The Witches of Dark Root: Daughters of Dark Root: Book One (The Daughters of Dark Root) (12 page)

Johnny nodded, his whole body rocking as his eyes darted from side to side.
 

“Got it,” he said, hitting a button on the dash. ‘For Those About to Rock, I Salute You’ blasted through the vehicle. Steve tugged at my skirt and motioned for Johnny to keep watch outside, but Johnny just continued to leer at us. “I ain't gonna miss this,” he said, pounding his hands on the passenger door in time to the music.

Realizing I had nothing to lose anymore, I fought back, twisting, turning, and biting at him like a feral cat. “Go for the nose, the eyes, and the throat,” my self-defense teacher’s voice came back to me, and I attacked Steve with a ferocity I didn’t know I had.
 

But he was quicker and stronger, capturing my hands each time they slid from his grip, calling me names I had never heard before.

Johnny jumped around in the front seat muttering, “Oh man, oh man,” and “For those about to rock I salute you.” Steve told him to shut the fuck up and Johnny retorted with, “Who are you to tell me what to do? You can’t even control one little girlie.”

I gnashed my teeth, tearing into Steve’s ear, ripping off a small piece. It tasted like iron and salt.
 

“Bitch!” He backhanded me, twisting my neck into an unnatural position. He kissed me hard and I spit blood back into his mouth.
 

“That’s it!” he said, “I’m done with this!”

He covered my entire nose and mouth so that I couldn’t breathe. I could feel myself losing consciousness as his hand reached for my breast. With my last ounce of strength I pushed his hand away and found Michael’s crystal under my shirt. I gripped it as I slid into a long, dark tunnel.
 

Just as suddenly, I was back, gasping for air.

Steve’s hand no longer covered my face.
 

The rear car door was open and a muscled arm thrust itself inside, pulling Steve’s body across mine. He yelped as he was thrown into the parking lot. The front door opened and the arm returned, ripping Johnny out the door.
 

I sobbed as I pulled down my skirt and listened to the scuffling outside. At last I gathered myself and scrambled to the opposite door, away from my attackers.
 

“Wait!” A voice called out as I raced into the darkness of the trees that surrounded the parking lot. The forest was pitch black but I didn’t care. I just ran, tripping and terrified through the woods. The sound of footsteps followed me. I looked right, then left, unsure of where to go.

Two strong hands seized my shoulders from behind and I screamed.

“Maggie. It’s okay. It’s all over.”
 

I knew that voice and it wasn’t Steve or Johnny’s.

My knees buckled and I went limp in his arms. He pushed my wet hair away from my forehead, cradling me like a baby. When I was strong enough to stand on my own, he wiped my tears away then guided me out of the woods.

“We called the cops.” He nodded towards two large men who had my two assailants slung over the back of an old Cadillac Eldorado. “...They will be here any moment.”
 

I heard a siren in the distance, careening in our direction and I knew that he was right.
 

“I’m taking you home, Maggie,” he said.

I nodded and followed Shane to the truck.

Seven: Witchy Woman

The Haunted Dark Root Festival, Dark Root, Oregon

Halloween, 1993

Bump, bump, bump! The last jolt startled Maggie, practically sending her spiraling over the side of the wagon and into the crowd.

Luckily, Merry caught her by the arm and pulled her back.

Maggie gave her an appreciative smile and returned to the task at hand. She still had half a sack of Halloween candy to throw out, and the parade was coming to a close.

Some younger kids propelled out of the crowds, running alongside the wagon. “Candy!” they screamed, arms stretched overhead and eager mouths open. Maggie reached into her bag to scoop out a handful, but Eve was quicker, dumping the entire contents of her own sack overboard. The children cheered. Eve stuck out her tongue triumphantly.
 

Maggie moved to pinch her, but then caught sight of their mother. Miss Sasha was waving to the crowd at the front of the wagon. If Maggie did anything to ruin her special day, she would be in trouble.

“Maggie, Eve, Merry!” Ruth Anne called to them.

Maggie tottered to the other side of the wagon to catch a glimpse of her sister. Ruth Anne stood with Aunt Dora by the entrance of Miss Sasha’s Magick Shoppe, smiling and cheering the girls on. Maggie felt a small tug at her heart. This was the first year Ruth Anne wasn’t accompanying her sisters on the parade route, and that his suited Miss Sasha fine.
 

Still, Maggie didn’t like it. Ruth Anne was doing her own thing more often these days, and she could feel the chasm between Ruth Anne and her younger sisters growing deeper every day.
 

“We’re almost done, girls,” Miss Sasha said, turning in their direction.
 

Her black, pointed hat almost fell off her head as she spun around, but she caught it and pushed it firmly down over her ears. Maggie adjusted her own hat and straightened her simple, black dress. The ‘Witches of Dark Root’ were expected to play the part the entire day, and that meant staying in character, even if the costumes were itchy and a size too small.

