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| Category: || Supernatural Fiction |
Posted:|| April 27, 2015 Views: 748|
Chapter 17 of the book Dark Covenant
The Berwick Witches Series: Book One
New Berwick, Illinois--a mystic place where witches rule under the watchful eyes of the Dominions.
(Recap from previous chapter)
Ten-year-old Russell Sooner was kidnapped and used in the spell to end the werewolf moon curse. Jewel believed she could end the curse and trick the demon that required the child's life. Unbeknown to Jewel, the downside of the spell was that it temporarily made a few older wolves stronger, causing them to break the chains and attack three innocent women. Luckily for the women, a minor spell and silver knives bought them some time, and not a minute too soon.
The Ford Explorer rounded the curve then picked up speed. Matthew Porter's elbow rested leisurely on the black, rubber lip of the opened window. The cool wind parted his thick, dark hair. The noon sky was full of birds as if nothing strange or unusual had happened the night before. As if no blood drops had fallen from crimson clouds—no thunder or lightning—no werewolves, no demons, and no women in peril. But it had happened. And Matthew, along with all the other wolves in Grey Scott Falls, was damn better for it.
He looked up into the powder blue heavens and smiled. Then his forehead wrinkled when he checked his speed after noticing red and blue lights flashing in his side view mirror. The white patrol car with Sheerfield City Police written in big green letters sped up beside him.
"Pull over!" Chief Deputy Dwayne Heller yelled from the patrol car megaphone.
"I said pull over, damn it!"
Matthew looked to his right before crossing the lane. He flashed his signal lights and the driver in the next lane, observing his dilemma, politely fell back. Matthew cruised over and onto the arm of the road. The flashing police lights made it easier for Dwayne to cruise over every lane. He pulled the patrol car in behind Matthew and scrambled out with his gun drawn.
"Turn the car off and unbutton your seat belt!" he yelled with both hands on his gun, his arm straight out.
Matthew turned the key, but left it in the ignition. He kept his eyes on the deputy in his side mirror and slowly clicked off his seatbelt. Dwayne eased up to the driver's window and motioned with his gun. "Keep your hands where I can see them." Matthew placed his hands on the steering wheel.
"Keep your right hand where I can see it and unlock the door with your left hand, now!" Dwayne shouted, pushing the gun closer to Matthew's face.
"All right, all right," Matthew snapped. He slowly brought his left hand down and unlocked the door.
"Unlock the door!"
"I did already."
Dwayne opened the door, still holding the gun on him. "Get out of the car!"
Several police cars suddenly appeared and skidded to a halt. Doors flew open—one facing his van, the others blocked two of the three lanes. Miles of traffic slowed to a crawl. Buses, cars, trucks, motor cycles, and tractor trailers were all forced to use one lane. Many slowed down to signify.
"Keep moving people," an officer commanded. "Police business. Keep moving," he said, waving them on.
Matthew stood facing Dwayne. "Turn around and put your hands behind your head!" Dwayne ordered.
Instead, he took a step towards Dwayne and attempted to reason.
This misinterpreted action sent fellow officers into a frenzy. "Step back!" "Get down on the ground!" Get your ass down. Now!" "Keep your hands behind your head!" "Don't move!" "I'll blow your damn head off," each shouted—their faces flushed their eyes wild and wide.
Dust kicked up in Matthew's face as he lay on the ground with his hands behind his head. They surrounded him with their guns drawn. More patrol cars rolled up, and the sound of a helicopter blade roared above him.
Dwayne holstered his gun and bent over him. "You got any weapons on you?"
He smoothed his hands up and down Matthew's faded blue jeans then squeezed the top of his boots.
"Any drugs? Anything in your pockets that can stick me?" he continued, turning Matthew's pockets inside out.
"Any weapons in your car?"
"Yeah. A rifle—hunting rifle."
Dwayne stood up. He brushed past one of the officers, walked over to the van, reached in and popped the hood. A stout officer raised the hood of the trunk, while another searched it. After pushing aside a blanket, some hunting knives, and other non-incriminating objects, the officer yelled, "Got it!" He held the Beanfield Sniper up in the air like he had won a trophy.
A tall female deputy scurried up to the front passenger side of Matthew's van and pulled open the door. Russell Sooner sat buckled in, with a dripping vanilla ice cream cone in his hand and dressed in his baseball uniform. "Hey little guy, are you all right?" Her stern police face melted when he flashed his baby blues and nodded.
When Mr. and Mrs. Sooner got the call, they rushed to Sheerfield Holy Cross Medical Center where Dwayne had taken Russell for a routine victim examination. Minutes before the Sooners got there, Russell had sat quietly in the examination room in a teddy bear and balloon hospital gown, eating a cookie and had several medical personnel at his beck and call.
Mr. Sooner, who hadn't shaved in weeks, ran up to the nurse’s station. Mrs. Sooner, no make-up and wiry blonde hair (with its dark roots) hanging raggedly down her back, fell in beside him.
"We're here for our boy, Russell Sooner," Mr. Sooner blurted, panting heavily.
The nurse looked up from noting something on a chart. "Oh, yes of course, Mr. and Mrs. Sooner," Russell is in room three sixteen," she said pointing. They ran down the hall where they encountered an officer stationed outside the room. He looked at them sternly.
"We're Russell's parents," Mr. Sooner said.
