The humidity had risen since I left the office, even without checking the forecast I could tell. Sweat clung to my skin like a wet towel while my car lurched along the dirt road as I drove down towards the scene of the first known scene that the Kings Horn cult was supposedly tied to. the sun beat through my window diminishing any good that the air conditioner may have been doing. I had emailed the Hellen police department, the Sheriffs department and the county courthouse clerk and requested a copy of all the affidavits, photos or any other information they had about every scene that was suspected of being tied to the cult. I had printed them out and tossed them in the front passenger seat. Troy had made certain that at least one cop from the closest town responded, strangely enough, at least two thirds of those scenes were within a ten mile radius of Hellen. I had my suspicions about the potential reasons, but for now it was better to just gather the facts.
Dirt billowed out from behind me as I drove, the road had been grated recently which meant a storm was in the forecast. Hopefully sooner rather than later, Oklahoma heat was tolerable. The humidity on the other hand was a different beast entirely, the southeastern Oklahoma humidity could make a reasonable 86 degrees feel like 100 degrees.
The flat green pastures with grazing cattle slowly slid away, trees sprung up on either side of the narrowing road and mountains could be seen peeking over their boughs.
My stomach grumbled reminding me that I had not eaten breakfast, I reached for the styrofoam cup that sat next to me in the center console and cursed glancing to the empty cup in my hand before shoving it into the bulging plastic bag in floorboard behind my seat. I mentally made a note to stop in at the small gas station in Rodger on my way to the second scene turned off into the clearing that had been made by responders investigating the scene. The sun shone bright in the clearing and all was eerily still as I parked my car. When the engine cut off as I took the key out of the ignition all sound fell from the world. There were no birds chirping, no trees whispering in the wind, nothing. I sat there for a moment surveying the area through my dust covered windshield.
If you didn't know what happened here you could almost consider having a picnic here.
The inordinately loud tone of my phone sounding from my pocket made me jump, hitting my head on the roof, and I fumbled trying to pull it out. I sighed, looking at the caller ID and swiped to answer it.
"Hey, where are you at?" The voice was gruff and held an undercurrent of agitation. Connor, our publisher was normally a very laid back unflappable person.
"looking into some information about Troy Wann" I said, stepping out of my car. I grabbed my camera and sat on the hood of my car before I pulled out my cigarettes. " Why, something wrong?"
Connor sighed. " Our intern reporter just got arrested for assault. What happened with Wann?"
I stopped for a moment, the flame from the lighter disappearing as I released the trigger and pulled the unlit cigarette from my mouth. " What did Danielle do?" I asked as I tried to imagine Danielle, our interning reporter who was currently only in her first semester of college, assault someone. Danielle is a small, wiry thing with pale olive skin, big brown eyes, short black hair and far too many ear piercings to count. The only thing I could really imagine her attacking was a large pizza and I still had difficulty seeing that one.
" One of the members of the Covenant church was heckling her while she was picking up her lunch, threatening fire and brimstone if she didn't change her way and kept trying to give her all these pamphlets and a bible when she decided to throw them and the bible hit the lady's foot. She apparently fell to the ground immediately and started screaming assault." Connor sighed and I could almost see him pinching the bridge of his nose.
The Covenant of the King, or more commonly referred to as the Covenant Church, was very old testament in their beliefs. Though they aren't as fanatical as the Westboro congregation they had still earned a name for themselves and in the worst ways. They were among those who were under the strict belief that all preternatural citizens were descendants of devils, demons and the fallen deserving of condemnation or better yet extermination. Members of the congregation were known to picket outside of the centers where preternatural citizens were to receive their required training. They had even passed around a petition in an attempt to revoke the preternatural citizens right, stating that they were nothing more than vermin and that 'God fearing citizens' should be allowed to hunt them like any other vermin. Thankfully, and quite surprisingly, the majority of Oklahoma legislators had laughed them off refusing to even consider a bill that would allow such a thing.
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" The shop is pulling their tapes right now, but their manager is being slow, there’s a rumor that he is a member of the church as well. Tell me about Wann. Does it have to do with the visitor you had earlier?"
"Yeah, got a tip about him getting canned for potential misconduct. Nothing solid yet, but if it turns out to be true, it could be big." I say lighting the lighter then releasing the trigger and relighting it. I stared at the flame, an odd sensation raising gooseflesh on the back of my neck and arms. The flame danced and swayed as if caressed by the wind.
