The Book Waitress Series Volume One (11 page)

“Hi there.” He gave her the sweetest smile and kissed her palm. “You’re alive and safe, sweetheart.”

“Victor?”

“I had to empty an entire clip of bullets into him to get to you. The police have him now.”

She inched her way up to a sitting position and looked around her. Victor lay shackled to a gurney with police surrounding him. As they lifted him into the ambulance, he cackled and rambled on about Hell’s Portal being opened and Satan unleashing untold evil upon the world.

Her stomach roiled and she shook uncontrollably at seeing him still alive. “He’s still alive. How is he still alive?”

“Don’t listen to him, Camille.” He tried to calm her down. “He’s a lunatic. They’ll put him away for a good long time.”

She wouldn’t be soothed and grabbed his collar. He had to mind to her. He needed to know the truth of it. “We have to listen to him. He’s right. I helped Satan open the portal. Evil’s been unleashed. I saw it myself. I have to stop it, Derek. Somehow, I have to keep evil from spreading.”

“Okay, okay. I hear you.”

“Do you really? Have you seen my arms and legs? My stomach and eyes? Derek, I’ve been marked and opened Hell’s doorway so now all manner of evil can come through and wreak havoc here on earth. I started this and I have to finish this. I
have
to find a way to close that portal.” She tried to get up but the pain from her open wounds tore through her, taking her breath away, and she cried out.

He held her gently but with strength she knew she could count on. “You’re not in this alone, Camille. I won’t leave you to face this on your own. And I can document every step of this journey. Let’s focus on the positive for now. You’re alive, Zachary Michaels is alive, and the cult members are being rounded up. It’s over, Camille. It’s over.”

She looked him square in the eye. “Oh, Derek, I’m afraid it’s only just begun.”

Chapter One

Sirens heralded the arrival of angels. Well, to her they were angels. In reality, men dressed in blue rushed over to her and shoved the real savior, Derek, out of the way. They didn’t need to say anything. The looks of horror on their faces said it all. Camille was a bloody mess. Literally.

“Okay, let’s get down to work.” The buff one, with a stethoscope around his thick neck, leaned over and asked a myriad of questions all leading up to a determination of her status. Another, leaner, smaller man put an IV in her arm. They hoisted her onto a gurney and into the ambulance with her protector following close behind.

“Let me ride with her,” he pleaded, grabbing hold of the buff one’s arm. Through watery eyes she watched, with growing tenderness toward him, as he plied the two with all manner of excuse just to be able to stay with her. But they wouldn’t be swayed. Tough crew. She would have let him ride along simply on the merits of his puppy dog, turquoise eyes alone.

“Sorry, buddy. No room, but you can follow in your car.” The guy quickly closed the back doors.

She heard Derek continue his efforts in making a fuss. He banged on the doors and swore to the holy heavens, but it was a lost cause. They drove off, leaving him in the dirt and her to wondering where they were going. After being kidnapped by Victor, The Mission’s cult leader, she wouldn’t trust so easily anymore.

She strained against the straps holding her captive, a wave of paranoia spreading through her system like wildfire. Bells and buzzers went off. “Where are you taking me?”

“Easy, Ms. Dutton, easy. We’re going to Mercy General Hospital. You’ll be taken to the ER for observation.” The lean one patted her shoulder. “My name is Jim. I’ve been doing this for fifteen years. Mercy General is great. They’ll take good care of you. Both my kids were born there.” He smiled, and his words calmed her a bit.

She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Suddenly, a screeching, like nails on a chalkboard, flooded her ears, and a jarring pain erupted through her belly that spread to her arms and legs. Her eyes flew open, fully expecting to see someone with a branding iron searing her flesh. “Ahh!” Had she not been restrained on the stretcher, she’d be doubled over, and she yanked on Jim’s shirtsleeve.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ahh! That sound!” She swatted at her belly, arms, and legs. “And
I’m on fire!”

He checked her over and sat back on the bench. “Ma’am, I’m not hearing anything out of the ordinary, and you’re not on fire. Your wounds are raw, though. Please try and relax. We’re almost there.”

“They’re burning me, I’m telling ya! The cuts….” As quickly as the sound and pain appeared, they vanished, leaving her perplexed and drained. Limply, she lay back and closed her eyes. Tears leaked out the corners of her eyes, as efforts to hold back her despair completely failed.

“What’s to become of me? I’m marked for death, for Satan. He’ll never stop until he gets what he wants. Oh, dear God, help me. Mama, I’m sorry I fell in the pool. I’m sorry I brought Evil here. I’m so sorry.” Her voice trailed off as she dozed from sheer exhaustion.

***

“Ms. Dutton, can you hear me? Wake up, Ms. Dutton. Scott, these wounds are extensive and look like they’ve been done by a professional. There’s gonna be considerable scarring. Call plastic surgery down here. Ms. Dutton, you’re gonna be just fine. Are you listening? Wake up.”

