Southern Rites Read online

  “Over here,” Sandra said.

  She stood several feet from the boardwalk. A thick growth of low plants blanketed the soggy ground and four tall bushes formed a foliage wall that blocked the body from sight. Max slogged up beside his wife and gazed behind the bushes.

  A pine coffin lay half-submerged in the murky water. The surrounding mud piled up its side while other clumps dotted the area in a clear circle as if the coffin had erupted from beneath. Its top had been ripped off and tossed into the heavy bushes. The skeleton inside smiled at them.

  Unlike Archibald Henderson, this skeleton had not survived intact. Many of its bones were missing, and those that remained were stained with mud and decay. Where Henderson had been buried with his hat, journal, and musket, this one looked to have been dumped aside. If not for the similar way the coffins appeared to have exploded forth, Max would have seen nothing to connect the two.

  Sandra moved first. The depth of the mud varied greatly, making the simple act of walking to the coffin a chore. One step brought her leg down to the knee in mud. The next only went ankle deep. In the darkening night, it was difficult to judge where to place the next step.

  “Look here,” she said.

  Max sighed and Sandra chuckled. They both knew he wouldn’t be able to walk away — not until he examined the coffin for himself. With tentative steps, he attempted to follow the path Sandra had led while avoiding her missteps along the way. Leon remained by the boardwalk. Hopefully, he guarded the area, keeping alert to any unusual sounds or motions.

  “What do you got?” Max asked when he reached her side.

  She pointed her flashlight right below the skull. A small bag, probably made of deerskin, had been tied around the neck and now rested against the skeleton’s clavicle. Max reached for the bag but Sandra slapped his hand. “You don’t want to touch that.”

  “What is it?”

  “A curse, I think. I’ve seen pictures in my books on witchcraft. Bags like that are used for all sorts of magic.”

  “Like a juju bag?”

  “Sort of. It helps focus the spell and it can also serve as a surrogate circle. Whoever wanted to curse this man either didn’t have the time or the ability to draw a curse into the coffin.”

  “And this is the next best thing.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Which confirms beyond a doubt that there is magic involved in this. I’ll bet we’ll find one of these bags in Archibald Henderson’s coffin, too.”

  “More than likely.”

  Max used his flashlight to inspect the bones from top to bottom. “Look there,” he said, pointing at the skeleton’s legs. “Both femurs.”

  “I guess Leon didn’t have time to steal one.” Sandra leaned closer. “Oh.” She cocked her head to the side. “There’s something written on the right one.”

  “Written?”

  “Symbols. A few numbers. Definitely witchcraft.”

  “Take it.”

  Sandra shot bolt upright. “What?”

  “We can’t study it here, and I swear we’re being watched. Take the bone and we’ll check it out at the office.”

  “There might be two curses on this man, and you want me to just take the bone. Don’t you think that might cause us some problems?”

  Max glanced over his shoulder — he could barely see Leon poke a stick in the mud. “Hon, Leon stole the femur from Henderson. That’s not a coincidence.”

  “We don’t know it was him.”

  “It was somebody. And if we’re going to stay ahead of whatever game Mother Hope and Edward Wallace are playing, we need that bone. Now, you said it might be cursed. Are you not sure?”

  “Don’t start that. I admit I’m a novice, but that doesn’t mean I’m an idiot.” She glared at him, but he put on his most-innocent, puppy-dog look. “Okay. I don’t know for sure if these are curses, but there is definite magic involved here, and that means we should be cautious. Very cautious.”

  Max nodded. “You got a suggestion?”

  Sandra wrinkled her brow. “How about this — we take the bone and bury it someplace secluded. Then we make contact with a witch who would know how to read it, and if she says it’s safe, we’ll dig it up and bring it in.”

  “Sounds good.”

  She thrust her flashlight at him. “Hold this.” Repositioning closer to the coffin, she reached out toward the bone. Her hands shook, and Max could see the glint of trepidation in her eye like wincing in expectation of a shock. The skeleton smiled upon her, its eye sockets dark voids that watched her nonetheless.

