Chapter 2 #2
He nodded and pulled down a clean glass, filling it with ice as she appraised him.
He had light brown eyes and a slim, almost lanky build, and as he turned to fill the glass, she noticed a small four-leaf clover tattooed on his neck.
His hair was overgrown, resting on the collar of his dark shirt, which was unbuttoned at the throat and revealed a small St Christopher medal on a delicate silver chain.
“You local then?” Adam asked as he slid the fresh glass in front of her and cleared away the empty.
“Yeah.” For now, she thought as she dusted the breadcrumbs from her fingers then stacking her empty bowl on top of the bread plate. “I’m up at the lake.”
“Evie’s place?” He looked up in surprise as he wiped the counter.
“She was my great aunt.”
“Sorry to hear about her death.” Adam shook his head. “I only met her a few times, but I liked her.”
“Thanks,” Olivia muttered, not really wanting to talk about her great aunt. “How about you?”
“Sorry?”
“You from around here?” she asked curiously.
“All over, but Ulysses, Kansas, originally.” He continued to wipe down the bar. “Decided to travel some, landed in Mercy about six months back.”
“Hey, Adam.” An attractive redhead slung an empty tray down on the bar with a wink. “Jack and coke, a cab and two pints.”
He nodded and turned to grab a glass, but his gaze remained locked on the redhead as she continued to smile invitingly at him.
Olivia sat quietly sipping her soda as her gaze began to wander across the busy pub.
It was a warm and inviting place, with dark polished wood trims, almond-colored walls, and a battered honey-colored wood floor.
Irish music played softly in the background, something complicated involving pipes and a fiddle that had Olivia tapping her foot without even realizing it.
“Good God, the man’s a menace.” Jackson swung back through the doors and ducked under the bar.
“Crisis averted?” Olivia asked.
“Of a kind.” He rolled his eyes. “Can I get you anything else?”
“No, thanks.” She shook her head. “I really should be heading back. I still have a lot of Evie’s things to sort through.” She stood and brushed the crumbs from her jeans, reaching into her purse for her wallet.
“It’s on the house.” Jackson stopped her. “Welcome home, Olivia.”
Olivia stood motionless for a heartbeat as she took in his sincere gaze and genuine smile. She felt the simple warmth of an honest welcome with no ulterior judgement. Maybe she was wrong, she mused silently. Maybe coming back to Mercy wouldn’t be as bad as she thought.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“Now don’t you be a stranger,” Jackson told her.
“I won’t.” She glanced across to Adam. “Bye, Adam.”
He raised a hand in silent farewell as both he and Jackson watched her walk out the door.
“She seems… guarded,” Jackson mused thoughtfully. “And a little lost.”
Shelley appeared beside them and dropped her empty tray on the bar, glancing back at the door. “I’ve gotta tell you,” she said in disbelief, “I never thought I’d see the day Olivia West walked back into town.”
“What makes you say that?” Jackson asked curiously.
“Well, after everything that happened with her parents,” she replied, frowning silently at Jackson’s blank look. “Really, Jackson, you’ve been here, what ten years, and you don’t know about the Wests?”
He shrugged his shoulders in bemusement.
“Olivia West and her parents are practically an urban legend in this town,” Shelley told him. “About twenty years ago, her daddy murdered her mama and his mama-in-law, Olivia’s grandmother, who also happened to be Evie’s twin sister.”
“Is that so?” Jackson replied in interest.
Shelley nodded. “Stabbed them both to death right out of the blue. Just snapped apparently. He taught history at Mercy High; Josie was in one of his classes. She said he never seemed the type, he was so nice.”
“That’s what they say about most serial killers,” Adam snorted as he leaned on the bar. “The truth is you never know what goes on behind closed doors.”
There was something in his voice, a hint of bitterness that had Jackson narrowing his eyes as he studied his young bartender.
“I suppose,” Shelley murmured. “Anyway, word is, when he realized what he’d done, he burned down the house with the bodies inside.
