Victory of Coins (The Judas Chronicles, #7) (4 page)

I thought about what our life might be like once the baby arrived, while pushing aside my own claustrophobic experiences that come whenever my current body is killed. It has happened a number of times, down through the centuries.... Leaving the body—at least in my case—isn’t like some astral projection experience that apparently most people experience at death, or in a near-death experience. For me, my essence gets sucked into my solar plexus before being propelled through my body and out via my head. Once outside the body, my essence travels through a very thin transparent tube. Not quite as much fun as it might sound—and yes, there’s intended sarcasm there.

“Okay, I’m satisfied,” Jeremy announced, after we had visited the exhibit for almost thirty minutes. “Let’s move on to Shiloh!”

All in all, the tour was an enjoyable experience. Jeremy spent another fifteen minutes taking photographs at the adjacent military park until finally, just after ten o’clock, we headed north to Shiloh.

The scenic landscape of the drive brought to mind how much the south had changed in the past one hundred and fifty years. Land and trees that had been ravaged by bullets, grapeshot, and cannon balls were now fully healed. Granted, I had only seen pictures of the damage in this area, as opposed to the places I frequented back then. I recalled thinking long ago that much of the southern wilderness would take centuries to be restored to its original grandeur. And yet, as we headed north, the surrounding forests were full and vibrant again, taking half as long as I expected to heal.

We stopped to pick up something for lunch about an hour north of Jackson, Mississippi. Soon after that, all of us were hit by a peculiar feeling. An invisible voyeur seemed to be watching.

“Do you feel that?” I asked Beatrice.

“What is it, you think?” she sniffed at the air, grimacing as if it were suddenly acrid. “It’s him... isn’t it?”

“Rod... can you sense anything yet?”

He responded to me with a nod, his expression more grim than my wife’s.

“It started about seven minutes ago, and it’s the first time in months that I’ve picked up Kaslow’s presence,” he advised. “Or, it could be the demons who serve him. They both have a distinctly shitty smell to them.”

“Maybe we should go to Corinth first, to drop our bags off,” my wife suggested. Meanwhile the strange, foreboding impression grew in strength, and as it did, so did Beatrice’s uneasiness. Amy’s too, as if the predatory presence was focused mostly upon them. “I’m thinking more and more that would be best.”

“We could do that, but it will cut about an hour from our time in the park today, since our GPS routed us to Shiloh first and then it takes us back to Corinth after we exit the park,” said Roderick.

“We should consider doing it anyway, Rod,” I said, stepping in for Beatrice when she shot me a pleading look. “Let’s see how everyone feels once we get within ten to twenty miles of Corinth. If Beatrice and Amy feel like continuing on today, then we’ll do it. If not, then we’ll either go as a group tomorrow, or you and I can take care of the coin search ourselves.”

“I’d like to come with you guys tomorrow, if that’s okay,” said Jeremy, casting a wary glance at Amy, who seemed ready to forego her nap in favor of seeing this latest discussion’s resolution.

“That’s fine with me,” said Roderick.

It was fine by me as well... but I caught a disdainful look from Amy to her brother, and realized she wasn’t pleased by the apparent lack of solidarity between them.

“Whenever you decide to go, I’m coming along,” she said, sitting up and leaning her elbows on the back of Beatrice’s seat. “If Viktor Kaslow shows up, I’m not about to let him separate me from my brother ever again!”

“So, I guess it will just be me being barricaded in the General Johnson House, huh?” said Beatrice, feigning disappointment. Surely it was only a slight exaggeration from what she truly felt in regard to the prospects of us leaving her alone to visit Shiloh while all of us were under the invisible watch of Kaslow. Of course, she should realize by now that I would never leave her anywhere alone—especially not after losing Alistair. I wasn’t about to lose her, too. Even if the chances of something like that happening were remote at best, I would gladly err on the side of protecting her from all harm. “I guess I’ll sip on mint juleps until you come back to rescue me from boredom.”

“I’ll stay with you,” I said, drawing a sharp look from Roderick through the rearview mirror. She reached over and took my hand, squeezing it tightly. “So, either you’ll have to come with us, or Rod will have to find the gift from Kaslow on his own.”

