Crone's Moon: A Rowan Gant Investigation (40 page)

“Maybe I’ll hear something.”

“Jeez, Mandalay, that’s stretchin’ it. If
you…”

Ben’s sentence was interrupted by Felicity as
she suddenly let out a sharp yelp. We all turned quickly to see her
tensing as she gritted her teeth. However, before any of us could
say a word, there came a startling pair of sharp raps on the
driver-side window.

A
pparently, the hiatus was
over.

Felicity groaned as she entered into a new
round of ethereal torture. For the moment, it seemed no worse than
it had when we first began this expedition, which at least made it
tolerable. However, I suspected it wouldn’t stay that way for long,
and that was not something I was willing to let happen. I simply
wasn’t going to sit by and watch her suffer through this again,
especially when we were this close.

Ben twisted his body back around and began
cranking down the window. A fresh gust of cool night air swept
inward, this time bringing with it the distinct smell of a burning
cigar riding along the chill.

There was a brief spate of silence, and in
that moment, the van filled with a disturbing unrest. The feeling
struck me hard, actually competing with Felicity for my
attention.

“Are you folks okay,” a husky voice finally
asked. The timbre sounded odd and not quite identifiable in gender.
I immediately flashed on Kimberly’s reference to ‘the dyke’ and
wondered if one of her tormentor’s was standing only a few feet
away at this very moment.

I tried to see around my friend, but in the
darkness, caught only the orange end of the cigar as it glowed
briefly then disappeared from view. I felt a stab of pain in my
cheek and knew immediately that my fleeting thought was
confirmed.

“Yeah,” Ben replied with a quick nod. “We’re
fine.”

There was a barely perceptible but very
distinct change in my friend’s mood as soon as he began talking to
the person. It wasn’t something I could audibly detect in his
voice, but I could definitely feel it emanating from him. It would
probably have gone unnoticed but for the chaotic energy coming from
outside the window. All of my senses were triggering— both natural
and supernatural.

The voice came again, “Heard you skidding all
the way back up at the house.”

“Yeah. Saw somethin’ in the road and
swerved.”

“Probably a dog. We get a few strays around
here. Lucky all you did was skid. Could have been worse.”

“Yeah,” Ben agreed. “Lucky.”

“Do you need a hand?” the voice asked with a
tone that sounded more annoyed than concerned.

“Nah,” Ben replied, shaking his head. “I
think we’ve got it under control.”

“Are you sure? You’ve been sitting here for a
while,” the voice observed.

“Yeah, I know…”

Ben was interrupted as Felicity let out
another sudden yelp. This time it morphed into a quiet but
prolonged whine. I looked back at her and saw that she was leaning
forward in the seat with her arms crossed.

“She okay?” Ben instantly called back to me,
voice flat.

This time his tone was an obvious cue. I
wasn’t sure what to say, so I simply replied with, “Yeah. She’s
fine.”

“Good” came his equally emotionless
reply.

“What was that?” the voice asked.

“A friend,” he said. “She wasn’t wearin’ her
seatbelt, so she got knocked around a bit.”

“She doesn’t sound good.”

“She’ll be fine.”

There was a tense silence for a moment, and
then the voice spoke again, “Sure you don’t need a hand?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Okay then.” There was another pause before I
heard the less than sincere words “Be careful.”

“Thanks.”

I heard footsteps as the owner of the
genderless voice began walking away. Ben was already cranking the
window upward and had his head cocked so that he could watch the
side-view mirror. I leaned farther forward and tried to see what he
was looking at.

He held out his hand to Mandalay and made a
quick gesture then glanced over to her and whispered, “You clear
over there?”

Constance shot a glance out her window then
shook her head and returned quietly. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Shit!” he muttered.

“What’s going on?” I asked, dropping my voice
to a whisper as well.

“I’m pretty sure she’s the one on the
surveillance tape,” he said as he continued watching the mirrors,
then after a moment, he levered the van into reverse and gunned the
engine.

There was a momentary hesitation as the tires
spun then took hold. The vehicle gave a slight buck and then jumped
backward, rocking with a creak and groan as it rolled back up onto
the highway.

