Authors: William Buckel
Tags: #voodoo priestessvoodoo queenhockley valleyorangevillenew orleansmardi graswitch
“I’m attempting to keep Shelley alive
and Lenea is attempting to kill her. I can feel my sister’s
energy.”
Harry eyed Shelley and saw a greying in
her skin he’d not seen before.
“Is there anything we can do? Anything
you can think of?”
“My mother Marie knows more than I do.
She wouldn’t teach Lenea everything. Wouldn’t trust her. That’s why
Voodoo magic has lost power over the years as less and less is
passed onto the next generation. A lack of trust issue.”
“Where is your mother now?”
“New Orleans.”
“Could you ask her to come
here?”
“I could but she would never come,
never leave the environment she feels comfortable in. She’s the
Voodoo Queen of New Orleans. Lenea calls herself the Voodoo Queen
of everywhere else.”
“And John Dean’s the mystery
man?”
“Yup. You finally got it.”
“Not really. How exactly do you fit
in?”
“I’m the disloyal daughter. Left the
family behind and became a whore.”
“You have power.”
“I have a witch’s power. I could never
put Shelley or Tony in a trance the way Lenea did.”
“We need a passport for Shelley if
we’re going to cross the border.”
“She kept some paperwork at Tony’s
place. In a basement shelf. I don’t think they’d suspect you of
going there.”
“But if I go there I have to leave you
two women alone.”
“Only for a couple of hours at the
most. We’ll handle ourselves. Sandy’s no wallflower and neither am
I.”
“I’ll be back in two hours then. Get
Shelley ready to leave.”
Harry started his Cuda and left the
lane then drove northeast to Tony’s place. He arrived in half an
hour and parked his car in front of Tony’s house, or what used to
be his house before Harry and the women buried him in the woods. He
rummaged through cabinets in the basement and soon found one full
of papers. He found Shelley’s passport and as a first stroke of
luck it was up to date.
When Harry came up the cellar steps he
was face to face with John Dean. But then he had been before in
this house and the man disappeared. Was he real?
“Hello Harry. Long time no see. You and
Shelley taking a trip? I see you have her passport.”
“Now that she’s better I thought me and
Sandy would take her to Disneyland.”
“Hah, you’re a laugh. Why don’t you
give me the passport, Harry. I don’t think she’ll need it after
today.”
“Then why do you want it? Tell me John
old buddy. Why the fuck are we doing this dance? You say nobody
knows shit.”
“We’re doing this because you think Joe
Sharky killed your brother and I’m doing it because I’m being paid.
Now give me the passport.”
“Fuck you.”
Harry shoved John Dean on the way out
of the door. He felt Dean’s hand on his shoulder and the next thing
Harry knew he was tumbling down the front steps. Dean was strong.
Harry felt a boot hit his stomach and another hit him square in the
face. He rolled trying to get away from Dean, straight to his car.
He rolled under the Cuda and lay on his back. Dean’s boot caught
him in the right rib cage. Harry twisted his way out from under the
car holding his Beretta.
He shot Dean three times.
One in the head, one in the chest and a
third in the gut.
Dean vanished before he dropped to the
ground.
Harry wiped the sweat, blood, and dirt
from his eyes then looked again.
Shit. The guy disappeared
again.
Harry searched for traces of blood but
couldn’t tell if what he found was his or Dean’s. He retrieved
Shelley’s passport from the front steps. Through blurry eyes he
searched for signs of a car. He looked around the back and sides of
the house hoping to find Dean’s body. He could almost swear he’d
seen Dean smile after he’d been shot.
Who the fuck was this guy?
Harry checked his watch and calculated
the time in the house and the beating he took then estimated he
somehow lost fifteen minutes. Karma told him that at their last
encounter Lenea had probably frozen Harry’s time line. Had she done
it again? If so then she’d have done it after he’d shot John Dean.
Was Dean dead? And if so why had Lenea left Harry alive? Surely if
she froze time and picked up Dean she would have killed Harry. Why
not? She was in the area anyway.
Harry followed his own tread marks in
the gravel when he’d driven into the laneway. The evidence wasn’t
clear enough for him to confirm another car had been there after he
drove in.
Half an hour later he was home again.
His heart sank when he noticed the front door was open. He entered
the house, gun in hand, and noticed Karma lying on the floor.
Scanning the inside of the house he ran to her. She had a pulse and
was warm to the touch.
“I’m okay,” she rasped.
Then added,
“He isn’t.”
She pointed to the front door and
hanging from the frame a foot off the floor was one of Sharky’s
bouncers. He was nailed to the door frame through both hands with
what appeared to be a railroad spike.
“Sandy and Shelley are out back,” said
Karma.
Harry was assaulted by Sandy when he
went out the back door. In a nice way of course. She jumped up and
kissed his blood covered face. Shelley stood like a statue not far
behind.
Harry returned to the house where Karma
sat on her butt stroking her face.
“He got in a good one before I nailed
him,” said Karma.
Harry couldn’t help but smile. Karma
wasn’t the joking type. She held out her hand and the spike
wrenched out of the door frame. The bouncer’s body dropped to the
floor. He moaned so he wasn’t dead.
“There were two but after seeing his
buddy pinned the other one decided to take a walk,” said
Karma.
Harry realized that they’d been watched
and when the opportunity availed itself they attacked.
Harry, Sandy, and Karma took turns in
the tub and before long were in Sandy’s sedan on the way south to
New Orleans.
Chapter 20
Harry decided to take a route through
Detroit and stay west of the mountains on the way to New Orleans.
