Night Cries

By Mikki Sadil

Cries in the night. Whispers against her cheek. Sixteen year old psychic, Gabriela Gaudet, is awakened night after night by crying and sobbing voices. Children’s voices.

The traveling carnival that Gabriela’s French-Creole parents own has come to the small town of Dead Man’s Crossing, Iowa. Now the cries and whispers have become loud and pleading. Three small girls. Their brutal murder. An entire town closed ranks and glossed over this terrible crime as though it never happened five years before. It’s up to Gabriela to find the killer, and put the children’s souls to rest. Remi, a handsome young man who appears out of thin air, and disappears just as fast, meets Gabriela and become her partner in seeking justice.

But there are strong forces in the town that want her gone. Just as strong are the forces that want her to stay and finish her mission. Then, there are the six gargoyles in the lobby of the high school who apparently come to life after dark, and the six women in the high school office who look perfectly normal...if you don’t count the tall, cone-shaped and brightly colored witch’s hat each of them wears. “Accidents” harass the carnival. Danger stalks Gabriela with every step she takes. A web of evil surrounds the town, and threatens to draw her into its sticky strands. Will her powers be strong enough to fight off this malevolence, or will the town win again? The Possum Belly waits.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BWL Publishing Inc.
• Release date: Aug 7, 2015
• ISBN: 9781771454957

Mikki Sadil

Mikki Sadil, wife, mother, grandmother, artist, horse trainer, and author of four books and more than thirty short stories and non-fiction articles, all for kids from ten to sixteen has had a passion for writing since she was ten years old and had her first set of poems published, and that passion has continued her whole life.Mikki lives in a small Victorian town on the beautiful Central Coast of California. She and her husband share their home with an incredibly handsome and intelligent Corgi, Dylan, a lazy Siamese/Himalayan cat, Beaujangles, and their mixed-up little cockatiel, Riley, who can’t decide who in this household is boss...but, as Mikki says, "of course, I am!"To find out more about Mikki's books, click this link to go directly to her blog: http://mikki-wordpainter.blogspot.com/

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Night Cries

Beneath the Possum Belly Book #1

By Mikki Sadil

Digital ISBNs

Kindle 978-0-2286-1086-1

EPUB 978-0-2286-1087-8

PDF 978-0-2286-1088-5

Print ISBNs

Amazon Print 978-0-2286-1083-0

LSI Print 978-0-2286-1084-7

B&N Print 978-0-2286-1085-4

2nd Edition Copyright 2019

Original Copyright 2015

Cover Art by Michelle Lee

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

Dedication

To my daughter, Lisanne, whose insistence that I write this story made it possible.

To my daughter-in-law, Betty, who was always ready with words of encouragement.

And as always, to Richard.

Prologue

In the midst of the forest outside the small town of Dead Man’s Crossing, Iowa, an enclave of strange winged creatures gathered. A low murmur of voices sent small animals scurrying back into their dens, and several nightingales took flight from their treetop perches. The voices hushed as a large lion rose to his full height, his wings slightly extended.

Trouble is coming. Soon, there will be in our town a contraption full of people, animals, and strange things that children can play upon. I have not seen the like of such a thing, ever. The lion paused as he heard a whisper from those sitting before him.

Aleira, is that you whispering? Do you have something to say?

It is not a contraption, Xander, it is called a carnival. I saw this one traveling towards our town many nights ago. It …

You should have come to me immediately, Aleira, when you first saw this, ah, carnival thing. The person coming with this carnival is psychic. She is young, but she has more powers than she realizes, and she is a threat to us and to the town. The voices of the young children have been crying out to her. I am sure she will try to find their killer. We must find a way to stop her, without harming her.

A strident voice broke into Xander’s thoughts. Why not just destroy the carnival before it reaches town? Humans deserve no less…

Xander interrupted with a roar. Absolutely not, Grypho, I will not tolerate violence against humans. You best understand that, all of you. They do not come to intentionally hurt us, or the town. However, they will remain for many weeks, possibly months in human count. We must be ever vigilant, but we are not to be observed by any human with the carnival. I…

He stopped abruptly. Wings flapped harshly above, and a moment later, a figure stood in the midst of the group. Enormous wings wrapped around the crocodile body, armored scales glinted in the pale light of the moon. A short, scale-free neck supported the long, narrow head, while yellow eyes stared out of slanted sockets.

