“Who are you?”
“A friend,” he answered. “By the way, can you assist this guy while I help Claire, Officer?” Crush asked as he laid the victim’s head gently to the ground.
“Sure thing. Make sure she doesn’t hurt herself while we’re waiting for help,” Snodgrass recommended. Claire was on the backside of her twisted cab, and she was struggling against the flames to get in the back window. Crush quickly rushed over to stand between her and the growing inferno.
“It’s too late. The fire’s burned up everything inside,” Crush said with his hand gently on her shoulder. Tears were streaming down her face as the flames overcame her truck.
“That truck was my life. It was all I had,” she cried while leaning on Crush’s chest. Not knowing what else he could do, Crush hugged her for a moment. Then they made their way back over to assist Officer Snodgrass with the injured driver. As they came closer, Officer Snodgrass stood up from his crouching position next to the victim, and Crush noticed the similarities between Officer Snodgrass and the injured driver. Crush let go of Claire and rushed to the victim’s side, and to his surprise, the victim’s name tag read: “Officer Snodgrass”. He lay there on the pavement motionless; his face turned a pale blue as if he had been suffocated. Feeling for a pulse, Crush did not find one before the first blow struck, knocking Crush into the overturned trailer. He shook his head to clear his vision, and Crush was in utter disbelief that there were two Officer Snodgrasses, one standing and one unconscious. Worst of all, the conscious one seemed to possess superhuman strength and was headed straight for him, ready to deliver another blow.
Crush stood to his feet and prepared for the coming onslaught. Snodgrass threw a right hook which Crush easily ducked beneath by getting into a squat position. Launching himself like a rocket, Crush tackled the rogue trooper to the ground. Snodgrass then landed a punch to the kidney, rolled over, and pinned Crush to the pavement with his body while he tried to land yet another solid punch to Crush’s head. Two punches pounded deep into the pavement, but Crush narrowly dodged both fists before snatching Snodgrass’ head between his knees. In a whip like motion, Crush flung the assailant over the guard rail and into the heap of scattered lumber. Ready for action, Crush leapt to his feet and sprinted to Claire’s side. She was working to revive the real Officer Snodgrass by giving him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation when Crush knelt down beside her.
“We have to go now,” he urged her in a husky voice, still trying to catch his breath. “That thing will kill us both if it can.” Heaving a sigh of relief, he noticed that Snodgrass was now breathing on his own. Some color had returned to the trooper, but he was not out of the woods yet. Thanks to Claire’s intervention, he was alive, and she was hesitant to leave the trooper behind.
“We can’t abandon him, Crush,” she simply replied. Seeing the pity in her eyes, Crush grasped the feeble trooper with both arms and carried him to his patrol car where they stretched him out in the back seat. Claire removed the car keys from his pocket and seized the driver’s seat before Crush could protest. “Get in quick!” she shouted, and not wanting to waste any more precious time, Crush jumped in the passenger’s seat. Within seconds they were through the crash scene and ahead of the traffic jam that had collected around the massive wreck.
“Where are you headed?” Crush asked.
“To the nearest hospital,” she said as she took the next exit ramp. With sirens blaring, she crossed the bridge and whipped onto the next exit ramp going the opposite direction on Interstate 40 towards Winston-Salem.
“I can’t argue with you there. Snodgrass is in bad shape,” agreed Crush. “I just hope no one else recognizes me. Yet.”
As they passed the crash scene from the opposite side of the interstate, a lone figure stood on top of the burning rubble. Staring him down, Crush caught his eyes, and the look of hatred ran deep in the mimic creature’s expression. To Crush’s astonishment, the creature acknowledged them, throwing his fists into the air as they continued down the road. Crush knew that look from past experience. He was being stalked by a demon.
“We’re not finished with him yet either,” he said with a sigh. In the rear view mirror, they saw the figure lift a stopped red two-seater vehicle over his head, empty out the passengers, and place the car over the median into the westbound lanes. The fight that had begun so few minutes ago was not over. Without hesitation, Claire stomped the gas pedal to the floor in hopes of gaining a strong enough lead to lose sight of the demon. Otherwise, he would follow them straight to the hospital and finish what was started.
“You’ve got some explaining to do, Crush! What the heck have you stepped into?” demanded Claire as she kept her eyes glued to the traffic that seemed to whiz by as if it were standing still. Gripping the dashboard in an attempt to steady himself in the jostling patrol car, Crush thought through the scenarios in his head before he answered.
“I’m not absolutely certain, but there was something familiar about that creature. Like it knew me,” he replied while still analyzing the events in his mind. Claire looked over at him and then quickly brought her eyes back over just in time to whip the car into another lane, narrowly missing the bumper of a slow moving sedan. Crush’s head slammed into the passenger window with the sudden shift. “That’s not helping,” he chided.
“Sorry,” she said with an apologetic smile. Then she quickly whipped the vehicle to the right through two lanes of traffic, narrowly threading between a tractor trailer and a bus.
After passing hundreds of cars and weaving through endless traffic they took the hospital exit and followed the blue “H” signs into the city.
