River of Bones (16 page)

Fear pulled me awake in the early dawn, jolting me back to reality. Muted light of yet another gloomy day wove through the moth-bitten curtains. Where was I? Then, horribly, it all came back to me. I glanced under the bed. The dark sockets of the skull glared back at me.

Something moved inside its gaping mouth, flickering over the teeth, pausing on the gold one. A tongue? It wasn't possible. Or was it?

I froze, watching the tongue roll out of the skull, growing longer, thicker, before it dropped to the floor.

My pulse quickened. It wasn't a tongue.

An olive colored snake slithered out. It must have been nesting in the skull, waiting for just the right time to strike. It pinned me with its lidless eyes, the pupils thin slits of deep green. The serpent reared its head and opened its mouth, revealing the pure white inside.

A cottonmouth! The snake undulated closer, then paused. Its tail vibrated against the floor in a low, sinister chatter. It flattened its broad neck, hissing. The tail lashed back and forth in an agitated motion.

“Dharma? Where are you?”

Wolf!

I couldn't move! I didn't dare to even blink.

The snake slithered closer, its tongue flickering. I stared in helpless horror as it reared its head higher, exposing its venomous fangs.

Ready to strike.

“Dharma!” Wolf yelled. “Hold still. Don't move!”

Something flew past my head and landed with a dull thud. Blood spurted from the snake. It lay decapitated, twitching on the floor next to a hunting knife, with its gleaming blade buried in the floorboards.

I lunged to my feet, jumped over the dead snake and grabbed the broom I had left the day before and poked at the skull until it was out from under the bed.

I turned the foul thing over and peered inside, searching for more nasty creatures. My temper flared. “This stupid skull is only making things worse. I'm getting rid of it!”

“Where are you taking it?”

I squeezed the skull between my hands wishing I could crush it into a thousand miserable pieces. “Back where it came from.”

“Yeah, but remember what Sassy said to do?”

“She was wrong. Think about it. It was all too easy the way I took the skull from the swamp. Whatever evil lurks in those waters could have easily drowned me. It wanted out, to have its power unleashed. The water somehow kept the evil contained. It's going back.”

I marched from the room, clutching the hateful skull. A strange heat emanated from it, along with a terrible stench of rot. Nearing the stairs, a rush of dizziness washed over me, the floor tilting again. The spine-chilling tune I'd heard earlier drummed in my ears, pounding at my temples. The skull was trying to confuse me so I wouldn't toss it back in the swamp. It only confirmed what I already knew. The skull had to go back in the slimy mud of the bog where it belonged. I made my way down the steps, grasping the handrail. At the bottom, I stopped to rest, frustrated over how simple tasks stole my strength.

Wolf came to my side. “You know, you might be right.” He peered at the skull in my hands. “But why toss it back in the swamp. Why not keep it someplace in case we need it again?”

Glaring at the hateful thing I shook my head. “No. It's going back in. No matter what. Somehow the water helped to control it. Held it captive.” I locked my jaw. “It wanted out. No wonder it was so easy to find.”

“Okay, but afterwards let's head over to Sassy's. She has to know another way.”

“I wish this would've worked.” I sighed. “I mean, I can't even believe I dove into that gross water again. All for nothing!”

“We're going to beat this thing—whatever it is. We can't just give up. Not now. Not after all we've been through.” Wolf narrowed his eyes and pierced me with a blazing gaze. “I've never lost a fight yet, and I don't plan to start now.”

I nodded. “I know you're right. It's just that I'm so wiped out. It's hard to stay positive when it seems like every time I totally fail. I'm sick of it. I just want Mom to come back so we can get out of here.”

“There has to be a way to defeat whatever it is. And we will, we just have to find the right way.”

“I hope so,” I said.

We walked through the kitchen and onto the back porch. A smothering layer of humidity blanketed the air. The heat made me feel even weaker, but I drew strength from Wolf's confidence. He was sure we could beat this thing—even if I wasn't.

“All right,” Wolf said. “Let's get it over with.” He grinned at me. “Bet I can pitch it way out in the middle.”

“From here?”

“No, I'll have to get a little closer.”

“I'll wait here while you do it,” I said, taking a seat on the porch.

A cool breeze stirred, rich with the smell of fresh cut grass and morning dew.

Wolf hiked deeper into the backyard. “I think this is close enough. What do you think?”

“I think you need to get closer.”

“What? No way. I can totally rock this shot from here.”

Wolf raised his hand. Behind him, something moved in the grass. I locked my eyes on it, watching as it rustled closer and closer.

“Wolf!”

He tossed the skull just as I called his name, throwing off his aim. The skull landed with a splash in the pond, but nowhere close to the middle.

“You screwed up my shot!”

“I thought I saw something.” I pointed to the weeds. “In there, in the grass.”

Wolf examined the area. The grass remained still. “I don't see anything.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

The grasses waved to one side. Wolf stared into the weeds again. He put a finger to his mouth, signaling me to be quiet. He crept closer. Watching.

Wolf shrugged. “I don't see anything.”

