Evil Agreement (27 page)

He knew of his own lifelong loyalty to the coven. He recalled
his many sacrifices, the countless risks taken, and his single mindedness of
purpose in hunting down the Powell family over the years. He never asked for
any accolades. He never sought any special treatment. All he expected was a
little respect.

“Damn,” he said as his current burst of anger was subsiding.
Future eruptions were inevitable, but for now he had regained control.

He got out of his car and walked slowly up to the front door
of the motel office. Ed pulled open the aluminum door and stepped into the air
conditioned office. Sitting behind the small counter was Connie
Gibbey
. She was a very large woman who wore muumuus almost
year around. She was wearing one today. It was lime green. She wore a matching
lime green
scrunchy
in her hair. She had three chins.
She was fanning herself with a small bamboo fan. Each finger on her hands was
adorned with a gold colored ring. She also wore too much makeup and too much
perfume. Today was no exception. Her attention was focused upon a small color
television sitting on the end of the counter.

As the aluminum door hissed closed behind Ed, Connie turned
her gaze away from the television just long enough to notice who had entered
her office.

The room was cooled by a large window air conditioner. It was
set on high. The temperature in the room was probably down to sixty-five
degrees.

“Bitching hot, eh Ed?”

“Yeah, bitching,” answered Ed.

Connie
Gibbey
was not a member of
the Church of Everlasting Faith. Indeed she wasn’t a member of any church.

“What you up to these days, Ed?”

“Not much Connie, you know a little of this and a little of
that.”

Connie chuckled at something she noticed on the television.

“Jerry’s my man,” she said.

“Say, Connie I’m sort of in a hurry. I’ve picked up a little
private investigative job, you know, for an insurance company.”

“Ed Townsend, dick for hire,
heh
heh
heh
…” as she launched herself
into a hearty laugh at his expense.

She shook with laughter.

Ed was not amused.

“You sure are something, Connie. Listen, I’m looking for a
fellow I think is staying somewhere in the area. His name is Powell, that’s
Aaron Powell and he is traveling with a young woman, last name of
Cotalano
.”

“Check the register yourself,” said Connie as she put the
register binder on the counter.

He looked at the motel’s register. The last entry was over a
week ago, a man who stayed just one night. Probably a salesman just passing
through. He also might have been scared off by one of Connie’s amorous moods.
She had been known to talk her way into a guest’s room with a bottle of tequila
in hand. Once inside, she would work to get the man drunk. Then she would force
him onto the bed and have her way with him.

Ed folded the register closed and left it on the counter.

“Thanks, Connie,” said Ed as he turned to leave.

“Say, Ed, what’s your hurry? I could fix up a tequila
sunrise. It would take the sting out of this heat wave.”

“No thanks, I’ve got to go.”

She watched the backside of his pants as he stepped through
the doorway.

The aluminum door hissed closed behind him.

Ed felt a wash of heat and humidity once he stepped outside.
The contrast between the cool air inside the motel office and outside was
dramatic. Ed also had felt the predatory stare of Connie on his backside.

In his thoughts, he vowed,
when Moloch and the coven take
over the world, he would personally come back and gut the bitch.

He climbed back into his car and drove it around to the side
of the long row of bungalows, which formed this low budget motel. He was
looking for any sign of a car being hidden in the back.

He noticed nothing but Connie’s beat up Dodge Caravan.

Ed pulled his car around and headed down the road to the next
motel.

***

After putting the old wooden fruit baskets back where she had
taken them, Miss Beacon motioned to Aaron and
Korie
to follow. They carefully walked out of the barn. Miss Beacon reattached the
door lock.

With Miss Beacon leading the way, the three of them headed
off toward the altar.

They moved slowly, stopping frequently to check for signs of
anyone else being in the area.

After a few minutes, they stood on the edge of a large
clearing. They were on the upper hillside to the altar. From where they stood
they could plainly see the stone altar. All three of them searched the nearby
woods for any sign of someone who might be lurking in the darkness, perhaps
someone with a gun.

Satisfied that it appeared safe, Miss Beacon turned to
Korie
and Aaron and said, “We can’t take too long here. We
don’t want to be out in the open for too long.”
  

They both nodded their agreement.

“Okay, let’s make a run for it,” said Miss Beacon as she
headed towards the altar in a sort of half jog.

Aaron and
Korie
ran faster and soon
passed her. They arrived at the altar, stopping short by a good two paces.

Aaron looked at its rough surface.
Korie
knelt down and looked beneath it. In a moment Miss Beacon joined them as she
stood to Aaron’s left.

