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Authors: Jeffery X Martin

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BOOK: Hunting Witches
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“What do you want?” she whispered.

Rafferty said nothing, but pointed towards the house. He kept eye contact with her, never blinking. She glanced at the back of the house, but saw nothing.

“What about the house?” she asked.

“Nika! Come on around!” Mark was calling her from the front of the house. “Glass is in!”

Rafferty nodded.

Was that it? Had he come around to get her? “Thank you,” she stammered, and she ran for the back door. She almost slipped on the linoleum dashing through the kitchen, and when she hit the carpet of the living room, she practically tumbled head over heels. That would have been silly; she could have flipped over hard and gone through the front window. That would have buggered the whole day.

Mark and Tommy were standing outside, waving at her through the new living room window, like children on an amusement park ride. Plastic tarp littered the front lawn in shreds.

Mark knocked on the glass, like he was trying to get a fish’s attention at an aquarium. “See?” he yelled. “Strong!”

Nika smiled and nodded. “Looks good,” she said distinctly, before walking outside to join her husband.

Admiring a recently finished piece of work never made sense to Nika. You do something, check it once and if it’s good, it’s good. Move on. Men didn’t function that way. The way Mark and Tommy stood in front of the recently installed piece of glass, arms crossed, nodding, as if it were a newborn baby, only proved this fact.

“How’s it look?” Mark asked her.

“Well, it’s certainly clear,” she said. “And much better than the plastic.”

“We went old school and glazed it in,” Tommy said. “I think it’s the best way, personally. It will take about twenty-four hours for it to cure up, but that sucker’s in there, and in there good.”

“Looks good!” Mark exclaimed.

“Looks good,” Tommy echoed. “Yes, sir.”

“Yep,” said Nika. She put her hands into her front pockets and rocked back and forth on her heels. “Sure does look mighty fine.” Mark caught on to what she was doing and shot her a bemused look.

“Well, sir,” Tommy said, “I guess me and Rafferty will be heading out. I’ve got your information, and the girl at the office will bill your insurance company. One less hassle for you folks to take care of.”

“We appreciate it, Tommy,” Mark said, and then there were handshakes all around. As Tommy and Rafferty pulled away, Mark and Nika stood outside waving until the work truck was out of sight.

“Good Lord, Mark,” Nika said. “What did you stick this thing in there with, pure testosterone? Smells like the monkey house out here.”

Mark slipped an arm around her shoulder. “Honey, someday you’ll understand that’s just how men do business.”

She laughed and pulled away from him. “So fucking weird,” she mumbled.

“Let’s get some iced tea, shall we?” Mark said.

“Sounds good! I was thinking that myself.” As they walked into the house, Nika asked, “Say, did you send that Rafferty guy around to the backyard to get me?”

“What?” Mark sounded surprised. “No. Why would I do that? You already said he was creepy.”

“I didn’t think you would,” she said.

“Come on, kid,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Let’s get some tea. I thirst.”

 

***

 

The security people called and set an appointment for the next day. “I’ll be at work,” Mark said, “but the guy said whoever shows up to install the system will be wearing a uniform and have an ID badge to show you before you let him in.”

“Good,” Nika said. “I appreciate that.”

“He should be here around ten in the morning. Is that cool?”

Nika fanned her face with her hand. “Well, lawzy, I suppose I’ll have to break my rigorous routine of pedicures and eating ice cream bon-bons, but I’m fairly sure I can haul my ass out of bed and get dressed by ten.”

“Always a smart-ass remark with you,” Mark sighed.

“You knew what you were getting into before you married me,” Nika said curtly.

“Yes, I did,” he said. “And don’t ever change. Couldn’t stand a serious girl for a wife.”

“Me either,” Nika said.

 

***

 

“That is all so fucked up, dude. Unbelievably fucked up. Are you sure you don’t want to take tomorrow off, too?”

Over the phone, Bo’s voice was so loud Nika could hear it across the room. Mark had to hold it away from his ear so he didn’t go deaf.

“Nah, it’s cool,” Mark said. “The security system guys are coming tomorrow morning.”