Then he took Olivia, who was only a little kid at the time, and ran.
Got as far as Boston, or it might’ve been Phillly, before the cops picked him up.
I don’t know what happened to either of them after that, but there was a lot of gossip going around Mercy at the time. ”
“How come I’m only just hearing about this?” Jackson replied in surprise. “I like to think I knew Evie quite well.”
“Well, people were encouraged to keep their mouths shut.” Shelley shrugged.
“Encouraged?” Jackson’s eyes narrowed.
“Let’s just say, bad things had a way of happening to people who gossiped about the Wests after that,” Shelley said pointedly.
“And yet here you are running your mouth,” Adam grunted, shaking his head dismissively as he began to unload the fresh glasses from the dishwasher. “This town and its superstitions. Bad shit happens, it’s as simple as that.”
“It’s not superstition.” Shelley’s eyes narrowed in warning. “And if you’d been raised in this town, you’d know that. After all, it was founded by the survivors of Salem, and the Wests are the oldest family in town.”
“Witchcraft?” Adam smirked. “Seriously, you don’t actually buy into that crap, do you?”
“I know enough to keep my mouth shut.” Shelley’s eyes narrowed.
“Then why are you flapping it now?” he asked. “If bad things are supposed to happen.” His eyes widened, and he held his hands up and wiggled his fingers as if some spooky curse was about to descend upon them.
“Evie’s not here anymore, is she?” Shelley snapped.
“You’re so full of shit,” Adam snorted. “Save it for the tourists, Shel. I ain’t buying any of that crap you’re pedaling. There’s no such thing as witchcraft.”
“It would serve you right if something bad happens to you,” she hissed as she snatched up the tray and sailed through the door into the kitchen.
“You certainly have a way with women, Adam.” Jackson chuckled.
“Don’t tell me you actually believe in all that witch crap?” Adam frowned.
“You forget I’m from Ireland, land of magic and myth.” Jackson shrugged. “I was practically bottle fed that ‘witch crap’ from the cradle. Besides, what does it matter what the locals believe? We cast no stones here.”
Adam grunted noncommittedly before moving further down the bar to serve a waiting customer, leaving Jackson to release a slow, resigned breath. He had a feeling it was just going to be one of those nights.
* * *
Olivia stepped out of the pub into the crisp night air and shivered, pulling her jacket closer around her body. The temperature had dropped rapidly while she’d been inside, And the wind had also picked up, whipping her hair into her eyes as she headed toward her car.
She wasn’t sure what made her look up, but as the heavy clouds parted to reveal the full moon, she noticed an ominous, hazy red ring encircling it. Another chill rippled down her spine, and this time it had nothing to do with the temperature.
Feeling uneasy, she quickened her pace, but an uncomfortable prickling sensation settled between her shoulder blades, causing her to pause and glance behind her. It took a moment for her to see him at first, standing in the shadow of the building she’d just exited.
The stranger was leaning against the wall watching her with brazen interest. There was nothing overtly threatening about him, but the deeper instinct Olivia had learned to trust over the years, set warning bells ringing in her mind.
His clothes were dark and nondescript, allowing him to almost blend into the shadows, but his blond hair was so pale it appeared almost white. Everything about him felt unsettling.
Ignoring his penetrating gaze she turned and hurried to her car, unease trickled down her spine, causing a cool, clammy sweat to pool in the hollow of her throat.
In her haste she fumbled the keys in the lock on the first attempt and then released a breath of relief when the door opened.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, she locked the door behind her and tossed her purse onto the seat beside her.
She reversed out and eased onto the road, and when she checked her rearview mirror, the was stranger nowhere in sight.
* * *
Sighing with relief, Adam shrugged into his jacket. It had been a long night, and he was ready to crash. His gaze scanned the now quiet pub and landed on his boss stacking stools on top of the tables.
“I’m off, Jackson.” He caught his attention. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jackson waved him off with an absent gesture and Adam headed out of the back entrance into the parking lot.
He pulled the collar of his jacket up against the biting wind and tucked his head down.
