My Love, My Hate, And My Voodoo Murders

By John Leader

Anne Harold sells the printed material on freelance and contractual bases. She sees good money in The Big Easy, a place visited by the famous and rich, but more important where rumor abound about strange murders and a phantom killer, supernatural tones she thinks, but if she can find an angle and contract with some of the newspapers she will collect for her efforts. Of course she must beat out the competition and get the copy out first to create effective and valuable print. Her love life has been on hold as she sits, reads, and drinks coffee at one of the cafés frequented by tourist, Café Du Monde, famous for its beignets. She invites a young man looking for a place to devour his bag of beignets to sit at her table and contracts him for dangerous work. As they each find out the two are more than just visiting tourists.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Leader
• Release date: Nov 10, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311059901

John Leader

John Leader enjoys writing science fiction, his first choice. He writes horror just as well. He works using commercial arts techniques and creates his own book covers. His science fiction stories take on action adventure themes.He reads general and technical magazines and books when he can find good materials.He is a part time martial arts practitioner and is familiar with a variety of defense systems.

Book preview

My Love, My Hate, and My Voodoo Murders

by

John Leader

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2014 John Leader

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Titles by John Leader:

Fiction eBooks and Stories:

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Ebook - Blood Grip Against The Land

Ebook - Sankor Sangres: Mercenary For Hire

Ebook - Space Retriever Mike Long

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Short Stories: Courage For Profit (Sample)

Four Short Stories – Space Warrior 60,400.111102

Six Short Stories – Space Warrior 60,400.111103

Six Short Stories - Space Warrior AD: BOOK IV

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Horror: The Horror Of Skull Face

Humor: Alien Jokes / Joke To Joke

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Children’s Books:

My Green Potato Monster

The Strange Stories Of Mr. Murkadew

The Eye Q Game

Non-Fiction Books:

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Brainy Kids Book I: Pre-K Activities

Brainy Kids BOOK II: Pre-K Activities

Brainy Kids Book III: Pre-K Activities

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Pre-K Puppets: Illustrated

Quick Arts And Crafts

Simple Counting: Bulldozers

Simple Counting: Monkeys

Pomes for Little Children

What A Letter Says

About The Author: https://www.smashwords.com/interview/JohnLeader

Email: [e-mail]

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Note: During the writing of this story this author experienced strange phenomena. (Equipment failure, electrical failure, and sounds that came from nowhere including rapping on the house wall?)

Some believe; some do not.

Warning: Do Not Read At Midnight!

My Love, My Hate, and My Voodoo Murders

By

John Leader

Contents

Chapter

One

Chapter

Two

Chapter

Three

Chapter

Four

Chapter

Five

Chapter

Six

Chapter

Seven

Chapter

Eight

Chapter

Nine

Chapter

Ten

Chapter

Eleven

Chapter

Twelve

My Love, My Hate, and My Voodoo Murders

by

John Leader

Chapter

One

The bloody twisted scene gathered police and sheriff officers close in and around the massacred campers. Several state troopers stared at the bloody bodies, shredded drying flesh covered with buzzing flies and fat flesh eating insects. Lake Pontchartrain lay several miles form the wooded trail, colored leaves covered the crime scene, multiple dirt patched sections dotted the forest with dry limbs that stood within eye reach of the dying forest. The pouring hot rays of the sun fell where they could, portions of the forest ground stood totally dark from the blocked effect of the high standing multiple trees towering over the area creating varying shades of dark shadowy spots difficult to see inside of the desolate thick forest.

The Voodoo Queen Rebecca May Jones spoke quiet clear after the first murders were discovered. The first bloody deaths had appeared days after a Gulf Coast hurricane devastated the coast along the Texas-Louisiana coast and the other touching states laying in its path. The older voodoo leaders in the area feared that the coastal hurricane had destroyed the evil one’s resting place. The evil one had been entombed in a well hidden secret place, some said, where slaves, some whites, had been buried. Few earthly signs marked a small clearing where voodoo or cult members gathered, a large shadowy smoky black soot extinguished fire pit stood in the brown grassy center, dried grass, shrubs, and scattered tree limbs littered the outskirts of the circle where the group had gathered. Inside the almost hidden patchy circle one could see markings where cult members sat or stood, an uneven rocky landscape painted the ritual area where musicians, more likely drum beaters sat marking chants, beating traditional ritual rhythms of unknown origin, some with ancient roots probably led back to Haiti and West Africa. The local Creoles and Cajun inhabitants understood the meaning of drum beats and chants heard at night. Definably with a Creole fiery flavor, the rhythmic skin covered and wooden drums sounded a hard beat, strong and chilling deep down into human bones. One could almost feel the cracking of ones bones as one listened.