Bump! Another sharp jolt as the wheels hit a crack in the road. Maggie looked ahead. There were three floats and a band in front of them, crossing the parade’s finish line.
 

Just in time, Maggie thought. She needed to use the bathroom really badly and the jostling of the wagon didn’t help.

“Do you have your candles?” Merry asked, as she produced her own white, tapered candle from the pocket of her dress. Maggie and Eve nodded, earning them a look of approval. “Good. Hold on to them for later, for the lighting ceremony...”

As the horses that pulled the cart proceeded towards their destination, Maggie caught sight of a woman with spiraling, dark hair weaving in and out of the crowd. She was speaking, her voice a deep growl as she kept pace with the wagon.
 

Maggie was used to seeing strangers during the Haunted Dark Root Festival, but there was something sinister about the woman that Maggie couldn’t explain.

“Mother!” Maggie called.

Miss Sasha turned and Maggie pointed to the woman.

“Larinda!” her mother gasped. Miss Sasha hurdled the bench that separated her from her daughters. “...Girls, come close! Hurry! The circle cannot be broken!”
 

As the horses crossed the finish line, Miss Sasha swallowed her daughters into the folds of her black cape, and they vanished into the night.

Shane Doler’s Pickup Truck, Central Oregon

September, 2013

Bump!
 

Whatever we hit, startled me awake. For a moment, I forgot where I was, but as my eyes adjusted to the dark, I recognized the driver gripping the steering wheel and I remembered.

“Sorry about that,” Shane said, glancing in my direction. “I think I dozed off a little there. I was fine until the radio lost reception. I’m glad you’re awake now.” He yawned and blinked several times. “Want to keep me company?”

I shrugged. After what I had been through, I wasn’t in the mood to entertain anyone, even if it was my rescuer. I took a moment to study him. He wore a goofy grin and a large silver belt buckle. But at least he looked friendly. And safe.

I sighed and wedged myself back into my corner of the bench seat.

“What are you looking forward to the most?” he asked, cracking his window. The smell of moss and rain filled the cab of his pickup. “Seeing your sisters, I bet?”

I shrugged again, wishing he would stop talking. My body was heavy and achy and I wanted to sleep.

“You know your ma’s shop closed up, don’t you? About three years ago, I guess. Darn pity, too. There’s a small college a few towns over and I bet you, dollars to donuts, those students would swarm that store if it reopened. I know your ma isn’t in any position to...” His voice trailed off and his eyes softened. “...I’m sorry. I’m being insensitive.”

“Do you have any aspirin?” The pounding in my head was getting worse. I was starting to feel nauseous.

“I got some headache powder,” he said, reaching into his console. He produced what looked like a Kool-Aid packet and ripped it open with his teeth. “It’s powder, so works quick. Swallow it and chase it with a drink of my coke. Don’t worry,” he said smiling again. “I don’t have cooties.”

I looked at the packet. I had never heard of headache powder before, but I was willing to try anything. It tasted like chalk and I practically choked as I chugged down the soda to wash the taste out of my mouth.

“You don’t do anything quietly, do you?” he laughed, as I wadded up the wrapper and threw it on the floor of the passenger seat. “When we were kids, you were always making noise, too.”
 

I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping the medicine would kick in. I pushed my fingers to my temples, trying to squeeze out the pain.

“Do you remember when we used to play hide and seek?” he continued. “Whenever it was your turn to hide, we could always find you, because you would squeal whenever you thought we were close.”

I opened my eyes and looked at him again, trying to dig up old memories of us playing hide and seek together. The process made my head hurt worse. “I’m sorry,” I confessed when he began another
do you remember story.
“...I still have no idea who you are.”

Shane’s face tightened. He looked hurt.
 

I leaned my head back, pressing my neck into the headrest and wishing that I had said that a different way. “Sorry.” I offered him a weak smile. “It’s been a tough night.”

Shane nodded and leaned forward, peering into the deep darkness that surrounded us.

Even with the high beams on, we moved sluggishly through the winding wilderness of central Oregon. The trees closed in around us, tall monstrous beasts that loomed even larger in the night. Their branches canopied us like long, twisted fingers. Through the crack in Shane’s window, I could hear the sound of the restless wind moaning. We cut through the darkness like it was unexplored jungle, carefully hacking our way into the moonlight.

“I understand,” he said, as we reached an area where the trees were less dense and we could finally see the moon. It hung in the sky, a sliver of gold punctuated by a few dim stars. But it was enough. We both relaxed.

Shane continued, “...I’m sure I look different, now. Do you remember Joe Garris?”

“Yes,” I answered.

Uncle Joe, as he was called by all of us, had owned Delilah’s Deli. He had been part of my mother’s coven and had been responsible for helping me and my sisters with some of our
lessons.
 

“Well, he was my Uncle. My biological Uncle. I would come down from Montana every year and spend the summers with him. I was that skinny boy with freckles and glasses. You girls used to come to the deli and we’d run around the tables after it closed.”