Evil Agreement (11 page)

Brittany opened
the driver side door and was looking inside.

“We could give her mom or dad a call and they’ll come and get
her,” said Chucky.

“And what would that accomplish, Mr.
Trainor
?”
said the Reverend in an icy tone.

“I don’t know, I...”

“Moloch demands our obedience. He has kept his word and we
must keep ours as our ancestors did, or have you forgotten, Mr.
Trainor
?

“No, Reverend, I haven’t, I’m sorry.”

“Look, she got into the truck,” said Judge Fairchild.

“Yeah, and it looks like the boys are following her lead,”
said Walter.

“Our mission is clear, our purpose is for the greater good,
let us do Moloch’s work,” said the Reverend.

The pickup truck with the girl sitting in the middle pulled
out of
Frida’s
parking lot and drove off in a
southerly direction down US Route 2.

The black Ford left the gas station and followed the truck
from a distance, tracking its taillights.

After a couple of miles the truck slowed down and took a left
turn onto

After three miles or so, the truck turned right onto an
unmarked dirt road. Once again the Ford followed. After a half mile, the truck
suddenly turned around in the narrow dirt road. It bounced in and out of the
ditch.
Yandow
stopped the car.

“What are they doing?” asked the Judge.

“They’ve figured out they’re being followed,” said
Yandow
.

The truck lurched forward. A cloud of dust kicked up behind
the truck as it shot straight at the black Ford Crown Victoria.
The truck’s light bar was turned on and the high beams were on as well. In a
moment, the truck slammed to a stop directly in front of the car. A cloud of
dust blew across the eerily lit scene. The truck engine gunned a couple of times
and roared as it rocked in place.

Yandow
gunned the police engine of
the Ford Crown Victoria and it
roared its response.

Suddenly, the truck surged backwards for nearly a hundred
feet and suddenly spun around. Now, its tail lights once again faced the former
police car. The rear wheels of the truck spun furiously as they kicked up a
plume of white gray dust in the direction of the car. The truck pulled away
quickly, disappearing down the dirt road.

“They’re running,” said
Yandow
.

“They must not be allowed to get away,” said the Judge.

“I know,” said
Yandow
as he stepped
firmly on the gas pedal and the car shot forward.

In a moment, they could see the truck taillights flickering
in the dust filled haze. Several seconds later their car was within ten feet of
the truck’s back bumper. Both vehicles were traveling over seventy miles an
hour along the narrow, windy, sometimes rolling road. At times, their speed
slowed to forty miles an hour and at others it exceeded a hundred. Houses and
mailboxes whizzed past. Tree branches wiped against the truck and car.

“Mr.
Yandow
, end it,” demanded the
Reverend.

With those words
Yandow
pushed the
car faster. It slammed into the back of the truck. The truck fishtailed from
the impact, but the driver managed to still hold the road. The truck’s rear
lights were smashed and no longer worked.

“What the hell?” said the boy sitting in the passenger seat.

“Those crazy bastards just hit my truck,” said the driver,
“they can’t be cops.”

 
“Please let me out,
please. If they catch me, they’ll kill me,” screamed Brittany.
She was sitting in the middle of the two boys.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” said the boy riding
shotgun.

“They want me. I’m not supposed to be with interlopers,” she
cried.

“Bitch, you’re talking crazy,” said the driver.

Bamm
.

The truck was slammed from behind again.

“Loose him man, loose him,” screamed the boy passenger.

“I can’t. I’m going as fast as I can on this shit ass road.”

Bamm
...
Bamm
, screech...

The truck tailgate was now pushed in.

“The crazy fuck’s trying to pass me,” said the driver.

“Moloch, I was wrong. I was wrong, please,” she cried as she
reached for the passenger’s side door handle, trying to open it.

“Get her under control, Freddy...shit,” said the driver.

The former police car slammed into the truck’s left side as
Yandow
tried to force the truck off the road. The truck’s
right side smashed a mailbox into hundreds of pieces as the vehicles careened
along. Another car’s headlights loomed about three hundred yards ahead.
Yandow
saw it first. He slowed the car down so he could
pull in behind the truck. The young boy driving the truck noticed the oncoming
car and braced for what he thought was going to be certain impact between the
three vehicles. He had not noticed the Ford pull back.