Granted, the chances that I’d end up foregoing an opportunity to find out if the prize was a coin or not were very slim. But, if it was a choice of doing that or making sure Beatrice was at peace, then I would take care of the love of my life. And, it would likely end up being the only other true immortal in our group—Roderick—who would have to explore the military park for Kaslow’s bait. My instincts were telling me that we would be safest to check out the park that afternoon, instead of waiting until tomorrow. So, I held out hope that Beatrice would feel comfortable enough to take care of the visit to Shiloh now instead of waiting. It felt wrong in my heart to prolong Kaslow’s moment of mercy, as well as leave my wife to anyone else’s protection.

“You’re a good man, William,” said Roderick, who smiled in the mirror after observing Beatrice and me.

“Yes he is,” she agreed, reaching up to kiss my cheek. “I think I’ll keep him.”

Her mirthful jest proved infectious, and we all shared a badly needed laugh inside the Cadillac. To my surprise, the oppressive feeling suddenly dissipated, as if wherever it came from was banished by the positive vibes, leaving a peaceful euphoria in its departure. I could see the relief in everyone’s faces. Maybe it wasn’t Kaslow after all. Perhaps it was someone or something else....

“It was him,” Roderick assured me, drawing wary looks from the rest. “I can finally feel his meddling fingers in our affairs again... but he’s gone for now. Maybe Kaslow has more pressing things to attend to and has decided to leave us the hell alone for another long spell. I’d be most grateful if that’s the case.” He laughed quietly.

“So, I guess we can all go to Shiloh worry free, eh?” said Jeremy.

“Looks like,” I confirmed, nodding to Beatrice, whose reservations about visiting Shiloh appeared to be easing. “Just depends on whether my lovely wife wants to join us today or tomorrow instead, when a Saturday crowd will be on hand to visit the park.”

“How about ‘maybe’?” she said, smiling playfully.

“Works for me,” said Jeremy, returning her smile with a wink.

Amy echoed Jeremy, and Roderick offered an approving smile. From that moment until we stopped for lunch near Canton, things were much happier in our SUV. Easier to talk about Kaslow and the task ahead without worrying he might be eavesdropping on us. But we didn’t say much about either one, instead talking about our subsequent plans in Corinth. Amy and Beatrice hoped to hit the local antique stores, after overhearing a pair of elderly ladies during breakfast talk about the ‘better buys’ for genuine Civil War era pieces in Corinth as compared to Vicksburg.

As I had hoped, when we approached Corinth on the highway, Beatrice was much more amenable to visit Shiloh first that afternoon—especially after she and Amy had already filled up the weekend’s schedule with items that had little to do with the famed battlefield and national cemetery. Roderick astutely noted the only Shiloh attraction that could compete with the bevy of antique stores in the area would’ve been the reenactments that took place the past April. However, I wasn’t convinced that watching scores of grown men acting out the various skirmishes that took place April 6
^th
and 7
^th
, 1862 would override Beatrice’s desire to purchase an authentic pie safe for Roderick’s plantation house—which once had several until he decided to auction off most of the original furniture when he modernized the house forty years ago. Amy and Beatrice both had chastised him several times for that crime.

“You can feel a presence here,” Amy remarked, once we entered the park and drove toward the Visitor Center. “Not like what we felt earlier. This is different. It feels... it feels awe inspiring.”

I had to agree. It supported what Roderick had stated to me long ago about Shiloh, after I had visited a few Civil War battle sites in Georgia and Virginia. At the time he told me that only Gettysburg and Shiloh carried a unique feeling like no other battlegrounds in the United States. One could definitely feel it here, and despite the carnage that took place in this gorgeous part of southern Tennessee, the rolling landscape felt like other places in the world carrying ancient sanctity. Roderick mentioned that ancient Native American burial mounds were located in the nearby bluffs above the Tennessee River.

“Perhaps that has something to do with it,” he said. “You’ll really feel it once we get out and walk around here.”

And I did. Especially in the cemetery, which sadly was dedicated to only one side: the Union. The confederate dead were for the most part buried in trenches that have long been covered up. When we got back in the Escalade to follow the driving trails throughout the park, Roderick and Beatrice didn’t have to point out where the Confederate dead were buried. I could feel it... a palpable emotion of sorrow and defeat that encompassed areas stretching well beyond monuments and plaques erected to talk about the southern dead.