  When she touched the leg bone, Max braced himself for an alarm to ring out or flames to engulf them or the skeleton to grab her. But nothing happened. The skeleton continued to stare off into the night, smiling at nothing, seeing only darkness.

  Sandra pulled the bone away, and the skeleton shifted, knocking its skull against the side of the coffin. She backed away from the coffin until she bumped into Max. “Got it,” she said.

  He kissed her cheek. “Let’s get out of here.”

  With large strides, they worked their way back to Leon and the boardwalk. Leon helped boost Sandra up. She, in turn, reached down and helped pull up Max. It took both of them to help Leon up.

  Max shined his light in Leon’s face. “Tell Mother Hope she can expect to hear from me in a few days. And I expect some answers.”

  A voice called out, “I think I can provide that. Oh, and I’ll be taking the bone of Mr. Johnathan Shoemaker.”

  Max turned, already knowing who he would see. After all, he had heard that voice earlier that same day — Edward Wallace.

  Chapter 7

  Flanked by four men wearing hooded robes, Edward blocked the way across the boardwalk. He had slicked his hair back for the evening and wore a dark suit with a clean, white vest. An ornate pendant hung around his neck. Looked rather like a vampire, though Max made sure to keep that thought quiet.

  Unless vampires ...

  He caught Sandra’s eye. She shook her head slightly and mouthed No such thing. He offered a grin and a wink. To some that might have seemed like he said Of course, I knew that but just as Sandra knew his initial question from a glance, she would know he actually meant Yes, I know we’ve talked about vampires in the past, but I needed the reassurance.

  Taking one step forward, Max said, “Edward Wallace, this is my wife Sandra.”

  “I already know her name. I do my research, too.”

  “Then you probably know Leon Moore, as well.”

  With a sneer, the tendons in Edward’s neck pulled taut. “I have no fear of the Magi. Pathetic little group.”

  “Aren’t you going to introduce your friends?”

  He put out his hand and held it firm — not a trace of fear. “Give me that bone, and you can walk away unharmed.”

  Max felt Sandra’s arm brush him as she place the bone behind her back. He checked Leon — the man clenched his jaw while glowering across at Edward. Not good. With that kind of hatred seething out, things could go bad at any moment.

  “Wait a minute,” Max said, forcing levity into his voice. “You said you were going to give us answers first. Since the Magi here won’t tell us anything, we’d like to know what we’ve stumbled into. Because let me tell you something I’ve learned over the years — once we get involved in this stuff, it won’t leave us alone.”

  “I’m not surprised in the least.” Edward lowered his hand. “People like Mother Hope want nothing more than to keep control over as many as they can. Especially if you’re gifted.”

  “Are you gifted?”

  “Aren’t we all?”

  Max stepped toward the railing while wagging a finger. “Good point.” He had to keep talking while he searched for a way to get free. He trusted that Sandra also wracked her brain for a solution. Leon, however, continued to throw visual spears at Edward. Max went on, “You seem to know a bit about us. I’m guessing you found out quite a bit about our lives since we moved here.”

  “You
’re not exactly the quietest people.”

  “It’s not our fault. The Magi, the Hulls — these groups keep bringing all of this nonsense to our doorstep. Often, we’re not even given a choice.”

  “That’s my exact point. Mother Hope controls you, forces you in a direction that you don’t even understand. That’s why you clamor for answers.”

  Rolling his fingers into fists, Leon said, “Stop talking about her.”

  Max stepped in front of Leon. “I still haven’t gotten any answers, and you said you would provide them. So, how about it? What’s with all these old skeletons?”

  “Abagail. That’s what this is all about.”

  “Who is she?”

  “I’ve given you the answer because I think it’s terrible the way the Magi play games with you. But you don’t get to keep asking me questions. Now, give me that bone.” Edward thrust his hand out once more.

  Through grinding teeth, Leon said, “The Magi and Mother Hope don’t mess with good people. They try to protect the world from bastards like you.”