“Nooooo!” Felicity whined, and then asked in
a pained voice. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Gotta move,” my friend announced.

My wife continued pleading, “But,
Kimberly…”

“…
Is in there. I know,” Ben hissed,
cutting her off. He kept the van slowly rolling backward then came
to a stop. “Mandalay, can you see ‘er?”

“Not really… Wait… Yeah, there she is. About
twenty feet up the driveway. She just looked back. Okay, now she’s
moving again.”

“Can you see if she’s armed?”

“…
Something on her belt… Could be a
cell phone… Not sure.”

“You call it. Whaddaya wanna do?” he asked
quickly.

“It’s not good,” she replied, shaking her
head again. “Go around and we’ll call for backup.”

“No!” Felicity demanded. Her voice was still
holding a pained edge but had grown far beyond a whimper.

“Not with you and Rowan in the van!” Ben
hissed. “It’s too dangerous!”

“Nooooo!” Felicity cried out again, but this
time she was moving.

I felt a hard thump as she swivel-hipped out
of the seat, striking purposely against my back and driving me off
balance. I pitched forward and fell between the front seats and
into the center console. A split second later I felt her sneakered
feet stumbling over the backs of my legs.

Ben suddenly exclaimed, “Goddammit, Felicity!
NO!”

But he was too late. The next thing I heard
was the grating sound of the van’s side door as it began to quickly
slide. I twisted to grab for my wife, but she was too far out of my
reach. The door continued moving by sheer momentum, as she shot
through the second she could fit. It locked back in the open
position with an angry thump that I could barely hear over
Felicity’s impromptu war cry.

“TÚ SAIGH!”
My
wife spewed forth a hateful sounding line of Gaelic.
“
Umarlaid! Nach bu tù an t-urra
isg!”

Constance immediately kicked her door wide
and bolted from the van in pursuit of the red-haired banshee. I was
just pushing myself back up from the console as Ben levered the van
into park, yelling back to me, “Stay here!”

He jumped out of his own door, and I heard
the commotion grow outside.

“STOP! Federal Officer!” Constance was
screaming.

“POLICE!” Ben bellowed behind her.

Their official demands were underscored
by Felicity as she continued to wail,
“Tù
saigh! Teasd!”

This time I recognized all three of the
Gaelic words, ‘you’, ‘bitch’, and ‘die’.

I scrambled toward the open side door and
rolled out onto the pavement, pushing myself up and forward the
moment my feet hit the asphalt. I knew I should follow Ben’s
instruction and stay with the vehicle, but I couldn’t keep my legs
from driving me along behind them.

The odd angle of the van at the mouth of the
driveway allowed at least some of the light from the headlamps to
project up the gravel expanse. In the furthest reaches of the
diminishing luminance, I saw a tangle of fiery auburn curls flash
as my wife literally tackled the woman.

The suspect had had enough time to turn and
see the screaming redhead running at her, especially since stealth
had been a non-issue for Felicity. Still, even though she took a
hard swing at her, my wife was short enough to duck it as she came
in low and drove the woman to the ground, tumbling to the gravel
with her.

Felicity was still shrieking, her voice a
hoarse blend of unintelligible epithets and unearthly tortured
sounds. She had landed on top, but the larger woman was fighting
back immediately. She already had a handful of my wife’s hair and
was yanking her head back hard as she struggled to get away.
Felicity responded by releasing her grip around the suspect’s waist
and flailing her arms out, impacting the heel of her fist hard
against the woman’s chin.

Ben and Constance were rapidly approaching
them, with me bringing up the rear. I wanted desperately to jump
into the fray and rescue Felicity, but logically, I knew that was
the last thing I should do. I simply remained out of the way behind
my two gun-wielding friends and fought to keep myself from
responding to the gut reflex that was demanding I take action.

The woman was stunned by Felicity’s blow but
still managed to swing her own fist, glancing her knuckles against
my wife’s upper cheek. Felicity’s head snapped, and she fell back.
She was no longer on top of the woman, but she remained undeterred
by the punch. She continued scrambling about and flailing her fists
as the woman pulled her by the auburn mane.