The gargoyles were shocked into silence. As the creature glanced around, pandemonium broke out.

"Great Gods Above, what are you doing here?"

You were banished from our enclave. Go back to the evil you came from.

Xander, get him out of our midst. Quickly, before he brings trouble to us.

Abruptly, the intruder changed shape and became a human male.

Well, this is certainly not the welcome I would have expected. After all, I have been gone from you for more than three eons. The intruder smiled.

Xander took a step towards him. Malevio, what are you doing here? We thought you had expired.

Malevio laughed. It was an ugly, guttural sound. Me? Expire? That is not a worthy thought, Xander. I will never expire, I have to be killed, and not even you can accomplish that feat.

You are not welcome here, so why have you come? What is this human form you have taken?

Malevio grinned. Ah, my friends, I have great news for you. I have been with the carnival for years. I know these people very well. He stopped and laughed again. Of course, you are not familiar with humans, are you? He smiled in response to the mutterings of the enclave. I will see to it no one becomes the wiser about the secrets the town holds. No one will ever suspect me.

Xander’s answering roar shook the leaves of the overhanging trees. We need no help from you. Three eons ago you were banished from the Great Conclave of Gargoyles, and you will stay banished. Leave now, Malevio. Do not ever return, or I shall call the Gods to set upon you.

Tauro stamped his foot, and the earth trembled as the huge bull swaggered up to Malevio. We pity those who have come to trust you, Malevio, if indeed what you say is true. They have no idea of the evil in their midst.

The bull lowered his head and thrust his needle-sharp horns into Malevio’s belly before he could step back.

Malevio let out a shriek of anger, and looked at the greenish-black blood oozing from the wounds. Instantly, he returned to his original form and disappeared over the treetops.

Magirra stood and wrapped her long tail around her body. If he cannot be killed, why is he bleeding? Did Tauro find a weak spot?

Xander snorted. He has no weak spots. Those tiny drops of blood mean nothing, as the wounds will heal before he is out of our sight. No more of Malevio, dawn will be breaking soon, so it is time to return to the school. We will meet again tomorrow night at midnight to continue our discussion about the carnival. Hopefully, it will be without any more interruptions.

* * *

The next morning, anyone entering the lobby of the high school would have seen nothing unusual, except for six stone images of gargoyles resting upon marble columns.

Chapter One - Cries and Cats and Claws

May 1935, Dead Man’s Crossing, Iowa

The children’s screams were more frightened than usual, fading to quiet, painful sobs. Gabriela, help us, please help us. The refrain haunted her day and night.

Sixteen year old Gabriela turned restlessly in her sleep. How? How can I help you?

Pale sunlight sneaked through the gap in the curtains covering the small window above her head. It played mischievously across her face, quickly breaking through her uneasy sleep.

She threw aside the blankets, stood, and opened the window. A deep breath of fresh crisp air might help erase the painful sounds that cluttered her sleep. The children’s voices receded, but even before she turned away from the window, another one took their place.

Look in the trunk, Gabriela, look in the trunk.

She rubbed her forehead, but the voice was unrelenting.

Look in the trunk. You will find what you need in the trunk. The voice was older, tired, more dispirited than the frantic voices that plagued her dreams.

All right, just shut up. I don’t know what you mean by ‘the trunk.’ I don’t have a trunk.

Yes, there is a trunk. Find it, Gabriela.

Frustrated, and with her head throbbing, she dressed quickly. She brushed her thick mass of curly black hair so that it fell over her left shoulder, completely covering the jagged scar that began on her left temple, ran down her cheek, and disappeared under her ear.

When she smoothed her covers and pushed the bed back into the frame, it clicked and became the small sofa at the front of the trailer.

She fastened the narrow curtain that served to give her a bit of privacy from the rest of the interior, and stepped into the living area. Her mother sat at the banquette, sipping a freshly made cup of coffee.

Good morning, Mama. You are up early. Are you well?

Her mother yawned and set her cup on the counter. No, I do not sleep well last night. You wish some coffee this morning?

Gabriela twisted a curl around her finger. No, thanks, I’ll get breakfast at the tent. Uh, Mama, do we have an old trunk somewhere around here? One I’ve never seen?

Her mother didn’t look at her. Why do you ask me this? We have no trunk, Gabriela. There is no trunk. Now quit asking foolish questions, get your breakfast, and get to work.