  Edward closed his hand. “Mr. Moore, have you ever considered how old Mother Hope is?”

  “Keep your mouth shut about her.”

  “No offense intended. I only wanted to make sure you understood the kind of person you work for. I mean she’s old. Over a century. Not all of that time was spent with the Magi.”

  “I’m sure she’s made her mistakes, but she’s done more good fighting people like you.”

  “You don’t know anything about me. How can you be so sure I’m the bad guy? Mother Hope has been around a long time. Long before the Civil Rights Movement. Long enough, in fact, that her views towards black men may not be all that enlightened. Do you know for a fact she’s not the real enemy?”

  Max couldn’t understand why Edward provoked Leon, but he had no doubt it was a mistake. Leon’s face tightened. Max stepped over to Sandra and whispered, “Get to our car and protect that bone.”

  They had been through enough together that Sandra didn’t express worry or doubt. Those feelings reverberated through her, but she wouldn’t protest. He only hoped she’d listen.

  “Tell me,” Edward went on, “does she call you by name or is just boy?”

  “Bastard!” Leon charged forward with more strength than Max would have imagined. A year ago, Leon’s old body had been stooped over and weak. The magic that kept Mother Hope alive for over a century clearly brought with it more than exterior youth. She had given Leon many of his years back, and he threw all those years into his fists as he barreled toward Edward.

  The four hooded men rushed forward. This must have been part of their plan all along — they wanted to take out Leon. But from their action, they expected Max and Sandra to stand by, cowering like two pampered suburbanites. They were wrong.

  As Leon threw his first punch, landing a solid hit upon the hooded man on the left, Max launched at the hooded man on the far right. A bit of a sucker punch, he fully admitted, but he never worried about fair play when it came to fighting for his life.

  Max brought back his arm for a second strike and felt his elbow connect hard with another hooded man. Luck always played a part in a fight, and this time it played a helpful part. He punched forward.

  Leon lifted one man into the air and tossed him over the railing. The man yelped, followed by a muddy splash and a dull grunt.

  In a flash, Max connected with Sandra. He winked at her. “Ready?” He turned back and shoved Edward aside. Then he sprinted down the boardwalk.

  “Get him!”

  Max heard a delightful crack in Edward’s voice. But seconds later, the rapid beats of men running on the boardwalk chased him further through the woods. With any luck, Max figured he pulled at least two of the men his way. Leon could handle the rest while Sandra escaped.

  Checking behind him, Max failed to see one of the boards missing from the walk. His foot caught on the lip of the exposed board and down he went. He bounced into the hard walk and splinters dug into his hands as he skidded several feet.

  He rolled onto his back. The good news — two men plus Edward approached him. The bad news — he didn’t have time to get on his feet.

  One man kept his hood drawn. The other shook his off revealing a thick, wide face and an eye patch over his right eye. Edward leaned against the wood railing and watched as his men punched Max in the stomach and kicked him in the sides.

  “You know,” Edward said as Eye-patch popped Max in the gut, “I had been told of your brazen stupidity.” Kick! “You take wild risks that should’ve gotten you killed long ago.” Punch! “But you’re quite lucky apparently. Or perhaps you were protected by the Hulls back then.” Kick! “Yet now, the Hulls are gone, and the only one who can protect you is Mother Hope.” Punch! “But we both know that won’t happen.”

  Max tried to lift his head but it might as well have been a ball of iron. The beating had stopped, but that only let his body change focus from enduring the hits to noticing the damage. Pain throbbed along his right side.

  The hooded man grabbed his arms and yanked him upward. He groaned as they shoved him against the railing opposite Edward. His head had started to lighten, at least. A few clean breaths of air, and he could stand on his own feet.

  “You look awful,” Edward said, and Eye-patch laughed in short, grunting bursts. Edward laced his fingers together and cracked his knuckles. He watched Max from the corner of his eye like a predator taking the measure of its prey.

  But to Max, it felt rehearsed. The low jabs to his abdomen, however, felt quite authentic. “I have waited long enough,” Edward said, punctuating with a punch. “Give me that bone.”