“Put this on,” Claire said as she handed Crush the trooper’s hat. “It’ll cover your ears.” Crush played along as they pulled into the carport overhang area of the emergency department. Without hesitation she leaped out of the car instantly and ran through the automatic doors inside in the emergency room. Minutes later, two emergency workers came out with a stretcher and carefully removed Officer Snodgrass from the patrol car, placed him onto the stretcher, and wheeled him inside for examination. Claire then leaned into the car, kissed Crush on the lips, and put her hand on his cheek.
“Thanks for saving my life. Now get out of here before that . . . that thing finds us,” she ordered with a nervous grin. Then she ran back into the hospital, leaving Crush by himself again and wondering about that kiss.
“Now what,” he said to himself. As if in answer to his own question, he switched to the driver’s seat and drove out of the hospital parking lot and into the city to find another interstate out of town. He had heard Claire mention a Business 40 Highway on the race in to the hospital, and he stumbled upon the road just north of the city by accident. Upon taking Business 40 East, he breathed a sigh of relief as he merged with the morning traffic. With any luck he would be in Durham within a couple of hours.
**********
The clouds began to swirl in the sky above Winston-Salem, and a cold bitter west wind had set in upon the city. The rogue trooper in the red two-seater laughed to himself as the darkness slowly crept in across the sky.
“Soon, this place will be ours,” he mocked as he followed the patrol car heading east on the highway.
Chapter 3
*
Salem Witch Hunt
*
In the utter darkness before dawn, the two witches paced the brick walkway leading to the church. At the foot of the steps, they stopped to observe the landscape surrounding the architectural symbol of holiness. They were displeased.
Holding hands and kneeling together, the twins closed their eyes to focus together, piercing the thin veil between life and death. On the other side, they felt the presence of their master.
“We are here, as you instructed us, Lord Drakthos,” they chanted together. “What is your wish?”
“You know my wish, sisters, and you know that I have been cheated of my victory!” t
he lord of evil burst out in bitterness.
“Yes, Lord, we know of the girl and of the half-breed,” they answered in reference to Sherry and Crush. “We bring war here for you in your absence,” they moaned in chorus.
“Do not remind me again of the past!” he commanded as they covered their faces in shame. “The Staff has been taken from them. See to it that they do not get the Quilt. And if you can, bring a sacrifice back to this world.”
“My Lord, how do you know they are coming to the . . . church,” the word spewed out in disgust as it crossed their lips.
“I have my sources, hags. You remember your role in days of old, do you not?” he laughed aloud, and they joined in the wicked mirth. “Now get busy,” he ordered and sent them back to earth. The two witches of old stood side-by-side and hand-in-hand.
“Shall we, my sister?” asked one hag.
“We shall. After all, we are back in Salem,” said the other. Then they joined hands in a dance of darkness. They clutched each other’s wrists and spun in a whirl, faster and faster until the wind howled in response. They were lifted skyward in a wicked spin of corruption, and the contamination from the sins of the past gathered in the clouds of the city, blocking the piercing light of daybreak upon the Moravian historic district.
**********
“If that Sheriff was an impostor, then I wonder what happened to the deputy that this car belonged to,” said Seth. As Phil drove them south on Highway 52, Seth, Sherry, Dr. Tatum, and Pound all looked one to another for an answer, but none came. “This is now a stolen vehicle. You do know that we could be blamed for whatever happened to him or her, too,” he continued.
“It’s a little late to be worrying about that. If we had stayed there at the safe house with the empty car and with no sheriff to be found, we would have been in question anyways,” surmised Pound. “But we should make an attempt to notify the few people on our side about the situation. What do you think, Doc?”
“I agree, but I have a feeling that we may be on our own for a while. At any rate, I’ll make a call and see if there is anyone that can help us in Winston,” said Dr. Tatum. She then made a call from her prepaid phone, and after a short coded conversation, she hung up. “Well, for now, there is no help in Winston-Salem that we can lean on,” she said with a frown before continuing. “Due to the circumstances, the agency received an alarm at the safe house, and a pair of special agents based in Roanoke, Virginia, have been activated. They have been tasked with securing the safe house near Mt. Airy, and then they will meet us in Tobaccoville to exchange vehicles.”
“What will happen to this vehicle?” asked Sherry. Dr. Tatum shrugged her shoulders in response, signifying that she was not sure. Sherry could only imagine that the agents would wipe it out down clean and make sure that it was found in its normal parking spot. Finding the missing deputy would be the job of the local authorities.
“I’ve got another question. This one is more related to our survival,” said Seth. “What was that thing that broke into the safe house? Without exerting much effort, it destroyed the front door and nearly killed David.”
“It’s a mimic of sorts,” replied Pound as he caught an uncertain look in the reflection of Phil’s eyes in the rear view mirror. “It’s able to take on the appearance of others while still maintaining a high level of power.”
“At the Senator’s office, I think it escaped from the abyss when Drakthos broke through into our dimension,” added Sherry.
“What makes you say that?” asked Seth. “It could have come from anywhere.”