When Emilie Gaudet refused to look at her daughter, Gabriela knew she was either outright lying, or tiptoeing gracefully around the truth. This time, she knew her mother was lying. She left the trailer, and headed for the food tent, determined to find the mysterious trunk as soon as she had the time to look for it.

She walked past the carnies working on setting up the side show tents, and concessionaires’ booths. Some of the food booths were already in operation, and trial samplings of hot dogs, waffles, funnel cakes, and French fries, sent their delightful smells wafting on the breeze. It just served to make her hungrier. She passed Clown Alley, which the carnies had set up prior to working on the Big Top. This was the space the few clowns that were with the carnival had for their own, to rest, tell stories, check each other’s costumes, or wait to go on when the Big Top Main Event began.

Gabriela stopped to watch the haul, where the carnies and roustabouts were carrying the huge poles, canvases, and ropes, from the trucks to the vacant lot where they planned to set up the Big Top tent. It was exhausting work, and took fifty to sixty men to do the haul, and then set the enormous tent up safely. The job took the entire day to complete. It was still cool, with a grey mist that hovered above the men, making the work a little less stressful, at least for now.

Watching the men work so hard made her mindful of her own work that lay ahead of her, so she turned and hurried to the food tent.

* * *

When the carnival bedded down for the night, and all the roustabouts were safely in their trailers and train cars, Gabriela went to look for the trunk.

The dim light from the fading moon was barely enough to help pick her way across the lot to the carnival train, but she wasn’t concerned. Her night vision was far sharper than that of most people.

Finding the trunk was the most important thing, the trunk that supposedly held all the answers she needed. Answers, she thought. I don’t know how there can be answers when I don’t even know what the questions are. A nervous giggle bubbled up in her throat, but she quickly stifled it. She didn’t need anyone to discover her away from her trailer at this time of night.

The General Manager of the carnival, Arthur Grimes, and the Head of Security, Vinnie Reynolds, shared one of the larger train cars. Gabriela knew the possum belly beneath this car was the largest of all of them. If any of them hid a trunk, it was the most likely choice.

She tiptoed around the car until she reached the large storage compartment built beneath the trucks and train cars to hold extra ropes, canvases, and other items needed for the carnival. Why these compartments were called possum bellies seemed to be one of the many enigmas surrounding traveling carnivals.

She knelt and looked around cautiously before opening the door. With Arthur and Vinnie still aboard sleeping, she didn’t dare make any noise. The last thing she wanted was for one of them to find her here and start asking questions. Then, she froze. Leaves blown from nearby trees crunched under footsteps that came close to the car. Who could be out here at this time of night? The footsteps stopped and her heart seemed to be beating a drum. She could see boot clad feet standing on the other side of the car, while the person’s heavy breathing filled her ears. Gabriela prayed silently that whoever it was could not see her, or sense anyone was there. A long minute passed. The pale moonlight glanced weakly off highly polished, square-toed boots, with high tops that disappeared under dark pants. What caught her eye was the unusual way the boots fastened - they laced up under old-fashioned button-and-hook closures.

Another moment passed, and the boots turned around and walked away, leaves still crunching underfoot.

Gabriela gasped, and let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her whole body trembled, but she was determined to continue what she had started.

The possum belly opened quietly, and she rummaged among dirty costumes, a few extra tools, and greasy rags, only to find nothing that resembled a trunk. As she started to close the door, a glint of something of something in the farthest corner caught her eye. Reaching in as far as she could, she managed to grasp one corner of a metal trunk and pull it towards her. She winced as it screeched its way to the edge of the opening, and hoped the noise wasn’t enough to wake Vinnie and Arthur. The night remained silent, with no sounds coming from the car, and no leaves crunching on the other side. She drew in a deep breath, and eyed the trunk.

It was very old and small, more like a lady’s hand trunk. The metal was bound with worn wooden slats on all four sides, and narrow ones across the top. The hinges were embossed, as was the large plate that covered the lock. Gabriela shook her head. What was so important about this trunk that her mother would lie about it? Many of the carnival performers, and even some of the roustabouts, had their own trunks, but they were all kept in one of the train’s luggage cars. She knew her parents never owned one. So where did this one come from?

