Knock Out
Page 97
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In ten minutes they were back on the road, Ethan driving. “We’re on Highway Seventy-five,” he said. “I think it turns into Highway Eighty-one past Chattanooga. Where are we—?”
“You just keep driving, boy, and keep your mouth shut. I’ll tell you where to go.”
He decided not to push it. The pain in his head was only a dull throb. He looked over at Joanna next to him in the front seat. He knew she was still in some pain because she was sitting very still, staring straight ahead, her hands clasped tightly together. He reached out, pulled a hand free, and squeezed. After a moment, she squeezed his hand back. He still held her hand when they crossed into Georgia.
Ethan steeled himself to look into the rearview mirror, afraid he’d meet Blessed’s eyes, but he did look. They were damned creepy eyes. He met Ethan’s gaze. Blessed smiled. Nothing happened. Maybe Blessed wouldn’t stymie him now, because if he did, Ethan just might wreck the van. Something to think about. He said, “Autumn, are you all right?”
“Of course she’s all right. She’s asleep,” Blessed said. “Shut up and drive or you and the bitch are no good to me at all.”
Ethan said mildly, “You’ve got to be careful, Blessed, about what you call Joanna. Autumn could wake up at any time. I wonder what she’d do this time?”
“She’ll do what I tell her to do. You’ll see, she’ll come to love and respect her family, as we will love her. There’s so much waiting for her, a lovely surprise for her too. Now be quiet, Sheriff.”
“I was just going to thank you for the Egg McMuffin and coffee back in Chattanooga.”
Blessed grunted. “I didn’t want my niece to be hungry. It took you long enough to eat it. Don’t speak to me again.”
Ethan knew the only reason he and Joanna were still alive was that Autumn wouldn’t do what Blessed told her to. What was he talking about—a lovely surprise for Autumn? Ethan didn’t think it would be a good idea to ask.
It was two hours before Blessed spoke again. “Turn here, Sheriff.”
Ethan turned off the highway into the middle of nowhere. He continued driving some twenty more miles on an old two-lane country road. Traffic was light, just a couple of pickups and a Volkswagen, only a couple of houses every mile, mostly old split-level houses set way back from the road, separated by thickets of trees.
Blessed finally directed Ethan to turn again onto a narrow one-lane dirt road that looked more like a wide rutted path, and then told him to head toward a dense clump of pine, maple, and oak trees.
Ethan had believed he’d known where they were going, but he’d been wrong. He said, “So we’re not going to the tobacco farm?”
Ethan saw the look of surprise on Blessed’s face, but he recovered quickly. “What do you know about any of that?”
“I know quite a bit about the Children of Twilight. So does the FBI.” Well, he didn’t know that much, Savich hadn’t had a chance to tell him more, but Blessed didn’t know that. “I know the cult is housed on an old flue-cured tobacco farm.” Ethan stopped, not wanting Blessed to know everything he knew, which wasn’t much. “Well, Blessed, that isn’t where we’re going?”
“No, we’re not going there, we’re…Shut up, Sheriff, and keep driving.”
“Hey, I was wondering, do many people contact you through your website? Is that how you get members? Are there Children of Twilight branches in Europe? How about Transylvania?”
He heard Blessed cursing under his breath, heard Savich’s name, and smiled.
“You shut up now, Sheriff, or I’ll stymie you, you hear me? Autumn’s asleep, she won’t know.”
“While I’m driving? Won’t I run us right off the road if you stymie me? Autumn might get hurt. Best not take the chance, Blessed.”
Blessed said, “Stop your mouth, Sheriff. Slow down ahead, the road’s pretty rough.”
The road was soon filled with rocks and potholes, and patches of mud with tire tracks weaving in and out of them. Maples, pines, and oaks pressed in from both sides, a vivid green canopy so close the van scraped against the tree branches. The road wound upward, meandering from right to left and back again, always climbing.
He braked when they came to an old weathered black iron gate across the road, two large wooden poles holding it in place. Trees were thick on each side, so there was no going around the gate. Where were they?
“Get out, woman, and open the gate.”
