A Voodoo Shop, a Zombie, and a Party, page 8
Gunnar and I sat in the car, waiting for Matt to go up and knock.
No one answered. He pounded on the door.
Gunnar and I exited my SUV.
“No one is home.” Matt checked the windows.
“No one been there since lunch. He packed up and flew out of here,” shouted an old man from the next slip over.
Calling what the old man lived in a house was generous; it was more a of wooden shack on a dock.
“Did you know the man?” I asked.
“No, but I know evil when it squats next door. I called the owner on him. He didn’t have permission to be there. I was fixing to call the cops, but then, he packed up and moved on.” The old man came closer. He wore overalls and a tattered undershirt and heavy rubber boots.
“Was he alone?” Matt asked.
The old man shrugged. “I didn’t see anyone else, but that man meant to harm people. I’m a Treater. I offered to cure him before I told him to get going, but he told me get lost. I spooked him good, and he left. No-good squatters.”
“I’m sorry, a Treater?” I asked.
“Healer. Local folk don’t trust doctors,” Gunnar said.
“Really?” I asked.
“Can’t fix it all, but I promise to do what I can. My gift.” He bowed and held up his hand.
“I’m good,” I lied.
“You got a black cloud on you, darlin’. I can’t lift it, but I can help.” He put his hands on my head. “Faith. Courage. Creativity. That is your formula. You have the first two plenty.”
“So, I have to be more creative?” I asked.
“Bad guys aren’t always dumb.” The Treater grinned and showed that he’d missed his dental checks for the last decade.
“This guy that was squatting here. Did you see him with some teenage girls?” Matt asked.
“No, but I knew I felt other beings with him. I thought maybe he was smuggling people. Illegals get in, but that guy didn’t look like a coyote. Human traffickers take people out. The water is hard to police. Let that new president build a wall in my bayou. The gators will feast on him.” The Treater laughed.
“Any idea where he was going?” I asked.
“Nah. He’s a smart one. Keeps moving. One of those creepy vans with no windows. That should’ve tipped me off he was a perv with kids. If he comes back, I swear I’ll whack him with my bat and then feed him to the bayou.” Treater nodded.
“I’d rather you called me. You’ve got a name, friend?” Matt asked.
The Treater tapped my shoulder and pointed. “You’ve got a shadow.”
I turned quick. My stalker had caught up to me. He was in his car watching, but I felt vulnerable. He was too near, and there was no safe place to go. I’d had people out to kill me in the past but never one so calm and emotionless about it. He was like a man on a mission without feeling or thought. A robot. That was why I couldn’t reason with him or argue with him. Hopefully, technology never does rise up to take over humanity, because I’d be screwed.
I started to bolt for the car, but the dock was slick, and I slipped, falling backward.
Gunnar grabbed me by the waist and hauled me against him. “Careful.”
“I’m not very good at being careful in this case,” I said.
“Want me to talk to him?” Matt asked.
“No, it’ll just tip him off that we know he’s more than a stalker. I’ve got a zombie out to kill me.”
The Treater made some bizarre gestures and noises that resembled a man possessed with a scraggily beard and at least five hoops pierced into one ear lobe. The frail old man waved his arms and shouted words that meant nothing to me. He whooped and hollered then spun around three times.
The stalker sped off.
“Thanks!” I said.
“My land, my rules. He’s got to respect that no matter what his master says.” The Treater winked at me. “Get rid of that zombie. It won’t help you find the girls.”
“Someone just needs to tell me how,” I said.
“Kill the master.” The Treater shrugged.
“I’d prefer to get rid of him without killing someone,” I added.
“Fine, find the master. Confront him. The curse satchel can be destroyed and then, you can bully the master into calling off the zombie. Or you can always kill the zombie,” he said.
“Slow down on killing people, okay?” Matt said and handed the Treater a card.
The Treater read the card. “Just joking about the killing people. Police understand jokes. I was simply illustrating how hard it is to remove that sort of magic without access to the source.”
