Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
The Believers gathered at the edge of the trail leading to Midnight Ridge, whispering about the dark evil that thrived in the forest. Some thought it was supernatural forces while others claimed the evil lived in the town as well, that there were devil worshippers in Mystic.
Each year, the week of the Day of the Dead, they celebrated the lives of their loved ones. Anytime someone died on the ridge, they coordinated a vigil ceremony to honor the lost one and ease their transition into heaven.
Faith’s best friend Ester had been leading the group for almost forty years.
Tonight the sorrow in Faith’s heart at the news of a dead teenager and her lost little girl couldn’t be comforted.
But she had to call upon her faith as Ester’s family had taught her.
She’d joined the Believers as a teen and loved the likeminded folks who fought demons every day with prayer and kindness.
Although her body was aging like a cheese that had sat too long, turning mushy and soft and covered with age spots like mold on that outdated cheese.
It was harder and harder each year for her to climb the mountain. Her bones creaked and rattled, her back throbbed and she needed a hip replacement. Worse, her heart was giving out and was too weak to handle surgery.
It would be her time soon. She couldn’t fight it.
All she could do was trust that one day she’d be entering the Pearly Gates to meet her maker.
Then she’d rest in peace knowing she’d done her best to spread kindness through the gospel.
Helping bring those lost back into the haven of God’s hand was her reward.
“We oughta cook some casseroles to carry to that poor Benton girl’s family,” Ester murmured. “I’ll be happy to spearhead it. And I’ll make my sweet potato pie.”
“That’d be great,” Faith said. Everybody in town knew Ester made the best sweet potato pie this side of the mountain.
“I can send out an email for sign-up,” Ester offered as she paused at the top of the ridge for a breath.
“You could, although you know a lot of the seniors in Mystic don’t have computers, much less emails.” Faith stopped and rubbed her aching hip. “Be best to just make phone calls.”
“All righty,” Ester said. “I’ll put it on the Believers chain.”
She and Ester had been best friends for years now and Faith always could depend on her.
“Let’s gather together now to commemorate all those who’ve gone before us,” Willamina, another of the Believers who usually was in charge of the Day of the Dead wall, said as she lifted her lantern.
She’d created a section in the church for people to bring pictures of their lost loved ones to celebrate their lives. Some called it the Wall of the Dead.
Faith knew she would be up there one day but she wasn’t quite ready yet.
The group began forming its circle and Faith and Ester and Willamina joined in. They went around the group, each Believer saying a short prayer for a loved one or friend who’d passed.
Faith had a long list but zipped through it then murmured, “Tonight we also lift Minnie Benton up for you, Lord. Please welcome her into your kingdom and help us find Minnie’s little girl.
We also want to support her parents, who must be suffering unbearably.
” Silently she added a prayer for Minnie’s child, that if she was gone, she’d be lifted as well.
Tomorrow she and Ester would organize the food then carry it to Minnie’s parents and pray with them.
Suddenly a tingle went up her spine. Not pain but the kind of feeling you got when you sensed someone watching you.
She jerked her eyes toward the woods and her breath caught as she spotted a pair of eyes peeking from behind a wide oak tree. A dark mask covered the person’s face and a black ski cap covered his head. Judging from his height and stature, it was a man.
Shivers tore through her. He was watching them, but she sensed he hadn’t come to join the vigil.
That he was pure evil.