Legend of Witchtrot Road (17 page)

For the first time today, Simon and I were in agreement.

*****

Witchtrot Road was only marginal y less creepy during daylight. That may have been due, in part, to the fog. Fog was rol ing along the ground and over tree roots like smoke bil owing over ancient dragon claws. Trees grew out of the frozen leaf litter, reaching up through the mist, skeletal branches stretched to block out the sky.

The forest was horror movie spooky.

It had been an unseasonably warm day when we left my house, but Witchtrot Road seemed to gather and hold close the chil of winter. I shivered against the cold as we hopped out of Cal’s truck to look at the site of our recent car crash.

Tendrils of fear crept up my spine.

It was amazing that we had survived.

Paral el grooves ran off into the trees at a dark patch of bumpy road. Closer inspection revealed the bumps were not part of the road itself, but tiny frozen toad bodies.

Simon bent down to examine the toads, but I looked away.

Ewww…gross, and sad. Poor little toads.
I was warmed with a flash of anger. What did these little creatures ever do to deserve this?

Cal reached for my hand and we stepped down into a deep ditch. Fol owing the tire tracks, I was surprised to see them disappear so quickly. Oh yeah, we flipped over. You don’t leave tire tracks when your tires are spinning against the sky. I stumbled as the image of hanging upside down inside Emma’s car made me miss my footing.

“You okay?” Cal asked, holding me upright.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I said.

“Find anything?” Cal asked as Simon joined us.

Simon was stuffing a plastic baggy into his jacket pocket and I real y hoped it wasn’t fil ed with dead toad.

“There were frozen toads, but no ice,” Simon said.

“Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

“Yes, there should have been a layer of ice,” Cal said.

“Yuki, do you remember it raining or were there just toads fal ing from the sky?”

“Um, just the toads,” I said.

“I think that rules out a weather event as the cause,” Simon said.

“I agree,” Cal said. “That leaves the possibility of someone launching the toads at Emma’s car.”

“Or aliens,” I said. “But if it wasn’t aliens, why would anyone want to throw toads at our car?”

“Maybe there is something here that someone doesn’t want discovered,” Simon said.

“A scary legend, and the threat of an accident, would keep most people away,” Cal agreed.

“So what are they hiding?” I asked.

“I think we’re going to find out,” Cal said.

*****

Cal and Simon raised their heads to sniff the forest air.

Whatever they could smel , it wasn’t a ghost. I didn’t smel anything at al , not even Dylan Jacobs. Dylan seemed to stil be trapped at Wakefield High.
Poor guy.

“What do you smel ?” I asked.

“I’m not sure,” Cal said.

“It’s too faint,” Simon said. “We should shift into wolf form and try to catch the scent.”

Cal hesitated and squeezed my hand.

“It’s okay,” I said. “Simon is right. You’l be able to uncover clues faster if you use al of your wolf senses.”

“I’l be right over there,” Cal said, indicating an overgrown bush.

Why was he going into a bush? Oh, right, he had to remove his clothes. I tried not to blush.

“Okay,” I said.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Simon asked, winking.

Cal glared at Simon and growled, “You have ten seconds to get behind that bush and you’re not to come out until you’re covered in fur.”

“Oh okay, but if I get poison ivy, I’m blaming you,” Simon said over his shoulder.

“He does realize it’s the middle of winter, right?” I asked. “The chances of getting poison ivy are pretty slim.”

“Don’t remind him,” Cal said, grinning. “He’l only start complaining about the cold.”

Cal walked over to the bush and I turned my back to give the guys some privacy. A few minutes later Cal’s silver wolf loped up beside me. He nudged my hip with his shoulder and I sank my hand into the ruff of fur around his neck. The wolf looked up at me with Cal’s beautiful blue eyes and smiled. He smel ed of wet dog and sunshine.

Simon waited for us from a few yards ahead. He stood on a fal en tree, his dark fur a sharp contrast against the lingering fog. At a nod from Cal, Simon vaulted off the tree and into the forest. He quickly disappeared into the darkness and mist.
It must be nice to have super
awesome wolf vision.