“What are you gonna do tonight?”

“Eat dinner. Go to sleep. I mean, the window is fixed. Last night was just an isolated incident. We need to get back to normal.”

“You got a gun?” Bo asked.

“No,” Mark scoffed.

“You want one?”

“A gun? Are you serious?”

Nika shook her head at Mark, mouthing the word “no.”

“Fuck, dude,” Bo said. “I’ll give you a gun. I got plenty of ‘em. Don’t need ‘em all. They ain’t all exactly registered either, if you get my drift.”

“Jesus, Bo. Why do you have unregistered weaponry in your possession?”

“Because this is Tennessee, motherfucker, and sometimes the New South still thinks it’s the Old South. God, guns and guts, my friend. It’s what made this country great.”

Mark shook his head. “Thanks, but no thanks. Nika won’t have that kind of action in the house.”

“Suit yourself, bro,” Bo conceded. “But you watch your ass out there in the Keep. I tried to tell you. Bell Plains is the tracks. Elders Keep is the wrong side of them.”

“Yeah, I hear you,” Mark said. “Look. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“All right, man. Keep it sleazy.” Mark disconnected the call.

“It still cracks me up that you ended up working for Dude Bro Dot Com,” Nika said. “You’re so not like that.”

“It’s kind of refreshing,” Mark said. “There’s lots of grunting and farting in the office and they’ve banned herbal tea. It’s like a locker room built in a cave.”

“Sounds delightful,” Nika said.

“Excuse me while I scratch my balls.”

 

***

 

Dinner was simple: soup and sandwiches. Nika had turned on the classic rock station, and the soothing sounds of Mötley Crüe drifted through the house. They held hands while they ate. Mark caught Nika glancing at the new front window every once in a while, like she was making sure it was still there. He understood that.

She would feel better once the alarm system was installed. He would, too, honestly. He was no longer secure in the thought of leaving Nika by herself during the day. Rationally, he knew they were safe. It would be stupid to come right back. They would wait a while. Let normalcy return. Then, they would come back when least expected. That’s how bullies operated.

And the Pendletons would be ready.

Mark had already decided to take Bo up on his offer. He had even figured out where to hide the gun so Nika wouldn’t find it.

Like it or not, they
would
be ready.

 

***

 

They hadn’t bought any outdoor furniture yet. Winter was coming soon, and that’s when all the good deals came down. So they slipped on some jackets, pulled a couple of the kitchen chairs out into the backyard to watch the sun go down.

“It really is nice here,” Mark said, “regardless of what happened.”

“I just want to forget what happened,” Nika said, rubbing her hands together. “Just forget it and move on.”

“Me too, baby,” he said. “Me too.”

The sky was a violent purple, with some bright orange streaks bleeding through. The chill in the air was becoming more pronounced. Mark pointed towards the standing stones.

“We should build a fire pit in the middle of those,” he said. “That would be awesome.’

Nika slapped his hand. “No! I’m putting flowers there!”

“Oh, come on! We could build it up with river rocks, put a cooking grate over it, it would be great. It would be like roasting weenies at Stonehenge.”

Nika shook her head. “You don’t get control of the yard, Paleface. That’s mine. You do whatever you want with windows and shit, but the yard is mine.”

Mark laughed. “Fine. I concede. Shall we sign a treaty?”

She put her hand on his thigh. “I think I know a way to seal the deal.”

“Does it involve nudity?”

She smiled. “Nudity, adult language and adult situations.”

“I really like all of those things,” Mark said.

“We should go inside,” Nika whispered.

“Twist my arm,” Mark replied.

“Leave the chairs,” Nika said. “I’ll get them in the morning.”

Mark took Nika’s hand and helped out of her chair, like a gentleman. She giggled, and they walked into the house together.

Inside the kitchen, barely concealed by the shadows, were three people, standing stock still, wearing black clothes, ski masks and work gloves. The Pendletons were surprised, and in that moment of hesitation, two of the strangers grabbed them, pulling their arms behind their backs.

The remaining person stepped forward, spread his arms and gazed down at the terrified couple.

“Children,” he said. “Let the cleansing begin.”

