Blood Ghost (The Hunting Tree Book 2) Page 21

  David was in the back seat with his belt stretched to its limit as he leaned forward to look through the windshield. Her daughter, Susan sat beside her on the edge of the passenger’s seat.

  “Don’t be crazy, Mom,” Susan said.

  “They told me to stay put and said they would send a car over to check on Roland. If the police are still there when we arrive, they’ll arrest us for interfering with the police or something,” Melanie said.

  “There won’t be anyone home,” Davey said. “They’re out in the woods by now.”

  “Well great, then everyone will be murdered and they’ll think it was me,” Melanie said.

  “Mom, that’s not funny,” Susan said.

  “Look,” David said.

  From the highway they could see the convenience store where they’d stopped years before. It was the place where Dr. Mike had been killed by the monster that chased them. Melanie turned her head and watched the store until it passed behind the trees. She looked forward and corrected her steering as the car drifted onto the shoulder.

  “We are just going to pull up and honk the horn. We’re not getting out of the car. If they hear us and come to talk to us then you can warn them, but we’re not going out into the woods. I’m not going to risk our lives for those strangers,” Melanie said—not for the first time. She accelerated.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Cousins

  “ARE WE SURE THIS has to be tonight? Maybe we should take some more time to plan and prepare,” Roland said.

  “She’s ready to move,” Morris said. “That’s what I think. I believe that tonight might be our last chance to grab her, if she hasn’t moved already.”

  “Worst thing that happens is one of us loses a little blood and we don’t catch her,” Merritt said. “A good parasite doesn’t kill the host. We’ll be fine.”

  “Just keep those big feet of yours quiet,” Morris said.

  “You should talk. How’s your limp?” Roland asked.

  They stepped from the trailer into the warm evening. They still had plenty of time to get to their positions in the woods around the Covington house. Roland picked up the orange extension cord and plugged it into the outlet near the porch. The light they’d mounted on the pole near the woods came on.

  “You were right about how bright that light is,” Morris said. “I think if we hadn’t cut those trees down, they would have just about been vaporized by that thing.”

  “Just as long as it shines all the way to the rock,” Roland said.

  “Doesn’t have to be bright at the rock,” Merritt said. “She’ll stay away from it.”

  Their shadows stretched deep into the forest as they stepped in front of the light. They couldn’t walk in the light the whole way. Their chainsaws had left a mess of downed trees they hadn’t had time to clean up. When they got to the first trunk, they veered right and stepped into the shadows.

  “You think them deer will stay put in their corral?” Morris asked.

  “We used to pen them out in the woods all the time. Gives the paddock a break, and it gives the deer a chance to forage for themselves. We never lost a one, except the time that bear blundered into the electric fence,” Merritt said.

  “I don’t think he blundered,” Roland said. “I think he was after a fawn.” Roland paid extra attention to where his feet landed. It wasn’t important to be stealthy on this part of the mission, but he wanted to prove to himself that he was just as light-footed as the other two.

  “My point stands. The fence will hold. Those deer won’t go within five feet of that fence wire, even if it’s off,” Merritt said.

  “Even with Roland penned in there with them?” Morris asked.

  “Especially with me in there,” Roland said. “They like me the best. Actually, you’re the only one they really hate.”

  “When you see her,” Morris said, “don’t bother with any stupid bird calls or anything. Just yell. I wish we had our phones with us.”

  “I know you don’t believe me, but she can sense those things,” Merritt said. “She can hear the electromagnetic waves from cell phones or any electronic device. And she knows that I know that she can sense them. If we had our cell phones with us, it would ruin the whole trap.”

  “I’m done arguing about it,” Morris said. “We left them behind, didn’t we?”

  “None of that’s going to matter if you two don’t shut the hell up,” Roland said.

  “Here,” Merritt said. “I almost forgot.” He reached into his front pocket and pulled out his cigarettes. He tossed the pack to Roland.

  “Lighter?” Roland asked.

