“That’s your reasoning?” Phoenix demanded, jerking against Rovo's clutch. “Hearsay based off rumors!”
Dal scoffed. “That’s just the beginning. The cemetery damn near qualifies as her backyard. She lives there all alone, no mother, no dad. Well, not that anyone has ever seen since they refused to buy her the car she wanted for her sixteenth birthday.” His eyes were enlarged. “She searched the pawn shop for something powerful, determined to make them rue the day. Archie as my witness,”(another of his close cohorts) “the Rude-Bayka was seen leaving the shop the next day with haste, clutched to her chest, a mysterious book covered in runes. When he attempted to follow her, she saw him and took off through the woods. As you know, he’s a track star; nobody in town holds a candle to him. But that day, she gassed him. By the time he got to the edge of the Treeline there was no sign of her. Then all of a sudden he hears this squawking, which becomes a rushing noise in the bushes, before a swirl of bats explode around him! That was the last thing he remembers before waking up on the floor of his bedroom.”
“Your witness is biased!” protested Pheo, and scanned around. Judging from the spellbound visages, his story was holding some kind of water. But it was only boiling Phoenix. “C’mon people, can you honestly accept this as truth?” Those around the room began to find their lap the most appealing thing for miles, as a few unsure grunts were thrown out. I absently traced an old scar on my wrist. She tossed in, “That really just sounds like a whacked out dream or some drug-induced crud.”
“Then how do you explain what happened that weekend," the mobster piped up again. "When Archie boldly went out to her house to investigate?” “He set out walking his dog, acting as a passerby so he might unassumingly check his suspicions. He had hoped he’d be wrong.” I had to hanDallas one thing: he possessed a riveTempo of tale supplying.
“Arch was relieved to happen upon Ruby and her two sisters sitting in the backyard, innocently fooling around. Until he glimpsed the same ancient book, pages of dark arts unfolding to the sky! Until he saw what lay helpless at the center enduring such evildoing!” A shivery, tingle sliced through my spine as he reached the crescendo. “They had it splayed out upon exotic shapes depicted in the dirt, bound by rope. A kitten with a busted leg, chest heaving, stared up in alarm as the merciless killers raked at it with an array of needles, vessels, and thin, unholy tools.”
With sincerity Trent blew, “All they’re missing is the pointy hats and bubbling pot.”
“Exactly. Not only the Voodoo priestess, but her sisters too.” Teeth flashed. “Need I say more? She was training them!”
“Not at all,” Malibu said, breaking the trance. “It seems we’ve gotten off track.”
Siggy ground against his bean bag, pitched it behind us somewhere on the middle of the flotilla bed, growling, “Rigorous case! When she gets here, why don’t we cook her alive with the very Bazooka she’s bringing? That’ll be shore to solve all our troBowls.” I swore in agreement within mind, feeding off the energy of his sore-Chasm. We'd wasted precious time considering the inane topic of whether or not Rebecca was practicing witchcraft. Shallow and stupid; there can’t be much truth to that or we’d have inexplicable incidents frequently befalling townsfolk.
Rovone was impressed. “Woah. Where did she get one of those Bad Boys?”
“Tweak the wording of a spell,” Dallas suggested, “Presto!”
“Sut up, you're drunk punk,” started Siggy, “day rocKey LawnChore is a contribution from Saul.” I could see the grief seep into his face with mention of the name. “Who be journeying out here, for no authoReason than to weild his precious contrapShone.”
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Now I knew what really had him going all snarls: a double-whammy. Saul wasn’t precisely blood to Siggy; his surname was Waggire, not Riverain. But half-blood is a close second place. “Don’t feel bad…” belcheDal Capone. “There are multiple shells: We can save one for her.”
Gutterson flailed his arms, “Would you pipe down about that already! We’re in a real mess here.” He was beyond disgruntled, nevertheless harrumphed, and mumbled, “Pardon me.” Alas, the snob was finally shocked.
Yeah, grab some sober pie, Nitwit. - “So,” I wanted to round things up. “Hexes aside, what we have here is a second force who are, unfortunately, oblivious to the added High Strangeness that we found -- but privileged to be lugging one royal Artillery.” I thought that might brighten the mood a touch. Then I recounted what I just said and realized little had changed about the predicament since we first stumbled through the doors. So i turned to Mali, and asked, “You got any stuff easier to carry and just as intimidating?”
"Yeah," Trent stressed. "Cause I heard the pirates have poison frogs, mermaids, & laser abduction cannons in their ranks."
"There's not supposed to be any laser beams," Capone replied.
“Then why were there so many police boats washing up the Caribbean in scorched smithereens over the winter?” Rovo inquired.
Pheo face-palmed: "I don't think we're living in an outrageous actioNovel, guys."
"Well," Gut sufficed, “I don’t have sniper scopes, but I do keep lasers around that can put a hole through a rhino at 500 yards. Well, for a steady hand.” He threw me a wry grin. “But several are very ‘Light’ in nature. Those don’t take much to inspire terror in the Treacherous.”
“Excellent,” I replied, sporting a rogue grin.
The life of the room once more regressed to morose. Siggy went pacing around, every so often crossing in front of me. Trent was done playing Spiderman and started to strip off gear to clamber down from his Perch. Dallas had now turned into a schizophrenic uttering mumbo jumbo while snickering to himself. Phoenix and Rovo were calmly holding hands. Malibu stroked at the side of his neck.
Seemed like a good time to fall back into the plush bed behind me, so I did, and stared this way and that trying to focus on something trifle. The posters weren’t fulfilling, to my disappointment, and as if remaining unrelieved wasn’t bad enough, my vision struck poison.
Arranged in a triangle there were three pictures of a lady. The picture on top showed a fair woman with laughing eyes and an infectious smile. There was richness to her skin and brunette hair, unlike the ones below that did not cultivate such radiance.
The hair was still long in the next, but not the vibrant, billowing sea that once had shimmered, and below straining eyes, sat a well-disguised smile taxed by the regret and corruption it had encountered along the way.
The last resigned from hiding. Wrinkles stood out against greasy skin. Her miniscule smile was betrothed to the snapshot itself & caused her glassy eyes to appear they held back a wall of water; retreating eyes no longer framed by swirls of coffee, but a frazzle so rigid, it may well have been a wig.
They were all the same. Each was Gutterson’s wife.
After her children had moved off, and she had been deprived of her pilot’s license in a petty legal argument, much of the purpose felt lost from her life. Then there had been the suicide. That was the info the News pressed anyhow.
“So let’s get our hands on some firepower?” Rovo appealed. Trent hopped down and peeled off his footwear and gloves, each action slicing through the stillness with deafening rips.
“No doubt, but pace yourselves yet,” Gutterson replied. “We should take a few minutes to eat. I’m gonna need a handful to fetch gear from the back anyhow, and then to explain how some of them work.” Slipping into Daydream over the widowhood saga as he spoke, I watched Siggy pacing instead, recalling flashes of the murder scene my father allowed to pass on the TV Screen when it rolled through the headlines as a young child.
Siggy planted along his patrol: “You know whudday say: can’t perform at Top Notch on an empty stowMock. Last meal anyone?”
“You pessimist,” I mumbled, feeling a grin curl.
“Following that Pyram,” Gutt suffered my attention back to him. “I’d ignite your assistance in retrieving. And if the rest of you would just remain here & chill out; play games or something - and make sure to keep eyes on your injured buddy -- not just for the company but in case there be complications.”