“Sure,” Matt said.
The old man moved swiftly back to his house. Part of me was curious to know more about his work. Part of me wanted to go home and forget about my second failure.
“Should we have paid him?” I asked. “I mean, he didn’t actually heal me, but he gave advice.”
Gunnar shook his head. “A true Treater never accepts payment. It’s their gift to help others and their blessing to do it.”
“I’ve met plenty who take money for it,” Matt said.
“Tell the locals in that area on the bayou and they’ll get run out of town. That’s an affront,” Gunnar said.
“How Cajun are you?” I asked Gunnar.
“Totally Cajun. I had family that grew up in the swamp. Treaters work if you believe.” Gunnar sighed. “Home?”
“Where else?” I rubbed my neck.
“Call if you get anything else,” Matt said.
“Your faith is astonishing,” I replied.
“Your history speaks for you. One rough patch can’t change that.” He smiled at me.
“Thanks.” I still couldn’t stand up straight. My shoulder slump was beginning to feel permanent.
“Sleep will help,” Gunnar said.
“If this guy keeps moving this much, I don’t see how,” I admitted.
“Get creative.” Gunnar started up my SUV and peeled out of the bayou.
Chapter Nine
My dreams were mostly about dolls and driving around in circles. I pushed away visions of top hats and skulls. When I splashed face first in the bayou, I woke up gasping for air.
Tish hissed and scrambled for the door.
I grabbed my phone and called Matt. It wasn’t me who had been tossed in the water.
He answered the phone.
“We have to go back where we were today. He dumped one of the girls in the water,” I said.
“Why would he go back there?” Matt asked.
“He knows we’re a step behind him. He doesn’t think we’d buy him backtracking to somewhere we’d just searched. Maybe he has a friend watching it and knows it’s not under surveillance. He thinks she’ll be dead before we find her because we’re searching elsewhere. You need a boat, divers, and a big spotlight. I’ll meet you there.”
“No. I’ll pick you up on the way. Be out front in a few minutes,” he said.
“Okay.” Sometimes, I forgot Matt still lived at the big family mansion his mother reigned over. He was so not normal for a filthy rich guy; it wasn’t like he had to work, but I wasn’t born to this rich family dynasty crap, either. Here we were serving the public good in the middle of the night.
I threw on clothes, grabbed my purse, a bottle of water, and jacket. As I tried to walk quietly down the hall, Pearl gave me away with her yipping.
“What?” Ivy asked, sticking her head out of her bedroom with a yawn.
“I found one of the girls and we have to find her before she dies. I’ll be with Matt. I’m fine,” I said.
“Take Greg,” she said.
“No, go back to sleep. I won’t be able to rest until we’ve found the girls,” I said.
She nodded.
I went downstairs and slipped past the zombie who’d fallen asleep in his car. I hopped in Matt’s waiting car, and we were off.
With lights and sirens blaring, I wanted my seasickness pills, but we arrived in a third of the time it would have normally taken. There was a boat in the water between the Treater’s shack and the abandoned houseboat with a spotlight. And a few squad cars were parked near the house we’d searched earlier.
Matt parked and we got out.
“Anything?” he asked
“Not yet,” someone shouted back.
“Got a direction?” Matt asked.
They were too far east. “Back this way. The current is pulling her this way,” I said.
“Other way. I want the heat detectors over here, now!” Matt ordered.
A female officer was pointing a tool that looked like a gun at the water. She swept it methodically back and forth in a grid pattern.
We stood there and waited as the cold night air bit into our skin. I’d never been cold in New Orleans until tonight. The wind was whipping. It wasn’t Chicago cold, but my light jacket wasn’t cutting the midnight air. That poor girl in the water. I shivered in sympathy.
“Got her!” called the female officer running the heat seeking machine.
“Light! Divers!” Matt yelled.
An ambulance pulled up just as the divers located a form bobbing in the chilly water.