  “Matches are stuffed in the pack,” Merritt said. “Don’t inhale or you’ll get hooked.”

  “See you on the other side,” Roland said.

  “We’ll see you in a couple of hours,” Morris said. “Unless she’s already gone. Then I guess we’ll catch up with you at dawn.”

  Roland paused and watched Merritt and Morris make their way into the forest. They really were supremely quiet when they walked through the woods. Even with Morris’s bad foot, he moved like a ghost. It was a good thing, too. Their plan relied on those two getting to their positions undetected. Roland, on the other hand, was the bait. He needed to be visible, but not appear like he was trying to be visible.

  He turned south and then worked his way back to the west until he found the fence where they’d penned the largest group of deer. A couple of younger bucks ran away when Roland approached. Most of the deer recognized him and came over to the edge. They weren’t willing to get too close to the the temporary electric fence strung between the trees, but they expected food—Roland usually fed them. He had a few handfuls of grain in his pocket for later, when he needed them to bunch around. For the moment, he let them wander away disappointed.

  Roland clamped his teeth and grabbed the fence wire. With his shoes insulating him, it didn’t shock him much. He felt only the slightest tingle as the fence fired each second. He pushed the wire down as he stepped carefully over it. The fence was low enough that the deer could easily hop it, and they might if they got scared enough. Roland wondered how many might jump the fence later on tonight.

  One of the deer—an older doe—leaned forward to sniff at Roland’s pack. He let go of the fence fast. If she grounded him with her wet nose, they’d both feel it. She backed away at the sharp movement. The deer milled around for a second and then returned to pushing the leaves around, probably looking for acorns. Roland was surprised—he expected them to be a little more skittish at night out in the woods. They never penned them in the woods at night—too many potential predators.

  Roland found his way to the center of the paddock and sat down. A couple of deer were interested in Merritt’s pack of cigarettes until Roland lit his match. They scattered. It wasn’t a brand that Roland would have ever bothered to smoke, but it was close enough. He took a deep drag and wrinkled his nose at the unfamiliar heat in his sinuses. The nicotine went to his head with the first puff. The smoke was another cover—another lure for the witch. At least it was one that Roland could enjoy.

  When his cigarette was nearly finished, Roland opened up his pack and took out the flannel shirts. They belonged to Morris and Merritt and hopefully carried a lot scent from the two men. Roland used a handful of grain to attract some deer and then tied the shirts around the necks of some of the animals. He shrugged and wondered if it would work. It didn’t really need to convince the witch that all three men were there, but it had to look like an attempt at deception.

  As he watched the shirts disappear into the herd of deer, Roland thought about his uncle, Gus. Anything Roland knew about hunting came from Gus. The old man didn’t spend much time out in the woods, but he always came back with food. His freezer was always full of meat and he would patch together different furs to use as blankets or rugs. Some people in the family, like Morris, called Gus a poacher. In the eyes of the law, it was an accurate label. Roland always thought of Gus living in perfec
t balance with his surroundings. He never hunted for pleasure or trophies. He merely sustained himself with the resources at hand.

  Roland heard something move in the leaves outside the pen. He cupped his hand around the glowing cigarette and peered into the dark. He couldn’t see anything except for the deer. It would be awhile before Roland would leave the pen to roam. To give his hands something to do, he took out the bags of salt and herbs from his pack and stuffed them into his pockets. He would roam empty-handed and without the pack, so he could run. He reminded himself once again where they’d set up the traps. He wouldn’t want to stumble into any of those in the dark.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Marianne

  MARIANNE DROVE FOR NEARLY a mile before pulling off to the side of the road and abandoning her vehicle. She left it near the back entrance of the gravel pit. Back when Crooklin’s had been in business, and back when she’d had a son, Kyle used to ride the concrete truck home. The truck would come here to dump the last of the concrete in the mixer and Kyle would walk the rest of the way home. Then came a car of his own, and Kyle sped everywhere. For the longest time she thought she would lose Kyle to a car accident, like the one that almost claimed Don.

