Authors: Katherine Whitley
However, why was it parked here? This was not a cemetery that people visited, as a rule, which was why he had looked at the old man curiously when he claimed that this was his destination. It was old and out of the way, the only recent interments had been the remains of those with no family, the unclaimed deceased given free eternal napping privileges here by the state.
Something just wasn’t right.
Nick moved with purpose now, as a small mystery began to unfold. The old man walked silently beside him. As he came around a dense area of trees and rock, he spied something that was truly disturbing to him.
There was no doubt about it. It was Will’s truck. Complete with front-end damage from its hostile introduction into the side of a Nissan Sentra earlier in the day.
Focused on the truck, Nick stalked carefully now, eyes never leaving the vehicle. Was there someone inside? He thought he saw movement, but wasn’t sure. As he crossed the open area towards the truck, he was just reaching to pull his weapon, when Nick heard the shrill voice of the woman he had been so worried about earlier.
“Hold it right there!” came the rough command.
He looked up to see her standing some twenty yards away, toward the back of the cemetery, expertly pointing a small silver handgun directly at him. Nick froze, his eyes darting worriedly to the old man just behind him.
“You need to get out of here!” Nick spoke out of the side of his mouth. Perhaps he had not yet been seen. The old man simply shook his head, calmly. Nick briefly wondered if the old man was crazy. He seemed to have no sense of self-preservation.
“I’m talking to you, cop!” The unpleasantly nasal voice of the woman jarred him as she moved closer. “You have wandered, uninvited, into the middle of a federal investigation. I am advising you to leave.”
“Now!” she barked, angrily.
Nick was defiant. “How do I know that? You got some ID?”
Who did this broad think she was, pulling a gun on him at the drop of a hat? What the hell did they teach these Feds, anyway?
Cassandra fished in her pocketbook, held across her chest by the long straps, the weapon never wavering. She drew out a leather case and flipped it open. Nick stepped forward to see.
“Easy!” she warned. “Take slow steps, and keep your hands where I can see them.”
“What is your problem, lady? If you’re a federal agent, why are you treating me like some kind of enemy combatant, for Christ’s sake?”
“Because the case I am working is complicated, and it’s not necessarily so easy to tell the good guys from the bad, alright?” This caused the woman to release a small snort of amusement for reasons Nick could not fathom.
“So then, what’s going on?” he demanded. Cassandra swiveled just a fraction of a degree. “Who’s your friend, here?” She gestured with the weapon toward the old man.
“He’s a civilian. He was coming here to the cemetery to visit a grave, I guess. He just happened to walk in with me, okay? Let him go!” Cassandra’s mouth hardened.
“Get over here, gramps!” She motioned with the gun for the man to step forward with Nick. She was furious. Where in the hell was Shawn? And why, of all people, did a
cop
have to show up. And toting along some old geezer, for good measure.
She ground her teeth.
“
What
is going on?” Nick repeated, angry as well at being held at gunpoint, and at the careless endangerment of an innocent bystander. He was so going to file a complaint about this lady, as soon as he got back to the station.
Cassandra was thoughtful for a moment before she spoke.
“This is your lucky day, officer. I am going to ask you to turn around and trot on outta here, and you can just carry on with your little safety patrol. This little meeting never happened, alright?”
At the same time the woman spoke these words, Nick looked past her, and saw two very young children sitting huddled together on a log, obviously terrified.
Cassandra followed his gaze, and shouted at him. “Get out of here now!” Nick glared at her.
Walk
away
and
leave
this
nut
with
those
little
kids?
That was a big negative.
“You hold on a second . . . What are you doing with those kids? They don’t seem real happy to be here, lady!” He took another step forward.
Without preamble, Cassandra fired her weapon, hitting Nick in the left shoulder. Nick gasped in shock, and dropped to one knee.
“Jesus Christ,” he yelped in pain. “Are you crazy?” He looked around for the old man. Nick’s main concern now was to find a way for him to escape.
The man was looking back at Cassandra with no shock evident in his expression.
Just a very odd mixture of disappointment and displeasure. The woman was eyeing Nick coldly, now.
“Okay, have it your way . . .
officer!”
She sneered the word.
“Just what the hell kind of agent are you supposed to be?” Nick was cradling his left arm, nursing the shoulder that was now bleeding profusely.
“A very successful one,” was her response. “Get up! You help him,” she ordered the older man.
Nick tried to wave away the old man’s assistance, but he found himself gripped firmly under the uninjured arm and lifted to his feet, almost with no effort at all on his part.
Nick looked him in the eye, and then looked away. This man was too strong. It wasn’t . . . right, somehow.
He had no time to explore this fact, as he was ordered to walk forward with the stranger at his side. Cassandra unsnapped Nick’s holster, and removed his weapon.
“You got anything else on you?” she asked with a jab to Nick’s shoulder with the end of her pistol. He winced with pain, but did not make a sound.
Oh
hell
no. No way was she gonna make him voice his pain. He shook his head, teeth gritted. This was Vermont. He didn’t exactly feel the need to pack an arsenal of heat to go on routine traffic patrol.
