Nancy K. Duplechain - Dark Trilogy 01 - Dark Bayou (27 page)

“You needed to be pushed to make the choice,” said Ben. Anger was the best way to do it. We still need to stop Walter Savoy. As for Simon, you had to be the one to put his body into the fire.”

“But, why make
me
do it?! Why didn’t you do it years ago?”

“Because you’re Mary’s daughter,” he said, quietly.

“What does that have to do with it?”

“You’re next in line to take on the responsibilities of our ancestors. You needed to be part of the process. Everything we had you do was to help you become a paladin.”

I stared at them all, disgusted. Clothilde couldn’t even look me in the eyes. She stared down at the wooden floor, ashamed. Cee Cee tried to smile sympathetically at me but couldn’t bring herself to do so. “You’re all sick! You’re sick! Is this some twisted initiation?”

“In a way,” said Ben, wearily. “But there’s still work to be done. Savoy
will
come after Lyla, soon. He still aims to cut off your bloodline.”

I jumped up from my seat and scolded each of them. “This is outrageous! You’re screwing with my mind. All of you!” I heard Lucas’ truck pull into the driveway at that moment.

“Don’t tell him anything,” said Cee Cee.

“Don’t you think he has a right to know after everything he’s been through?”

“He can’t know yet. He will soon enough.”

“You’re all nuts!”

Lucas knocked on the door as he opened it. “Leigh?” he said and entered. He stopped short, seeing the look on my face. “What’s wrong? Where are the kids?”

“Upstairs, playing,” said Clothilde.

He turned to me. “What’s the matter?” I stared at Ben, but he was silent. “Leigh?” Lucas pressed.

“Lyla is still in danger,” Ben told him.

Lucas’ face was bitterly angry. “This have something to do with that body we dug up yesterday?”

“I’m afraid so,” said Ben.

“Look, Father, I’ve had enough of this. I’ve had to put up with some pretty damned strange things lately, and I’ve been neglecting my son and the highlight was putting my job in jeopardy to desecrate a grave for what I thought was supposed to help my goddaughter, only to find out I burned the wrong body. Now you tell me that it was all pointless.”

“It wasn’t pointless,” said Ben. “Savoy will come for Lyla.

“When? Where?” I asked him. “You know everything that’s going to happen. Just tell us so we can prevent it!”

“Leigh,” warned Clothilde, letting me know that I was getting out of hand. I ignored her.

“When is it going to happen?” I pressed.

“Soon, but I don’t know when,” said Ben.

“Where is he going to take her?”

“Near water. That’s all I can see.”

“How can you be so sure?” asked Lucas, raising his voice. I was glad he was angry. I was becoming too mentally exhausted to be angry anymore, so I was all too happy to let him take the wheel.

“Because I can see the future,” said Ben, cautiously.

“Well, pardon me, Father, but that sounds like a bunch of bull! If you know the future, then how come we don’t know half of what’s going on? How come we can’t find this guy?”

Ben remained calm. “I can’t see the future of Les Foncés because they have no future. They are just energy. They have no souls. When he was killed, his human form converted to dark energy.”

“‘Les’ what?” asked Lucas.

“We’ll tell you all about that later,” said Cee Cee.

“How do you know Lyla will be around water?” I asked.

Ben carefully chose his words before he said them. “Because I can see her there. I just don’t know exactly where yet.”

I turned to Lucas. “Luke, I’m sorry. It’s all so screwed up! All of it!”

Ben held up his hand to quiet us. “Be very still. He’s coming soon.”

“Who?” asked Lucas.

“Savoy.”

“Where’s Lyla?” I asked, panicked.

“Daddy!” cried Jonathan, running into the living room from the direction of the utility room.

Lucas turned to him, scooping his crying son into his arms. “Where’d you come from? I thought you were upstairs with Lyla.”

“It’s dying!”

“What is, baby?”

“Outside! The bird’s dying! You have to help it, Daddy!”

“What bird?” I asked, alarmed.

