Chapter Fifty Seven
I unshielded my eyes when the brightness waned, took a tentative peek at where Devil had been. He was there no more. It was dark and absolutely quiet. The weather was changing. Fog was rolling in heavier, in pockets with gaps between them. I scanned the area around me. No sign of anyone. I placed my nine millimeter in its holster on my belt. “Yo, hun,” I said. “Can you hear me? Norrah?”
I slid the ear-piece off my ear and looked at it. A blue LED showed it to be working. I put it back on, took the cell out of my pocket. I was still connected with her, the time elapsed since the call began was now…
“Huh? Can’t be,” I said. “Twelve minutes?” How long had it been since the last time I checked? Four minutes? Four and a half tops? That was only a minute ago. I rubbed the side of my face, puzzled. “Norrah? Can you hear me?”
I heard her muffled voice faintly. The ear-piece wasn’t doing her justice so I turned it off and used my phone directly, put it on speaker phone and cranked it up to full volume, pressed my ear against the speaker.
“Tell that bitch to stop crying. I’m not in the mood.” It was Paul’s muffled voice. She must have had the phone in her pocket, on speaker phone. Good girl.
“Jay if you can hear me, some help would be appreciated,” Norrah said.
“Jay’s dead,” Paul said. “Fuckin’ gone, and I had nothing to do with it. Taken, body and everything. Gone.”
What the hell? I strode toward Vintage. Taken, body and everything? I thought about the lapse in time, twelve minutes that should have been five minutes, and wondered if what Paul said had something to do with that.
I reached the locality on the bridge that the black magician had occupied, and stopped, stooped down. “Well I’ll be damned,” I breathed. Even being dark out I could see something mighty odd about this section of asphalt. It was lighter than the surrounding blacktop, as if it had been sun-bleached over the years, except for the center spot which was dark. A spot that had somewhat of a human shape to it from where Paul’s consort stood working his witchcraft on me. God had delivered me from that wicked demon. But it wasn’t a demon, was it? No, the master of demons was my original thought, and that master has a name. I only wished I could have seen it happen. There was nothing material here, only disparity in colors of asphalt.
“You’re lying,” Norrah said through my phone.
“That’s what you want to believe. I saw it happen. He’ll never be found. Like the missing twenty-three, only Jay won’t be returning.”
“You’re lying!” Norrah shouted.
I continued along the bridge now at a sprint, phone pressed against my ear so I could hear what was happening.
“Believe what you want to,” Paul said. “I don’t care. What I said is the truth.”
In the distance there was a gap in the eddying pockets of fog. I could see the gate that lined the perimeter of the oil lease. I hoped they were inside. I saw a Dodge Ram parked to the side of the gate and assumed it was Paul’s.
“Don’t fuckin’ patronize me!” Paul shouted. “You little bitch! I don’t think you have enough strength to take a single step toward me, that’s what I think!”
That was an odd thing to say. It made me remember trying to take a step to the guard rail. Black magic. My legs had become too heavy to move. It was Satan who had done that to me, not Paul. But Paul was trying that same shit on Brooke right now.
“Well…?” Paul said. “Come here.”
I heard Brooke mumble something incomprehensible, then, “I’m afraid of you.”
“Good! But I’m not asking you, I’m telling you: come here if you can!”
This time I heard Paul not through the phone. He was just up ahead and I was almost to the gate. I was making a lot of noise, my shoes slapping the pavement. I slowed down to quiet my arrival. I shoved my phone down in my pocket, withdrew my nine millimeter. I approached the gate at an angle to keep out of sight. I furtively made my way toward the opening.
“Why isn’t it working?” Paul said. “Show yourself to me.”
I peeked around the gate. Paul stood with his back to me. The three girls faced me, Brooke a few feet ahead of the others, and coiled as if she were preparing to bum-rush Paul. She glanced back at Norrah, then to Paul, who held a gun.
Shit…
“Don’t!” Norrah cried, but Brooke didn’t listen: she rushed Paul, eyes raptly on the gun in his hand. Paul opened his eyes, raised the gun at Brooke. I moved into full view as Paul’s gun went off, Brooke only arm’s length away from him. It was damn near point-blank range, his aim at her chest. There were two quick flashes of light from the barrel before I made some of my own. I fired a few times, careful not to hit Norrah or Deborah who were almost in my line of fire. Paul’s body thrust forward with each impact. I stepped forward and to the side, proceeded to empty my magazine into the piece of worthless shit who was now on the ground. Loud deafening reports one after another. My gun clicked several times before I stopped trying to fire bullets into him.
My first thought was that I had shot Deborah, as she was on the ground. But she looked over at Paul’s body when it became quiet: wisely she had dropped to the ground. Norrah stood with hands over her ears, gaping at Paul’s corpse.
Brooke stood there with eyes as round as eyes can be, mouth open. She touched over her jacketed chest and stomach, looked down. I moved quickly to her, opened her jacket to better see her body. I was in disbelief that she didn’t appear to be shot. Impossible.
“He missed you?” I asked her.
“I… don’t know.”
She wasn’t bleeding. I didn’t know what other conclusion to come to. There was no way he could have missed her, I saw where he was aiming when he fired, and how close she was. God must have guided those bullets around her, what else could it have been?
Norrah came to take a turn at examining Brooke. When she was satisfied she began weeping and muttering praises of God.
“You’re a lucky girl,” I said to her.
She nodded.
I moved on to Paul, who was face down, a puddle of blood under him. Deader than shit, and yet somehow he needed to be deader for my liking. If I had more bullets, I’d add to the others in his miserable body.
Norrah flung herself on me, pushing me back a couple steps, kissing me all over.
“Happiness to see me?” I said and kissed her back.
“Paul said you were dead and I believed him. Oh thank God you’re okay.”
“Yeah I heard him say that. Said I disappeared, and you know what? I think he’s right. There was a gap in time.”
Deborah got to her feet saying, “Does that mean…? Does that mean Aaron is okay, too?”
She sounded much too hopeful. I hated to have to tell her. I released Norrah and stepped to Deb with a low gaze. She inferred the answer from it and covered her face. I enveloped her in my arms and hugged.
“I’m so sorry,” I murmured. “He was brave, Deborah. He did what he had to, for us.” Well, for Brooke, but I didn’t want to say that. I didn’t want Deborah to spend her life resenting Brooke. “I’ve never known such a selfless person as Aaron.”
She bawled on my chest. So distraught she was, baying like some wounded animal, that it painted a pretty good picture of just how deeply she loved Aaron. Norrah hugged her with me. Brooke did the same, four of us in a group hug.