The Raven Mocker: Evil Returns (Cades Cove Series #2)

by Aiden James

  “This is nice!” Pleased, despite her weariness from the trip that had been planned that morning and carried out that afternoon, Miriam allowed a genuine smile of appreciation to spread across her face.

  “Well, it might not be Breckenridge, but I believe we’ll be all right,” added David, relieved by his wife’s new demeanor. He worried that her sullenness would ruin the dwindling holiday spirit. There remained hope that whatever recently caused her to grow distant from him could be remedied.

  “Jill just found a snow saucer lying on the back deck—we can go sledding tomorrow!” Christopher excitedly pointed to where Jillian had just stepped out through the back door and onto the deck, moving over to the purple sled leaning against a tarp-covered hot tub. The hot tub looked large enough to hold six adults at a time. “Is this like the cabin you and Mommy stayed in when you were here in October, Daddy?”

  The joyful glow on Christopher’s face, just before he ran upstairs to join Tyler in checking out the loft and twin billiard tables, resembled the exuberance of Christmas morning, two days earlier. The looks of shock and embarrassment upon David and Miriam’s faces were joined by an immediate hurt expression on Ruth’s face. The tip-toed efforts to avoid revealing their fifteenth anniversary trip to Gatlinburg two months earlier had finally failed to suppress the truth. She still smiled, though dim, as she glanced over at David. She stepped over to the backdoor and peered outside.

  “Hey, Auntie… I’m really glad that you’re here with us,” he told her, gently, placing his arm around her waist after he moved next to her.

  For the moment, her attention focused on the deck and Jillian’s investigation of the hot tub. Jillian smiled and waved at them both, to which they responded in kind. David knew he only had a moment to try and repair the damage before Jillian came back inside or Christopher and Tyler returned from the loft.

  “I haven’t been as good to you as I should’ve been for a long time, and I truly regret it,” he continued, his tone hushed but sincere. “I promise to never disappoint you again in any way. You are so important to me, Miriam, and the kids…. From the depth of my heart and soul, I’ll do whatever it takes to make up for what I’ve done wrong in the past, Auntie. You’ll never be alone again—I swear it!”

  She turned to face him, studying his face while her eyes filled with tears. Even though no direct apology had been offered for not telling her that he and Miriam visited Tennessee without notifying her of the trip—and especially one as important as their fifteenth anniversary celebration, he hoped she’d consider how things had changed for the better since then. Heck, the two of them hadn’t been this close in nearly twenty years. He desperately wanted her to trust him—to believe in the promise he just now made to her.

  Ruth nodded, as if intuitively aware of his thoughts. She wiped her eyes and smiled at him, and then readily accepted his embrace when he reached out to hug her. She sobbed quietly in his arms, and he felt the urge to cry as well. But it wasn’t until Miriam joined them, wrapping her arms lovingly around both him and Ruth that he gave in to the urge and let the stress and lingering pain of the past two months flow from him.

  A healing moment, all three cried together. Unfortunately, it served to dampen Tyler and Christopher’s excitement, who upon returning to the main floor had hoped to tell everyone about the four arcade game systems upstairs. They joined Jillian by the fireplace, after she quietly stepped back inside the chalet. Despite their mom’s assurances that everything would be okay, they looked warily at one another, perhaps wondering what unwanted surprise would come next.

  ***

  “Are they all okay now?”

  Tyler posed the question to Jillian as soon as she closed the back door behind her and stepped outside to join him next to the hot tub, where he finished clearing the snow and ice from the tarp’s surface. The last vestige of sunlight now gone, the surrounding hills lay shrouded in darkness. If not for the snow clinging to most of the trees, they wouldn’t have discerned much of anything beyond the deck’s railing, other than the lights from a few neighboring chalets. It reminded him of when he was a cub scout a few years earlier, and David had taken him to a regional jamboree in the Garden of the Gods near Colorado Springs. Real dark there, too…just not as spooky.

  “Yep, everyone’s okay,” Jillian replied. “Auntie Ruth seems happier than when we were home in Colorado, and Mom and Dad are smiling at each other again—finally!”