Swoosh
.

The wind currents whipped the passing vehicles, rocking them
as they speed by.

The incident lasted only a short while when once again
Yandow
had pulled the restored police car alongside of the
truck.

This time, the truck’s young driver responded by slamming his
own truck into the car’s now dented right side. The car held steady. The three
people in the truck were screaming all at once. Nobody noticed the car had
lurched back a few feet until its right front tire was pulled even with the
truck’s left rear tire. Now the car pulled quickly to the right.

There was a sudden impact that sent the truck into a spin.
The tires bit into the road’s heavily packed dirt surface as the truck went
sideways. It began to flip itself along the road at over eighty miles an hour.
Two bodies flew out of the truck as the doors flapped wildly. The headlights
broadcast their bounding light into an empty field to the left side of the
road. The truck came to rest on the roof, in the middle of the road, over three
hundred feet from the last impact with the pursuing car.

Yandow
managed to pull the Ford
Crown Victoria to a stop
immediately after its last contact with the truck. The occupants watched the
tumbling truck until it came to a stop. The Ford’s headlights covered the dust
filled crash scene. The car now slowly moved forward towards the first body,
which was lying in the ditch on the right side of the road. The car stopped and
Chucky and Walter got out first.

“He’s still alive, he’s got a pulse,” said
Trainor
who was bending over the twisted body of the boy
passenger. The boy was unconscious.

The Reverend and the Judge got out of the car and slowly
approached the boy.

“By the power granted to me by Moloch, the Prince of
Darkness, the right hand to the all powerful Lucifer, I condemn you to death.
Your soul will belong to Moloch, may you serve him well,” said Judge Fairchild.

Chucky pulled the boy’s head up from the ground. At the angle
he held the head the boy was unable to breath. In a moment the boy stopped
breathing.

The four men walked down to the second body. It was Brittany.
She was lying on her right side with her back to the truck. She, too, was
unconscious. She had an obviously broken arm. Her eyes were rolled back, her
eyelids frozen open, so that only the white’s of her eyes could be seen. Blood
ran down the side of her face from her left ear. Her legs were badly scrapped
and bloody.

“Should we take her or send her to Moloch?” asked
Yandow
.

“Let’s see the other boy first,” answered the Judge. His
decision on these matters was final as ordained by the word of Moloch.

They moved along to the truck. The smell of gasoline was
everywhere. The gas tank had ruptured during the tumbling and it was now
leaking gas onto the ground underneath the truck. Pinned beneath the steering
wheel, inside of the upside down truck, still strapped in with his seat and
shoulder belt was the driver. He moaned softly as the four men approached.
Glistening glass splinters offered multiple reflections from the Mercury’s headlights.
The long shadows of the men now stretched across the truck. The night was quiet
except for the boy’s moaning.

From his upside down position he could see, through one eye,
the approach of shadowy figures. His other eye had been cut out of its socket
by a shard of glass from the broken truck windshield. He had several broken
bones. His right lung was punctured by a broken rib. His breathing was labored.
He was well into shock so he didn’t feel the full effects of the pain messages
his body was generating. He could now only see the feet of the men standing
next to his truck. The driver door was missing. It had flown off halfway along
the several rollovers that the truck traveled in its solo crash.

“Please help me,” said the young boy through a shortness of
breath. Blood now dripped from his mouth.

“C’mon, somebody please.”

“By the power given to me by Moloch...” said the Judge.

“Who in the fuck is Moloch?” demanded the boy.

“You will soon know him,” said The Reverend.

“...and may you serve him well,” finished the Judge.

Yandow
knelt down and reached
inside of the truck.

“You fuckers,” cried the boy.

His neck snapped to the right as
Yandow
ended his pain and his life.

“Take her to Ed Foley,” said the Reverend. “I want her alive
for tomorrow’s ceremony. He’ll know what to do.”

“Where do I put her?” asked
Yandow
.

“In the back seat.
Trainor
will
ride in the back seat with her. The Judge and I will ride in the front with
you.”

“Okay with me, c’mon Chuck, give me a hand will
yuh
?” said
Yandow
.