“No. Not just anywhere,” answered Sherry. “When I was trapped on the other side, surrounded by darkness and evil, I could sense them all around me. I had that same . . . feeling . . . at the safe house. There was no joy or happiness, only sadness and fear. What scares me even more is that there were three of those beings that escaped in Durham, and collectively, we can’t handle even one of them.”
“Three of them, you say. One of them must be chasing Crush then,” said Pound. “That leaves two more on the loose for us to confront. Doc, what do you hope to gain with the Quilt of Blessings?”
“Well, isn’t it obvious,” smirked Dr. Tatum. “A blessing.”
**********
Fortunately, the next twenty minutes of the drive were relatively uneventful. The group planned out how they would acquire the Quilt and then hoped they would be able to reunite with Crush once again before seeing an end to this madness.
The Quilt was sheltered in the Moravian church in the historic district, and each member of the group had their own idea about how to enter the building. In the end, it was decided that they would all go into the church together, and Pound would find a way to use his abilities to commune with plant life to maneuver the treasured artifact to a quiet spot on the grounds. If all went well, it would be simple to bundle the Quilt into the trunk of the sheriff’s car and meet up with the other agents in Tobaccoville.
“It’s a rough draft, no doubt, but we will have to act together to sort out the details and make it happen,” urged Dr. Tatum with an air of confidence.
“I still don’t feel right about stealing from a church,” added Sherry.
“Of course. And it’s not stealing. We are only borrowing it for the better good, which is why the Quilt was made in the first place,” Dr. Tatum reminded the group.
“I don’t mean to interrupt your planning, Doc, but have you seen the skies this morning?” asked Phil as he pointed out the windshield to the unusually dark morning atmosphere. It was past daybreak, the team was on the outskirts of Winston-Salem, and high above the skyline, thick black clouds were swirling in an ever expanding vortex. Dr. Tatum’s jaw dropped in stunned silence.
“Plan all you like, Doc, but I don’t think this job is going to be that simple,” noted Pound. The closer the proximity to downtown, the darker and windier the weather became. Suddenly out of the east, a cruel gust of wind shoved the vehicle onto the highway siding and across the rumble strip. Phil was barely able to keep the vehicle from scraping the guard rail before correcting their course and coming to a stop.
“Doc, I don’t think this is such a good idea anymore,” Phil exclaimed.
“We have to remain positive, Phil, but I’m beginning to agree,” Dr. Tatum said and turned to the others for their input. “I’m open to suggestions if anyone has a better idea.”
“Turn around?” murmured Seth, for which he drew grave expressions of irritation from Dr. Tatum and Pound simultaneously.
“Doc,” said Sherry. “I am getting that same sense of . . . foreboding . . . that I had at the safe house earlier.” She was cradling her injured arm, and she did not look well at all.
“Everything’s going to be all right, Sherry. You’re with friends, and we’ll protect you,” Pound said as he placed his arm around her and comforted her. Dr. Tatum herself suddenly recalled losing Sherry once before, and she was determined not to let that happen again.
“Pound is right. We are not going to let anything like that happen to you again,” Dr. Tatum reassured her.
By this time the wind outside had settled into a constant howl, debris was flying across the four lane highway, and most vehicles had pulled over to weather the sudden storm.
“Can you make it?” Dr. Tatum queried Phil. “It isn’t much further,” she added meekly as she watched a street sign fly by like a javelin. Phil returned a look of uncertainty.
“I can’t guarantee anything,” he said as he shifted back into drive and crept slowly down the debris ridden highway.
“We just need to go forward a couple of more exits,” said Seth who was familiar with the area. “The eye of the storm is centered over downtown.” Just then they passed a political advertisement on a billboard that read “Stand Firm”, which promptly twisted off the wooden poles and cut sideways towards their car. Without hesitation, Phil stomped the gas pedal and tore out of the path of the massive struct
ure before it could strike. Moving at high speed, they nearly missed the exit for downtown as they roared past stopped vehicles along the road. Phil yanked the emergency brake and flung the loaded vehicle sideways into the turn, pinching the passengers in the back seat into a tangled glob of humanity.
“Everybody okay?” he asked with his eyes still on the road.
“Worst field trip ever,” remarked Seth.
**********
Cruising into the old downtown of the city, they entered the historical area of Winston-Salem. There were no signs of life roaming about the brick paved streets that morning, and the street lights were all dim along the way. An eerie foreboding rested on the neighborhood as a misty fog developed in the calm of the eye of the storm. Phil parked the cruiser at the entrance of the historic district, and the team carefully entered the Moravian streets side-by-side, not knowing the fate that awaited them.
“You say the church is by the cemetery,” said Pound.
“Yes, down one block and over to the right two blocks,” replied Seth as he recalled the middle school field trip from his childhood. They turned the corner at the end of the first block and marched uphill to the next intersection, watching in all directions as the thick mist along the ground thickened. Soon enveloped in a dense fog, they could no longer see the street beneath their feet.
“Okay, this is really creeping me out,” said Sherry as she pointed to the church a block away. On the steps to the entrance stood a solitary figure, a lady with long straight brown hair and a malevolent expression on her visage.