  She looked relieved, like the recent tense standoff between her parents worried her a great deal.

  “Well, let’s just hope it stays that way,” said Tyler, his smile sly, which drew a giggle from her.

  “Why do you think we really came out here?” she asked, growing serious once her laugh faded.

  The strange way it had echoed toward the woods just now was kind of creepy, and she seemed anxious to go back inside.

  “I take it you don’t believe we came out here because the ski trip in Breckenridge got canceled due to a problem with the lodge, huh?”

  His smile turned impish, though he, too, didn’t wish to linger outside on the deck—at least not right now. He hoped it would be more fun later tonight, when he and David got the hot tub revved up. He wasn’t sure what his dad had meant about ‘possibly waiting until tomorrow’, other than he heard his mom say they planned to visit a friend named Evelyn after dinner.

  “I’ve got a hunch it has to do with what happened to us back in October,” he continued. “I heard Dad and Mom discussing Dad’s friend, John Running Deer. Apparently he’s in jail for some reason, and it sounds like the shit we went through back in October and last week has been happening here too.”

  Jillian wore a horrified look on her face, which drew an immediate sarcastic sigh from her brother.

  “Please don’t act like you’ve never heard anyone in this family say ‘shit’ before!” he chided, mindful to keep his voice low.

  “I know that, Buster!” she retorted. “For your information, I’m not an idiot—I know all the dirty words and how to use them just as good as you can!”

  “Sh-h-h!! Keep your voice down, Jill!” he hissed, looking anxiously back toward the window closest to them. Ruth read a story to Christopher, while David and Miriam were busy getting dinner ready.

  “Why would we come to a place where ‘things’ are happening as bad as what we had happen at home??” she asked worriedly, which told him her look from a moment ago wasn’t entirely in response to his choice of expressive language. “The Gatlinburg Strip sounds like fun, and there’s some skiing here too…. I just hope we have fun and this turns out to be….”

  “A good idea?” he finished for her when she hesitated, which she affirmed with a nod. He moved over to the far corner of the hot tub and brushed the last of the crystallized snow from the tarp, watching it fall into the darkness beneath the deck. “The slopes around here would count as bunny trails back home, but sledding might be fun. At least there are some cool things to do upstairs…like lots of games to play and a pool table and an electronic dart board. We can have our own tournaments!”

  He smiled to sell this, since he sensed she was a lot more nervous about being here than she let on.

  “Maybe you’re right,” she conceded, returning his smile, though weak. “I’m going back inside…and you should come with me.”

  “I’ll be there in a moment,” he assured her, and then turned away to gaze out toward the darkness beyond the deck.

  Tyler listened as Jillian limped back to the back door, wondering if her chronic hip pain was worse here than in Colorado. With a soft grunt she opened the back door and stepped inside the chalet. For a brief moment, the lively jazz CD that David brought with him and Christopher’s laughter poured outside, muted when Jillian closed the door behind her. Without anything else distracting him, he quieted his breathing and focused all of his senses toward the darkened forest around him.

  A slight breeze moved through the treetops, rustling snow-laden evergreen branches along with th
ose from barren oaks and elms alike. But his heightened senses detected a menace, one that caused him and Jillian to cast nervous glances toward the deck’s perimeter earlier. He heard something faint and leaned forward to listen closer...a voice carried by the soft wind caressing his face with unearthly coolness.

  “Why-y-y??... Why have you returned-d-d, oh lover-r-r??... My-y Zac-cha-r-r-ri-ah-h-h-h!!!”

  Familiar with this voice, the memory of it often left him sleepless late at night, since he first heard it back in October. It belonged to the wraith who haunted his house after following his parents back to Colorado from Cades Cove—a location less than fifteen miles from where this chalet sat, tucked away to the east, but in the same Smoky Mountain wilderness.

  Allie Mae.

  Tyler didn’t reply to the voice. Instead, he hurried to the back door, almost tripping on an icy patch on the deck’s floor. By the time he had let himself back inside the sprawling resort cabin, the voice had already repeated itself, sounding like its owner crouched invisibly upon the railing next to the hot tub. This time, the voice’s words sounded more menacing.

