Wrong Turn

by Catie Rhodes

  Tanner squeezed my hand and whispered, "It’s going to be okay. No matter what, it’s going to be okay."

  I squeezed back but spoke to Mohawk. "Let Tanner go. Let him walk out of here."

  Mohawk threw his head back and laughed. He turned his back to me and spoke to the people kneeling behind him. "Fetch some nails and wood to make a cross. Large nails."

  The rumble of a few hundred bodies going into motion, all eager to please the Serpent God, killed the quiet.

  "I can’t let Tanner go," Mohawk said. "For one thing, he knows too much about all this. For another, we’ll need a sacrifice to allow Loretta Nell to become Josie."

  "You can’t," I breathed.

  "Oh, I ca-an," Mohawk sang. "I’m boss motherfucker right here and now. I’ll do whatever works."

  He was right. Nobody could stop him. I turned to Tanner. "Run!"

  He shook his head. "I was dead from the time I lost my wife and daughters until I met you. You saved me. I won’t leave you to face this alone."

  I opened my mouth to scream at him, to call him names, to hurt him so he’d leave. But Mohawk motioned at Tanner, and three burly members of his fellowship surrounded us.

  Tanner stood his ground until one got close. He snapped two fast punches into the guy’s nose. The crunch of it breaking set the other two into motion. One of the other guys, who probably outweighed Tanner by a hundred pounds, jumped onto his back.

  "Fucker," I screamed, pounding at his ribs.

  My punches had no effect on the big man, so I bit his arm. The final guy clubbed me in the back. The force of the blow knocked me on the ground. I fell on my injured knee. Pain shot through my entire body, a bolt of lightning shearing away rational thought. I lay there panting, able to do nothing more than watch. One of the men kicked Tanner’s legs out from under him. Tanner fell to the ground with a pained grunt.

  We stared at each other, beaten, both of us facing the end of the road. A tear spilled out of one eye and rolled down my cheek.

  "I love you," I mouthed at Tanner.

  He pressed his lips together, eyes shining as tears filled them. He nodded as one tracked down his face.

  "How sweet," Mohawk crooned.

  "Shut up, you stinky old pussy fart," I shouted, acting a lot braver than I felt.

  They dragged Tanner away. I scrabbled after them, determined to fight some more. Mohawk appeared in my face, more snake than human.

  "Stop it, or I’ll have them pull him limb from limb right now." He backed me onto the bed of the truck and made me sit on its edge, not far from Josie-Loretta Nell. He climbed on the truck's bed to face his favorite daughter. With one long-fingered hand, he caressed the girl’s face. She smiled up at him. He kissed her mouth. "Only a little longer, my beauty. You’ll be restored to your former glory."

  I winced at the idea of Loretta Nell back in any kind of power. She’d been crazy in life, even crazier in death.

  "I know what you’re thinking." Mohawk tapped his temple. "Loretta Nell’s too insane. Things’ll just blow up for her again. But she learned from the first time, didn’t you, pet?"

  Josie-Loretta Nell nodded. Mohawk kissed her cheek. His snake tongue flicked against her skin.

  I turned away, stomach tossing. To hell with them. They were all crazy. I needed to focus on a way to get Tanner out of this. One of us needed to survive this night.

  Something moved next to Josie-Loretta Nell. My father’s ghost came into view. I startled. I’d seen very little of him since the night he’d helped me defeat the Coachman. Daddy put one finger to his lips.

  Shhhhh. His soft whisper filled my head. You don’t have much time, baby, and neither do I, so listen close. You have power over the spirits. Use that to turn the monster’s power against him.

  A commotion rose. Some of Mohawk’s new followers had raided the hardware store and stolen cross ties and a nail gun. Now they nailed the thick beams to a wood base and began constructing a cross on which to crucify Tanner.

  My sweetie’s eyes had grown big. He’d die a horrible death tonight if I didn’t do something to stop it. I glanced back at my daddy, looking for clarification of what he’d told me to do.

  He was fading but gave me a smile before he winked out of existence. I didn’t know what Daddy had meant about using Mohawk’s power against him, but I had my own idea.

  If I pulled Loretta Nell out of Josie and broke her connection to the book, nobody would own it. Then I could possess it, and Mohawk would have to admit I’d won. I began to make plans.