  Max’s head lolled forward. “Can’t do that.”

  “You will, or I’ll beat you to death.” Edward struck Max twice to underscore his point.

  “Sorry, pal. I don’t have it.”

  Edward’s mouth dropped open as he realized his mistake. “The wife.” He looked to his henchmen. “The wife has the bone.”

  Max felt the grip on his arms loosen and wasted no time taking advantage. He lunged forward, leading his shoulder straight into Edward’s stomach. As the young man doubled-over with a hoarse cough, Max vaulted over the railing and into the woods.

  Branches whipped by as he dashed through. He hopped across several wide stones to avoid a sodden section of land. The ground angled upward causing Max to slow his progress. Those hooded men had to be behind him, closing in, but he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. Keep your eyes forward. Keep running.

  Max saw the woodchip path and followed it further up the hill. His legs burned. Gasping with each step, he came upon a shallow creek. He jumped across and headed straight off the path. Sweat soaked through his shirt as he slowed his pace.

  He had to stop to catch his breath and get his bearings. The street noises sounded louder and he thought he glimpsed headlights spraying across the trees as a car turned onto the main road running alongside the park. Except it could also have been flashlights from his enemies.

  No time to waste figuring it out. The fact that lights came from further upward convinced him that they belonged to cars. He took off, but between the beatings, the exertion of his initial escape, and his lack of regular exercise, Max had reached the limit of his running. He opted for a fast walk.

  Not fast enough.

  As he entered a narrow clearing marked with a circle of seven stones each the size of a small bed, Eye-patch appeared ahead. Max turned back but the man’s hooded partner was there, breathing heavily but walking forward. In the center of the circle, Max spied a half-charred log. Too big to handle as a weapon, and too charred to hold together.

  Off to the right, a third hooded man joined them. That didn’t bode well for Leon. To the left, Max saw Edward. At least Max’s vanity had some relief — sweat dribbled down Edward’s face, too.

  Max had expected Edward to say something snide or victorious. Instead, the man crossed his arms and watched as the hooded figures closed in. The
assault began from behind — a kick to the back of the knees that sent Max crashing down. Like hungry wolves, the other two crowded in. Each took a turn striking Max while Edward looked on.

  “Stop!” Sandra shouted, her voice deep and full of menace.

  The men halted, curious at the sudden disturbance. With both hands, Sandra held the marked bone above her head. Her mouth moved, but Max could not make out the words — until he realized she was casting a spell.

  “Be gone!” she yelled.

  The bone glowed orange. Edward looked back at his men, saw the fear on their face, but before he could speak, bright white light flashed off the bone. It lit up the area like security lights flooding a parking lot. The men dropped Max. One pulled his hood further forward before rushing off down the hill. The other two stepped back. Eye-patch raised a hand over his eyes as he turned away. Max tried to stand but only managed to fall against one of the large stones.

  Edward turned to his men. “Relax,” he said. “It’s nothing.”

  As Sandra concentrated on the bone, Edward strode right up to her and clocked her on the chin. Max winced, and Sandra let out a shocked cry. Max shoved off the stone, but two men grabbed him by the shoulders and held him back. It wasn’t too hard — most of his strength had been beaten out of him.

  Snatching the bone from the ground, Edward turned back. He crouched before Max, and with a condescending shake of his head, he placed his hand on Max’s shoulder. “I don’t care that you once fought the Hulls. I don’t care that you’ve had some experience with magic. You’re in over your head here. Please, for the sake of your wife, stop now. You tried, and you lost. I don’t want to see you get hurt any worse, and if you get in our way again, you will be. A lot worse. You understand?”

  Max nodded because he knew Edward needed some sort of response.

  “Good. We’re not out to harm anybody — well, not anybody innocent — and if you don’t listen to me here, right now, you’ll no longer be innocent.” He put his forehead against Max’s forehead. With a dead look in his eyes, he said, “I’m not interested in murdering you or your wife, but I’m not unwilling either. And you know we can hide a body. Look how long those coffins remained hidden.”