Dark Rite

Chapter 6

Grant sat hunched over a steaming cup of coffee, scowling. It wasn't the coffee that had him in a foul mood. In fact, that was the only good thing about the day so far. But he was tired, annoyed and, if he was honest, more than a little scared. He'd endured a terrible night's sleep, his dreams plagued with screaming girls tied to tables, and strange rednecks with faces that kept morphing into twisted, demonic visages as he tried to escape from them along darkened corridors, his legs like lead. Several times during the night he had woken himself crying out, the sensation of pursuit still fresh in his adrenalized, sweating body.

Eventually he dragged himself from bed and brewed coffee, resigned to the fact that he would get no more rest anyway. He had an appointment in Kingsville at ten a.m. to sign off on a bunch of legal paperwork and figured he might as well get an early start. It wasn't like there would be much in the way of traffic, but he had to somehow justify his rising close to dawn.

Grant finished his coffee and chewed his way through toast that tasted like cardboard and sawdust on his tongue, then gathered the papers he needed. Two hours on his cell phone the afternoon before and several more hours through the evening had finally revealed that he needed to go to his father's attorney in Kingsville and then find a notary and the county courthouse, to file the numerous, frustrating forms. At least once this was done, he would have nothing left to worry about but his father's personal possessions and cabin. A part of him was tempted once again to just give up on it, keep driving once he was finished in Kingsville and have a real estate agent deal with selling the cabin and everything in it. Did he really need the hassle of all this garbage and these hillbillies? But with Suzanne gone, what did he have to go back to? An apartment as empty and pointless as this cabin.

His eyes roved the spare furnishings and something like nostalgia drifted over him. He had not known his father well, but he felt there was a certain closure to be found here. He owed it to himself and his dad to make the right decisions with all this. And besides, he might turn up something valuable or personal that he could treasure. Some connection to the man. The train of thought led Grant back to the strange book in the smokehouse and he shook his head, clearing his thoughts quickly before he ruminated on that too much. It made him intensely uncomfortable to even picture it in his mind's eye. He had seen that picture move, heard the girl's scream and the chant and the drum.

“The hell with this,” he muttered, forcing the thoughts from his mind. He grabbed his keys and left as the soft pink of dawn began to give way to the blue of a clear, bright day.

As he climbed into his car the sensation of being watched washed over him, prickled up his spine and gently gripped the back of neck. Why did this keep happening? Half in the car door, he paused, looked around. Trees shifted in a soft breeze, birds sang. No person anywhere to be seen. He walked away from the car a few paces and looked deeper into the forest, down the driveway, up towards the smokehouse.

“Anyone there?” he called out. “I'm about to leave for the day, so if you need to talk to me, now's the time!”

He felt like a fool calling out to the woods. His heart hammered ridiculously fast, but no one answered. He didn't know what he would have done had anyone actually replied. Probably jump right out of his shoes. With an annoyed grunt, he climbed into the car and turned the key. The sound of another engine barked and rattled over his own the moment his fired. With a curse, he killed his again. The distant sound of a diesel motor drifted through the air. He opened the car door and hopped up on the hood, peering down where the drive wound through the forest. The diesel sound was almost gone, receding down the dirt road leading away from the cabin. He caught a glimpse of a truck snaking through the twisting mountain road before it vanished down the hollow.

“What the fuck?” He slipped back into the car, restarted it and roared around in a wide U, spraying gravel up against the front of the cabin. With no regard for his shocks, he hammered down the rutted drive to where it met the paved road and skidded to a halt at the intersection. Nothing. No vehicle in either direction until the road curved away through the trees.

Maybe he had been hearing things. Hardly any sleep, his nerves in tatters, perhaps it had only been his own engine echoing through the forest. Was that even possible? But he'd seen the truck! Regardless, there was nothing to see now. He turned towards Wallen's Gap and was soon cruising through the main street.

Even this early there were people moving about, a smattering of cars gliding slowly by. He caught sight of a young girl, maybe sixteen, weirdly out of place in old-fashioned clothes, standing on a street corner as he passed. Her bonnet half-shaded her face, but her expression held such a deep and terrible sadness that Grant hit the brakes, twisting in his seat to look back. The girl was nowhere to be seen. He stared at the empty pavement where she had stood. She had definitely been standing right there. He ground his teeth. This fucking town.

Impotently angry at just about everything, he revved the engine and drove on. A block further, a flash of jeans and a white shirt caught his eye as he passed the park. Was that Cassie or was he seeing things again? Rather than risk a wreck, he hung a right, went around the block, and cruised by the park again. It was her. She sat alone on a swing, gently swaying back and forth, head down. Her hair obscured her face, but she seemed sullen, sad.

Grant pulled up to the curb, wound down the window. “Hey, Cassie!”

She looked up with a start, dragged one forearm across her face. “Oh, hi.” Her voice was tight.

Grant frowned. Had she been crying? “Everything okay?”

She nodded, forced a smile that was totally unconvincing. “Sure, everything's good.” She glanced left and right, almost as if she was afraid to be seen talking to him.

“You're up bright and early,” he said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

Her shoulders hitched and dropped.

“You usually up so early?” He felt like a fool the moment the words left his mouth. What kind of lame ass thing was that to ask someone, especially a cute girl? As her face creased in a frown he hurried on. “I'm not. I hate early mornings as a rule. But I have to go to Kingsville today. Got to deal with some stuff about my dad.”

Cassie's face slipped through a few quick changes of expression, surprise to thoughtfulness to something like hope. She nodded again. “Long drive,” she said.

“Not as the crow flies but, with these winding roads, I figure a couple of hours, right?” There was suddenly something unsaid hanging in the air between them.

“About that,” Cassie said. “You know, I…” She thought better of it, stopped abruptly.

Grant's heart did a two-step with nerves and he took a leap. “You need anything in Kingsville? I'd be happy to pick something up for you.” Her eyebrows lifted, lips parted like she wanted to say something. “Or I could, you know, I could give you ride up there if you need it.” Was he being a complete douche? Who offered such a long ride to someone they hardly knew?

Cassie looked around again, furtively. She chewed at her lower lip for a moment, clearly trying to come to some decision. “Actually, yeah, that would be really good. I do need to do something in Kingsville and I hate making that drive on my own.”

Grant grinned, pleased with himself. Maybe there was something worthwhile in Wallen's Gap after all. He couldn't believe this cute girl had just agreed to a two hour each way trip with him. Suzanne’s angry face flitted through his mind and he pushed the thought away. She had left him, so he had no time for guilt. He gestured with his head towards the passenger side. “Great. Hop in.”

She hurried over and slipped into the seat beside him. “Thanks, this is nice of you,” she said with a tight smile. “I don't want to be any trouble.”

“No problem. Do we need to swing by your place to pick anything up?”

“No, let's just get going, okay?”

Grant's elation waned at her tense nervousness. She seemed strangely agitated. “Sure thing,” he said, trying to keep his voice light and casual.

He pulled away from the curb, wondering what else he could say to ease her tension. As he made the turn up towards the highway he glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the tall, gangly boyfriend, Carl, standing outside the still closed hardware store, staring after them. Carl did not look happy at all.