The officer's eyes softened and he stepped aside. The Sooners entered the room where Russell sat side saddled on a tan hippo with pink toe nails, a smiling face and big brown eyes. The top of it was the exam table. The walls were light purple with a dark purple wall border scattered with little yellow daises. One wall had a painted green-leaf tree filled with blue Jays. The other, a painting of a toy doctor's kit. There were multi-colored chart holders on the doors of the wall cabinet. A male nurse who had just finished taking Russell's vitals for the third time, watched the boy's face light up when his parents grabbed him, smothered him with hugs and kisses—tears flowing down their faces. The nurse stood back and let loose a beaming smile.
"My baby," Mrs. Sooner cried. Her eyes flashed up at the nurse. "Is he all right?"
"He had a slight temperature when he arrived, but it's normal now."
"Oh thank God," she said, kissing Russell's pink cheeks. Mr. Sooner joined in with a squeeze.
The staff on the children’s wing was said to have cheered loudly after learning of Russell's safe return. After a few moments, the doctor entered the room and appeared to enjoy the Sooners' celebration. "Don't mean to interrupt, but I'm doctor Lorac," she said smiling and extending her hand to Mr. Sooner. He shook it, and then she reached past him and shook the hand of Mrs. Sooner.
"Doctor Lorac, I was just telling my husband that Rusty seems fine. And the nurse says his vitals are normal. Is there any reason why we can't take him home today?"
Doctor Lorac, looking quite serious, pulled up a chair and opened Russell's chart. Mr. Sooner scooted next to his wife and cupped her hand. Russell sat with his legs folded under him, sipping a juice the nurse had given him. The only noise was the wheels of a pushed, blue elephant medicine cart as it rolled by.
Matthew sat handcuffed to a chair at the police station. Sheriff Tilbert and Chief Deputy Heller sat across from him while several deputies watched from a two-way mirror outside the room.
"Now, let's start at the beginning, shall we?" Wayne said, attempting to wear Matthew down until he got the truth.
Matthew dropped his head and looked off. "I'm not telling that story again. Either charge me with something, or let me go."
"You're not going anywhere you pervert piece of shit," Dwayne said walking over to him with his fist clenched.
Wayne grabbed Dwayne by the shoulder and pulled him back. "No call for that.” Dwayne stepped back, but gave Matthew the evil eye.
"Now," Wayne said, "after you found him wandering by the side of the road, then what?"
Matthew blew out hard. "I told you. I asked the kid if he were lost. He didn't speak at first, just looked at me like he was in a daze or something. I asked him his name and where he lived, and he told me. He agreed to a ride home. On the way there, I ran into you guys... and now I'm here. End of story." Matthew flopped back in his chair and waited for a response.
“You want us to believe this kid willingly got into your car...a stranger...someone he's never seen before?” Dwayne interjected.
Matthew said nothing. He tapped his handcuffs nervously against the side of the chair.
"Stop that!" Dwayne ordered him.
Matthew sat still and stared off.
There was a long pause. Dwayne studied Wayne's face. Matthew scooted around in his chair and swallowed hard. Wayne stared at Matthew then sucked his teeth and said, "Let him go."
Dwayne's heavy voice hit a high note. "What!"
Outside the two-way mirror hands went up in the air, and mouths dropped.
"You can't be serious."
"Look, the boy doesn't remember a thing. The doc says there's no physical evidence that the child's been harmed in anyway. And this guy doesn't even have a freaking parking ticket. So, what the hell am I supposed to do?"
"The kid doesn't remember anything because Mr. Dirt Bag over there probably drugged him or something."
"We don't know that."
"Holy Moses!" Dwayne smacked his palm with his fist, and glared at Matthew.
"Let it go, Dwayne. I mean it. If the kid remembers anything, and we need to arrest him--we know where he is. Oh, and that reminds me," Wayne said, turning to Matthew, "Don't leave town." Turning back to Dwayne he said, "Now, get his ass out of here." Wayne walked out of the door and into the gazes of disappointment. They stared at him as if he'd just turned Jack The Ripper loose in a whore house.
"Anybody got something to say to me?" Wayne announced, his fists on his hips, his eyes blazing over their faces.
The staff broke and scattered in multiple directions. Wayne stormed into his office and slammed the door so hard, a picture of the mayor slid off the wall.
|The book continues with Silent Victory. We will provide a link to it when you review this below.|
New Berwick, Illinois is comprised of four regions: Falcon Haven, Northern and Southern Greyscott Falls, Sheerfield City and Ironforge.
Northern Greyscott Falls:
River Porter....... Main Character
Jewel Porter....... River's wife
Their daughters....Chelsey, Abby, Dria, and Becca
Southern Greyscott Falls:
Dex Porter.........River's brother
Matthew (Matt) Porter... Dex's son
Jan Porter ....Dex's wife and Jewel's cousin/sister-in-law
Raymond Carter.. Dex's neighbor
Debbie Carter... Raymond's mother
Beatrice ....... Jewel's best friend
Kayla Morrison.. Beatrice's niece
Wayne Tilbert....... Sheriff of Sheerfield City
Reece Tilbert....... Wayne's wife/Sheerfield Bank president
Veronica (Ronnie) Tilbert...Wayne daughter/Kayla's BFF
Christopher Tilbert.........Wayne and Reece's son
Christa......................Veronica and Kayla's BFF
Bob Wilson..................Sheerfield City Coroner
Hollie Brewer...............Corina's sister/Sorcerer
New Berwick residents
Art Work: Her Eyes by Diane Azdamar at dianae.cgsociety.org
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