Aaron’s eyes noticed dark brown stains on the altar’s
surface. Immediately, his mind attributed these stains to human blood. He held
out his hands as if he was pushing against something. Aaron saw that the stains
had turned to fresh puddles of blood. These puddles began to grow until they
eventually began to drip from the altar onto the ground below.

Korie
wasn’t seeing any of what
Aaron was seeing, however, her senses were on high alert. The altar almost felt
alive to her. The air around it felt cold, like the chill one might feel in a
butcher’s meat locker.
Korie
began to rub her chilled
arms.

Miss Beacon watched the two of them out of the corner of her
eye. She kept glancing around in search of any possible threat.

“This is where dozens of people have been slaughtered in the
name of Moloch. Yes, I am sure it’s a devil with the name of Moloch,” said
Aaron.

“That’s the name he uses,” added Miss Beacon.

“Aaron, I don’t feel right. This place scares me. Can we go?”
asked
Korie
.

Aaron looked deeper into the stone surface of the altar. In a
large puddle of blood his mind’s eye was still seeing, he began to see the face
of Moloch forming in the blood. The face rose up out of the blood puddle. Even
Moloch’s horns were plainly visible. The face began to speak to him.

“Aaron, welcome home,” said the small face of Moloch.

“No, never, you bastard,” answered Aaron.

“What is it?” asked
Korie
.

Without waiting for a response Miss Beacon pulled on Aaron’s
arm to take him away from the altar.

Korie
joined in and pulled Aaron’s
other arm. He struggled against their combined efforts.

After a brief struggle, they managed to pull him several feet
away from the altar. This seemed to have a calming effect on him.

Dropping his head, Aaron responded to them.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Let’s go to the cemetery now, and then we can leave,” said
Miss Beacon as she tried to hurry them along.

Korie
was plainly worried for
Aaron. So much was happening so quickly. He was already hurting from the
discovery that his late aunt was really his mother, and now all this.

Will he be strong enough?
she thought.

They arrived at a wrought iron gate to the cemetery. There
were several small, obviously aged headstones sticking out of the ground. Aaron
walked over to the first headstone. He knelt down on the grass in front of the
tombstone.

The inscription read, “Here lies Jacob Powell, Husband and
Father. His Love Of Family Was Only Exceeded By His Love Of God, May He Rest In
Peace, Born, June 2, 1801,
Died, October 31, 1843.”

“How did all these headstones get placed here?” asked
Korie
in a whisper.

“In 1910, Colleen Powell sent two hired men to Sutton. They
were instructed to come here, and set these headstones and install this fence.
They announced their plans in town and even hired a couple local men to help.
The coven members, back then, decided to let them carry out their plan. They
hoped if a Powell wanted so desperately to honor their ancestors, maybe they
might slip up and reveal their whereabouts. When the work was done, the men
hired by Colleen Powell headed back into town and made a sizeable deposit in
the local bank, leaving instructions it was to be used for the care and upkeep
of this place. The night before the men were expected to leave town, the coven
members planned a little party for them. Only when they went to grab them, they
couldn’t find them. They had up and disappeared. Not a trace,” said Miss Beacon
as she smiled.

Aaron had made his way through the cemetery, and was now
kneeling before the tombstone of Sarah Powell. Miss Beacon and
Korie
walked over to Aaron and stood behind him.

The headstone’s inscription read “Sarah Powell, Mother and
Wife. God’s Child, Her Life Served His Will. Born, September 11, 1806, Died October 31, 1843.”

A tear trickled down Aaron’s right cheek.

“I’m here now. I understand. I will do my best. I won’t let
you down. I love you,” he said as he leaned forward and kissed the cold stone.

Aaron stood up and reached out to
Korie
,
who took him into her arms. They stood there for a moment holding each other
tightly.

“Where’s Miss Beacon?” asked Aaron.

Korie
pushed Aaron back. She looked
to her left, and then to her right. Next, she spun completely around.

“She was right here. She was standing right next to us just a
moment ago,” said
Korie
.

“Well, she’s probably waiting for us near the edge of the
clearing. We’d better get going,” said Aaron.

The two left the cemetery holding hands. Aaron closed and
latched the gate. They headed back towards the clearing.

Suddenly,
Korie
put her hand up to
Aaron, signaling to him to stop and listen.

There were voices up ahead.

One of the voices was clearly Miss Beacon’s.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing young man, but you
had better put that gun down. Do you hear me?” demanded Miss Beacon in a loud
voice.

Korie
and Aaron crept closer to the
edge of the woods, and could plainly see what was taking place in the middle of
the clearing. There was a young man, no more than thirteen years old, pointing
a rifle at Miss Beacon. The two were standing approximately twenty feet apart.