"My phone battery is nearly dead so I'm going to hop off here. I'll let you know when I have more information." I say looking around the clearing as I hang up and shove the phone in my pocket.
I slid slowly off the hood and grabbed my camera, my eyes scanning the clearing. The trees and underbrush silently sat still offering the same picturesque scene that had greeted me when I pulled in. Fear rose up my spine and throat settling in my mouth like a tide of burnt copper as a liquid heat began to fill my limbs. I frowned and fought to swallow back the feelings as adrenaline inexplicably pooled in my veins.
It took everything I had not to get back into my car as sweat slid down my spine and my stomach knotted into a cold pit. Instead, I slipped the camera strap over my neck and switched the camera setting to manual, adjusted the ISO and held the trigger down as I swept the lens slowly across the clearing.
Taking photos like this with a DSLR camera meant that you could take photos as quickly as the shutters would open and close until you had no more memory on the card but there was a sacrifice in the quality. Since it was unlikely that any of these photos were going to be used in the paper the quality was not an issue so long as I was able to get the hell out of the clearing as quickly as possible. Then I pulled back from the viewfinder after doing two quick passes of the clearing, including the ground and treetops, hoping that the quality was good enough that if there was something that had been missed it would be caught. The display showed some graininess to the photos but it was still clear and there was no blurring in the first ten or so that I scrolled through. I did one more quick pass of the clearing for good measure and just before I turned off the camera I switched back over and took a photo that would be at least passable if we needed to use it in the future for a story before hopping in my car. Three more sites to go.
I twisted the key in the ignition but was greeted with only silence.
I sat there for a moment before trying again only to receive the same result. Frowning I pulled the hood release trigger and slid out of the car. The hood of of my 1997 Chevrolet Malibu groaned as I lifted it , carefully securing the prop rod before leaning down to examine the battery. As old as the car was it was entirely possible that one of the wires had a short or had come loose driving down the gravel road on the way to the clearing. If there was a short I would need a volt stick to find it, something that I didn't own much less carry on a daily basis, and there was no indication of any loose wires.
The sound of distant, but quickly approaching thunder, began to echo off the trees around me and I looked up. The sky was a pale robin's egg color with no clouds in sight so I looked around. Dust rose in clouds along the gravel road, light glinting off the windows of the golden colored pick up truck as it approached slowing to a crawl before pulling partially into the clearing. The window sunk into the door and an elderly man with leather like skin and a gaunt face leaned out. His pale silver hair was combed to the side, stark against the dark tan of his skin.
" Whatcha doing son?" His voice was coarse like he had been chewing on gravel and his accent was thicker than cold honey.
" I was taking some photos for work, but now my car wont start. " I said, trying to force out a similar accent with a somewhat sheepish tone. People with accents as thick as that had a tendency to be prejudice against those who didn't have a similar accent. Especially when out in the middle of nowhere, if I wasn't able to convince him to help me then I would have to wait at least 45 minutes for roadside assistance to get out here. I had already spent more time than what I was comfortable with in the clearing.
The man sat there considering for a moment before pulling his Chevrolet Silverado 1500 alongside my car. He let the truck die and popped the hood. " Yeh got cables" He asked. I nodded and got them from my trunk handing one end to him. My eyes lingered on his hands which were wrapped in thick black leather work gloves that were coated in a layer of grease and dirt. He hooked up the cables, his back to me and called over his shoulder " Whats yer name son?"
"Declan, sir." I said as I hooked up my end and turned to him, the forced heavy drawl felt odd rolling off my tongue. "You?"
"Horace Quill" he said with a slight nod gesturing for me to get into my car as he slid into his truck starting it.
I felt my eyebrows raise slightly and turned to get into my car trying to keep a relaxed expression. I wondered silently if the pastor of the Covenant Church had heard about the supposed altercation between one of his congregation members and my coworker.
"Give her a moment an then turn it over, it'll need a bit of a trickle charge." He called over the hum of his engine.
I nodded and sat there, fingers playing along the seems of my jeans, silently counting the seconds and mentally kicking myself for having skipped breakfast again. The second I was able to get out of the clearing I was going to drive to the nearest store or gas station and get something to eat. Then I was going to call the Sherif's office and check if Troy had gotten a lawyer yet. If he hadn't that meant that I could try for a statement, if he had then it would likely be one of the Bureau suits and there was no chance for a statement.
"Try now." Quill called, leaning out his window, snapping me focus back to the here and now.
I turned the key, three small clicking noises came from the engine before it came to life with a whine.