“Okay, Hero, now you can come join our little party! And how nice of you to bring a friend along, too. He will be so grateful that you did, when this is all over!” Nick stared at the woman. He was feeling quite sure that he had never met such a bitch in his entire career. And that was saying something. She seemed to take an obscene amount of pleasure in what she was doing.
He began walking in the direction that she’d indicated, unenthusiastically. Something told him that unless he came up with something really clever, this was not going to end well for any of them.
Those
poor
kids.
He could see the misery in their faces as he approached. Another cold thought hit him now.
Where
was
Will?
* * *
Shawn watched, sickened, as he observed his simple plan spinning wildly out of control, highjacked by the crazy woman in the clearing. They were supposed to just pick up the kids, go to a quiet location, then contact the other two Members, and let them exchange themselves for the kids.
Simple.
The idea of bringing them all in had been there, yes, but even so, they would have merely snatched them all up when the grown ones came to make the exchange.
Again, easy.
Involving that woman had proven to be a very grave mistake, but he had no idea that she was this far gone. He knew that he didn’t like her, and that she was ruthless, but now, it was clear that Cassandra was quite violence—oriented. What did that guy call her, “
non-compos
mentis
”? Hell, yeah she was.
Pulling back, Shawn leaned heavily against the large granite headstone that was currently giving him cover, and banged his head, none too gently, against it. He shut his eyes and tried to decide how much more wrong this little fiasco could go.
“You crazy, crazy bitch! Shooting the cop, well that’s just great, Lockhart . . . brilliant!” He was ill with disbelief.
It was one thing to shoot up people when you had no choice, or if it is imperative to the mission, but she just . . .
did
it
. He was beginning to feel that Cassandra must have already decided to leave no witnesses, and so she wasn’t concerned with any repercussions for her wildly careless actions now. In addition, some poor old guy, coming to visit his grandma or whomever he knew that was buried in this creepy old place. He certainly did not deserve to die for this, but it was pretty clear that this was her plan.
From his vantage point, he could just see the Society Member guy, what was he calling himself . . . Jackson? He hadn’t made it to the truck when the cop showed up. Jackson was backed up against a large tree, and Baker could easily see his expression. It looked identical to the one Shawn wore, which conveyed near madness from his despair.
Shawn thought furiously, and decided that he needed to do . . .
something
.
He couldn’t just sit here and watch any longer, or he was going to start punching the granite in front of him, just to vent some frustration, and draw a little blood.
Maybe he should just step out from behind his cover of stone, and simply stroll out into the clearing. He didn’t know what he would say to Cassandra about his sudden disappearance, or reappearance for that matter.
Maybe
I
could
just
yell,
‘Surprise’!
he though desperately. Tell her he had decided that an impromptu game of Hide and Seek was in order? He didn’t know.
As he firmed up the decision to walk into the clearing, a movement to his right caught his attention. Jackson had pointed straight at him, and was shaking his head vehemently.
Oh
yeah?
Shawn thought, caustically.
Well
,
what
are
YOU
doing,
powerful
creature
that
you’re
supposed
to
be?
I’ll
tell
you
what
. . .
NOTHING!
He saw the look of frustration on the Society being’s face, as he again gestured, almost frantically, for Shawn to stay put.
With a sigh, Shawn decided to listen to him.
Maybe
he
knows
something
I
don’t
, he decided. Who knew? Maybe he could see the future, and knew that it would be counter-productive for him to rejoin the group in the clearing.
But it was maddening. The kids were less than maybe five feet away from where he had stealthily moved. If he had Jackson’s speed and strength, he probably could have reached out, snatched them up, and run away though the woods.
But Shawn had no gifts to use in order to save the children, did he? Therefore, he remained on his unwilling standby status for now, and waited.
* * *
Cassandra forced Nick and the old man to join the children on the log. The older gentleman moved gracefully through the brush, and sat next to Jake. Nick took the opposite side next to Cassidy, and perched himself precariously on the edge, pushing back the brush that extended over the log, scratching against his side and back.
Cassandra eyed them all with disdain.
“Well well well, what a motley crew we have here, huh? Bet you’re glad you decided to choose this day to make a visit to the graveyard, aren’t you, Grandpa?” The man did not respond, simply continuing to regard her with distaste. Her lips twitched into a snarl. She did not like being ignored.
Nick spoke hastily, to try to distract her. “Why can’t you let these kids, go? They can’t be part of your ‘investigation’, can they? I mean, someone is going to have heard that gunshot lady, and probably call the cops. Don’t you want to stop all this now, before something really bad happens?”
“Why don’t you, shut your mouth, copper,” she returned, hostilely. “Haven’t you learned what happens when people stick their noses where they don’t belong?”
Nick was disgusted. Copper? What the Hell? Had this woman actually called him ‘copper’? What, was she channeling Al Capone, now?
But she looked worried, and began looking around, trying once more to find Shawn. She wanted to scream her frustration. The shadow that had been tormenting her had been still for the last several minutes, but now, she not only saw the darting of something dark and slinking shoot around the perimeter of her vision, but she could hear the sound of it trampling the grass and weeds.