 
“I can’t. Now just
shut up, will ya? I know who you are and you’re an interloper. I’ve been told
to keep an eye out for your kind.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about. When I speak to
your mother and father, I’m sure they will severely punish you for this little
episode.”

He laughed.

“You don’t get it, do you? I’m going to kill you. I’m going
to become famous like Samuel.”

While the two were at a standoff, Aaron led
Korie
along the edge of the woods. He wanted to get as
close to the backside of the young boy as possible.

“Kill me, oh dear. Why kill me? What have I done?” she
pleaded, as she began to cry.

“Just shut up.”

Miss Beacon put her hands to her face and began to sob
heavily.

“Damn you,” he said as he cocked the gun. It made an audible
click
as the hammer was poised to slam into the loaded chamber of his 30-30
caliber rifle.

Aaron quickly looked around for a weapon of some kind.
Korie
handed him a piece of hardwood that was lying at her
feet. It was about four feet long. The diameter was similar to the thick end of
a baseball bat.

Seizing the piece of wood, Aaron broke from cover and
sprinted the forty feet through the worn grass towards the backside of the
young boy. He raised the piece of wood and swung it with all of his might.

Just an instant before the wood hit the side of his head; the
young boy sensed someone or something behind him coming in his direction. In
that briefest of moments, he began to turn his head, but in doing so his finger
jerked against the gun’s hair trigger and the gun went off.

The piece of wood wielded by Aaron struck the boy’s head with
such force that it broke in two. The boy’s head rocked violently to the left
from the force of the hit. Blood exploded from the side of his face as his now
lifeless body collapsed to the ground. The rifle, which had just discharged
fell away.

Korie
ran from the woods into the
clearing.

Miss Beacon was lying on the ground.

25

Ed Townsend met up with Walter, Ed Foley and Chucky at the
Town Common. The others had parked their cars in the shade of a hundred year
old maple tree that stood at one end of the park. There was a soft breeze
passing through the Common, which took the edge off the high humidity.

This summer heat wave had lasted longer than anyone could
remember. Local meteorologists were blaming it on the lingering effects of last
winter’s El Nino. A cold front, descending from Canada
in the nearby north, was expected to pass through the area later in the day.
Severe thunderstorms were predicted and would be welcomed by most, since it
would signal the end to this heat wave. Several days of clear, dry and cooler
weather was expected to follow.

Ed stepped out of his car and strolled slowly over to the
park bench that Ed Foley and Chuck
Trainor
were lounging
on. Walter was standing near the end of the bench, with one foot up on the
bench. He was leaning over with his arms folded, and resting on his knee. The
guy’s saw Ed Townsend coming. No one made a move to acknowledge his arrival.
These guys tolerated Ed Townsend, but none of them considered him a friend.

“Walter, Ed, Chuck, any luck?” asked Ed.

“Do we look like we have anything to report?” responded
Walter, as he flicked away a tiny piece of tree bark that had fallen on his
knee.

Pulling his soiled baseball cap off, Chuck
Trainor
ran his fingers through his sweat soaked hair.

“We looked everywhere,” said Chuck.

“Looks like you didn’t do any better,” said Walter.

“I’m not done yet. I still have a couple of motels on the
north end to check out,” said Ed.

“It don’t look good, Ed. What are we
gonna
do now?” asked Ed Foley as he stood up from the bench and stretched his lower
back.

“We look again is what we do. If the two of them are moving
around, we might have just missed them,” answered Ed.

“Say, Ed, maybe they’re camping out somewhere. There are
plenty of empty deer camps they could be hiding in,” said Walter.

“You’re right,” said Ed. “Walter, I want you to round up a
dozen or so church members. Send them out to all the campsites we know of. Tell
them to be real careful not to spook Powell, and the woman. All we want is to
locate them for now.”

Chuck spoke up and said, “What about us?”

“You guys keep checking stores, restaurants, businesses, that
sort of thing. We’ll meet back here at
5 o’clock
.
Let’s go.”

Walter took off immediately. His new assignment invigorated
him. Ed Foley and Chucky were less enthusiastic.

“Samuel sure ripped into you this morning. It must have
pissed you off,” said
Trainor
.

Ed Townsend refused to react. Instead, he turned away, and
headed to his car.

Deep inside, Ed Townsend was seething with anger. He climbed
into his car and drove away at a normal speed. The only sign of a reaction was
his hands, which were gripping his steering wheel with such force, his knuckles
were turning white.

“Why did you go and say that for? Are you trying to start
something?” demanded Ed Foley.