The hurricane that came smashed the only protective levy allowing the destructive rushing waters to sweep away numerous graves. It was more than fate that pronounced rise to the one evil spirit, one of the animas of the dark deep universe. Once revived and loosed from its prison with the help of the natural elements it was given powerful demonic life. It could control all natural elements and force the animist spirits to flood the land creating deadly devastation from wayward natural forces under its command as it sent high hurricane winds and forceful flow of gulf waters against the land and its people. Queen Rebecca May Jones, an elderly experienced voodoo priestess and well known in the voodoo community, warned that the spirit of the hurricane was under the control and domination of the evil one. She warned that the destructive hurricane was formed from an evil occurrence and bloomed from beyond the natural world.

She spoke clear, the amulets and talismans holding the evil one at bay were destroyed. ‘It’, is set free to kill, and destroy, and it will harm the people, the land, no innocent is safe against this unleashed great evil. Unless it is stopped, the land will come to feel and fear ‘It’, and all manner of human blood will soak the land.

All the people at the camp site except one small boy were discovered dead in an unnatural way. The half crazed young boy, marked with a boney bloody hand print on his cheek, kept pointing his frail muddy hand saying in difficult horrified trembling speech, the blood hand, it has no meat, no nails, it rips them, the police said the small boy went insane from witnessing the horrors.

A single lone bloody dead body, a tourist some said, was later discovered that day in the French Quarter, his manner of death similar to the dead campers. Retailers from the French Quarter and bars kept reporting a peculiar shadowy black caped figure rounding the corners early at dusk. No other description followed, but a thinning blood trail from the murderous site led off into and then away from Bourbon Street in the French Quarters and ended at one of the city block corners. The detectives investigating found no useful clues or possible criminal tracks. They gathered details, contrary and conflicted, mixed with confusing answers from confused nervous witnesses. It was as if a mysterious hidden force cloaked the truth.

David Eagleton and Annie Harold both traveled separately to New Orleans, The Big Easy, located in the southern gulf coast area. Annie had picked up the news about more weird murders. As a freelance investigative reporter she felt this might push her career into the lime light and better pay. She traveled alone in a small rental, a Corolla, with expectations of finding a smaller gas saver in New Orleans or the closest city with one. As a single vivacious woman, she worked hard, struggled from job to job, but was astute enough to make enough money from her unique copy depending on the mood of the chief editors. Each job helped her save a percent in her saving account and she was getting ready to purchase some higher end stocks.

David walked the streets of New Orleans site seeing and learning about the history around him. He was out of the military, taking a rest before he decided whether to reenlist. The marines listed him as a sergeant with Special Forces and offered him another promotion if he reenlisted, the additional pay drew his attention. His experience in dangerous hot combat paused his thinking, bad verses good points, a steady pay check, good. He liked the daily military routine, but his first combat encounter gave him a bad taste, the second lieutenant failed to follow military protocols causing machinegun and mortar fire to kill several of his friends.. Then again he liked the idea of being there for his country. His buddies always counted on him in combat and he was a strong leader, and, excellent when training new recruits.

The mid-afternoon sun reminded David it was snack time and he headed to Café du Monde for beignets. His hotel room in the mist of the French Quarter remained a great tourist attraction. The lapidaries boutiques located within became one of his favorite stops. The street and sidewalk traffic bloomed as he walked up to the counter to place his order of six beignets and a large strong hot coffee. All the tables were occupied and he figured one would show up while he placed his order. Just in case, he requested the order to go. The café buzzed with voices, a baby screaming, and his eyes glanced easily through the mullion type French windows at the tables outside under the shaded cover and open to the busy street, traffic flowing in both directions. One of the tables opened up but just as quickly a family of four filled it like hungry ants smelling out confectioned and electuary flavors.

The counter clerk stepped opposite David facing him, "Your order, Sir.

David turned, reached for his wallet and pulled out a twenty dollar bill, He you are. Where’s the cream and sugar?

The clerk pointed to a trashy counter, Right over there, sir.