Harry and Sandy shared time in the driver’s seat switching every
two hours. The Chrysler 300 was almost new and could easily make
the non-stop trek in two days.
Day one brought them to the border
crossings at Detroit. The female border guard on the American side
irritated Harry to no end. Shelley’s eyes were bandaged as were her
hands so she piqued the curiosity of the guard. She opened the rear
door and asked Shelley,
“You all right mam?”
Of course Shelley didn’t
respond.
Karma offered,
“I’m her nurse and she’s sedated. We’re
taking her to a trauma specialist in Atlanta.”
The guard eyed Karma with
suspicion.
“What’s the doctor’s name?”
Harry had never wanted to hit a woman
but…
Karma answered,
“We don’t have one yet. We were advised
to seek out a general practitioner and he’d have to arrange an
appointment with a suitable professional in the field. That is the
way it’s done isn’t it?”
Karma’s voice was laced with
sarcasm.
Harry couldn’t hold back any
longer.
“Exactly what is it you think we’re
doing lady? Kidnapping? Transporting slave labour south? It is
exactly the way it appears to a normal human being. Shelley is
injured and sick. We’re driving her south for
treatment.”
Harry could see the guard
stiffen.
“It looks suspicious to me. The grey
colour of her skin. It looks like you need a specialist as well
mister. Something’s not right.”
Harry shot back,
“We were in the same car
accident.”
The guard wasn’t about to let
up.
“Don’t they have hospitals where you
come from?”
“There’s a waiting list.”
The male guard that had been at her
side returned with an older guard probably a higher ranking
official. Harry wondered what they were in for. The older man
asked,
“What’s the trouble Ruth?”
“There’s something wrong with this
injured lady. I can feel it.”
The official looked at Harry and
asked,
“What’s the story?”
Karma answered for Harry,
“I’m a nurse and we’re taking Shelley
for treatment in Atlanta. She’s sedated to ease the pain and can’t
speak for herself. Our papers are in order so we’d like to continue
our journey.”
The official glanced at Ruth then at
Shelley.
“It looks straight forward to me. Go
on. Sorry about the confusion.”
Harry breathed a sigh of
relief.
As the official walked away Harry heard
him say,
“Come to my office a minute
Ruth.”
Ruth wouldn’t relent.
“But sir, can you not see there’s
something wrong?”
“Yah, the woman’s injured.”
Harry didn’t here any more as they
moved out of range and Sandy drove on.
They stopped for washroom breaks
outside of Detroit. Shelley had retained her primal instincts for
bodily functions. Thank God for that thought Harry. It did take
both Karma and Sandy to help her into the washroom, however.
Shelley was slightly aware now but couldn’t form words.
They gassed up and started south again.
They passed through Dayton then stopped on the outskirts of
Cincinnati. They took washroom breaks and grabbed some fast food.
Shelley slowly but surely finished a burger and fries combo. Harry
hoped she’d come around. And what if she did? Would she have a
memory? And did she know anything?
If she didn’t why would Joe Sharky turn
her over to Lenea? And why had the Voodoo priestess turned her into
one of the walking dead?
The Hemi in Sandy’s Chrysler purred
like a kitten as they entered the outskirts of Nashville. It was
time for another pit stop. A police cruiser followed them in and
the officer, hand resting on the butt of his gun, approached
Harry.
He saw three women in the car and
relaxed slightly. Nothing like women to calm a man’s
nerves.
“You were a little over the limit,
fifteen miles an hour to be exact.”
His eyes caught sight of Shelley and he
walked around to the passenger side and stared at her. Karma rolled
down the window and explained.
“I’m a nurse and Shelley’s my patient.
We’re taking her to Atlanta for treatment.”
Same old shit thought Harry.
The officer nodded then walked back to
the driver’s side door.
“Take it easy on the pedal mister. I
hope they can help your friend. You look like you could use a
little help yourself.”
“We were in a car accident.”
“Take it easy,” he said then got back
in his cruiser and drove away. Seeing Shelley must have softened
his heart.
Harry slept and woke near Memphis and
immediately took his turn at the wheel. Sandy slept until the warm
sun woke her in Jackson. This would be their final stop before
entering New Orleans. Washroom breaks and fast foods again. Harry
wanted a salmon steak and a shot or two of whiskey. It would have
to wait.
Half an hour later they started the
final leg of their journey.
Sandy was uncharacteristically quite
throughout the drive, one eye on the rear view.
“What’s up Sandy?” asked
Harry.
She understood his question immediately
as though waiting for him to ask.
“Lenea gives me the creeps. Will she
always be there? With us?”
It was Karma who answered.
“She will if you let her. You give her
power.”
Sandy laughed.
“She’s a Voodoo priestess. I’m a dumb
fucking waitress.”
“She’s what you make of her and you are
how you see yourself.”
“I’m not making the
connection?”
“So far you’ve been what you had to be.
You will be the person you need to be to survive. Lenea is a yeast
infection.”
“Yeast?”
They all laughed.
Chapter 21
Karma took the wheel for the first time
as they entered New Orleans. A lot had changed and she knew the way
by memory rather than by the names of streets. She announced they
were in the old French Quarter and parking was almost no
existent.
While driving she pointed to a cemetery
filled with tombstones and mausoleums.
“In August 2005 Hurricane Katrina
literally raised the dead. Thousands of coffins were uplifted and
drifted through the city causing a nightmare. Talk about Vampires
tales and the living dead. Some of New Orleans is only eight feet
or so above sea level. The levees gave way causing flooding
throughout the city.”