“I was just trying to get a rise out of him. You know how
he’s such a tight ass, never showing any emotion.”

“Yeah, well I don’t particularly care for him myself, but
that don’t give us the right to insult the man. Without him, I don’t think we’d
be as close as we are to Powell.”

“Shit Ed, you’re becoming a tight ass, too,” said Chuck as he
strolled towards his car.

“You’d better not cross him Chuck, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you.”

The two coven members each drove away in their respective
vehicles. Neither had any expectations they would catch the proverbial brass
ring, and find Powell. Nevertheless, they dutifully resumed their search.

***

The smell of spent gunpowder lingered in the air.

Korie
ran up to Aaron. She turned
him away from the sight of the dead boy and Miss Beacon. Aaron dropped the
piece of blood stained wood he had been holding.
Korie
held him tightly. Her eyes were welling up with tears, but she held them back.
She wanted to be strong for Aaron.

Aaron was surprised by his own reaction. He felt neither
remorse nor guilt. He was busily taking inventory of his senses.

“Well, are either of you going to help me up?” asked Miss
Beacon.

Aaron and
Korie
both turned and
looked at Miss Beacon who was now sitting up.

The look on their faces clearly conveyed their shock. Both
had assumed that the boy had killed her.

“You’re okay?” said an excited
Korie
.

“Of course,” said Miss Beacon as she reached up for a hand
from
Korie
and Aaron. They each took a hand and
pulled her to her feet. She brushed off her dress.

“I can’t believe he missed,” said Aaron.

“Well, he put a nice hole in my dress. Will that do?”
answered Miss Beacon.

She pointed to a hole that was located about five inches down
from her left shoulder.
Korie
stepped to the side and
looked at the back of Miss Beacon’s dress, and there was another hole located
about three inches from the top of her left shoulder. There was no sign of
blood anywhere.

“But that hole, there’s...no blood,” said
Korie
.

“I’m an Angel, or have you forgotten?”

“Amazing,” said
Korie
.

“We can’t stand here all day discussing this. We’ve got to
go,” said Miss Beacon.

“But what about the boy’s body?” asked Aaron.

“What do you want to do with it?” asked Miss Beacon as she
furrowed her eyebrows.

“I’m not sure, I uh...I want.”

“What?” asked
Korie

Suddenly, without warning, Aaron bent down and picked up the
limp body of the dead boy. Carrying him, Aaron headed towards the altar. He
placed the boy on the altar, and then ran back to where the two women stood. He
picked up the pieces of wood that had once been his weapon of necessity, and
raced back to the altar.
Korie
and Miss Beacon followed
him to the altar.

Aaron used the two pieces of wood to form a crude cross,
which he placed across the boy’s chest. Aaron folded the boy’s arms over the
cross shape.

“Interesting,” said Miss Beacon.

“We can go now,” said Aaron.

At that very moment, a loud crackling sound was heard at the
same instant a bright blinding flash was seen directly across the clearing. It
was a bolt of lightning. It had struck a tree next to the cemetery. The top
half of the tree exploded. Directly overhead, a solo, dark, menacing summer
storm cloud hovered less than five hundred feet over the mountain top. An
earth-shaking rumble of thunder pounded the ground.

All three took off and raced back to the Land Rover. A heavy
stinging rain started to fall soon after the initial lightning strike. They
were drenched to the skin by the time they reached the Land Rover.

They climbed inside of the vehicle and Miss Beacon wasted no
time starting the engine.

“Aaron.” said Miss Beacon.

“Yes.”

“Killing that boy back there was righteous. I want you to
know that.”

“Thanks.”

Korie
was still somewhat out of
breath, when she asked “Why did you put the boy on that altar like that?”

“Because I want them to know I was there,” said Aaron.

“Oh, they know Aaron, believe me they know,” said Miss
Beacon, as she put the Rover in gear and began to inch her way back down the
mountain.

The ride down the mountain was bumpy and dangerous. Miss
Beacon seemed bent on taking the most direct route possible, regardless of how
dense the forest, or how steep the slope. Several times it seemed the vehicle
would tip over while Miss Beacon fought with the steering wheel to keep the
Land Rover upright. Finally, they drove through some thick brush and into a
small clearing. They were next to a small abandoned orchard.
Zigging
and
zagging
, Miss Beacon
managed to drive through the orchard, and at the opposite end she located a
dirt road. Moments later, they were back on a paved road heading to Miss
Beacon’s place.

“I think you ought to climb back under that blanket back
there. We don’t want you discovered quite yet,” said Miss Beacon.