  Fearing what he might see if he ventured another glance, he refused to look. Whether or not everyone had a good time here in Gatlinburg, without a doubt this was a mistake—a terrible, misguided decision to come here.

  They weren’t welcome. Allie Mae’s hostile spirit just said so.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Evelyn stood on the back porch of her grandfather’s cabin. Anxious, despite the bright glow from the porch light and the security lamps located in the rear of his property, last night’s visitation remained fresh in her mind. Shawn’s angry barks directed toward the shadowed edge of the adjoining woodland heightened her unease.

  “Come on, boy—come here, now!!” she urged, forcing herself to ignore the unfriendly presence she sensed glowering at her from the impenetrable darkness beyond the security lamps’ reach. The wolf bones clanged noisily against one another on the defiled cedar tree.

  Is it just the wind…or another warning?

  A deep, inhuman moan emanated from the woods closest to her and Shawn. The dog whined with his ears perked high, his aggression replaced by uncertainty.

  “Shawn, get your ass over here!!”

  Evelyn ran up to him and grabbed his collar. She slipped on the snow and her knee landed painfully on the frozen ground, but she managed to remove the leash from his neck. Meanwhile the unseen menace approached, its crunching footsteps in the snow announced its stealth-like intent.

  Shawn nuzzled her, the coolness of his nose brushing across her face. When she stood back up, they both raced for the back door. Without looking behind her, Evelyn opened the door in haste, shoving the dog inside. Only as she slammed the door shut did she see the ink-like shadow, its reach engulfing the area where she’d slipped a moment ago.

  She locked the door and set the deadbolt, stealing a peek through the back door’s curtain. Blackness filled her view, as if a giant void had somehow replaced the porch. The glow from the porch light and the twin security lamps disappeared.

  She backed away from the door and into the living room. Shawn followed her, wrapping himself protectively around her legs as he had last night. But unlike then, no false entreaty had been delivered—the menace didn’t attempt to hide its hostility. The faint smell of blood still hung in the air, camouflaged by Pine-sol and Febreze, and a glowing incense stick resting in its holder on the kitchen counter.

  The day had disappeared quickly after her visit with her grandfather that afternoon. She left him with her chin up and wearing the brightest smile she could muster. He needed it. His despair would deepen soon enough, once he learned the fate of Hanna. She intended never to tell him what had happened last night, when the wicked entity slaughtered her sister in her presence—seemingly for its own amusement. She tormented herself with that realization all day, from the wee hours of the morning when she desperately sought to clean up the blood, tissue, and other fluids that surely came from Hanna’s violated body.

  But as she left the jail, her façade crumbled before the bevy of law enforcement officers crowding the jail’s administrative offices. She could no longer prevent the deluge of tears and became visibly angry with herself. Fearing that no one among them would take her seriously, a pleasant surprise came when the deputy she’d made eye contact with earlier approached her with a box of Kleenex. Deputy Chris Girard.

  Cuter than handsome, with dark brown hair and sky blue eyes, he guided her over to a secluded section in the building’s main lobby. After she calmed down, she presented the proposal that she promised her grandfather, and Deputy Girard agreed to accompany her back to John’s cabin to resume the search for her missing sister. By then they’d shared a little about themselves. Her aspirations of becoming a civil engineer dedicated to serving the Cherokee nation impressed him, and he told her about his own dream of someday joining the CIA.

  Evelyn wondered if his intuitions would be strong enough for him to find success as a CIA agent—especially after he seemed to not notice the distinct blood scent that hung in the air around the living room when they arrived at the cabin. Prepared to explain what had happened the night before, even if it meant possible ridicule from him, he never broached the source for the acrid smell. Perhaps he acted coy, like a truly gifted detective might behave. Her intuitive insight told her it wasn’t so

  Maybe his fascination with her threw him off. His flirtatious comments became more assertive as the afternoon progressed. It did make it easier for her to lead him on a shortened search for Hanna.