It was then that Nika screamed, knowing that it would do no good. The neighborhood was empty. They had no neighbors. There was no protection, no safety. The new window hadn’t mattered. Nothing did. None of their hopes or dreams had made the slightest dent in the universe. Their silent hopes that everything would be okay were hollow, a bad mantra, like frightened pioneers, praying to their gods that the fire won’t die out, that the wolves don’t show up in the middle of the night. Not this time. Not tonight.

But the wolves are there, always, even when they can’t be seen. They exist just outside the light of the campfire, waiting for darkness to descend, so they can feed.

Part Two

History Lessons

 

It was almost three in the morning, and Sheriff Graham Strahan was scratching the palm of his left hand. It shouldn’t have still been itchy. After all, it had been almost a year since former Sheriff Will Brackins had held him at gunpoint and carved strange, arcane symbols into Graham’s flesh with a hunting knife before shooting himself. It was also the night Will Brackins murdered his wife by shooting her while she sat in her favorite chair in the living room.

Time heals all wounds, but it doesn’t do shit for the scars.

It had been a strange and difficult night, and to say it had left Strahan unaffected would be a lie. Take this moment, for example. It was almost three in the morning and Sheriff Graham Strahan was digging at his ravaged hand while sitting in his cruiser outside the former home of the deceased Brackins family. Even though it was no longer officially a crime scene, it was never put on the market. It sat in the middle of the street like an abscess, a brightly dark place, doomed to be known as haunted by generations of Elders Keep children to come.

“You did just fine, Deputy,” Strahan said. “You did what I told you to do at their house, right?”

Moon nodded. “Oh, yes, sir,” he said. “I hung that mirror up in front of whatever it was Sheriff Brackins drew on the wall. Even if the news wants to take pictures through the front window, they’ll never see it. I never saw anything like that before, Sheriff. What do you think it means?”

“Well, Deputy,” Strahan said, “I don’t know. I reckon I’ll have to do some police work and figure it out.”

Strahan had never done that work. There were dozens of crime scene photo Deputy Moon had taken. He had never looked at them. Strahan had also never worked up the balls to break through the faded crime scene tape, break through the front door and go back into that copper and carbide smelling living room and look behind that mirror.

Strahan hated to sleep. In his dreams, he relived that scene with Brackins, trapped in a meeting room at the Highlander Lodge, handcuffed and powerless. There were no answers then. There were few answers now. Even the Book of Shadows Brackins had left, sort of an instruction manual for being the sheriff of a town like Elders Keep, wasn’t much help.

And that was the problem with the Keep; it wasn’t like other places. Good and evil had set up their own little mosh pit in his little town. Surrounded by the mountains and the forest, the Keep was the perfect stage for age-old powers to duke it out. Brackins had grasped this, but it had driven him mad. Graham had only a dim understanding of how the Keep worked, what it was. Strange things happened in the Keep all the time, isolated incidents of brutality and high weirdness. It made it difficult to enforce the law with any absoluteness. Graham found himself the keeper of secrets, frequently having to cover things up in order to preserve the public peace.

The greater good.

Sheriff Graham Strahan fidgeted with his hand and stared out of the car window at the old Brackins place, fogging the windows with hot breath and indecision.

“Well, son,” he said to himself, “do it or don’t.”

Strahan stared at the front door for a few more seconds before shaking his head, starting the car and driving away.

 

***

 

“All I’m saying, Sheriff, is I think I’m ready.”

Graham rubbed his forehead with his right hand. “I don’t know, Deputy Moon. You’ve only been in this department, what, three weeks longer than I have? And I worked in Knox County for years.”

Moon stuck his hands in his pockets. “So you’re saying you don’t think I’m ready.”

“I’m saying you’re jumping the gun.”

Deputy Moon pulled a chair over and sat down in front of Sheriff Strahan’s desk. “Permission to speak frankly?”

The Sheriff shrugged. “Weren’t we?”

The deputy spoke in a low tone, as if he were relaying a wonderful rumor. “Look, Graham. I’ve been working right by your side since the Boyle case. I’ve learned a lot from you. And we don’t even have anyone ranked as a detective on the force.”