“Come back,” I said, waving him toward the house. All I could think about was the thing that had chased Benny and I when we first arrived, the creature that had crawled out of the swamp, the blood oozing down Wolf's arm after being attacked on the lawnmower. Then it suddenly came to me. Maybe all these things were just one evil force. Trying to scare us, to keep us away—or worse. But why?

Wolf followed me inside and after we washed up, we went into the living room. I had to rest again or I was going to collapse. Wolf sat beside me. I couldn't believe he'd want to get that close. Even as sick and gross as I felt, he didn't seem to mind it, at all. He was totally cool about it, plague and all, his friendship seemed so unconditional. It helped me to relax—to just be me, to let loose of the control and crippling self-consciousness.

A car door slammed outside. “Someone's here.” I got up and peered out the window.

My heart dropped. Officer Cain was back, holding his hat in his hands. Was he going to give me bad news about Mom? Every ounce of me wanted to run, so I wouldn't have to face what he was going to tell me.

The cop reached out to knock on the door, but I opened it before he could. “Did you find my mom? Is she okay?”

“No, we haven't, Ms. Moore.” He frowned, studying my face. “Are you feeling all right?”

I shook my head. “Not really, but I'll live. I hope. Have you found out anything?”

“Nothing yet. I did file a missing person's report and I have people searching the vicinity where the bus was found. Um, there's another matter. I have someone here that needs to speak with you.” He nodded at the police car and my heart skipped. I knew this routine. It was some welfare agency telling me I could no longer be in charge of Benny.

“You want to step out here and talk to this gentleman? He refused to come in. Something about the old place makes him uneasy, I guess.”

A heavy-set man sat in the back of the squad car, nervously dabbing his head with a red handkerchief.

“Child welfare?”

“No, no,” the cop said putting up his hands. “It's nothing like that. He said he has something he wants to give you. Something that belongs to you.”

Wolf nudged me. “I'll go with you.”

We walked down the front steps to the side of the squad car. The man inside forced a smile and rolled down the window.

“Ms. Moore, I'm Howard Denton.” He handed me a business card. “I'm an estate attorney from New Orleans.”

I read the card and frowned. “What's this all about?”

“I represent your father's estate.”

“My father? I don't have a father. You must have me confused with someone else.”

“No, I certainly do not. I take it your mother didn't tell you?”

“Tell me what? Mr. Denton, not to be rude, but I don't feel good. Could we hurry this up, so I can go sit back down?”

He opened the car door and eyed the house. “Guess it wouldn't do any harm to sit on the porch for a spell, so we can talk things over.”

Denton stepped out of the car, appearing way overdressed in his tweed suit and silk tie. With every step toward the porch, his black leather dress shoes creaked under the strain of his weight. He lowered himself onto the porch beside me and Wolf stood close by, listening.

“Let me ask you a question,” Denton said, tucking the handkerchief in his pocket. “When you first came here, did you feel any kind of connection to this place?”

“Connection?” I grimaced. “Not hardly. Why?”

“Your father's name was Luther Cobb. He passed away a few weeks ago. At the time of your birth, he was a prominent criminal attorney from New York, but he was also a married man. Because of this, he needed to remain discreet about his affair. He had an arrangement with your mother, one that included keeping his true name from you. Not that any of that matters now, but upon his death, he wished the house and land to be given to you.”

My eyes widened. “
This
place?”

“Yes, he retained me because he needed someone in Louisiana who could handle the estate. I sent word to your mother when I received notice that your father had passed. One of the conditions of your parent's arrangement was that your mother would stay in touch with me, to let your father know through me how you were doing, how you were getting along. When I spoke with her on the phone, she thought you'd be thrilled with a permanent place to call home. Pardon my saying this, Ms. Moore, but in speaking with your mother it sounds as if you all had it pretty rough. Moving around and so forth. Your mother couldn't wait to surprise you.”

“She told me it was just a job." My eyes stung with tears. “If all this is true, then what about the real estate office?”

“They were just holding the keys for me, and I paid them to keep the place up. Guess they didn't do such a great job.”

“That's partly my fault,” Wolf said. “I'm the only one willing to come here since the place creeps everyone out. I was busy with other things and finally got around to it. I still have lots to do.”

“Looks like you got a good start, young man. You certainly have your work cut out for you. Most people who live ‘round the Bayou know the history here and I don't blame them for not wanting to get too close. To be honest, I don't like coming out here myself.”

“You're sure about all this, Mr. Denton?” I asked.

The man nodded. “Sure as sunshine. You've heard the story of this place by now, I assume?”

I nodded. “Some general and his family were poisoned by one of their slaves.”

Mr. Denton's face hardened. “Your father was the general's great-great-grandson.”

My mouth dropped open. “How can that be? The general and the whole family died.”

“That's the rumor, but one child, Jacob Cobb, survived and went to live with the general's brother, Eleazor Cobb. He never returned to this place.” Denton reached into his pocket. “Here are the keys and copies of the will. My card is clipped to the will. The rest of the paperwork and details we can discuss later, when you're feeling better.”

“Thank you,” I said, stunned.