My wife twisted, pulling up to her knees and
forcing her shoulder up from beneath. With a quick lunge, she fell
forward and drove her elbow hard into the woman’s side as she was
rolling toward her and trying to gain footing.

Before any more blows could be thrown, Ben
and Constance were upon them, weapons drawn.

“POLICE! STAY DOWN!” my friend bellowed.

The woman rolled back and held her free hand
out in plain view. Felicity continued to punch, and the suspect
threw her arm back up to protect herself from the unbridled attack.
Mandalay took up a cover stance, and Ben quickly holstered his
weapon then skirted around to pull Felicity off the woman.

I watched as he wrapped a large hand around
the suspect’s wrist and bent it back, breaking her grip on my
wife’s hair. My friend immediately took Felicity by the arms and
started pulling her up. The woman tried to take a last swing at
her, and Constance moved in closer, screaming, “STOP!”

My wife wasn’t listening either.

She was still screaming at the top of her
lungs, spewing Gaelic curses, mixed with colloquial Irish, and even
a spate of English profanities. Ben was yelling at her to calm down
as she struggled, still trying to swing. He managed to get her up
to her feet, but before he could back away, Felicity bucked, using
him for leverage as she kicked her leg out and brought the back of
her sneaker hard into the prone woman’s chest.

She was already swinging her other leg
around, taking a second kick and aiming for the suspects face when
my friend wrapped her in a bear hug and jerked her away. My wife
continued twisting in his arms, kicking her legs against him and
screaming as he carried her to the side.

Seeing that Ben had Felicity somewhat
under control, Constance immediately stepped in between
them,
Sig Sauer
stiffly aimed
at the suspect on the ground.

“On your stomach! Nose to the ground!”
Mandalay yelled to be heard over the continuing commotion. “NOW!
Let’s go!”

The woman was still trying to catch her
breath after the kick Felicity had landed into her chest. Still,
she did as she was told, rolling slowly over.

“Extend your arms to your sides, palms
upward,” Constance directed.

I took a moment to look off to the side.
Felicity was face down on the grass herself. She was still
screaming, but her curses were now directed at Ben as he held her
down and applied handcuffs to her dainty wrists.

The scene was surreal. The darkness
surrounded us, with only the distant light of the van’s headlamps
casting any illumination whatsoever. Wherever their dimness fell,
oblique shadows were moving in angry, stilted motions. There was
something very disconcerting about the whole thing, and I knew
there was more to it than just what I could see in the physical
plane. As I stared at the tableau, I began to get a very bad
feeling.

I shook off the sensation and started toward
my wife. I could hear Constance behind me, barking orders to the
suspect. “Spread your legs, toes pointed out.”

Ben had finished restraining Felicity, and he
turned away from her, stepping past me without even acknowledging
my presence. He now had his weapon back in hand and stiffly aimed
forward at the suspect.

I glanced over at them and saw him give
Constance a quick nod. She re-holstered her weapon and then quickly
reached beneath her jacket and produced a pair of handcuffs. She
moved in swiftly, lowering herself down and placing her knee in the
suspect’s upper back.

“Left hand in the small of your back, palm
down,” she ordered. “Now.”

The suspect complied, and in a deft motion,
Mandalay slapped the metal restraint around the woman’s wrist.

I turned and kept stumbling toward my wife
who had ceased her screaming but was still cursing at Ben in at
least one language. Without warning, she suddenly stopped and
turned her face toward me. I was still a few steps away, but I
halted dead in my tracks as our gazes locked. There was no
mistaking the intensity of the fear I saw in her face, and a second
later I heard the rushing buzz of electricity in my ears. She
didn’t have to say a word for me to know that she was hearing it
too.

The hair on the back of my neck began to rise
and was followed by the follicles along my arms rotating upward as
well.

I started toward Felicity but then hesitated.
Something unseen drew my eyes away, and I looked up at the lights
of the house farther up the gravel driveway. Behind the ethereal
crackle there was another sound. Muffled, but distinctly there. It
had most likely been there the entire time but had remained
unnoticed in all the commotion. I concentrated, listening as hard
as I could and realized that it was a small gasoline engine droning
along.