“Look, we’re a small force, Kevin. We all do what the play calls for, when the play calls for it. I don’t care if it’s writing tickets or catching a murderer. I don’t have time to think about labels and such. I did remember to name you special deputy.”

“Right! I’m basically your sidekick!”

The sheriff laughed. “All right, Boy Wonder. Settle down. Here’s what’s happened, according to me. You are eager. You want to do a good job so much that it makes you awkward. And I’ve got to tell you, Kevin, as much as you have been right by my side, there have been so many things I have shielded you from. You don’t know. Part of me thinks you’re better off not knowing. Maybe I need you where you are right now.”

“I don’t understand. It just feels like you’re trying to keep me down.”

“Kevin,” Graham said. “I’m trying to keep you alive.”

“I think you’re being overly dramatic, Sheriff,” Kevin said.

“Don’t be offended, man,” Graham said, settling back in his chair. “Your time is coming. But that time is not right now.”

The desk phone buzzed, and Graham punched the intercom button. “Yes, Tamara?”

“There’s a man here to see you, Sheriff.”

Graham shook his head. “Does he have a name?”

“Hold on,” Tamara said. There was a scraping sound as she put her hand over the headset mic, and Graham and Kevin could faintly hear her ask the man what his name was.

“I can’t believe you hired her, Graham,” Kevin Moon said. “I swear I can’t understand your decision making process.”

Graham shrugged. “She passed the exam. She graduated from the Academy. She’s good at what she does, for the most part.”

“She was the suspect in a murder case! You yourself said you think she did it!”

“It was never proven and she was never convicted,” Graham stated. “Her record is clean, and she is now an officer of the law, just like you.”

“I don’t trust her,” Kevin said, pouting like a kid who didn’t get his way.

“You better learn,” Graham said. “She might save your ass one day.”

Tamara came back on the speakerphone. “His name is Joe Nance and he’s from the Historical Society. He says he has some information for you?”

“All right, then,” Graham said. “Send him in.”

Joe Nance was a big guy. His shoulders scraped both sides of the door frame as he entered. Once Graham saw how big the man’s hands were, he was amazed Nance hadn’t crushed the doorknob. Nance was a smiler, and he grinned at Graham and Kevin as he came in. Pleasantries were exchanged, and Nance managed not to crush any delicate finger bones during the shaking of hands.

Graham motioned to the chair Kevin had been sitting in. “Have a seat, Mr. Nance,” Graham said. Graham also sat down in his official Sheriff’s chair, while Kevin stood behind him, arms crossed, a stern look on his face, the strong but silent protector.

“My officer says you have some information for me, Mr. Nance,” Graham said.

“Please,” the visitor said with a dismissive wave. “Call me Josie.”

Graham smiled. “What’s the information concerning, Josie?”

Nance glanced up at Deputy Moon. “Well, I…”

Graham picked up on Nance’s visual cue. “Don’t worry about Special Deputy Moon,” Graham said. “Anything you can say in front of me, you can say in front of him.” Kevin smirked and nodded.

Nance shrugged. “The choice is yours, Man of Law.”

Graham stiffened and stared into Nance’s eyes, without smiling. Nance returned the favor, his face emotionless.

Suddenly, Graham turned in his seat towards Kevin. “Deputy, would you do me a favor?”

“Yes, sir,” the officer said.

Graham reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “Run up to The Meal Worm and get this gentleman and myself two large coffees and a couple pieces of chocolate pie.”

“But you just said…”

“I know, but this is important.”

Deputy Moon was crestfallen. He felt like he was once again being asked to leave the room because the grown-ups were talking. “Can I just…”

“What, Deputy?” Graham was getting frustrated.

Deputy Moon bent down and whispered in the Sheriff’s ear. “Well, you said I was your sidekick, right?”

“Can we have this conversation later, Officer?”

“Yeah, but, how come I don’t get pie?”

“Are you serious?”

“If I’m your sidekick, I should get coffee and pie, too.”

“Good Lord, son. Yes. Please let me treat you to some coffee and pie. Okay? I would enjoy that.”