David quickly clicked over the several paces to the green and white preparation counter, finished quickly, turned and paced around looking for a free table, he wanted a bite of the warm beignets. He stood in the middle of the crowed metal tables, a chair screeched grabbing his attention for an instant. He calmly walked closer to the sidewalk, moved several tables over, all the tables reverberated with active munching patrons. Behind him a fresh young good looking woman sat reading a newspaper, hot coffee her company, and other printed material lay neatly stacked to her right on the café table.

Why don’t you sit here? I have room for your beignets and coffee, Annie Harold eyed David. He looked like a lost puppy and like a kid salivating in an adult candy store.

Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude on you, mam, his voice courteous.

Not at all, Annie replied as she pointed with her left hand to an open white chair across from her,

Much thanks, mam, David said as he sat. He placed his coffee on the table, opened the bag with beignets and turned the opened side toward Annie.

Would you like one? I’ve got six. More than enough to share. he smiled and took a sip of the steaming coffee.

I’ll take one, she said as she pulled a napkin from the rectangular chrome box shaped dispenser and placed the sugar powdered beignets on it, she grasped her coffee placing it closer to the confectionery delight.

Oh, my name is David Eagleton, he held his right hand out with a smile.

She cleaned her hand with a new napkin and extended her hand and spoke as they made the social connection. As they shook hands Annie felt a steady strength and confident expression.

"I’m Annie, Annie Harold. Hey, this beignets is pretty good! What did you say your name was, a, Dave Eagleton?

It’s David, David Eagleton, Mrs. Harold.

It Miss not Mrs., Too busy working to slow down, you know. Everybody’s got to make a living."

What do you do? David turned his head and focused on one stack of papers, then the leaflets, newspapers, and other tourist collection of flyers and booklets.

"I’m a freelance write, well, more of an investigative reporter than book writer. What about yourself? Are you on vacation or what, Mr. Eagleton?

Oh, no and yes, and you can call me David. I’m staying at the hotel across from Jackson square. Just a day or two, maybe, I’ll go for a third day. I work security type jobs. I tried working as a bouncer, but I didn’t like it. I prefer doing private security jobs. Sometimes I escort guys with money. One time a guy had to sell some jewels down on Bourbon Street. He got into a black SUV, left the door open, and then stepped out. He looked at me and said, Let’s go to the bank, He gave me a brown paper sack. It was filled with a stack of paper money. All hundreds. I quickly stuck it in my coat. It was like walking on egg shells all the way to the bank. I drove by way of the police station, David took a large bite of the sugar powdered beignet, chewed, and took coffee, a most rewarding and favorable taste.

Annie sat chewing on the beignet and sipped her coffee. She looked at David. This guy could tell some whoppers, then again, there was always some truth to every story and copy to be written about it.

Well, that sounds exciting. I do a lot of foot work. You know, chase down information hoping it pays the bills, She picked up one of the newspapers detailing the camp murders in the area somewhere close to Panchchortrain Lake. All she knew it was a huge lake with big fish.

Did you read about the murdered campers? The surviving boy is somewhere in a mental hospital. I’ve been following roomers about a cult. Perhaps they have something to do with the brutal murders.

I don’t know about that. But, yes I head about it on the TV. It seemed like some psycho is running loose, David continued eating his beignet, the coffee buzzing hot.

He had just visited a buddy of his in El Paso, Texas and had always wanted to visit New Orleans. On his trip he bought a Texas Two-Step lottery ticket in a small town near Waco, Texas. To his mouth gaping surprise he won $155, 000 dollars. Not to sure how to collect or who to trust he drove straight to Austin, Texas to collect his winnings. That alone paused his thinking about reenlisting, but he was not one to sit idle. He worked out at several of the more exclusive physical fitness gyms and it was there that one of the patrons was searching for a security guy to help with a private political function. One area of the festivities would be open to the public in general. As it turned out David ended up in charge of all the security detail and collect a sizeable chunk of change, not as much as the lotto, but good money. As he sat he continued the chat with Annie. She was better looking than most depending on your likes and dislikes. Although David had met better looking women something about her manner, her composure, her speech, caught his eye. He was always fishing for work and pulled out his card.

This is my business card. If you know anyone that needs private security mention my name. I can provide reference if they want’m, David stood, picked up his bag of beignet, snatch his coffee, "I’d better be going or I’ll be late for the Mississippi River ride.

