Page 28 of The Witching Hours

“Phone’s not working,” he repeated. “No.” He was shaking his head. “This can’t be happening. Everything can’t go south at once.”

As he finished that sentence, the beautiful brand-new sports car sputtered and stalled.

“WE’RE OUT OF GAS?!?” She sounded incredulous when she gave voice to exactly what Tristan was thinking. They heard the rustling of a bevy of nearby fowl taking flight. Jeanette’s voice had alarmed the wildlife more than the sound of the car engine.

“No! We’re not out of gas! We’re just…”

“Just what?”

“I guess the same dead zone that’s fucking with your phone is fucking with my car.”

“Great. What now?’

“I don’t know.”

She threw up her hands. “At least it can’t get any worse.” That’s when they heard the rumbling of distant motorcycle engines. “Is that…?”

Tristan took in a deep breath before acknowledging the worst. “Yeah.”

“That’s impossible. How could they know where we are?” It took less than thirty seconds for Jeanette to answer her own question. “Oh my God, Tristan. Your phone! They have your phone!” He looked confused. “Remember. When we agreed to be exclusive, we sealed the commitment by signing up for Spot360? They can see where we are on your phone. They tracked us towhere the phone stopped working.” Tristan grabbed Jeanette’s phone and threw it as far as he could into the bayou in the direction they’d come from. “Tristan! What the fuck! That’s our only link to… to…”

“That’s our only link to those bikers,” he said as he was opening the car door and scrambling to get out. “Come on. We’ve got to get away from the car. And the phone.”

Jeanette froze for a second. She looked around. “There’s nowhere to go,” she said weakly.

“Jen! There’s no time for debate. COME ON!”

The car was too close to the ditch on her side for her liking. She stood up on the passenger seat and walked toward Tristan.

The second her feet touched the ground he had her hand, pulling her into her best sprint which felt like a half effort to Tristan, but he wasn’t going to leave her behind. Not ever.

Odd thoughts occur at odd times. Jeanette found herself feeling glad she’d chosen the canvas tennies over the cute wedge sandals.

The rumble of multiple Harleys was getting louder. They could also feel fear adrenaline pricking their respective nervous systems like cold needles.

At the end of a dark quarter mile, they came to a crossroads. They stopped in the middle. If any upside could be found, it was that their eyes had adjusted to the dark so that they could see dense thicket on the northwest side and bayou on the south. But the northeast corner was the entrance to an old cemetery announced by a high wrought iron arch. Lady of the Light.

“Oh God, Tristan. Which way?”

Tristan wasn’t big on indecision. He thought it was a waste of time and anathema to getting stuff done. But the current predicament was different. For one thing, he wasn’t inthis alone. He had Jeanette to think about. The bikers might be out for some scare-the-city-kids fun, but he couldn’t count on it.

The thicket was impassable. The bayou? Well, there’d been midweek storms with runoff. A streak of moonlight shining on water gave up no information about how deep it was or what was in it.

“The bayou might not be so bad,” he said.

“Don’t you try to kid me about the bayou, Tristan. I’m from Louisiana, too, you know. There are alligators in there. Not to mention snakes, bears, wolves, cougars and who knows what else?”

“Tigers?”

“TRISTAN! This is not funny.”

“I know. I don’t know why I said that. The thicket’s a no-go. If the bayou’s out, that leaves the cemetery.”

She looked over her shoulder at the cemetery. Kudzu had climbed up the arch and grown so thick it was threatening to bring the structure down. That meant it wasn’t maintained. That meant that all the people who cared about the people who were laid to rest there had also died and been put to rest. Elsewhere probably. Jeanette had to agree with his assessment. She’d rather take her chances in the cemetery. “So be it. Let’s go.”

“You sure?” he asked.

“Let’s be real. It’s the only option.” She’d spent so much time at the Lafayette Cemetery with her grand-mère that she’d never thought of final resting places as something to be feared.

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