To be fair, it wasn’t all rosy for the Union either, as casualties took nearly half of the combined armies present in Shiloh by the evening of April 7
^th
, 1862.

As touched upon, the park is loaded with monuments dedicated to the various regiments and their respective States, but we only found one resembling the details from Kaslow’s letter.

It was the biggest monument for the Iowa fallen, and in my opinion the most splendid of all the memorials scattered throughout the park. We passed it once, but came back to it when it seemed to be the best fit for Kaslow’s description of a ‘woman who might as well be a bronze angel.’

“I don’t know, Rod... I don’t perceive the glow from a coin, and my left arm has been free of any discomfort,” I said, when he stopped the vehicle in front of it.

“Maybe I was wrong... maybe he has something else for us to find,” he suggested. “Let’s go take a look.”

“Let’s keep this to only you and me, just in case Kaslow has buried a mine near the statue,” I said, thinking back to recent encounters with this demon lord who was once merely a wicked man. “Amy, I’m going to insist you stay here and keep an eye on Beatrice.... Jeremy, I’d like you to stay here, too. If something happens to us, get the hell out of here and don’t stop driving until you are at least twenty miles from here. Are you with me on that?”

He eyed me suspiciously, but agreed to stay with Amy and Beatrice.

“You’re the good man, here,” I told him, patting his shoulder on the way out of the SUV. “If all goes well, we should be back in just a few minutes.”

Roderick and I approached the left side of the monument, carefully scanning our surroundings. Other than a few bicycling tourists passing by, we had the immediate area to ourselves. But nothing had been left for us.

“Huh... I guess this isn’t it,” said Roderick, after we thoroughly checked the bronze woman attired in the prevalent style of the Civil War era. There was nothing hidden where the granite steps met the sculpture. Nothing at all, despite thrusting our hands repeatedly in the crevices near the statue’s feet. “I guess it’s located somewhere deeper in the park.”

“I guess so,” I echoed in disappointment. “Well, let’s see if we can find it... the park closes in thirty minutes.” I pointed to my cell phone’s clock, which read 4:28 p.m. “You don’t suppose he’s screwing with us, do you?”

“With Viktor Kaslow, anything is possible,” said Roderick, as we headed back to the vehicle. “Deviousness is always a delicacy on the menu for him, as you know. He might be laughing this very moment at our foolishness, since we have little choice but to follow any wild goose chase he decides to throw our way.... But let’s make sure that’s the case before we assume anything.”

Rather than get into a full-on discussion about a possible cruel joke at our expense, I announced to Beatrice and the others that this monument wasn’t the right one, and that we could tell it was a dud once we got a closer look at it. Not a complete lie, and hopefully not something that could come back to haunt me later.

“We’re going to take one of the tour routes we passed over, on the other side of the Visitor Center, and if it doesn’t lead us to pay dirt, then we’ll give up on the search for now,” I said, engendering disappointed looks from everyone, including Roderick. Surely he was opposed to giving up completely beyond this afternoon.

As I feared, another route that looked somewhat promising from a distance proved to be a poor choice once we drove past the first few markers. We ended up taking three more scenic detours before heading back toward the park’s exit, with less than five minutes to spare. Ironically, or at least to me it was ironic, we ended up driving past the glorious Iowa memorial once more.

“Holy shit!” I blurted out as we came up on the side featuring the woman writing the names of the fallen on the monument’s obelisk. “Stop the car, Rod!”

“I see it,” he said, swerving to pull over far enough for the line of cars exiting the park to get around us. A park ranger would surely be on the way soon. “Let’s go get your coin!”

Beatrice frowned. “I thought you said this was the wrong monument?” She asked, accusingly.

“I’m sorry, Babe—let me explain what happened when we get back....”

A sudden chill crept into the Escalade, seizing my entire being. I could tell from everyone else’s expression they all felt it, too.

“Quick, William—let’s go
now!”
Roderick urged, when I hesitated. “Let’s go get your coin and get the hell out of here!”

I followed him out and we ran back to the statue, all the while our gazes were fixed upon the very spot we had probed fruitlessly earlier, near the base of the bronze woman’s gown. But this time, the crevice between the gown and granite step wasn’t empty. The second to last of my cursed blood coins’ sapphire glow radiated toward us, and the pain that had seized my left arm a moment ago in the Escalade now intensified.