The two headed over to Brittany
and picked her up and headed back to the car.

The Judge stood next to the truck. He had a match box out. He
struck a wooden match and tossed it under the truck. In a moment there was a
whoosh
sound as the dripping gasoline on the ground caught fire.

The Judge turned and walked away with the Reverend, they both
headed to the car. Brittany,
still unconscious, was now in the back of the car. When the Judge and the
Reverend were about twenty feet from the car the truck’s gas tank exploded.
Since the truck was upside down, the brunt of the fiery explosion blew skyward.
The explosion also caused the truck to completely catch fire. The concussion
from the explosion nearly knocked the two older men over. They scampered to the
car and climbed into the front seat. The car backed up a few feet and half
turned around.

As the car pulled away from the crash scene,
Yandow
looked into his rearview mirror. He could see the
burning truck, its light filling up the mirror. His eyes focused upon the
burning body strapped inside of the cab.

The burning scene disappeared from view as the car moved
away, around a small curve and over a short hill.

14

Aaron slipped the hostess an extra twenty. In a couple of
minutes,
Korie
and he were led to a small table to
the left of the stage. A local band was playing a mean rendition of
Dust My
Blues
by Elmore James. The size of the crowd at Cambridge’s
House of Blues was above average. Even though the place was air conditioned, it
still was hot due to the crowded conditions and the gyrating energetic pulse of
a large group of people getting into the music.

Aaron began to nod his head in time with the music as soon as
they were seated. The band was tight—their blend of blues riffs with a
traditional brass overlay held sway over the mostly middle age crowd. Aaron and
Korie
were seated close enough to the stage that the
sound of music emanating from the amplifiers drowned out any possibility of
polite conversation.
Korie
pulled her chair around so
she could look at the band. This placed her closer to Aaron. He smiled at her,
leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

The band finished their song to a rousing applause from the
appreciative audience.

The lead singer stepped up to the microphone and called out
to a woman sitting over at the bar.

“Sylvia, hey, come work with us? What do you say we do
Koko’s
Mother Nature
? C’mon folks, help us to
get Sylvia to come on down,” said the singer as he encouraged the room to clap
their hands as a form of encouragement.

The woman waved off the entreaties of the crowd. This just
produced the opposite effect. The crowd made even more noise. Some began to
whistle and hoot.

Aaron really got into this crowd exercise. He stood up and
shouted, “Sylvia, who loves you?”

His effort seemed to elicit a response from the woman as she
left her seat and began to work her way through the crowd.

Soon she was helped up onto the stage. She nodded to the
crowd and favored them with a friendly grin. Sylvia looked over to where Aaron
was seating.

She took the microphone in hand, removing it from its upright
stand. Now looking at Aaron she said, “This one’s for you, lover.”

The crowd broke up with laughter and applause.

Now Sylvia looked directly at
Korie
and said with a wink, “Honey, he’s a keeper, if you know what I mean.”

The music started with a soulful guitar riff pulling in a
solid bass line and drum riff. Sylvia followed with a powerful throaty voice
that called out to the room, “don’t mess with Mother Nature, cause you’ll be
sorry if you do.”

The song was one of those great blues number’s with a
traditional slow back beat that just called to your soul. Soon everyone in the
room was swaying to the rhythm of the music.

Korie
even got into the spirit of
the moment.

As the song ended, everyone stood up and gave Sylvia a
rousing ovation. She blew everyone a kiss and stepped from the stage.

As she headed back to her seat,
Korie
leaned over and through the noise managed to playfully ask, “She seems to know
you rather well.”

“Yeah, she does.”

“Oh, how so?”

“She used to sing with my band.”

“Well, you sure are a man of mystery. You have a band?”

“Sort of, some teacher friends and I have this blues band and
well, we just like the music, you know, like the music is good for the soul
kind of thing.”

“And Sylvia?”

“Yeah, she’s got a great voice. She used to teach math at the
middle school in town.”

“Use to? What happened?”

“Breast cancer. Last year she had a double mastectomy,
chemotherapy, and all that. She’s doing okay She can’t work right now because
she’s too weak. You see those three other women that she’s with?”

“Uh-huh.”