“There’s a white bird outside with a hurt wing. It was flapping around on the ground, and then it stopped, and it’s just lying there. You have to help it, Daddy. Please!”

I ran through the utility room and out the back door. I heard Lucas and the rest following me. I swung open the screen door and ran down the steps. I scanned the yard and the garden and there, in the back, by the persimmon trees, was a white dove, lying helplessly on the grass. Lyla’s hands were on it, her eyes closed tight in concentration.

“Lyla!” I yelled, as I started running towards her as fast as I could. “Get away from it! Don’t touch it!” I could see her open her eyes and tilt her head to the side in confusion. At that second, the bird hopped up, spread its wings and flew up over Lyla’s head. She followed it with her eyes, smiling and laughing, delighted that she could save it.

“Lyla, come here!” I heard Lucas yell right behind me. His footsteps were in synch with mine, but I was faster. I wasn’t fast enough, though. Lyla stood up and, at that second, the dove turned into a huge black crow. It spread out its wings behind her.

“Lyla! Run!” I screamed, running through the garden, almost tripping over the watermelon patch.

The crow folded its wings around Lyla, totally engulfing her. It disappeared in a puff of black shadow. It looked like a magic trick: Now you see her, now you don’t. It was the kind of trick Lyla would have delighted at. We were too late. I made it to the persimmon trees just as the last of the shadow wafted up into the darkening sky. “No!” I cried, dropping to the ground, out of breath and in despair. I rolled over on my back, gasping for air and choking back tears. Lucas slid in next to me, holding me.

“Oh, God, Leigh!” he said, holding me.

I could hear Clothilde saying something similar in the background, near the garden. I heard Jonathan crying. I heard my heart beating, threatening to burst through my chest, but not from lack of oxygen, from despair, from losing the most important person in my life, the one I was entrusted to protect. I looked out at Clothilde, Cee Cee and Jonathan. Cee Cee was holding him, trying to console him. Clothilde looked like she would drop from anguish at any second. Ben was perfectly still, his eyes closed in concentration. I was vaguely aware of Lucas saying how sorry he was. My opened eyes were instantly stung by the drizzle that fell into them.

I got up and marched over to Ben. Now everyone followed my gaze and they, too, noticed him. Jonathan was still crying. “Hush, my baby,” soothed Cee Cee, patting his back and rocking him. His sobs quieted down to sniffles. Ben opened his eyes.

“What do you see?” I asked him, my voice hoarse.

“Lyla. She’s there. With him in a cabin with a porch and—”

“A rocking chair,” I said.

He looked at me in disbelief. “Yes.”

“Where’s the cabin?” asked Lucas.

“Lake Martin. West bank.”

I glared at Clothilde. “You told me mom died in the Basin. That was a lie, too. It was Lake Martin.”

“I’m …” she started, trying to say she was sorry, but knew it was useless. “We couldn’t tell you everything just yet. We—”

“Save it! I don’t care right now. I just want to get Lyla back.”

Lucas sprinted towards his truck. I ran after him. “Stay here! It’s too dangerous,” he said to me.

“No way! That’s my niece over there. I’ll be damned if I’m just going to sit here and wait.” I got into his truck just as the others caught up to us.

“We’ll follow y’all,” said Clothilde.

“Absolutely not!” said Lucas. The three of you stay here. Watch Jonathan for me.”

“Daddy!” cried Jonathan from Cee Cee’s arms.

Lucas ran to him, picked him up and kissed him. “I’ll be back. I promise. Okay, sport? Miss Clothilde’s gonna take good care of you till I get back. But I
will
come back. Okay?” Jonathan nodded, still sniffling. Lucas set him down, and Clothilde put her arms around him.

“There’s no way the two of you can do this alone,” said Ben.

“Too dangerous for y’all,” said Lucas.

“It’s more dangerous for you than it is for us,” said Cee Cee.

“We need to perform the ritual just as we did for Simon,” said Ben. “We have to be there.”