  17

  The construction of the crucifix halted when two of the carpenters got into an argument. One of them shot the other in the eye with the nail gun, which resulted in another crazy trying to get the nail gun away from the first one.

  Mohawk stood over them, a beatific smile on his face, paying no attention at all to me.

  This was my chance. I opened my second sight and studied Josie. Loretta Nell’s ghost wore her like a living garment. But her hold was tenuous. She couldn't quit glancing at me, hating me for being something she wasn't. I could do this.

  Orev let out an encouraging caw from nearby. He knew what I had planned and would help in any way he could.

  I went deep into myself where all the magic hid, dropped all clutter from my mind, and concentrated on my lungs inflating and deflating. Then I focused on my third eye. It opened and streamed bright light on Josie. It showed me exactly where Josie ended and Loretta Nell began. Even better, it showed me the crackle of jealousy over Mohawk’s desire for me that weakened her hold on Josie. My black opal heated, and the smell of my own burning flesh reached my nostrils.

  "Loretta Nell." I spoke in a low voice, hoping not to distract Mohawk from his orgy of carnage.

  She half turned and bared Josie's small teeth in a sneer.

  "How does it feel for every important man in your life to betray you?" I plowed on, not giving her a chance to answer. "I mean, we're not just talking about Freddy Stephens. The Serpent God, the being you gave up your life to follow, picked another woman over you. How do you pick up your dignity after that?"

  A low growl came from her, increasing in volume by the second. The hair on the back of my neck bristled, one animal ready to fight another, but I ignored it and used my third eye to watch Loretta Nell's connection to Josie. The second it was at its weakest, I fashioned my hand into a claw, drawing on Orev’s power as a guider of souls, and reached into Josie.

  Loretta Nell let out a furious howl. She frantically tried to regain her hold on Josie, but it was too late. I grabbed on to her and pulled, the same way I had with Dwight. She had a lot of power because of the book, but I dug in, determined to be brave.

  Loretta Nell whipped around like a snake, writhing to throw me off. I held on for all I was worth and began to drag her out of Josie. She quit trying to resist and mounted her own attack.

  She dug psychic claws into my hand and used them to rip and tear me open. Power leaked out of me in a ghostly wisp, and my spiritual core ached with the damage. Loretta Nell used her hold to pull me deeper into Josie, effectively trapping me.

  Josie snapped into motion. She pulled a shining silver knife out of a hidden pocket and swiped at my arm with it, laying open the flesh. I yowled and tried to pull away, but Loretta Nell had me in her grip. Josie slashed with the knife again. I grabbed at her wrist with my free hand. Our flesh smacked together. Sweat slicked both Josie’s wrist and my hand, and I almost lost my grip on her. But I dug in my fingernails. Josie’s teeth gritted in pain. She kept straining to bring the knife down on me.

  "Stop it." Mohawk rushed over and pulled us apart. He took a deep breath, nostrils flaring. He frowned at me. "What do you think you’re doing?"

  Down on the street, another fight broke out near the crucifix. The nail gun whoosh-hissed as it shot a nail. Someone screamed.

  I glanced away from Mohawk’s angry face. Tanner had gotten the nail gun away from his executioners and held it on them. Every time one of them came forwa
rd, Tanner shot him with a nail. Head shots. A fan of bodies had begun collecting at his feet.

  Mohawk spun away from us. I had only seconds to do whatever I was going to do.

  Daddy said I needed to use Mohawk’s power against him. The power of the book belonged to Mohawk. Loretta Nell harnessed that power right now. Maybe Daddy had meant for me to steal the book’s power from Loretta Nell and use it against Mohawk.

  I had to try. Centering my power again, I grabbed for Loretta Nell’s spirit. She pushed me away easily. Powered by madness, Mohawk's book, and Josie, she far outranked me. My body and spirit shook with exhausted trembles. My muscles ached like I’d been hauling roofing bundles all day. I grabbed again, and Loretta Nell wiggled right out of my grasp.

  I used the last of my power to lunge one final time. Loretta Nell ran but wasn’t fast enough. I got a tenuous hold on her. This time was going to have to count for everything. Loretta Nell struggled against me. My psychic muscles ached. I began to lose my grip.

