Authors: Unknown
The landscape around me changed. Dried, brown grass crunched beneath my feet. At the edge of the circular area where I stood, oak trees sprouted around me. The leaves rustled from a dry wind that blew across my face.
The shadowy figure of Stratton hovered in front of me. His blond head nodded in a bow. “Thank you for protecting my family.”
I lowered my fists and touched his arm. No electrical sparks shot up my arm. I swished my fingers through the wispy image. “Are you dead?”
“Not yet. I linger nearby as long as my family is in jeopardy.”
“Lisa and Monica?” I asked although I already knew.
He nodded in confirmation. “Their lives are in great danger from the demon who invaded my body.”
“I know. I’ve fought him several times in my dreams, and I know what he’s capable of.” I’d also seen firsthand the beating he’d inflicted on Lisa and Monica. “How can I rid your body of the demon?”
“He grows stronger. You must vanquish him soon.”
“But how?”
“Kill him.”
“The demon?”
“No. The body of Kyle Stratton.”
I couldn’t contain my laughter. “I can’t kill a man even if his body is infested by a demon.”
“You must. That’s the only way to make the demon leave the body. Then you can drive him into the pit of Hell.” A breeze swirled his shadowy figure into a spiral and whisked him into the hollow of an oak tree. His voice blew on the wind. “You must kill the man to destroy the demon.”
My laughter echoed all around me. A breeze swished across my arm. My name drifted through the air. I opened my eyes.
Monica stood beside me. Her hand brushed at my forearm. Her other hand rose to her mouth. A single finger pressed against her lips. “Lisa is asleep,” she whispered.
A second or two passed before reality set in and I realized where I was. I swiped one hand across my face to remove the grogginess. “I think I was too.”
“You were sound asleep,” she confirmed. “You must have been having a pleasant dream. You were laughing in your sleep.”
“It wasn’t that funny.” My gaze drifted to Lisa’s head resting in my lap. “Is she a light sleeper?”
She shrugged. “Sometimes.”
I lifted the pillow that held her head and slid out from under her. “Do you want me to carry her to bed?”
“That won’t be necessary. You may leave. I didn’t intend to be this late.”
I didn’t have on a watch so I glanced around for a clock, but didn’t see one. “What time is it?”
“About ten. Do you need a ride home?”
I shook my head. “Carson is waiting at Sherry’s house for me to call.”
She grabbed her purse from the coffee table and dug inside. “You may use my cell.”
“First, I’d like to know about your husband.”
“He’s…doing better.” She offered me the phone. “He’s been heavily sedated again.”
“I mean, about the demon possession.”
Her back stiffened. She glanced at Lisa asleep on the couch before looking at me. “What are you talking about?”
I cocked my head to one side while studying her. From her uptight expression, she knew exactly what I meant. “I’ve heard the rumors. How much is true?”
“Rumors? Good god.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Has Lisa been subjected to vicious gossip?”
“I don’t think so.” My forehead wrinkled while I thought. “If anybody said something mean to her, I’d know about it. Lisa keeps her emotions on the surface and I’d see her pain.”
“Yes, she does. That’s why I worry about her.” She grabbed my wrist and practically dragged me to the kitchen. “You’re a good friend to her. If any cruel gossip surfaces, I hope you’ll try to protect her from it.”
“I already am protecting her…and you.”
“Me?” One dark eyebrow lifted. “From what?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk about. I need to know what happened to your husband.”
She turned away and paced around the kitchen. “Kyle had a nervous breakdown.”
“Monica, if you’re not going to be straight with me, I can’t help you.”
“Just how are you going to help?” A muffled laugh snorted from her lips. She turned back to me. “You’re nothing more than a child.”
“Since the first day I met Lisa, I’ve been having these dreams—nightmares, actually. An ugly, deformed looking creature with blood–red eyes attacks me and tries to kill me. Does this mean anything to you?”
“No, but I’m certain a psychiatrist would have a field day with it.”
Monica might be difficult to get through to, but I needed her help. Her husband had just asked me to kill him. But how could I tell her that? She’d think I was a psychopath. “Lisa sometimes appears in my nightmares. The scabby looking thing is trying to harm her too.”
“They’re just dreams.” She shrugged. “Dreams aren’t real.”
“Maybe, but in one of my dreams, a man appeared. He asked me to protect his family. I didn’t know who he was until I met him tonight. That man was your husband.”
Her gaze burned into my eyes, as if she tried to dig into my soul. “Is this some sick attempt to get closer to Lisa?”
I almost laughed even though it wasn’t funny. “Lisa and I are already close. I don’t need to invent some wild story. But I hoped you could help me understand the nightmares and put an end to them.”
“Tell me more about these nightmares of yours.” The heat in her glare came down a notch.
My mind flew back to the first time I’d seen Stratton in my dreams. “I stood on a rocky ledge watching a man hike up a trail. That man was your husband. He stumbled and fell. I rushed to him, but when I turned him over, his body changed into this big, vicious looking creature. Then, he tried to rip out my throat.”
“Well, if nothing else you have a vivid imagination.”
“My dreams are very vivid. I could see every detail. His blue eyes and blond hair, only it was shorter than today. He wore a khaki–colored shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Pants the same color tucked into high, laced up, black boots. A green, wide brimmed, cloth hat. He carried an orange backpack. Oh, and a pink water bottle.”
“Lisa gave him that.” Her gaze moved away from me. “Go on.”
“That’s about it.”
“Anyone could come up with that story.” She drummed her fingers on her chin as she paced the kitchen floor. “Kyle was found near Big Rock Pillar. Don’t you live around there?”
“I know what you’re getting at. You think I might’ve been there when he was found, or maybe heard the details from one of the rescue workers. You believe what you want, but I’m not making this up.”