“They’re all teachers, too. They’re her support group. She
can’t sing with our band because she gets too tired. Over the years she has
sung with several local blues bands that have performed here. She’s known by a
lot of people. Everyone just loves her. She’s got a gift in that voice of hers.
I’m glad she’s well enough to get out for some fun.”

“She sounds special.”

“Yeah, she’s special. Sylvia’s a fighter.”

Just then a waiter stopped at their table. They both ordered
some beer and dinner.

A new band was just finishing setting up. They were another
local band from the seacoast area of New Hampshire.
The band consisted of a three-piece horn section, a lead guitarist, rhythm
guitar, bass, drums, keyboard player and a female singer. She was somewhat tall
with long blond hair. She wore a small black dress. The band wore black suits
and white shirts. The bass player wore dark glasses. The average age of the
band members was definitely under thirty.

They began to play with a passion and skill that caught the
attention of the room. Halfway into their first song, the audience gave them a
boost with approving applause. The room was into the music.

Their drinks were brought to their table. Some people in the
room were dancing to the music in whatever space they could find.
Korie
and Aaron were thoroughly enjoying themselves. Soon
their dinner was served. The night passed quickly.

***

Ed Townsend pulled off of Interstate 89. He drove under the
highway and pulled into an all night gas station combination convenience store.
He was about twenty miles north of Concord, New
Hampshire. He topped off his gas tank. This was his
second car of the night. He had rented this car at the Lebanon,
New Hampshire Airport. He left his own
vehicle parked at a Motel Six parking lot. He rented a room at the motel for
three nights. He told the clerk he was going to leave his car in the lot for
the duration because he was going to be picked up by a co-worker. He also left
word that he didn’t want his room disturbed because he would be working late
hours and would need his rest. The counter clerk quietly agreed, especially
when Ed handed her a couple of tens, to ensure her understanding of his
request.

After he had paid for the gas, he started up his car and
pulled to the side of the parking lot. He turned his overhead light on as he
studied the map. He spotted what he was looking for. He was headed for the Manchester,
New Hampshire Airport. There he would again
rent a car as well as find a safe haven for his current vehicle. Before the sun
would rise he will have traded cars at the Providence,
Rhode Island Airport and Boston’s
Logan Airport
too.

He drank his coffee black, one sugar. That night, he drank
several cups to help him stay awake. At
six
thirty
in the morning, he pulled his last rental car to a stop
under the portico of the Comfort Inn in Cambridge,
Massachusetts. He checked in and headed to
his room. He unlocked the door and turned on the light from the wall switch. He
dropped his small overnight bag onto the bed. Ed used his cell phone to make a
phone call.

“Yeah, I’m in town. Never mind where. Yeah, uh-huh. Okay.
Look I need to get some shut-eye. I’ll meet you at Quincy Market under the
rotunda at two, sharp. You’d better bring me an address and anything else you
can get. And don’t be late.”

He closed his flip phone and placed it on the nightstand. He
went back to the door and hung the “do not disturb” sign on the outside handle.
He turned off the overhead light and proceeded to unpack his overnight bag in
the semi-darkness. He untied his shoes, kicked them off and stretched out on
the bed. In a few moments, he was sound asleep.

***

Aaron had driven
Korie
home and
spent the night. He slipped out midmorning and drove to his place. He packed a
suitcase. Aaron took a relaxing shower. After the shower, he took his suitcase
and drove back to
Korie’s
place. As he entered the
unlocked front door he immediately noticed the aroma of pancakes and sausage
coming from the kitchen. He headed for the kitchen.

“Smells great,” he quipped.

Korie
was standing at the stove
with her back to him. She was wearing a short robe. Her long slender legs
caught his eye.

Korie
didn’t turn around at hearing
his voice. She just shrugged her shoulders.

Sensing that something was wrong Aaron went up to her and
touched her shoulders. She didn’t seem to respond to his touch. He turned her
around. She had a spatula in her right hand.
Korie
hung her head down. She didn’t want to look him in the eye right now. He lifted
her chin and immediately saw that she had been crying.

“What’s wrong?”

She dropped the spatula on the countertop and threw her arms
around him. Her hug was powerful.

“I...thought you weren’t coming back,” she whispered.

“But
Korie
, I...”