  Priscilla Herrera’s voice filled my head. Eat Loretta Nell. Consume her. Absorb her power.

  Linus Bramwell's words echoed in my head. You must consume...

  Their meaning became clear. Revulsion swept over me. Even as a spirit, Loretta Nell oozed evil and magic. She stank of it like a hundred-year case of body odor. I didn’t want her inside me.

  Priscilla read my thoughts. Do it or become the Serpent God's bride. You choose.

  Put in those terms, the choice was pretty easy. The spirit thrashed against my hold. I dug deeper, grinding my teeth with the effort.

  The mantle moved inside me, eager and more interested than I’d ever seen. It turned over and over until it beamed out of the cracks in the scar tissue spell. It worked its way up my throat and forced my mouth open. It reached out in a shining arc and dove into Josie. It hooked into Loretta Nell’s spirit and took up the tug of war.

  "Stop that right now." Mohawk's shout rumbled through my whole body. "I'll kill you."

  I ignored him. He wasn't going to kill me, no matter what I did. Then he'd never sire a halfling with me.

  He changed tactics. "I'll hunt down every Gregg and kill them. I'll make you watch while I kill Tanner."

  I had a feeling he'd do those things anyway. Mohawk quit yelling threats and pulled at me. He beat at my back with his fists. He bit me. But he was too late. The mantle sank sharp teeth into Loretta Nell’s spirit and took the first bite.

  Her scream ripped through my head. The force of it nearly scrambled my brain. My whole body filled with the roar and shook with the force of it. Evil squirted into my mouth. It tasted sour and had an after bite like old coffee. But some deeper part of me relished this taste, considered it the taste of victory.

  Eat, Priscilla ordered.

  I gave the mantle teeth, and it took bite after bite of Loretta Nell. She wailed like a dying animal for what felt like an eternity and had to be at least a full minute. My magical core filled with her essence and darkened to an amber color with the taint of her evil.

  I burped. Hot bile raced up the back of my throat. I clapped my hand over my mouth to hold it in. I wouldn’t let her go that easily.

  Loretta Nell’s life flashed through my mind. She’d killed and killed and killed. Hated everything and everybody. Disgusting images of her taking lives and using people flashed behind my eyes. My knees buckled, and I dropped to the bed of the truck, landing in something wet and warm.

  Before I could analyze what I was kneeling in, my chest twinged. I put my hand over the sore spot.

  Spirits don't have a heartbeat, but they have a rhythm all the same. Loretta Nell’s energy pulsed inside me. Each pulse came slower. She was dying for the second time in her conscious existence. Her being shook and writhed in agony.

  The pain, rather than physical, was emotional. Loretta Nell didn’t want to die. She wanted to go on and on, spreading all the evil and misery she could. Wild, blood-soaked images flashed in my mind, trying to make their place, battering at my sanity.

  I pushed back at the horror that had been Loretta Nell Grimes. The mantle came to help. It forced her will into a flat, calm line. Loretta Nell screamed like a dying panther. Her energy pulsed slower and slower, until she just stopped.

  Loretta Nell was dead. What’s more, she had died inside me. Horror spiked in my brain. The idea of joining with Loretta Nell had almost as much appeal as eating a dog. It was wrong, went against my nature. Would what remained of Loretta Nell eat away at what was good about me?

  A cold, calculating part of me woke up. It tamped down the horror and analyzed Loretta Nell's remains. The power she’d gained from her use of Mohawk’s book pulsed an ugly, stained amber. But it was all mine now to control and use as I saw fit.

  I delved into this new aspect of my magic. The contents of the book and the ways to use it now belonged to me. The desire to use it burned deeper than any other urge I’d ever experienced.

  My father’s voice rose from the shouts and calls for blood. Control it. Control yourself. There’s more of you than her.

  He was right. He had to be. I knelt there, warm wetness seeping through my jeans, and took deep breaths until I controlled the urge to rip and tear and make things bleed. Little by little, my head cleared. I opened my eyes and took stock of how badly I was hurt.

  The place where Josie had cut my arm oozed a steady stream of blood. It would need to be closed. My hands, where I’d pretended to have Orev’s claws, were covered with ugly shallow scratches. Nothing huge or life-threatening.