  Marianne paused and clutched her stomach. Her grief over Kyle always came unexpectedly. She let her anger burn it away and she slammed the car door before walking down the gravel road and stepping over the chain. The entrance to the pit would take her deep enough into the woods that she could come up behind those men.

  Before leaving her house, she stopped in the kitchen for two things—to kick her neighbor, Gwen, in the stomach, and to grab the big knife. She tucked the blade along her arm as she walked. She liked the feel of its sharpness along her wrist.

  It wasn’t much of a pit. It looked more like a big area of dirty rocks and sand, and it was mostly flat. Everything looked gray in the moonlight. Up a small hill, the tree line was black. It was a hole, in which the bad guys hid. She would ferret them out and introduce them to her knife.

  As Marianne dropped to her hands and knees to climb the sandy slope, she felt the thing inside her stir. The foreign intelligence wanted to regain control. Marianne held it back. They’d traded possession of her body since Kyle’s room. Marianne had kicked Gwen, the thing inside her had chosen the knife. The thing had decided where to go, Marianne had driven. They shared a common goal and a common body.

  Now Marianne felt the thing bubbling back to the surface. It knew how to stalk in the dark, and it wanted the chance. Marianne’s anger demanded revenge, but after failing to climb the sandy incline, Marianne allowed the other thing to take control.

  The thing guided Marianne’s body up the slope efficiently, and then it took off into the woods. It was quiet and stealthy, so Marianne settled back and watched her body perform tricks she didn’t think it was capable of. Her legs were sure and nimble, and her hands touched down silently to absorb impact as she ran through the darkness.

  Marianne decided to stay back and relinquish control until the last moment, when revenge would finally come.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Wes

  WES SQUIRMED IN THE chair—it was too plush to be comfortable—and then got back to his feet. There wasn’t enough room to pace next to the bed. The doctor slid aside the glass door and wove his fingers together in front of his chest before speaking. Wes tried to remember his name. Was it Chin? Or Chimb? Could his name be Chimb? Wes couldn’t make his eyes focus on the man’s name tag.

  “Mr. Covington, your son’s condition remains serious. That means we’re having difficulty maintaining his vital signs within normal limits.”

  “I know what it means. But why is his condition serious? Just tell me what’s wrong with him,” Wes said.

  “We’re struggling to figure that out,” the doctor said. “For the moment, we’re treating the symptoms. His blood pressure is extremely low, his pulse is slow, we don’t see signs of internal bleeding, but all the blood we’re giving him seems to disappear. We’re taking him upstairs for more diagnostics now.”

  “Can’t you do a CT scan? MRI? Hell, an X-Ray? Why can’t you stabilize his vitals?”

  “We’re doing all those things, I assure you,” the doctor said.

  Wes wiped his eyes and looked at the man from shoes to spectacles. He tried to get a sense of the man. Where was he from? Europe? What was he doing in this hospital in Maine? Indian, Asian, even Middle Eastern he could understand, but where was this guy from, Austria? How could he trust this man with his son’s life?

  Chelsea came back through the doorway. She hugged herself when she saw the empty bed.

  “Where’s Don, Dad?”

  Wes patted the air to hush his daughter.

  “So what? Now what?” Wes asked the doctor.

  “You can return to the waiting room and I’ll find you as soon as we have news to report,” the doctor said.

  “You find her,” Wes said, pointing to his daughter. “Understand? She’s going to be right out there. If you don’t see me, then find her.”

  “Yes, of course,” the doctor said. He turned and left.

  “What’s happening?” Chelsea asked. She held onto her tears until Wes pulled her into an embrace. He put his arm around her shoulders and led her out to the waiting room.

  “I need to go find your mother and bring her here. You’re going to wait and call me every fifteen minutes, do you hear me? Make sure you have your charger for your phone and I’ll give you cash in case you need something to eat. If that doctor or anyone else comes to talk to you, just call me and conference me in.”

