived at the altar, stopping short by a good two paces.
Aaron looked at its rough surface. Korie knelt down and looked beneath it. In a moment Miss Beacon joined them as she stood to Aaron’s left.
Aaron’s eyes noticed dark brown stains on the altar’s surface. Immediately, his mind attributed these stains to human blood. He held out his hands as if he was pushing against something. Aaron saw that the stains had turned to fresh puddles of blood. These puddles began to grow until they eventually began to drip from the altar onto the ground below.
Korie wasn’t seeing any of what Aaron was seeing, however, her senses were on high alert. The altar almost felt alive to her. The air around it felt cold, like the chill one might feel in a butcher’s meat locker. Korie began to rub her chilled arms.
Miss Beacon watched the two of them out of the corner of her eye. She kept glancing around in search of any possible threat.
“This is where dozens of people have been slaughtered in the name of Moloch. Yes, I am sure it’s a devil with the name of Moloch,” said Aaron.
“That’s the name he uses,” added Miss Beacon.
“Aaron, I don’t feel right. This place scares me. Can we go?” asked Korie.
Aaron looked deeper into the stone surface of the altar. In a large puddle of blood his mind’s eye was still seeing, he began to see the face of Moloch forming in the blood. The face rose up out of the blood puddle. Even Moloch’s horns were plainly visible. The face began to speak to him.
“Aaron, welcome home,” said the small face of Moloch.
“No, never, you bastard,” answered Aaron.
“What is it?” asked Korie.
Without waiting for a response Miss Beacon pulled on Aaron’s arm to take him away from the altar.
Korie joined in and pulled Aaron’s other arm. He struggled against their combined efforts.
After a brief struggle, they managed to pull him several feet away from the altar. This seemed to have a calming effect on him.
Dropping his head, Aaron responded to them.
“Thanks,” he said.
“Let’s go to the cemetery now, and then we can leave,” said Miss Beacon as she tried to hurry them along.
Korie was plainly worried for Aaron. So much was happening so quickly. He was already hurting from the discovery that his late aunt was really his mother, and now all this.
Will he be strong enough? she thought.
They arrived at a wrought iron gate to the cemetery. There were several small, obviously aged headstones sticking out of the ground. Aaron walked over to the first headstone. He knelt down on the grass in front of the tombstone.
The inscription read, “Here lies Jacob Powell, Husband and Father. His Love Of Family Was Only Exceeded By His Love Of God, May He Rest In Peace, Born, June 2, 1801, Died, October 31, 1843.”
“How did all these headstones get placed here?” asked Korie in a whisper.
“In 1910, Colleen Powell sent two hired men to Sutton. They were instructed to come here, and set these headstones and install this fence. They announced their plans in town and even hired a couple local men to help. The coven members, back then, decided to let them carry out their plan. They hoped if a Powell wanted so desperately to honor their ancestors, maybe they might slip up and reveal their whereabouts. When the work was done, the men hired by Colleen Powell headed back into town and made a sizeable deposit in the local bank, leaving instructions it was to be used for the care and upkeep of this place. The night before the men were expected to leave town, the coven members planned a little party for them. Only when they went to grab them, they couldn’t find them. They had up and disappeared. Not a trace,” said Miss Beacon as she smiled.
Aaron had made his way through the cemetery, and was now kneeling before the tombstone of Sarah Powell. Miss Beacon and Korie walked over to Aaron and stood behind him.
The headstone’s inscription read “Sarah Powell, Mother and Wife. God’s Child, Her Life Served His Will. Born, September 11, 1806, Died October 31, 1843.”
A tear trickled down Aaron’s right cheek.
“I’m here now. I understand. I will do my best. I won’t let you down. I love you,” he said as he leaned forward and kissed the cold stone.
Aaron stood up and reached out to Korie, who took him into her arms. They stood there for a moment holding each other tightly.
“Where’s Miss Beacon?” asked Aaron.
Korie pushed Aaron back. She looked to her left, and then to her right. Next, she spun completely around.
“She was right here. She was standing right next to us just a moment ago,” said Korie.
“Well, she’s probably waiting for us near the edge of the clearing. We’d better get going,” said Aaron.
The two left the cemetery holding hands. Aaron closed and latched the gate. They headed back towards the clearing.
Suddenly, Korie put her hand up to Aaron, signaling to him to stop and listen.
There were voices up ahead.
One of the voices was clearly Miss Beacon’s.
“I don’t know what you think you’re doing young man, but you had better put that gun down. Do you hear me?” demanded Miss Beacon in a loud voice.
Korie and Aaron crept closer to the edge of the woods, and could plainly see what was taking place in the middle of the clearing. There was a young man, no more than thirteen years old, pointing a rifle at Miss Beacon. The two were standing approximately twenty feet apart.
“I can’t. Now just shut up, will ya? I know who you are and you’re an interloper. I’ve been told to keep an eye out for your kind.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about. When I speak to your mother and father, I’m sure they will severely punish you for this little episode.”
He laughed.
“You don’t get it, do you? I’m going to kill you. I’m going to become famous like Samuel.”
While the two were at a standoff, Aaron led Korie along the edge of the woods. He wanted to get as close to the backside of the young boy as possible.
“Kill me, oh dear. Why kill me? What have I done?” she pleaded, as she began to cry.
“Just shut up.”
Miss Beacon put her hands to her face and began to sob heavily.
“Damn you,” he said as he cocked the gun. It made an audible click as the hammer was poised to slam into the loaded chamber of his 30-30 caliber rifle.
&
nbsp; Aaron quickly looked around for a weapon of some kind. Korie handed him a piece of hardwood that was lying at her feet. It was about four feet long. The diameter was similar to the thick end of a baseball bat.
Seizing the piece of wood, Aaron broke from cover and sprinted the forty feet through the worn grass towards the backside of the young boy. He raised the piece of wood and swung it with all of his might.
Just an instant before the wood hit the side of his head; the young boy sensed someone or something behind him coming in his direction. In that briefest of moments, he began to turn his head, but in doing so his finger jerked against the gun’s hair trigger and the gun went off.
The piece of wood wielded by Aaron struck the boy’s head with such force that it broke in two. The boy’s head rocked violently to the left from the force of the hit. Blood exploded from the side of his face as his now lifeless body collapsed to the ground. The rifle, which had just discharged fell away.
Korie ran from the woods into the clearing.
Miss Beacon was lying on the ground.
25
Ed Townsend met up with Walter, Ed Foley and Chucky at the Town Common. The others had parked their cars in the shade of a hundred year old maple tree that stood at one end of the park. There was a soft breeze passing through the Common, which took the edge off the high humidity.
This summer heat wave had lasted longer than anyone could remember. Local meteorologists were blaming it on the lingering effects of last winter’s El Nino. A cold front, descending from Canada in the nearby north, was expected to pass through the area later in the day. Severe thunderstorms were predicted and would be welcomed by most, since it would signal the end to this heat wave. Several days of clear, dry and cooler weather was expected to follow.
Ed stepped out of his car and strolled slowly over to the park bench that Ed Foley and Chuck Trainor were lounging on. Walter was standing near the end of the bench, with one foot up on the bench. He was leaning over with his arms folded, and resting on his knee. The guy’s saw Ed Townsend coming. No one made a move to acknowledge his arrival. These guys tolerated Ed Townsend, but none of them considered him a friend.
Evil Agreement Page 25