“Never mind, just hold me.”

After a long moment she pulled back from him and kissed his
cheek.

“Stupid, huh?” she said as she pulled her hair behind her
ears with her left hand.

“No, not at all,” he smiled.

“Uh, sit down, breakfast is ready.”

Aaron went to the table and sat down as
Korie
served breakfast. They ate and talked for the next hour.

Finally Aaron mentioned he had slipped out earlier and packed
a suitcase full of clothes. He was eager to head to Vermont.

“C’mon,
Korie
, I’ll help you pack.”

“No thanks, I can handle that myself. Now, how long do you
expect this adventure to take?” she said as she sipped her cup of coffee.

“Two or three days, tops. I just want to see it myself, maybe
check out Vermont while we’re
there. I hear it’s as pretty as a postcard. If it goes any longer than that,
we’ll buy clothes up there. See, problem solved.”

“You’re so smart.”

“Thanks.”

“Conceited, too!”

“Uh-huh.”

They had a good laugh together.

Korie
put their dishes on the
counter and headed to her bedroom.

“It’ll take a while, so why don’t you relax in the living
room.”

“Sure.”

When she entered the bedroom she could hear water running in
the kitchen sink. Aaron was beginning to wash the breakfast dishes. This fact
amused her and brought a smile to her face. She went to her walk-in closet and
pulled a large suitcase out of the back. She heaved it onto her bed and
proceeded to fill it to overflowing.

Before setting off for Vermont,
they stopped at
Korie’s
landlord’s house. She told
them that she was going to be away for few days and could they watch her
cottage for her. They agreed and reminded her to lock the front door.

They immediately left Plymouth,
Massachusetts, for Vermont
at a few minutes past
1:00 p.m.
Aaron
planned to reach Montpelier, Vermont,
by dinnertime.

***

Ed arrived early for his meeting with his informer. The
crowds at Quincy Market were less congested at this time of day. Nevertheless,
there was still a good crowd. He spotted her coming in from the
Faneuil
Hall entrance a few minutes before
two o’clock
.

Their eyes met. Ed was standing at a lunch counter eating
some fish and chips that he had bought a moment ago. His contact went over to
the N.Y. Deli and bought a sandwich. She headed over to Ed’s lunch counter and
stood opposite of him.

Unwrapping her sandwich she said, “He’s for real. Yesterday
he met with the Powell Family lawyer in our firm. He seemed quite interested in
the Vermont property. He was with
a young woman. I couldn’t get her name.”

“That’s it?” scowled Ed.

“No, there’s more, here, see for yourself,” she said as she
slipped him a small manila envelope.

He opened the envelope and pulled out several papers. He read
them slowly. She ate her sandwich in small bites. She was afraid of Ed. She
hoped she had performed well. That decision, however, was his alone to render.

“This is good. We now know where he lives, what he does for a
living. Yes, this is good.”

“Thanks.”

“What about his accounts, his resources, assets, that sort of
thing?”

“I don’t think I can get to that stuff. That information is
probably under lock and key in Lowenstein’s office safe. I know I can’t get
access to that. The stuff I brought you I managed to get by
buddying
up with his legal secretary. She’s a gossip. It was almost too easy, but it’s
all she knows. I swear.”

“Okay, but keep working on it. Look, I’ve got to go now. I’ll
be in touch,” he said as he wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. Ed put the
papers back inside the envelope and stuffed the envelope in his suit coat
pocket. The manila envelope stuck out of his pocket. He took his plate over to
the trash can, tossed his garbage inside and walked out the same door she had
entered just minutes before.

She finished her sandwich and felt more relaxed now that he
was gone. She realized her work on behalf of the coven and Moloch was vital.
Indeed, she believed what she had just handed him was the breakthrough they had
all been waiting for.

Checking her watch, she realized she needed to hurry back to
work. She tossed her nearly finished sandwich into the garbage and took her
soft drink with her. She headed out the
Faneuil
Hall
entrance and proceeded back towards her office. The summertime crowd in this
part of Boston is always heavy.
Pedestrians seldom wait for the crosswalk signals before hurrying across
traffic filled streets. She moved with the flow and now found herself standing
at a curb. A young courier on roller blades rushed past.