Lucas thought it over for a second. He pointed at Cee Cee and Ben. “You two follow us. Miss Clothilde, stay here and watch Jon.” He jumped into the truck with me, put on his silent siren and peeled out of the driveway. As we hit the road, I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Cee Cee’s car a few yards behind us.

We got to Lake Martin about twenty minutes later. Cee Cee did a good job of keeping up with us because they pulled into the lot only a minute or two after we did. When they got down, I noticed Cee Cee now had her Elvis purse slung across her chest, resting at her hip.

“Either of you know how to steer a boat?” Lucas asked them.

“Son, I was raised on the bayou,” replied Ben.

“All right. Y’all follow us, but stay far behind. Try to stay hidden by the trees if you can.” Ben nodded, and we broke up into teams, each taking a small motorboat from Lucas’ rental collection at the dock.

Lucas steered us through the middle of the lake, headed for the west bank. It was easier said than done because, while the middle of Lake Martin was wide open, we had to pass through dense flora and trees with roots that scraped along the bottom of the boat as we headed west.

We moved slowly here, twice having to back up to go around some sizeable roots. One mother alligator snapped at us as we got too close to her nest of eggs. A small flock of egrets flew overhead, looking like a band of phantom birds in the nearing twilight. The Spanish moss swayed eerily in the breeze that brought with it fat rain drops that plopped onto the water, rippling the reflection of the darkening sky.

Ben and Cee Cee followed us closely through most of it, but hung back when we made it through to another clearing. That was when we saw the cabin, far off in a dark corner on the west bank. It was engulfed by shadows, and we could only make out the outline of the dwelling. There was a small light coming from that direction. Lucas signaled for them to stop. Ben killed the motor of his boat. Lucas shut off our motor, and he and I used the paddles to bring us a few yards closer.

It was as I had seen it in my dreams—rustic, long-forgotten by the world, save for whatever occupied its malevolent little frame. And whatever it was was nothing more than a black silhouette in a creaking rocking chair on the tiny porch. As I stared at the phantom rocker, it suddenly stopped in mid rock, picked up its head and turned to me, and it, Walter Savoy, grinned at me and started rocking away, never taking his yellow eyes off of me. And there, in the humid twilight of the swamp, a bitter chill washed over me, and my spine felt like ice.

“You sure that thing isn’t human, right?” Lucas asked me.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

He looked at Savoy, the Dark Man, once more. He nodded, taking his gun from his holster. “Right.” He checked the barrel and cocked it, putting the safety back on. He put his gun back in the holster and Savoy got up from his rocking chair and entered the cabin.

“You ready?” he asked me.

I nodded. “You?” I asked, never taking my eyes off the front door.

He took a deep breath. “Yeah. But I’m not sure what I’m ready for exactly.” He picked up his paddle, and I picked up mine. We rowed the rest of the way to the bank as the last pink on the horizon turned to violet, and the rain slowly picked up.

***

Lucas helped me out of the boat and, together, we pulled it halfway up the bank. He turned once to make sure Cee Cee and Ben were far enough behind. I glanced back and saw that they were well hidden among a thicket of bushes where the bank curved outward.

Lucas pulled out his gun. “Stay behind me,” he said. I nodded. We crept up to the cabin, coming in on the side. From this angle, I noticed that it only had two rooms. There was another building in back, a small one with a little chimney with smoke billowing out.

“What’s that?” I whispered, looking at the building with the chimney.

“Looks like a smokehouse,” he said as he slowly stepped up on the porch of the cabin and peeked into the one window that looked into the kitchen area. I stepped up and glared inside. The light we saw was coming from a lantern on the small table. There was no one in the room. No one we could see, anyway. He walked up a little further and tried the doorknob. It was unlocked and, when he turned it, it opened easily with only a slight creak. He motioned for me to stay back, and he slowly entered the room, gun pointed. He checked behind the door. No one there. He nodded for me to follow.

“Leave it open,” he whispered. I left the door open and followed him in. We stepped forward toward the next room. The kitchen door swung closed behind us with a loud bang, making us both jump. I reached for the door to open it again, but I was stopped by a muffled scream.