Under the embossed plate a padlock hung, half open. She pulled it off, and opened the lid. The first thing visible was an old faded newspaper. The headline flared across the page in bold black letters - MISSING GIRLS FOUND DEAD.

Something flitted across her mind. She ignored it and lifted the paper out. It was creased and fragile with age. The headline date read June 5th,, 1930. Her hand trembled as she smoothed the page, and read the article -

The bodies of the three missing children, Emily Dunston, Charlotte Miller, and Sarah Perkins, all five years of age, were found this morning five miles downstream from Dead Man’s Crossing. The bodies were laid side by side on a small sandbar adjacent to Sumner’s Point along the Mississippi River. The Medical Examiner would not say how the three children died, other than it was not from natural causes.

Gabriela gasped and grabbed her head in her hands. Excruciating pain exploded in her mind. She closed her eyes and rocked back and forth. Terrible images unfolded like a miniature horror story from a book -

Three little girls are playing Hide ‘N Seek close to the riverbank. The hot sun glistens off Emily’s red hair, making her the easiest to spot. She grins as she slides down the bank close to the water, sure Charlotte, who is ‘it’, and Sarah won’t be able to find her.

Sarah runs away from the nearby trees and hides near the bank in a clump of tall river marshes, which snags strands of her curly blonde hair.

Charlotte finishes counting to one hundred, opens her eyes, and looks around. A spot of red shimmers in the large clump of trees near the bank. She runs as fast as her pudgy legs will take her, straight into the trees. Emily isn’t there. Something else is.

One by one, it takes the little girls. One by one, it stabs and slashes until all three broken and mutilated bodies lay before it. A bloodied weapon gleams as something between a howl and a scream comes from its glistening mouth.

Then, silence.

Gabriela moaned softly, trying to erase the unbelievable pictures from her mind. They kept repeating like a slow-motion movie. She rocked back and forth on her knees, rubbing her temples. The voices and images diminished until there was nothing left but the memory.

* * *

Gabriela sat up slowly. The moon had passed beyond the curve of the earth, the sky had lightened, and the sun had already begun its early morning climb. Oh no, it’s happened again. I passed out. She picked up the newspaper, smoothed it out, and folded it into a small square. She closed the trunk, without so much as glancing inside to see what else it might hold. With an effort, she pushed it as far back into the possum belly as she could. The noise it made sliding back into the recesses of the hold seemed even louder than before, but with the sun up, Arthur and Vinnie would already be at work.

A cold breeze curled around her shoulders, making her shiver. A quick brush of her legs took care of the dirt and dust as she looked around the lot. The carnival had been in Dead Man’s Crossing for two days, and still was not completely set up. Opening Ceremonies were only one day off, and at this time of morning, the carnival was a flurry of activity. Roustabouts scurried around, carrying tools and equipment to secure the last of the bigger rides. Game tent operators and food stand concessionaires battled, and sometimes cursed, the morning mist that swirled around them. While cool and pleasant to work in, it made the slippery tent poles hard to work with.

With everyone out on the lot, she didn’t know how she was going to get back to her trailer without someone seeing her. Especially, without her mother demanding to know where she had been and what she was doing.

At that moment, a shout spread like wildfire over the lot - Cats on the loose! Cats on the loose!

She froze. Her belly coiled into a tight knot. "Oh, no! How could that happen?"

The big cats — lions, tigers, panthers, and leopards — were trained performers and a star attraction. In captivity, they lived in large cages, completely dependent upon their handlers for their food, water, and welfare.

Alone or in a group, they would be frightened, hungry, and disoriented, all of which could spell disaster to anyone who accosted them.

Gabriela hurried across the lot, no longer concerned about someone asking where she had been. Just before she reached the Midway, her friend Zahra, the Tattooed Woman, and Campey, the big cat trainer, ran up to her.

Gabriela, did you see any of the cats? Kembali and Jumilah are both gone, and so are Mungati, Kefir, Simba, and Isobe. And the leopards, Narok and Sirua, and Risa, the panther. We’re in big trouble if we can’t find them. Zahra’s voice was shaky.

No, I haven’t seen any of them. Why would someone open their cages and …

"It wasn’t someone, it was something. Come on, we can’t stand here jawing, we gotta get moving." Campey grabbed Zahra’s arm and they both raced down the Midway.

* * *

Something? What in the world is Campey thinking? Gabriela shook her head and turned towards the food tent.