Annie jerked his card in her small purse and continued reading several more newspaper she bought earlier at one of the newsstands. They all carried some kind of murderous mayhem, mysterious, with no knowledge of the killer or killers. A map of the area sat on the table waiting for her to plot out a planned trip. She kept reading and checking the map. She marked red Xs on the map and found that the murders were close to one another, not more than a mile or two, not much of a pattern, but she figured there had to be some connection and definitely copy to pay her bills. Maybe she could hire David especially if it turned out that the murders were being committed by some unknown small cult.

Annie drank her coffee as she thought, most of her investigation reports were political. Few dealt with cults, or murder types, despite the type of running round this job requires. Going into isolated murder camp sites and talking to camped hikers, and any nearby squatters like ranchers and farmers surrounding the murder sites might be the last thing she worked on. No, this job was quite different, she thought, she just felt something weird about it? She raised her head as the appetizers of shrimp arrived.

She felt eyes staring at her from behind as people walked down the busy sidewalk. Several yards down the street stood a thin elderly back lady, attractive for her old age, her hair white, with eyes that burned into her presence. Just as she started to smile and wave, the elderly lady turned and walked off. Annie finished her food and returned to the hotel. The Cajun style lobby seemed quiet for the moment except for two families registering for rooms. She sat at one of the sofas and organized her printed materials, several pieces were tossed in the waste basket before she rode the slow elevator to her room on the second floor. Exhausted from the readings and notes she quickly fell asleep. Her mind drifted to David.

She began to dream. David was walking down the street in New Orleans, then he was washing a small car. The next instant she floated and stood in a forest, a fire burning to one side, other scantly dressed people moved around, she heard drums, singing, and dancing. As she slept she began to sweat, her breathing harder, for some unknown reason she was running, perhaps being chased by anima vital, a breathing spirit, a force of unknown dimensions. A supernatural force suddenly placed a hand on her shoulder, it stopped her fearful running, she took a deep breath, turned, it was the thin black women she had seen on the sidewalk, she spoke almost in a whisper, Seek a strong force, one with the strength of Voodoo, seek it, seek it seek, …. Annie popped up on the bed, striking wet sweat dripped from her body. It was early dawn when she jumped into the shower thinking the hotel breakfast would be set up in the next thirty minutes.

The well prepared breakfast seemed to calm her as she ate. A couple sat at the table next to her. The mid-aged lady told her husband they would attend the Voodoo gathering and pray that their money troubles worked out. The wife stared at her husband, she moved closer, and told him that they must go to the Voodoo leader and request, even if they must pay, for a grigri. It must be so she said. They must be protected and helped before some black power took over completely.

Annie continued with her breakfast. She wondered if David was awake at this early time. Voodoo was something she had not considered in the murders. If people believe in the power of Voodoo, black magic, and practiced sorcery her story might be of enough interest to push her career further up. She smiled. More than likely the murders were committed by some psycho like David mentioned. But there were places she did not want to go alone. Dark reports of missing persons surfaced every year, she should know, she had written more than several. She decided to pick up several daily newspapers, check the internet news agencies for other crimes in the area, and try David at about 10:00 a.m.; he must be trotting about by then.

Her working material lay scattered on the hotel room table as she pulled her cell phone and dialed, Hello. Is this David? She had gotten bogus phone numbers before and she remained a practical and experienced women.

Yes, this is David Eagleton. Who is this? David always searched for business opportunities.

Oh, this is Annie, Annie Harold. We met at the beignet café. I need to talk to you about a job. But I’d like to talk to you in person. When can I meet you? Annie hoped she could afford his services.

You discovered my weakness. I’m here at the beignet café, the Café du Monde for beignets. I’m sitting here if you have time now? David smiled as he took a large bite of the warm beignet, coffee still steaming hot as he poured sweet and low into the cup and stirred.

Annie stacked some of the sheets on the table, grabbed her purse and electronic tablet holding her notes and other information. Her mind reviewed facts as the hotel elevation plunged down to the lobby. She stepped off the elevator heading for the closing hotel door, people and children scampered around, some sat others ate munches.

Hi, Miss. Harold! How’s it going? the hotel clerk smiled raising his right hand as she raced buy returning the salutation. Her walking pace was fast with no wasted steps as she walked to the café. The anxious trip seemed short as she spotted David stuffing his mouth.

Mr. Eagleton, Annie greed him as he offered her a chair, food and drink.

I’m here because I need help. As I mentioned I’m a freelance investigative reporter, and I need to visit some isolated places. Some my have rough people and I want to be safe. How much would you charge me as a personal body guard type escort? Annie took a sip of coffee, her mind draining her average type savings account. David had ordered more coffee and the waiter was pouring it as Annie sat quietly preparing a freshly poured cup, it needed sweetener.