The officer stood back up. “Of course, Sheriff. That’s three coffees and three slices of chocolate pie. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Graham handed Kevin some cash, and the officer left the room, leaving the sheriff alone with the mysterious stranger.

“You called me ‘Man of Law,’” Graham said. “Only one other person has called me that.”

Nance chuckled. “I thought that might get your attention.”

Graham nodded. “Yeah. Sure did. Surely you aren’t
Na’atal
? It was my understanding all those men were dead.”

“The bloodline lives on through the women,” Nance said. “I know of them, but I am not one. There are only twelve of them left in town. I was pleased to see one of them working for you!”

“Tamara just started,” Graham said. “She’s got the heart for it and she’ll get better with practical experience. But enough about that. Who are you? Really?”

Nance shuffled forward in his chair, which was almost too small for him. He put his hands on his knees and rested his head on his clasped hands. He stared at Graham, his brown eyes almost black. He seemed to be taking in not just Graham’s physical being, but something else, too. Something more ethereal. Finally, the man took a deep breath and began to speak.

“I know the symbol Will Brackins carved into your hand, the one you keep hidden under that glove. I also know about the symbol on the wall in the Brackins house. The one your good deputy hung the mirror in front of. I know about your book, the one handed down through generations of Men of Law. And I know that you can’t sleep. That you’ve been having dreams where someone says the words, ‘Three are coming.’”

Graham slapped his palms down on his desk. “All right, Mr. Nance. How the fuck am I supposed to respond to that? Do I arrest you or worship you?”

“Neither, preferably,” Nance replied.

“So answer my original question. Who are you? Really?”

Nance smiled in a friendly way. “Just a concerned citizen, Sheriff. I have a picture I would like to show you, if you will allow me. I left it outside. It’s kind of large.”

“By all means,” Graham said. “You have my full attention.”

Nance got up and ducked into the hallway for a moment. While he was gone, Graham looked at the walls of his office. He had meant to redecorate right after he had been elected, but had never gotten around to it. The pictures that hung there now made up a strange timeline. They were all photos of previous sheriffs of The Keep at their swearing in ceremonies. All the newly elected men had some kind of bandage on their left hands. Graham looked down at his own gloved left hand. He told people he had been burned. That was a lie, and Joseph Nance knew it. He wondered how many others did, too.

“Can we move a couple things off your desk, Sheriff?” Nance asked. He was carrying a big picture in a black frame. It looked like he had just plucked it off his wall and brought in for show and tell. Graham moved some files and his coffee cup to the edge, and Nance gently placed the picture down on the desk.

“This,” Nance said, “is an aerial view of good old Elders Keep. Have you ever seen it from above?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Graham replied.

There was an edge of excitement in Nance’s voice, like he was finally getting to reveal a secret he had kept too long. “Look at the roads!” he exclaimed. “Look at the treelines! See how we’re hemmed in?”

“Yeah, that’s why we don’t have a tourism department in town. We’re just a stop on the way to other places that aren’t so bound up.”

“You’re missing the grand design, Sheriff. Step back. Look at the big picture.”

“No puzzles this morning, please,” Graham said. “Just tell me what I’m seeing, Mr. Nance.”

Nance put his finger on the glass. “Here’s where Kemper Highway rolls in on the south side of town. We’ve got mountains over here on the east and the west, once you get past The Store. Banyon’s Creek runs down to the north. Then, we’ve got Wednesday Ridge right here! And that kind of cuts of through the northwest corner of town. Do you see?”

Graham did not see. He shrugged his shoulders in silence.

“I guess it looks like a star?” Graham asked.

Nance clapped his hands. “Not just a star, Sheriff. A pentagram.”

“Mr. Nance, let’s stop pretending I know anything about what you’re trying to show me, okay? Layman’s terms.”

“Nature itself set Elders Keep apart, Sheriff. From ancient times, the five-pointed star has been a symbol of protection. If you draw a circle around a pentagram, everything within that circle is safe on a spiritual level. That’s why witches and others who follow some of the older spiritual pathways revere it so.”

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