Gunnar drove in and parked after the ambulance.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Ivy texted me that you were working again. I thought I should be here.” He shrugged.
“You don’t have to give up your sleep,” I said.
“I was here for the chase. I want to see a rescue,” he said.
That I understood.
I approached as the divers handed her up on the dock to the paramedics.
“It’s Kimmie. She’s barely breathing,” Matt said.
“She’s strong,” I said.
“Your tail is back,” Gunnar said, jerking his head over his shoulder at a now-familiar parked car.
“He was asleep behind the wheel when I left the mansion. How did he find me here?” I asked.
Gunnar sighed. “He’s got the whammy on you.”
The paramedics loaded Kimmie quickly and drove off at top speed. The police were wrapping up their work, putting away their equipment.
“Let’s find out.” I walked up to his car and banged on the window. I was sick of wondering and worrying. Sick of feeling weak. “Get out here.”
“Deanna!” Gunnar shouted.
The zombie flung open the rusty red door on his old sedan and walked out without a word.
He stalked up to me and tried to grab my arm. The contact flared some connection. He was human and he was in there. He feared us. He feared failing. He was a ball of anxiety and inner demons. He was tormented by loud noises and PTSD.
Gunnar shoved the guy back. The two men wrestled for a bit, and the zombie seemed to be getting the upper hand. I nearly shouted for Gunnar to stop. There was nothing to be gained by those two fighting it out. The zombie’s strength was impressive.
Before I could figure out what to say to stop them, Matt charged over. “Break it up. You want to go to jail?”
“Fire your pistol,” I said.
“What?” Matt asked.
“Fire it. In the air, in the ground. The noise will do it,” I said.
Matt fired into the soft ground three times.
The zombie screamed and staggered back. He was torn between retreating, which the human in him wanted, and completing his mission.
Gunnar took advantage of the pause and punched him in the face. The zombie reared back like he was going to punch Gunnar in return.
I grabbed the doll from my purse and twisted an arm hard.
The zombie howled and jumped back into his car. Driving with his other hand, he fled the scene.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
Gunnar nodded. “He’s strong. Abnormally strong. But the doll worked. He didn’t like the sound of gunfire much, either.”
“Yeah, weird. Look, I need to get to the hospital. Come on, De. Gunnar, you can go home. I’ll get her back safe and sound. I think that zombie is done for today.” Matt nudged me toward his car.
“She doesn’t need to go to the hospital. She needs to sleep,” Gunnar countered.
“Stop, I’m going to the hospital. I’ve had enough screw-ups. I want to see that the girl is okay.” I patted Gunnar’s shoulder. “Get some sleep. I’ll need you later.”
He nodded. “Watch your back,” he said.
At the hospital, Kimmie’s mother, Mrs. Richards, cried happy tears. That was nice to see. Kimmie was on oxygen with an IV in her arm and monitor patches all over her, including that oxygen thing clipped to a finger. The girl was moaning and restless, but who wouldn’t be after being dumped in the bayou?
“We need to take off her wet things and get her warm. Please, we need a bit of privacy,” a nurse said.
We stepped into the hall as they drew the privacy drape and ran into Dr. Brimlow, who was on duty in the ER. I couldn’t get away from this guy.
“How is she?” I asked.
“Bad but in a weird way. She’s not beaten or bruised. She’s shaking.” The doctor waved us behind the privacy drape and continued assessing her.
“The cold water,” her mom said.
“That’s part of it, but her kidnapper was also drugging the girls. Not feeding them properly. They had alcohol to drink, but he was shooting them up,” I explained.
“How would you know?” Brimlow asked.
“I see things and know things. Demons and stuff,” I said.
“Right.” After searching Kimmie’s arms, he found needle marks. “There are marks here, indicating Kimmie was injected with something. Any idea what he was giving them?”
I shook my head. “But he wasn’t feeding the girls. She needs food—that’s part of why she’s so weak. She might have alcohol poisoning, too.”