In his pocket, his fingers curled around his keys, and he caught sight of the old red car parked opposite him.
It wasn’t much to look at, but it was all his.
Unlocking the car, he pulled open the door, not noticing the sudden movement behind him until it was too late.
A quick, violent shove caught him off balance, and he pitched forward, slamming his head against the top of the doorframe and leaving a bright smear of blood against the rusted metal.
His keys dropped from his lax fingers as he slumped to the ground, and all he could feel was the crunch of the dirty gravel beneath him before the blackness took him.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he caught snatches of color and sound as he fought to regain consciousness. He thought he heard a car door slam shut, the low hum of an engine, and then a short time later the roar of the wind through a huge canopy of trees before it was gone again.
The first thing to jerk him back into awareness was the agonizing pain in his shoulders, then a stray twig scratching his skin and digging into his back.
The scent of wet leaves filled his nostrils as he was dragged along the ground, snatches of the cold, pale moon flashing amongst the bare branches.
Finally, the person dragging him through the forest came to a halt, and his bound hands were dropped carelessly to the ground with a muted thud.
He blinked rapidly to clear his vision, his mind still wrapped in a hazy fog, but it was too dark to make out his location.
All he saw was that he was somewhere in the woods.
A faceless figure appeared above him, and he tried desperately to shuffle away, croaking out a rough call for help. The next thing he knew was the sole of a boot hovering above his face before the blackness took him again.
The next time he came to, Adam found himself surrounded by a dim circle of light.
Trying to swallow through parched lips, he tasted the metallic tang of blood.
He shifted against the damp ground, trying to move his arms and legs, but an intense agony seared through his limbs robbing him of any breath with which to cry out.
He panted through the pain, trying to lift his head, and as his eyes began to adjust to the pale glow, he realized he was encircled by several squat black candles, their flames coughing and spluttering in the fine, misty drizzle.
Every single nerve in his body sang sharply in agony, lifting his head just enough he looked down at his body and his eyes widened in horror.
His wrists and ankles may only have been bound with rope, but what made the bile rise in his throat were the four cruel-looking meat hooks that had been speared mercilessly through his biceps and calves and staked deep into the muddy ground, pinning him by his own speared flesh.
He cried out, hoping his voice would carry through the deserted woods, that someone would help him. His heart began to hammer in fear as he watched a dark figure step into the small circle of light.
“Please,” Adam croaked.
The figure began to murmur indecipherable words and phrases. Suddenly, Adam felt wet, rancid smelling fur brush against the side of his face, followed by a low and menacing growl, but when he turned his head in fear, there was nothing there.
The figure stepped closer, still murmuring, and the air felt different, charged with static electricity and heavy with the scent of ozone.
The murmuring grew louder, and as the figure moved closer still, hands outstretched, hovering above his body, a strange glowing nimbus appeared.
The pain intensified to a searing white-hot agony he’d never experienced, and the scream that tore from his throat was shockingly animal-like.
His skin split, sliced from his forehead down through his face, down his throat and torso, a continuous unbroken line all the way to his groin.
Similar wounds split the flesh of his arms and legs with surgical-like precision, burning and searing in its wake as the warmth of his blood saturated his torn clothes.
His vision dimmed, world narrowing as everything began to fade, but he became aware of a huge black dog hunched over him, growling.
Standing nearly as tall as a man, its ears were long and pointed, almost Egyptian-like.
Filthy, matted black fur hung in strips, revealing raw patches of flesh hanging from its skeletal ribcage.
Its eyes were white and dead looking, and its razor-sharp teeth pulled into a vicious snarl.
Its face was gaunt like a corpse, and as it gave a wet growl low in its throat, a thin thread of drool trailed from its bony jaw.
Adam opened his mouth to scream but the only sound that came was a wet gurgling as the blood forced its way up his throat and flooded his mouth. He felt a tearing wrench accompanied by the loud splintering of breaking bones, and this time when the darkness took him, he welcomed it.