Tell you what, Mss. Harold. Techniquely, I’m kind of on vacation, but it’s kind of slow. If you pay for my meals, and if, I don’t have to shoot or hurt anyone, and if we take my truck, I’ll take a stab at investigating with you, David waited for a response as Annie emotionally lit up then paused.

Only if I can choose the restaurants, she had seen some people eat mountains of food.

Well, how about if I get to select a reasonable place at least once for each week on the job, He didn’t want to be eating out of gas stations for the duration of the job. Besides this little lady looked like a poor over plumb chicken, lost in the world of combat.

Ok, but I select off the menu, she said.

David thought. Better than a hamburger week. He liked humbuggers, but not for every meal.

Ok, he said, He figured he could buy his own meal. Annie stuck out her hand for a hand shake.

Ok, let go, she said.

Hold on. First tell me about the job, and, I need to know where we’re going. I’ve got things to prepare. David stopped chewing and looked at Annie standing up ready to move.

I forget that everyone doesn’t work my strange hours, she said. What time can you meet me back here at the café?

I’ll meet you here at 2:00 p.m. Look for a four wheel drive blue truck. Make sure it’s me before you get in. David said scooping up his coffee as he stood to leave.

Annie walked off. She thought, Like you’re someone I know well! she smiled. She would let the hotel clerk know about David, his phone number, and his truck model and license plate, and, leave a copy of her map with the itinerary. Experience taught her to keep a second back up phone well hidden for emergencies.

As planned she reached the café with five minutes to spare. The street rattled with traffic noise behind hers as she stood waiting for David. The restaurant crowd murmured with conversation, the heat warming up the afternoon air. Rapidly a bright blue truck turned the corner and speed up stopping in front of her as she stood on the sidewalk along the street. A loud horn blared as the car behind drove around the truck. Quickly, Annie eyed David behind the wheel. He dressed different, she noticed, as she jumped into the passenger side, strapped on the seatbelt and adjusted to the cushy seat. It was a solid truck.

Did you make sure it was me before you jumped in? David smiled as he asked and commented. Had this truck armorized in San Antonio, Texas. I use it for special jobs, had to replace the windshield one time. Some punk with a nine took several shots before the police surround him. He said he gave up because he ran out of ammo. If the cops hadn’t arrived when they did I would’ve ran his ass down. Where are we going? Here plug the wire into the GPS," David pointed to the GPS attached to the dash.

I don’t know how your GPS works. We’re going down some miles by the highway, then turning off one of the dirt roads, a state road, one leading to a cabin. It’s a small dwelling belong to an older black lady. I was told she has connection and can provide information about the murders, Annie said.

Ok, just tell me where to turn off. Don’t be too quick, there might be fast traffic, and, we might have to double back, David sat driving, his black T-Shirt cool, his pants dark green, he expected visiting less formal areas, yet a bullet proof jacketed-vest clung to the back of the truck seat within reach.

Let me check my map, replied Annie. As she checked she let David know to take the highway bordering Lake Panchchortrain. They would take a turn leading to the lake, but reach a log cabin well before they saw the lake.

With the hum of the highway Annie dozed off. David kept an eye on the odometer marking the mileage. As they reached the turn off he would wake Annie if she failed to rouse before then. He looked over to her, she was a good looking women, well formed, professional like. With his eyes on the fast highway he kept vigil both front, back, and all around, the military training now formed part of his persona. Some of his friends called him third eye because he was always a split second ahead of trouble.

Like an alarm clock Annie woke, looked over at the odometer and checked the Louisiana road map. If the direction were correct they were about ten miles form the turn off.

According to my information we must look for a sign that is marked with a large Q, Annie yawned, looked down the highway, and reached for one of several water bottles held in the truck compartment door.

She turned to David, "Would you like some water?

No. I’ve got some coffee, still warm. Sorry, I didn’t think of one for you. David kept his eyes on traffic especially the eighteen-wheelers, those that crowed too close.

Within a few minutes they reached the Q marker, no traffic to contend with, David slowed and made a sharp turn on to the dusty road, more like a trail than a regular one, two faded wheel tracks with grass and shrubs growing in the middle of the wheel tracks. The wild wooded areas fell with dark shady patches from the tall skinny trees. Wild flowers lined the forested area as they drove deep and over stony, bumpy sections that would have caused an old clunker or jalopy to rattle nosily.