“Tox screen, CBC, BA, start her on a vitamin supplement in her IV fluids and order a meal replacement shake up here from dietary. We’ll see if she can drink that but I don’t want her to choke on anything while she’s in this shaky stage. We’ll detox her, but first, we need to know what she’s got in her system. We’ll get her an ICU bed for now, but once we know the drugs, we’ll be able to get her to a step-down floor with a monitored bed. She’s breathing on her own, but I want her watched closely.” The doc finished his orders, and the nurse took off from the private area to get them started.
Mrs. Richards nodded and held her daughter’s hand. “What about the other girls, Dr. Oscar? Do you see them?”
I shrugged. “I don’t see them being dumped anywhere. They’re still his captives. I’m not seeing any improvement or change in how they’re being treated. I don’t know why he dumped Kimmie in the water. He didn’t do that to the others.”
Machines started beeping.
“Out, everyone. We need to put in a central line to get some meds in faster. Her BP is falling,” the doc said sharply.
We all rushed out and waited.
A few minutes later, the doc walked out. “You can come back in. We just needed a more direct way to get a lot of meds in her fast. She’ll need antibiotics, fluids, meds to help stabilize her blood pressure right now. It’ll be easier when we know what we’re dealing with, but her heart has had some strain on it. Most drugs will do that. The infection of some of the injection sites is bad, so we’ll need to have wound care look at them, as well as IV antibiotics to treat the infection.”
Matt and I went back in briefly to speak to Mrs. Richards. She didn’t want to leave her daughter alone and I understood that.
“My pretty baby. That monster needs to be caught. Strung up.” Mrs. Richards jaw clenched.
“I’m doing my best. I couldn’t agree with you more. I’ll let you spend some time with her. I’ll visit tomorrow, if that’s okay.” I put my hand on Kimmie’s foot.
“She’s not going anywhere for a few days. Probably a week in cardiac IMCU.” The doc nodded.
I wasn’t fully listening to anyone. I hated when people talked over each other. The doctor talked about prognosis as Mrs. Richards thanked me and said to come by any time. What I felt was the unspoken pressure to find the bad guy and save the other girls.
“You okay, Deanna?” Matt asked.
I touched Kimmie’s bare foot again. It was still a bit slimy from the bayou water, but the connection to her helped me connect to her friends even better. “I know where the other girls are. They’re alive.” I stared at Matt. “And this girl needs a sponge bath.”
“Okay, we’re on it. Come on. Might see you later, Doc.” Matt was already on his phone and calling for backup and SWAT as we jogged to the elevators.
I had to be right this time. These girls couldn’t die.
Chapter Ten
“You’re sure this time?” Matt asked.
I nodded. “The zombie’s in pain. His presence and the curse cloud my abilities. Having the zombie temporarily out of commission gave me a window. It’s like a section of my powers became clear again. It won’t last forever.”
“When we get these girls safe, we’ll figure out who cursed you. You can’t keep living like this,” he said.
I could blame the spider bite for my physical issues. It was the reason I was tired and achy. But my powers were being muddled by the curse. I was being stalked by a zombie programmed to kill. My life was a B horror movie.
“I probably should’ve gone for his leg instead of his arm,” I said.
“You should’ve tossed him in the bayou and let the gators feast,” Matt replied.
“That’s not nice,” I said. “You said as much to the Treater.”
“He’s trying to kill you. Nice isn’t an option. And a man weak-minded enough to serve another and blindly obey—those are the most dangerous fools of all. Mind control and all that. He might as well be in a cult. At least then, he wouldn’t be attacking people. How do I arrest him? What has he done yet but follow you? He doesn’t seem like you can reason with him,” Matt ranted.
“What about that lady who ran the cult with all the snakes? She hated me.” I had racked up some enemies, but many of them were dead. Whoever was behind this zombie and curse had to be alive, have a grudge against me, and be powerful.
“You think she’d wait this long to curse you? If she had the power, she’d have done it right away,” Matt scoffed.
