The men watched as Kelly left, closing the door behind her.
“She’s a real cute kid, Bob,” Moss observed. “You’ve done a tremendous job with her.”
“What do you mean?”
“Unassuming and self-sacrificing. She hasn’t demonstrated a selfish bone in her body since I’ve met her. She’s not spoiled one bit, is she?”
Chief looked at him thoughtfully. “No. She’s not spoiled. And she is holding up absurdly good under the circumstances, no thanks to me.”
Moss regarded him closely. “Assuming blame, are we, Bob?”
“I’m failing her, Mort. I can’t save her...”
“One doesn’t have anything to do with the other. You’re not failing her as a parent–”
“What is the job of a parent, but to protect his children and keep them from harm?”
“Which you are doing, admirably.”
Chief’s expression intensified. “So far. And at what cost?”
“Don’t worry, Bob. We’ll pull it together.”
“I just don’t get it,” Chief said shaking his head. He glanced at the wall and the piles of paper on the floor. “From the transcripts and these records, we can piece together what happened to him. How he split and then became lost. The people in his life– his parents– manic depressant, schizophrenics. I’m only surprised he hung onto his sanity as long as he did. But these damn dreams of Kelly’s, Mort. How the hell does she know? The black bird, it’s the symbol of that cult. It was all over the boy, and the cave walls. Where is Kelly picking this up from?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“The hell it doesn’t matter! It’s tearing her apart.”
“What do you want me to say, Bob? Huh? There are more things in this world that can’t be explained than you could possibly count in one lifetime, my friend. So Kelly’s locked in. How the hell should I know why? It could just be coincidence. But I doubt it. I know what you want me to say, and maybe that is the answer–that these impressions are being fed to her.”
“By who?”
“Who do you think?” Moss stared at Chief Broden. “You already have your suspicions. It’s the one missing player in this whole bloody scenario. The key to the whole case.”
“Katherine,” whispered Chief.
“Bingo.”
“But how is that possible? And why?”
“It doesn’t matter if it is possible or not. The only thing that matters is that it is happening. Accept it Bob. And let’s work with it. And as far as ‘why,’ we have yet to discover that. But we must assume it is important.” Moss looked intently at Chief. “She had dreams too, if you remember, Bob. Dreams very similar to the ones Kelly is experiencing now. And Kate dreamt Charley’s death– every detail of the scene.”
“I know,” admitted Chief.
“You didn’t want to believe in the dreams then. You’re not willing to admit their importance now.”
Chief looked at him sharply. “Dreams,” he muttered. “Bloody dreams. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“I remember what she said. Do you?”
Chief glared.
“Oh yeah,” Mort mentioned, “you never forget a thing.”
“I remember.”
“We didn’t understand the significance then, Bob. We didn’t have all the facts. But she was warning us. She was warning us about this!”
“How do you figure–”
Moss shook his head. “Kelly takes after her mother.”
“So.”
“Kelly is eleven.”
“So?”
Moss looked sharply at Chief, when Mike cut in, “I’d like to hear the dream. What does it have to do with the Squirt, Mort?”
Moss looked at Mike before returning to Chief. “I think Bob should do the honors, he’s the one with the eidetic memory. Tell Mike, exactly the way she told you.”
Chief rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Christ, Mort.”
“Do it.”
“Fine.” Chief turned to Mike. “She had the first dream ... at least she told me about the first dream– hell it wasn’t a dream, it was a nightmare. They started just after Charley Stevens was taken. She told me of the first one, the night before we found Charley’s body.
“The nightmare starts off in the woods just past the flats in Duncan’s Field. That’s where she entered the woods. The woods were filled with a dense fog. She said she was a child of eleven running for her life, trying to escape something in the fog. It was growling as it chased her. All she could see were its eyes, glowing red through the fog. She mentioned its breath– so foul, as though it had consumed rotten meat and an inexplicable panic– she knew the animal was there to kill her, to consume her.
“It chased her to a clearing…somewhere in the Grange. The fog cleared and there was a full moon. In the middle of the clearing she saw a tree...and a boy impaled to the tree. In the earlier dreams she first thought it was Joe, only he was older…he was around thirteen.
“I remember mentioning to her that it was interesting, that Joe was thirteen years older than he is now, and she was thirteen years younger.”
Mort glanced up sharply. “I didn’t realize–”
“It doesn’t mean anything, Mort.”
“How do you know that? Thirteen years, Bob. Bartlett’s cycle was thirteen years. It’s been thirteen years since those boys were killed. You don’t see a significance? Really?”
Chief felt flushed. He couldn’t wrap his head around the significances Moss was pointing out. He didn’t want to. “It’s irrelevant, Mort. She changed her mind. She said she’d realized it wasn’t Joe, it was the child we lost, and the girl wasn’t Kate– she was the child that will never–” Chief cut his line. The blood rushed from his brain too fast and he felt the room spin. He gripped the edge of the table and leaned. “Oh Christ,” he said quietly. “The child that will never be... but she was...” He looked up at Moss. “How can this be happening?’