Over a small hill the road opened into fields and down at a distant a medium sized log cabin stood at the end of the little used road. David surveyed for possible trouble as they slowly and quietly approached the cabin. Several large dogs ran fast toward the truck, hard viscous grows and menacing barking followed the truck up to the cabin.

David turned to Annie, Don’t open the door until the hounds from hell are restrained. Let me get out first, he continued to wait and tooted the truck horn twice.

A thin white haired lady came out of the cabin, blew a silent dog whistle, immediately the dogs ran up to the wooden porch and sat at the ready. Annie peered hard at her. She was not sure, but the closer the white haired lady moved to the driver’s side the more she looked familiar.

David lowered the window several inches to talk, "Hello, we’re looking for information. This is my friend, Annie. She’s a reporter. May we talk to you? David held a cautious position, the bullet proof window not completely down.

Please wait. I will cage my dogs. They can be protective and dangerous to strangers. I’ve been expecting you, she said as she signaled the dogs and took them to the back of the house returning with a fast stride.

Please get down. We can have coffee on the porch, she said.

David opened the door and nodded to Annie, he grabbed an automatic pistol form the door panel clipping it at the small of his back.

Let’s go, Annie. Please stay to my side and don’t cross in front of me if possible. If anything happens get behind me, or make for the truck and lock yourself in, David gave Annie a commanding stare.

The surprising words rattled her but she grabbed a yellow pad and pen. She shut the truck door and followed David staying to his right about two steps behind him. The elderly lady took the steps up to the porch and turned toward the two.

Please sit down. I’ll fetch the hot coffee and you may ask your questions, she said as she entered the house.

She returned with a tray placing it on the damp table from washing minutes earlier. David and Annie prepared their cups of coffee, so did the elderly lady.

They call me Queen Maria. I am a descendent, ancestor if you will, of Marie Laveau born in 1881 in New Orleans. She was married there in St. Louis Cathedral by Pere Antonie, a priest. Some know him as Father Antonio de Sedella, a Capuchin priest I was told. We have practiced Voodoo and understand the natural forces that surround us. The universe is indeed filled with unseen forces, individual spirits that live in objects and phenomena understood by only a few. Some like myself are Voodoo priests. Now I am ready for your questions, Queen Maria said and she invoked a short ritual with prayer directed at an unknown deity.

Miss. Queen Maria, Annie spoke.

"No. Please call me just Maria or Queen Maria. I am here to help if the spirits allow my presence.

Queen Maria, Annie looked straight at her. "Do you know or can you tell me anything about the murders, the ones from this past week? Annie was not sure she would get anything.

I can tell you that it wasn’t any human that did it. If you want more we will have to wait for evening. That is when my people will come and I shall evoke help form the spirit, the deity, to find out its desires, its intentions. And, if we can act to stop the black cruel force loose on us, the people, our land, she took a sip from the coffee cup. Annie sat at the table. Queen Maria stood to enter the house and requested Annie and David to follow her inside.

David stood, I’ll wait in my truck, he said as he walked toward it. Annie spoke with Queen Maria in the house then returned to the porch table to write notes.

The sun was already setting, the sky dimming, the dogs howling. Queen Maria prepared for the ritual to come soon. David saw no one coming down the dark dirt road.

Queen Maria walked to the door, It’s time Annie, she said as Annie looked up from the table and her notes.

She waved and called David, "It’s time. We’re to go behind the cabin and follow the trail. Queen Maria said we’ll see a fire and loyal worshipers. David unlocked the door, stepped to the back over the bed of the truck and strapped on a bullet proof vest. He switched magazine gun clips with special prepared ammunition. Superstitious people could go crazy on you and he was not going to be caught empty handed. He grabbed a special cap with a protective skull liner in it. Annie carried nothing as David locked the truck with his remote.

A young man appeared, Follow me. Priestess Queen Maria will greet us a little later. If you need anything call me. I’m Ray De Dovit, the young man escorted then to the ritual site where the Priestess would appear, Please sit here, the place a ritual site with numerous places where smooth large stones served as placement seats.

David looked at his radial dial watch then covered the luminous night dial. The time was getting late, almost ten, the surrounding darkness broken only by the starry clear sky. A pit fire flamed as several men gathered cut wood from a near by pile. People arrived as the looming hours moved like thick sticky mud. The large circle around the fire filled with all manner of people. Race proved difficult to