The fog was thickening and I could barely see the ground at my feet. It was a good thing that I wore tal , tightly laced, steal-toe boots. Tree roots, loose rocks, and frozen brambles tangled my every step. Even with Cal at my side, I was at constant risk of breaking a toe or twisting my ankle.

I tried to force my awareness outward, the way that Simon had taught us during our training sessions, but I couldn’t sense any spirits. I also didn’t see any glowing spectral forms either. The woods seemed to be empty of al creatures, alive or dead. No squirrels scampered and no birds sang. Maine woods are not usual y silent, even in winter, but the forest along Witchtrot Road seemed devoid of sound. It was as though the fog swal owed the voices of al who traveled here.

A howl broke the silence and I stumbled into Cal’s solid form. Cal tilted his head to the side and, at some signal unheard by my human ears, pushed me back toward the road. I didn’t argue. I was more than ready to get out of the gloomy forest.

Cal pushed me to keep a good pace, so I was relieved when he came to an abrupt stop at the bush where we started. Cal was barely back in human form when Simon, who had also shifted, grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the road.

“Hurry!” Simon shouted.

I was already breathing heavily, but I sprinted to the truck with my last burst of energy. Al of my bruises and sore muscles from the night before screamed at me in protest as I launched myself up into the passenger seat.

Simon jumped into the driver’s seat and Cal slid in beside me. The engine roared to life and Simon swung the truck onto Witchtrot Road with deadly speed.

I closed my eyes and buried my face into Cal’s shoulder. I prayed that Simon’s werewolf reflexes could keep the truck on the narrow road and that I wouldn’t end up in another accident.

“What did you find?” Cal asked.

I lifted my head, curious. What, or who, were we running from?

“Let me get us off this bloody road,” Simon said. “I’l feel better when I’m sure we’re out of range of being shot or blown up.”

Simon flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror and relaxed his white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel.

Apparently whatever he was afraid of wasn’t fol owing us, yet. What could be scary enough to freak out Simon?
He
was kidding about being shot or blown up, right?
Cal raised an eyebrow at Simon, but didn’t ask any more questions.

Chapter 14

After five minutes of driving at breakneck speeds down winding back roads, Simon maneuvered the truck into a bumpy, gravel parking lot adjacent to a smal church. I would normal y protest against parking so close to a church, since a graveyard fil ed with spirits of the dead was almost certainly nearby, but I was too curious to complain.

What had Simon discovered in the dark forest of Witchtrot Road?

“What was in the woods?” I blurted out.

“And what was that smel ?” Cal asked. “You scouted ahead of us, but I caught the scent you were fol owing. It was like a harsh chemical smel , but, you know, different.” Simon sighed and stared straight ahead, out through the windshield, and across the empty gravel parking lot. I fol owed his gaze, but there was nothing there. Simon seemed to be trying to gauge how much to tel us. That just made me mad. Why hold something back from his friends?

“Simon?” Cal asked.

Cal’s voice was gentle, but there must have been a note of command hiding in his words. Simon jerked, like a puppet on a string, and swung his head to face Cal directly.

“This information could place you in danger,” Simon said. “Are you sure you real y want to know?”

“Yes,” Cal and I said in unison.

Simon let out a long sigh and rubbed his hands over his face, fingers lingering over his scar.

“It was a meth lab,” Simon said. “I thought I recognized the scent. That’s why I ran ahead…to be sure.” Simon knew what a meth lab smel ed like? No real surprise there. He ran with some shady characters after Meredith died and seemed to keep in touch with many of them.

“Meth?” I asked. “Doesn’t that stuff make you, like, a zombie or something?”

I

remember

watching

a

documentary

about

methamphetamine abuse. It was scarier than any late night horror movie. Users ended up with permanent schizophrenia and Parkinson’s symptoms. They also lost al their teeth.
Ewww.

“Yes,” Simon said. “It can make you like a zombie…or worse, usual y the latter.”

Simon looked worried and haunted. His hands were twitching whenever he let go of the steering wheel. He would look down and see them shaking, then reach back up to slide his hands over the leather covering.

“I can’t believe there’s a meth lab here in Maine,” Cal said.