Joanna pulled her hand from Ethan’s, climbed out of the van. She walked to the gate and opened it.
“You just keep driving, boy, and keep your mouth shut. I’ll tell you where to go.”
He decided not to push it. The pain in his head was only a dull throb. He looked over at Joanna next to him in the front seat. He knew she was still in some pain because she was sitting very still, staring straight ahead, her hands clasped tightly together. He reached out, pulled a hand free, and squeezed. After a moment, she squeezed his hand back. He still held her hand when they crossed into Georgia.
Ethan steeled himself to look into the rearview mirror, afraid he’d meet Blessed’s eyes, but he did look. They were damned creepy eyes. He met Ethan’s gaze. Blessed smiled. Nothing happened. Maybe Blessed wouldn’t stymie him now, because if he did, Ethan just might wreck the van. Something to think about. He said, “Autumn, are you all right?”
“Of course she’s all right. She’s asleep,” Blessed said. “Shut up and drive or you and the bitch are no good to me at all.”
Ethan said mildly, “You’ve got to be careful, Blessed, about what you call Joanna. Autumn could wake up at any time. I wonder what she’d do this time?”
“She’ll do what I tell her to do. You’ll see, she’ll come to love and respect her family, as we will love her. There’s so much waiting for her, a lovely surprise for her too. Now be quiet, Sheriff.”
“I was just going to thank you for the Egg McMuffin and coffee back in Chattanooga.”
Blessed grunted. “I didn’t want my niece to be hungry. It took you long enough to eat it. Don’t speak to me again.”
Ethan knew the only reason he and Joanna were still alive was that Autumn wouldn’t do what Blessed told her to. What was he talking about—a lovely surprise for Autumn? Ethan didn’t think it would be a good idea to ask.
It was two hours before Blessed spoke again. “Turn here, Sheriff.”
Ethan turned off the highway into the middle of nowhere. He continued driving some twenty more miles on an old two-lane country road. Traffic was light, just a couple of pickups and a Volkswagen, only a couple of houses every mile, mostly old split-level houses set way back from the road, separated by thickets of trees.
Blessed finally directed Ethan to turn again onto a narrow one-lane dirt road that looked more like a wide rutted path, and then told him to head toward a dense clump of pine, maple, and oak trees.
Ethan had believed he’d known where they were going, but he’d been wrong. He said, “So we’re not going to the tobacco farm?”
Ethan saw the look of surprise on Blessed’s face, but he recovered quickly. “What do you know about any of that?”
“I know quite a bit about the Children of Twilight. So does the FBI.” Well, he didn’t know that much, Savich hadn’t had a chance to tell him more, but Blessed didn’t know that. “I know the cult is housed on an old flue-cured tobacco farm.” Ethan stopped, not wanting Blessed to know everything he knew, which wasn’t much. “Well, Blessed, that isn’t where we’re going?”
“No, we’re not going there, we’re…Shut up, Sheriff, and keep driving.”
“Hey, I was wondering, do many people contact you through your website? Is that how you get members? Are there Children of Twilight branches in Europe? How about Transylvania?”
He heard Blessed cursing under his breath, heard Savich’s name, and smiled.
“You shut up now, Sheriff, or I’ll stymie you, you hear me? Autumn’s asleep, she won’t know.”
“While I’m driving? Won’t I run us right off the road if you stymie me? Autumn might get hurt. Best not take the chance, Blessed.”
Blessed said, “Stop your mouth, Sheriff. Slow down ahead, the road’s pretty rough.”
The road was soon filled with rocks and potholes, and patches of mud with tire tracks weaving in and out of them. Maples, pines, and oaks pressed in from both sides, a vivid green canopy so close the van scraped against the tree branches. The road wound upward, meandering from right to left and back again, always climbing.
He braked when they came to an old weathered black iron gate across the road, two large wooden poles holding it in place. Trees were thick on each side, so there was no going around the gate. Where were they?
“Get out, woman, and open the gate.”
Joanna pulled her hand from Ethan’s, climbed out of the van. She walked to the gate and opened it.
