Dark Rite

Chapter 19

Amos looked him up and down when he emerged into the cool light of dawn. “The hell happened to you?”

Grant smiled. “I've been prepared. I'm glad you knew Ma Withers. I feel like we've got a fighting chance.”

The old woman followed him onto the front porch. “Things happen for a reason at their intended time, son. You happened for a reason, Cassie did too. And the complacency of the fools in town as well. Question is, whether you can make the best of it or the worst. Ain't no justice to who prevails in things like this, evil wins out as often as good.”

Grant frowned, scratched nervously at his hair where the witch's concoction dried. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“All I done is get you ready as best I can. I don't even know if any of it is gonna help. I ain't the warlock my grandaddy was.”

Grant and Amos both turned sharply to stare at the old woman. “Grandaddy?” they said in unison.

Ma Withers smiled and sat down.

“But that would make you…” Grant started.

“Old as sin and twice as deadly,” Ma said with a wicked grin. “That's right. But enough of that. Like I said, I can't guarantee nothing I did is gonna help you, but we can hope it does. If we're all lucky.”

“So what now?” Grant asked. “Where now?”

“They’s place called Natural Bridge Caverns,” Ma said. “It's part of a big old tourist attraction.”

“Used to take Elijah there when he was a young 'un.” A wistful smile crept across Amos's face, then crumpled in a wave of sadness.

Ma Withers nodded. “Most folk around here do. But there's more to the caves than most folk know about and the dead girls before was always found on the other side of that mountain. They's caves back there that's not on the tourist maps. They's tight, twisting passages a man can barely squeeze through, and dropoffs down into nothing. Too dangerous to let people wander in there. It's fenced off, but I got me a hunch them fools use those caverns for their rituals.” She grimaced as she said the last word. “Josiah Brunswick wrote a little bit about it. I can't say I know it for sure, but I'll bet my pinky toe and one of my own fingers that's where they'll be taking Cassie.”

“We have nothing else to go on,” Grant said. “I suppose we have to try.”

Ma Withers went inside to find some paper and a pen and sketched a hasty map of the surrounding country, though Amos insisted he knew the way. It wouldn't be easy to get to the caves she had talked about, as it was several miles hike across some rough country. The only other way in was a drive into town, then back up the valley along a dirt road, but Grant was not prepared to risk a run-in with the Stallards or Brunswicks beforehand. They had already shown the night before that they were happy to shoot him on sight, and he didn't fancy his chances on a narrow road in broad daylight, and he was certain they'd have the road guarded.

After some more sketching and talking, they had a route planned and Ma Withers gave them some more bread and fruit for the journey.

“You know, you 'uns could just sit up here with me and wait til it's all over,” she said as they prepared to leave. “This town has an uncanny way of forgetting all about the mayhem once it's done and gone.”

Grant shook his head. “Not this time. Fifty years ago, maybe, but this town is more connected to the world now and things will get messy. And besides, I simply cannot let Cassie be killed by a demon!”

“And I mean to save my son before he's in so deep there ain't no saving him,” Amos said, his eyes hard.

“I had to try.” Ma Withers smiled and put a bony hand on each of their shoulders. “Well, I done my best and I'll sit here and hope it's enough. You're two strong young men, in mind and body.” The corner of Amos's mouth twitched upward at being called young. “You just might can finish what old Josiah started. You realize, now, that as long as there's a Brunswick left alive with a drop of Josiah's blood, it ain't over.”

They stood in silence for a moment, taking in the implications of Ma's words.

“You mean, without that bloodline, there's no chance of Kaletherex ever coming back?”

“That'd be exactly what I mean. Right now, Cassie is the only virgin girl child left. If she were to, say, lose that virginity…” Ma gave Grant a broad wink.

“Well, I don't know.” Grant cursed the hot red flush he felt run up his cheeks.

“Oh, who do you think you foolin', boy? You sweet on her something fierce. And I reckon she done cottoned to you too.” She flapped a hand at any further protestations. “Any how, that's but one line of attack. You gotta make sure her daddy can't never make another daughter. You know what I mean.” It wasn't a question. “And when you get out of this, you take that girl as far away from Wallen's Gap as you can, and keep your babies away as well.” Ma Withers' face was suddenly serious. “Else Cassie can't be allowed to survive neither.”

“They's other Brunswick kin around here,” Amos said. “All them white folks got their family trees twisted up together.”

“They's some.” Ma Withers nodded slowly. “But not near as many as you think. I know who all is left, and I reckon they all gonna be there tonight.”

Grant looked at the floor, overwhelmed by the possibilities. “I'm going to save Cassie, and help Amos save Elijah. I just don't know if we would even be able to start killing people left and right. I'm not a murderer.”

“It ain't murder to kill the foxes when they in your hen house.” Ma shrugged and patted his shoulder. “I just wants to make sure you going in with open eyes. Now good luck to you both. My thoughts is with you, for all the good they're likely to do.”

Grant leaned down and kissed the old woman on the cheek. “You've done more than enough already, thank you. You've given me a chance.”

“That finger you got gonna cost you, don't forget that. But it could save you too.”

Grant nodded, unsure just how the finger might cost him, but he chose not to think too hard on it. How could he possibly plan for what lay ahead of him? He had a weapon, and a place to take it. Beyond that, he would have to react to things as they happened and hope he came out on top. “Thank you,” he said again.

Ma Withers nodded, but her face was sad. Her eyes, hooded in their myriad folds of dark skin, were wet and she looked more tired than anyone Grant had ever seen.

“You ready, Amos?” Grant asked.

“Ready as I'll ever be. God and Jesus almighty, I wish I was doing about anything right now but what we're planning.”

“Me too, but I guess we don't have any choice.”

“All things happen for a reason,” Ma Withers said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Grant and Amos turned towards the trees and headed off across the clearing. A knot of doubt and fear in Grant's gut weighed him down, but he did his best to ignore it as they strode into the forest.

Ma returned the two men's waves as they disappeared into the trees, and sat heavily into a small chair on her front porch. She had never been so tired, but it had been a long time since she had felt this much at peace.

“I done all I could for you, Grandaddy,” she said in a weak voice. “I think I finally earned me a proper rest.”

She looked out at the trees, at the sunlight dappling through the leaves. Birds sang and a soft breeze rustled through, carrying with it the scent of bark and loam. She had never seen beyond this day, even in her clearest dreams. Grant looked to be every bit the hero she had thought he would be, though he was a far sight younger than she had expected. Dreams and portents were never really clear enough, never gave any true detail. But she had played her part and now Grant and Amos would have to play theirs. She had never been able to see what lay beyond this moment and she was happy with that. She didn't want to see any more. She had hope.

Ma Withers closed her eyes and breathed deeply of the mountain air. Slowly the rise and fall of her chest slowed, became shallower and shallower, until it didn't rise again.