  She’s dead, damn it!

  The last thing she needed? A drawn-out tour of a five to ten mile radius of her grandfather’s home with some would-be suitor. A more exhaustive search would come soon enough, with her grandfather, for his peace of mind. Silently, she prayed even more fervent that his release from jail happened first thing tomorrow morning.

  Conserving her energy for that trip, she limited the search with the deputy to a mere half-mile around the property. Chris Girard readily agreed to this—especially after finding the decaying ‘wolf-shrine’ at the edge of John’s property. Evelyn sensed how his heart froze once they stumbled upon it, like his soul understood the evil that had tortured and killed the overmatched canine predator. Afterward, he led the way back to the cabin, eager to trade the grisly sight for some tea and leftover Christmas cookies.

  He left around four-thirty that afternoon, and Evelyn feared he would’ve stayed longer had she not agreed to give him her Knoxville home phone number. A nice guy to go out with sometime, she didn’t desire another serious relationship until after graduate school. She waved goodbye to Chris and watched his cruiser drive away, until she could no longer make out the dormant emergency lights atop his cruiser.

  She watched a steady stream of reality shows on television until sunset, an hour ago. As the last of the day’s light disappeared behind the western horizon, she prepared a small meal for herself, planning to share some of it with Shawn. Having just taken care of his personal business outside, his first angry tirade erupted. The shrillness of his barks caught her attention. She ran back outside to check on him, and from that moment until now, the prospect of a quiet evening had been lost.

  Evelyn recited the prayers taught to her by her grandfather as a little girl. She walked carefully around the living room as she spoke, glancing up at the ceiling, and ready for another gruesome event to suddenly appear above her. Speaking the words in Cherokee instead of English, she added two more logs to the fireplace.

  So far so good. When the flames and warmth from the fire grew to full strength, she lit a bundle of sage and took it with her throughout the cabin, along with an evergreen swig that she used to sweep out the negative energy from yesterday. She took her time doing this, since she already secured the doors and windows, moving methodical through the main floor and upstairs loft.

  When she returned to the living room, Shawn sat facing the back door. His ears perked up, in
tent while listening. He didn’t whine or growl, which she took as a good sign. But then she also listened, more closely.

  Faint and almost undetectable at first, a new rhythmic sound soon surrounded the cabin. Like chirping crickets, and accompanied by an eerie scratching noise that made her skin crawl. This strange concoction rose in volume to where Shawn did whine and forced her to cover her ears.

  Just before the noise became unbearable it ceased. Evelyn’s heart beat loudly within her chest, hearing only the TV’s soft drone and the occasional popping from the hickory logs aglow on the hearth. She stepped over to the coffee table and picked up the television’s remote, using it to shut off the TV.

  “Tali Wo:-ya Alisaladisgv.”

  “Huh? Who said that??”

  She whirled around, not knowing where the genderless voice originated. It surrounded her. After what happened last night, the dream catchers and spirit chasers that covered the walls were of no use against this powerful anisgina. In defiance of her grandfather’s magic, the entity seemed capable of moving in and out of the cabin’s interior undeterred. The only thing it couldn’t do, it seemed, was fully manifest itself inside the cabin. Last night’s attack could’ve been worse, since other than the horribly mortifying experience of being drenched in Hanna’s blood, the spirit remained unable to reveal itself. Something prevented this from happening, and Evelyn could only speculate as to why.

  The invisible source for the voice addressed her again, only this time a soft breeze caressed Evelyn’s left cheek…the spirit’s breath?

  ‘Two Doves Rising’—that’s my Cherokee name…. How in the hell did it figure that out??

  It made her very uneasy. She’d taken extra precautions to cloak her thoughts since shortly after her arrival here for Christmas break, at the first sign of the entity’s escalated anger. Power in a person’s sacred name, she previously worried the spirit might seek her out following the desecration of its tomb. Until recently, the ancient grave lay hidden for centuries beneath sacred soil near John Oliver’s cabin in Cades Cove. What chilled her most? The anisgina used the Cherokee pronunciation of her native name rather than the English translation.