Aaron and
Korie
did as she
requested. It was stifling hot under the blanket. The windows were rolled down,
which did allow some movement of air, tempering the oppressive heat.

Miss Beacon pulled the Land Rover into her driveway. She
wheeled it around back, hitting the brakes a bit hard as the vehicle lurched to
a stop.

“Stay down. Someone’s coming. Don’t move a muscle,” commanded
Miss Beacon.

Aaron and
Korie
heard the front
seat creak as Miss Beacon climbed out. The next sound they heard was the
slamming of the driver’s side door.

There was a pause, and then they heard the crunching sound of
another vehicle’s tires rolling in their direction. That vehicle came to a stop
and the driver turned off the car engine. A car door opened and closed.

“Good afternoon, Miss Beacon,” said an obviously male voice.

“Well if it isn’t Ed ‘Mr. FBI’ Townsend,” said Miss Beacon
with a slight chuckle in her voice.

“It sure is a hot one,” said Ed.
 

“Now that is stating the obvious.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“So, what brings you to Mother Nature’s? It sure can’t be for
small talk about the weather.”

“No, no, you’re right. Let me get right to it. I’m doing a
little job for an insurance company trying to track down a
fella
they think is in the area. I was wondering, have you had any overnight guests
in the past couple of days?”

“Now Ed, you know what it is like this time of year around
here. My last overnighter was, let me think...oh...it must have been close to
Memorial Day weekend.”

“I see. Well, maybe someone might have stopped in to your
store or stopped to ask for directions. This fellow is also traveling with a
young woman; I believe they’re from Massachusetts.”

“What do they look like? Do you have a photo or something I
could look at?’

“No. . . I don’t have a photo, but I can give you a general
description.”

While Ed provided a description, Aaron and
Korie
were struggling with the challenge of remaining still
and quiet in the rear of the Land Rover. Now that the Rover wasn’t moving,
there was no fresh air swirling around inside. The Rover was parked in the sun,
and even with the windows down, the heat was rapidly building up inside. Under
the blanket it was worse. The musty smell of the blanket was almost
overpowering. Beads of sweat rolled across every inch of their cramping bodies.

“Well, from what you describe, I can safely say that I don’t
believe I’ve seen anyone fitting that description.”

“Really,” said Ed with a touch of disbelief in his voice. He
was looking down at the tires of Miss Beacon’s vehicle, and the heavily soiled
wheel well. Clumps of grass and a thick crust of dirt covered the lower half of
her vehicle.

“Been out driving in the woods, have we?” asked Ed.

“Why, Ed, you are the inquisitive one. As a matter of fact I
have. I drove up to my secret blackberry patch to pick a few quarts. I’m going
to make some of my very special preserves with them. My winter guests really
like having homemade preserves at their breakfast table. I even sell some on
the side. You know, a little extra always comes in handy.”

“Yeah, I understand,” said Ed who still seemed curious about
the soiled condition of her Rover.

“Would you be so kind as to give me a hand with the berries?
I might manage to find a jar of last year’s preserves for you.”

“Sure.”

Underneath the blanket, Aaron and
Korie
wondered what she was up to. Neither had seen any berries in the back of the
vehicle. They both kept perfectly still as they heard the opening sound of the
rear door latch. They were now drenched in sweat.

“Here they are. Now you take that large basket right there.
Yes, that one. I’ll take these two smaller ones. Good.”

Somehow he didn’t notice the two shapes beneath the old
blanket.

Aaron and
Korie
felt the rear door
slam shut and heard the sound of feet walking down the gravel driveway.

“What do we do now?” asked
Korie
.

“Where did those berries come from?” asked Aaron.

“Who cares? I’m about to pass out from heat exhaustion
here.”
 

“Okay. Wait a second,” said Aaron as he slowly pulled the
blanket off his head. He carefully raised his head up and looked out the side
window. He could see the back door to Miss Beacon’s store swing close.

“Can’t we get out of here while she has him distracted?”
pleaded
Korie
.

“I don’t know. Maybe we shouldn’t take a chance. Oh, shit,
they’re coming back,” said Aaron as he ducked down under the blanket.

“Thanks again for the preserves.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Listen, if you . . .”

“I know, if I see these two young people I’m to give you a
call.”

“That’s right!”

“Oh, I’ll be sure to let you know. I can tell you’re anxious
to locate these people. I have a feeling they’ll turn up before you know it.
After all, Sutton is a small town.”

“Small towns still have plenty of hiding places.”

“And I bet that ‘Mr. FBI’ knows where all the hiding places
are in Sutton.”

“Maybe I do,” said Ed with a slight smirk.