“I don’t know.” Moss looked at Mike.
Chief followed his gaze. “She described Charley Steven’s injuries in detail, Mike. Everything.”
He returned to Moss. “She said it didn’t feel like a dream, Mort. She said it felt like a premonition.”
Moss nodded. “You need to open your mind a little more, Bob.”
“She mentioned the bird,” Chief admitted.
Moss’s gaze narrowed. “You’re kidding.”
“She mentioned the bird was sitting next to the boy and was over three feet tall with bluish black feathers. She said it leaned over and plucked the boy’s eye out.”
“That sounds familiar,” Moss said. “You didn’t think to mention this?”
“I didn’t understand.”
“Eyes are the soul, Bob, or rather, the windows to the soul. Pathways. The bird is stealing souls– the cult is stealing souls.”
“According to dreams.”
“According to the evidence of two investigations.”
“I explained all the imagery away,” Chief admitted. “Tied it up in a nice little knot. I didn’t believe it meant anything. Now I’m not so sure.” Chief glanced at Mike. There was another dream Kate had thirteen years ago. Another premonition. But he wasn’t ready to deal with that, or the implications it may have. That dream included his deputy.
Chief stood and walked to the desk where the sandwiches sat untouched when he noticed the expression on his deputy’s face. “Something the matter, Mike?”
Mike returned from his thoughts to stare blankly at Chief. “Chief, Mort, excuse me for a second?"
“Sure, Mike,” Chief told him. “But when you’re finished talking with Kelly, there’s some beer in the icebox, third shelf, bring three.”
“How’d you know?” Mike said.
“I didn’t like the look in her eyes, either. I was as unnerved as you were. Find out what she saw and let us know.”
Mike nodded and left the room. He found Kelly on the front porch feeding part of her lunch to her dog.
“Hey, Squirt,” he said and made his way to the child. She said, “hi” back. At first she wouldn't even look at him. Why? It could only be the dreams. The discussion in the office weighed on him. The fact the child was psychically connected to something larger, something other worldly was unsettling. And now Mike was in her nightmares. Seeing the fear and distress that caused the child was hard on Mike. He needed to put her fear to rest. If she was too busy worrying about those around her, she’d soon forget to worry about herself. And that was Blackney’s master plan- to catch her off guard. Cause her to make a mistake.
“Mind if I sit down?” Mike asked the child.
She didn’t look at him when she answered, “No, sir.”
Mike Took his seat after moving the tray out of his way. It took him several attempts to get to the bottom of her fears; several times she dodged his questions as well as his eyes. But eventually she admitted that it was the dreams that were behind her fears. She had seen one of the shadows pull free from the Dead Place to land across his face– the mark of death. Mike felt the pain she tried to hide at the mention of Sam and Preacher.
Mike felt his words put the child’s mind at ease. He had convinced her, successfully, not to worry about him. He wasn't worried. He'd learned a long time ago, to take life as it came. He would keep his promise of caution. He gave her a reassuring hug and kissed her forehead before leaving her, staring at her dog in the front yard.
Mike made his way to the kitchen to collect the beer.“How’s the planning going?” he asked the women, his smile bright, not a trace of trepidation.
Maggy answered his smile with one of her own. “All finished, and none too soon I might add,” she said. “Now all that’s left is to finish my sewing.”
“Why don’t you bring yours over to my place and we’ll finish it together,” Elly suggested.
“That’s a great idea, that way Kelly won’t get a peek at what she’ll be wearing and throw a tantrum.”
“You don’t think she’ll like it?”
“If it even remotely resembles a dress, Miss Elly, she won’t like it.”
“What about the investigation. Any ideas?” Elly asked Mike, nodding towards the office.
“Nothing concrete yet. Just a lot of theory. It’s looking like this case is tied to the case they worked back in ’23. They suspected Jonas and Bartlett were a part of a cult back then. Mort believes Fred's parents might be part of the same cult and subjected Fred to some of the rituals. There is pretty strong evidence that he witnessed them, even though he wasn’t officially a member.”
Elly had lost most of the color in her face. “That’s horrible!” she exclaimed. Maggy just stared.
“Anyway, they’re taking a break for lunch ... sent me for some brews.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Maggy piped in, rising from her chair. “I forgot–”
“It’s all right, Mag, I’ll get them,” Mike told her. “Third shelf, right?”
Mike opened the icebox and retrieved the beer, setting them on the counter as he did so. Then he searched out the bottle opener.
“Drawer by the sink,” Maggy said when she noticed him searching.
“Thanks,” Mike said and went to the sink. He had plenty of time to look out the window and see Kelly dashing across the back yard to disappear beyond the trees.
“Shit!” Mike dropped the beer in his hand as he missed setting it on the counter. It crashed to the floor sending shards of broken glass in all directions. Mike ignored the glass as he first tried to open the kitchen window to call after the girl, but it wouldn’t budge.
“What is it?” Maggy asked standing from her chair.
“Get Chief!” Mike called as he ran to the back door, “Kelly’s run off.”
© Copyright 2025 C J Driftwood. All rights reserved.
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