“I’m not really certain what to believe.”
“Then explain this. When I walked into that psych ward tonight, your husband was practically comatose. But the closer I got to him, the more agitated he became. He wasn’t trying to hurt you or Lisa. He was after me. He wanted to kill me. The two of you just got in his way.”
The color seemed to drain from her face. She pulled out a chair and sat at the kitchen table. “That’s how it appeared to me, but I didn’t understand it at the time.”
I grabbed a fancy glass with flowers painted around the rim and filled it from the faucet. “You look like you need this.”
She glanced at the full glass of water setting in front of her. “I need something stronger than this. There’s a bottle of chardonnay in the refrigerator.”
I preferred she stayed sober in case Lisa needed her during the night, but if a glass of wine would loosen her up so she’d talk, I wasn’t going to argue. I grabbed the bottle from the fridge and plopped it down in front of her. “Do you want a different glass, or can I just dump the water out of that one?”
All I got was a disgusted look. She slid out of the chair and rummaged through a drawer and cabinet. When she came back to the table, she had a corkscrew and wine glass. “It’s obvious you’re not a wine drinker.”
“No, ma’am. I’m only a senior in high school.”
“I know. I can see that disapproving attitude that comes with the superiority of youth, but you have no idea what I’ve been through these last few months.”
“Then tell me about it.” I uncorked the bottle and splashed the wine into the long stemmed glass. “How did your husband get this way?”
“I don’t know.” She glugged down a couple long sips. “He drove up to the Capay Valley over a long weekend to do some research. He’d called me a couple of times. His last call was Saturday afternoon. I didn’t hear from him after that and by Sunday evening, I became worried, so I notified the authorities. The next day, the searchers found him wandering in the hills, but he turned violent. He severely beat one of them. They said he babbled incoherently in some sort of Spanish dialect no one understood. He’s been in 3B North ever since.”
“Had he ever spoken Spanish before?”
“Of course.” She looked at me like I was stupid. “He’s fluent in several Spanish dialects.”
I took a seat in the chair across from her so I wouldn’t miss anything. “What made you first believe he was possessed by a demon?”
“His research notes. I don’t think Kyle suspected anything, but after this happened, I went over his work. I’m familiar with the occult and mystical religions, so I could pick up on the subtext. There were…subtleties. Veiled references to an evil force.”
“Lisa said her dad was researching information found in an old logbook of some Spanish conquistador.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Lisa talked to you about her father’s condition?”
“All she said about her father was he was sick, but when we drove past Big Rock on the way to Cache Creek, she mentioned his research of some old book.”
“The book belonged to the ship’s navigator. The majority of the text contained information about their journey. They were searching for gold, of course, but after a while the navigator wrote about their commander’s escalading barbaric behavior. You have to realize that what we, in a modern society, consider cruel, five hundred years ago might’ve been condoned, particularly for an invading military force of fortune seekers. So when the navigator wrote of the depravity he witnessed, then the commander’s behavior had to have become exceedingly savage.”
I cut to the chase. “What you’re saying, or better yet, what the navigator was getting at, was he thought the commander was possessed by a demon.”
“Exactly. According to the last part of the text Kyle translated, the ship sailed into the San Francisco Bay and travelled up the Sacramento River. The conquistadors wintered over on land, probably near Verona or Knights Landing. That spring when the creeks were high, a half dozen men travelled with the same number of indigenous people by small boats in quest of
Cibola—
the Seven Cities of Gold. I believe that was just a ruse to lead the commander onto sacred ground near Big Rock Pillar and rid him of the demon.”
She put the wine glass to her lips and took a couple sips.
When she didn’t continue, I prodded further. “Did the book say if they’d been successful?”
“The last page of the logbook was written in a different hand. The commander, navigator, and others had not returned. The remaining men planned to sail home. Evidently, they didn’t make it. The logbook ended up hidden away in a mission until it was discovered about ten years ago.”
She swiped one hand across her forehead. “You probably think all this is rubbish.”
“Not really. A lot of unexplained things happen all the time. Your husband went looking for a five hundred year old demon. Seems like he found it—or it found him.”
“Great.” She chugged down the last of the wine and refilled the glass. “I’ve got a high school kid who believes my story. Now what? That doesn’t change the fact that my husband is locked up in the crazy ward.”
I propped my elbow on the table and rested my chin on my fist. “Is it true you brought in an exorcist?”
“Good god.” She buried her face in her hands. “Does everyone know everything?”
“What happened with the exorcist?”
“As soon as the priest started the ceremony, Kyle became agitated, pretty much the same as with you. He attacked Father Lester and a couple staff workers. They dragged him away, kicking and screaming.” Her head rose, and her eyelids narrowed. “That isn’t the way it happened with you. Why did Kyle become hostile the moment he saw you?” Her stare was intense, like she thought I had the answer.
“I don’t know. I was about five feet away when he freaked out.” A shiver crept up my spine as I recalled how the back of his head snapped up. “Before he even saw me, he knew I was in the room.”
Her attention went back to the wine glass. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”
“I wish I knew the answer. I’m getting sick of these nightmares.” I rubbed at my tired eyes. “Does a demon in the form of a hairy, scabby rat–man mean anything to you?”
“No, but I can do some research.” Her eyelids narrowed as she glanced at me. “Has anyone else in your family ever had prophetic dreams or visions? Your mom or dad?”
“Definitely not my mom. My dad died when I was young.” Something stopped me from telling her more. I’d only known about this gift of mine for a short time and wasn’t ready to discuss it right now.
“How would you feel about talking to a psychic medium? He might be able to interpret your dreams so the meaning is clearer.”