  The warm wetness continued to dampen my jeans. I glanced down and nearly screamed. I was kneeling in bloody clumps of dark tissue. I felt my chest and head, studied my hands and arms again, taking extra care to look at the knife wound. My injuries weren't that bad.

  Then something moved in my peripheral vision, and I saw what was left of Josie. I screamed until I ran out of air.

  Josie Stephens reminded me of a sock turned inside out. She was nothing but gore and blood. Chunks of bone lay scattered about. The metallic smell covered me, invaded my nose, took up every part of my mind.

  The part of me that was now Loretta Nell Grimes screamed in grief for her dead granddaughter and grandson. It filled me, hurting, burning, overflowing. I opened my mouth with the idea of screaming again, but a cold hand clapped over it.

  Priscilla’s voice came. Do not scream again. Get up and show them all who you are.

  I put my hands in the cooling blood, stomach heaving, and pushed myself to a standing position. Wiping my hands on my jeans, I walked to Dwight’s podium. The book sat on it, unbloodied, unharmed. Last I’d seen it, Josie had it. Had it brought itself here?

  Soft whispers brushed against my mind. The book could do anything. Convince anybody of anything I wanted. All I had to do was pick it up, use the key, and open it.

  The key? Last I knew, Dwight had that. My pocket grew hot. I reached in and found the skeleton key there waiting. It had found me, same as the black opal found me if I took it off for too long.

  The book’s familiar whispers started back up. Perverse. Evil. Wrong.

  I stood behind the podium and stared out at the Devil’s Rest crazies, who’d killed each other this night in honor of the Serpent God. Mohawk. I looked around for the son of a bitch. We needed to have words.

  Instead of finding Mohawk, I found Tanner. He’d set the cross made for his execution on fire and was using the burning wood to stave off the crazies surrounding him.

  Something fifty times more intense than anything I’d ever felt for Wade, Dean, Chase, or any other man chased away the evil thoughts. It warmed me, made me smile. I walked to the edge of the truck bed.

  "All of you, step away from Tanner Letts right now." I jerked at the sound of my own voice. It didn’t sound like me. It was deep, commanding, sure of itself. More me than I had ever been.

  The crazies responded to it, though. They scattered and ran to stand on the side of the street, all watching me with fearful eyes.

  "
Come on." I motioned to Tanner.

  He stared at my face for several long seconds. "Is it still you?"

  That was a good question. Was it? I searched inside and found all the old insecurities, all my memories, all my worries. They lay in a pile on one side of my consciousness. On the other side was the shining sheet of the mantle, trapped behind the scar tissue, which was more tattered and ragged now than ever. A few threads of dark amber cut through it, all that was left of Loretta Nell Grimes.

  "It’s me, Tanner. Come up here. Stand with me." I held out my hand to him.

  He paused. "Is that your blood?"

  I dropped my hand, confused. Why did he care? I’d vanquished our enemies. Then I got it. He thought I was an animated corpse. “It’s not mine. It belonged to Josie Stephens.”

  Josie who was now dead because of me. The regret of her loss hit me again, but this time it wasn’t just some residual emotion of Loretta Nell’s. This one was all me and strong enough to feel true grief for a person who tried to kill me. That reminded me I was human and could overcome this and anything else. We all carried a seed of evil. But our universal connection allowed us to think before we acted, to help instead of hurt.

  Tanner walked to the bed of the truck. I held out one hand. He took it and leapt onto the truck with me. I wanted to hug him but hated to smear blood on him. I settled for squeezing his arm and kissing his cheek. It left a smudge.

  Footsteps rang on the pavement. I saw nobody at first. Then the movement of the snake caught my eye. This one was black with a poisonous viper’s head. It continued wriggling toward us, growing until it took on Mohawk’s human form. He stopped a few feet from me and bowed.

  "The Gregorius Witch has finally emerged in your pitiful shell." He showed me his snake fangs. I was too tired to feel repulsed or scared.

  "Yes." I meant to call him Mohawk, but another name came out. His real name, one some ancient part of me knew.

  Mohawk’s crazies rumbled with a moan of religious ecstasy.