  “Isn’t there another way? Can’t someone else pick up Mom?” Chelsea asked.

  “I’m sorry, honey. I know it’s a lot to leave you here on your own, but you’ll be fine.”

  “No, it’s just… What if they need you to make a decision or something.”

  “Then I’ll be on the phone. Don’t worry—we’ll be in constant contact.”

  “Oh, Dad, call the police. They’ll get Mom.”

  “I tried. They said they had a car out that way so they’d check, but there’s not much they can do.”

  # # # #

  Wes slipped behind the wheel and closed the door. A pair of eyes looked at him in the rearview mirror and Wes slapped a hand to his chest. For a fraction of a second, he wondered if his heart would give out. Then he recognized the eyes.

  “Hey, Barney. Lie back down, we’re going on a trip,” Wes said.

  He started the SUV. He checked the clock as he put the vehicle into reverse. He figured at normal speeds the trip would take about ninety minutes. He hoped to be back at the hospital in that amount of time.

  # # # #

  Wes sped down his road just a little above the limit. The road was twisty and unsafe at high speed. Besides, he’d gotten this far in well under an hour. He didn’t need to save any more time. The reports from the hospital were hopeful—Don wasn’t getting worse at least—so Wes controlled his panic and kept his speed reasonable.

  Two miles left.

  His phone rang—the display said the call was from Chelsea.

  “Hello?” he answered.

  “Dad—she’s at home,” Chelsea said.

  “Oh, thank god. You got in touch with her? Did you tell her I’d pick her up?”

  “No, I didn’t talk to her, but I tracked her phone. I just remembered, we turned on tracking on our phones. I can see her phone on the map and it’s at home.”

  “Her phone is home, that doesn’t mean she is,” Wes said.

  “Where would she go without her phone?” Chelsea asked.

  Wes didn’t know how to answer that question to a fifteen year old. They didn’t understand anyone who wasn’t in constant connection.

  “Lots of places,” he said. “How’s Don?”

  “Same. They still have him up with the machines. Should I go up there and wait with him?”

  “Until he’s conscious, don’t bother. Stay where you’re allowed to use your ce
ll.”

  “Okay,” Chelsea said. “Love you.”

  “Love you too, honey. See you soon.”

  He disconnected and put the phone down on the passenger’s seat.

  Wes couldn’t stop thinking about Gwen and why she wouldn’t answer any of the phones. The phone in the house was loud enough to wake the dead, and there was an extension right next to the bed. Either she was incapacitated, or she simply wasn’t at home. The second answer seemed much more likely. Wes braced himself for the idea that he’d find an empty house.

  The image became so likely—so clear in his head—that it became a certainty to Wes. The garage door was up, her car was there, but she was gone. He pictured it perfectly. Where would she go? If she wasn’t at home, maybe she walked to the Umber’s? He slowed as he approached their driveway. In the back seat, Barney stood and began barking at the window.

  Wes kept going. He’d raced back too fast to lose time checking on a hunch now. He needed to get home.

  He turned into his own driveway so fast that Barney slid across the back seat at thumped into door.

  “Sorry, buddy,” Wes said.

  The garage was open—Wes spotted that when he was halfway up the long drive. After another turn, a reflection told him that Gwen’s car was in the garage. So far, his premonitions were proving one-hundred percent correct. Wes didn’t shut off the key to the SUV, he merely threw it in park and jumped out.

  “Gwen?” he yelled.

  The house was dark and quiet. He practically vaulted up the stairs and turned the corner to the bedroom. There was a light on in the bathroom. The bedroom looked empty. He turned on the lights anyway and scanned the room, as if she might be hiding in a corner. Wes knew where she was—she’d walked to the Umber’s. He couldn’t make sense of it, so instead of going back to the car, he threw open every door and looked in every room. He yelled her name as he searched.

  He burst back through the front door, saw his own SUV idling in the driveway, and his heart leapt. There was someone in the passenger’s seat.