Simon may have looked haunted, but Cal looked defeated. Cal’s shoulders slumped forward as he shook his head. We were a great team against wayward werewolves and lost spirits, but what could we do against evil drug dealers?

There was no mistake that these people were evil.

They were bringing drugs into our town, probably into our school, and hurting anyone who came too close to their operation. These people had used the legend of Witchtrot Road to scare away passersby, but they had gone too far.

Way too far.

“They threw the toads at Dylan’s motorcycle and Emma’s car, didn’t they?” I asked.

“Were there toads at the scene of Dylan’s accident?” Cal asked.

“Yes,” I said. “The kids at school thought it was more evidence of the legendary curse.”

“These people need to be stopped,” Simon growled.

“I can’t believe anyone would go so far to protect their secret,” Cal said. “They kil ed Dylan, and almost kil ed Emma and Yuki, to keep people away from their drug lab.”

“That lab is worth a lot of money and these people are ruthless,” Simon said. “They’l go to any lengths to continue producing drugs. That’s why knowing their secret is so dangerous.”

“Did you real y mean what you said about trying to avoid being shot and blown up?” I asked.

“Yes,” Simon said. “It wouldn’t be unusual for these people to be armed and meth labs have been known to blow up. The people who run the labs are not always the most intel igent.”

Great, idiots with guns.

Cal squeezed my hand and I knew he was worried.

We had just been running around in a forest that hid armed drug dealers and a potential y combustible,
possibly
explosive
drug lab. We were lucky to be alive.

“We need a plan,” Cal said, sitting up straight.

“Someone needs to stop these people.”

My skin crawled like spiders were dancing beneath the surface and the truck fil ed with the smel of lamp oil, charcoal, and burning leaves.
Son of a dung beetle
. There were five or six shadowy, gray shapes moving steadily toward us.

I real y needed to get working on that Wakefield area ghost map. This smal churchyard burial ground must be fil ed with angry spirits. Something I would have known if I had a map to navigate away from tragic hot spots and the graves of those who had died a violent death.

“Um, guys, I’m al for the plan idea, but can we get out of here?” I said, lips trembling. “We have company, ghostly company, and they don’t look like the warm and fuzzy type.” The Grays freaked me out. Seeing them gather in numbers, when it wasn’t even Samhain, was not a good sign.

“Hold on,” Simon said.

Cal held my hand as Simon hit the gas. Gravel rained behind us as we hit the pavement and sped away from the church and its creepy residents.

“Thanks,” I said, swal owing air.

“I’m worried,” Cal said, brow furrowing. “Hasn’t there been a lot of spectral activity since your accident?”

“You mean, since my powers expanded or whatever?” I asked, shrugging. “Yeah, I guess so, but I’ve also been hanging out in areas where there are typical y more ghosts.

I usual y avoid hospitals and church graveyards because of al the spirits there. It might just be a coincidence.”

“Or your new, stronger powers may be drawing them to you,” Cal said. “I know you want to give Nera’s amulet back to the Salem witches, but maybe we should wait and see.”

“I guess it’s just one more reason to help as many good spirits as possible,” I said.

I stil wanted to return the amulet to its rightful owners.

The faster I could do that, the better. My recent nightmare about the witches coming to kil al of my friends was an added motivator. I could stil feel their warm blood on my hands. The message of the dream was clear. If I didn’t return the amulet to the Salem witches, there would be repercussions and it would be my fault.

“Cal mentioned your plan to build an army of friendly spirits,” Simon said. “I approve.”

Wow, Simon agreed with me twice in one day. The apocalypse truly was coming.

“So what are we waiting for?” I asked. “Let’s go find a way to help Dylan’s ghost.”

“Where to?” Simon asked.

My phone beeped with an incoming text message from Emma. She was awake and, according to her text, bored out of her mind.

“To Emma’s house,” I said, grinning.

Simon sighed, but a little smile touched his lips.

“You do realize she’s going to bring charges of animal cruelty against that lot for tossing toads at moving vehicles,” Simon said, shaking his head.

“You know her wel ,” I said.

The smel of lavender and honey fil ed the air and wrapped around me like a sweetly scented blanket.

“Yes, I guess I do,” Simon said.

Chapter 15