She tossed her head back and forth, shaking off a nightmare, and thrust herself back into reality. Her eyes fluttered open and settled upon a stark white ceiling. An antiseptic odor offended her nose and burned her throat. As awareness improved, she answered in a gravelly voice, “I hear you.”

“Good. Now, you’re gonna be fine, but we have to work on these wounds. How did you get them?”

“A woman wearing scrubs did this to me. I was kidnapped and supposed to be part of a sacrifice by a satanic cult. That’s what these markings are for.”

“Well, we’ll do the best we can to make them disappear, but I can’t make any promises. They aren’t simply cuts, you see.”

“I know, Doctor,” she said, resigned. “She etched me like a piece of artwork. She removed curls of skin as she carved and showed them to me.”

The one called Scott shook his head and patted her hand. “Dr. Landry from plastic surgery should be here any minute. She’s the best and can tell you more about what to expect. We’ve given you some pain medication, so you should be feeling more comfortable now, and Nurse Chloe will clean you up. Your friend is waiting anxiously outside, so once she’s done he can come in. All right?”

“Yes, thank you.”

A nurse walked in with a basin, a rag, and a smile. She stood beside her after the doctors left and began cleaning away the dried blood and washed out the wounds. Camille closed her eyes during the procedure, imagining Nurse Chloe as her mom, instead.

“All cleaned up and dressed. I’ll send your friend in now, but when the plastic surgeon comes down, he’ll have to wait outside.”

“Thanks.” She managed to offer a weak smile.

A moment alone seemed too much for her. Her heart rate exploded and she shook with irrational fear. She never wanted to be alone again. Derek appeared by the curtain with a scowl that quickly dissolved into a relieved grin. He rushed to her side and scooped her up in his arms, replacing the gurney with himself as her bed.

“Hey, sweetheart, how are you doing? My God, you’re shaking like a leaf. It’s okay. I’m here.” He feathered light kisses on her temple and smoothed away her damp, matted hair.

“I’m all wet still,” she admonished. “You’re gonna get soaked.”

“I don’t care. You’re alive. That’s all that matters.”

“Thanks to you.” She paused before continuing in a hushed voice. “You tore me away from ‘You Know Who’s’ grasp. I was nearly gone. He had me. I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me. Ahh!” She grasped at her ears and her body went rigid.

“What? What is it?” He jumped up with her in his arms and put her back on the gurney.

“I can’t bear that screeching sound, and my cuts are burning me again! Oh God!” She writhed on the stretcher while he looked on, wide-eyed, not knowing what to do for her.

“Oh, dear Lord,” she sighed and closed her eyes. “It’s stopped.”

“What the hell was that all about?”

“I don’t know,” she croaked. “It happened while I was in the ambulance, too.” Before they could discuss things any further, a doctor, wearing scrubs, a surgical cap, and mask, pushed the curtain aside and gave him the signal to leave. She closed the curtain behind her.

“Hello, Ms. Dutton. My name is Dr. Landry, and I’ll be attending to your wounds.”

Something about her voice sent prickles of apprehension across her skin. “Okay.”

The doctor offered her a hospital gown. “Here. It’ll be easier for me if you put this gown on, instead of what you have on now. Those gowns are not exam-friendly, especially not for what I have to do. Keep the opening in the front, and let me know when you’re ready.” She stepped out, leaving her to analyze why the nerves in her arms and legs had begun twitching.

She took off the other hospital wear, dropped it to the floor, and put the gown on as requested. “I’m ready.”

Dr. Landry stepped back in the curtained area and began her assessment. She opened the gown to reveal Camille’s stomach, and whispered, “Ah, my handiwork is holding up well, I see. You’re my finest work yet.”

“Wh…what?” She gasped as realization crept in and blinding panic took hold. She pointed a shaky finger and ripped the mask from the doctor’s face. “You’re…
you’re Melissa
!” She immediately wrapped herself up in the sheets, and screamed as loudly as possible.

“Derek! Somebody!
Help!”
She grabbed anything she could get her hands on and threw it at the psycho doctor.

He flung the curtain wide open. “What’s the matter?”

“
She’s
the one who did this to me! Don’t let her get away, Derek! Someone call the police!”

Grabbing Melissa, he wrestled her to the floor while nurses and doctors flooded into the area.

“Get off of me! This is
preposterous.
” The plastic surgeon struggled to free herself, but he was too strong. “She’s
lying!
I’ve never seen her before in my life! This patient needs a psych eval. She’s having delusional thoughts, and assaulted me!
Security!”

Chaos swirled around her, and the next thing she knew she was being wheeled into a private room, restraints wrapped around her wrists and ankles. “I’m not the one who needs restraining!
Listen to me.”
She whipped her head back and forth, beseeching the people surrounding her on either side. “That ‘
doctor’
did this to me. She made these cuts on me. She belongs to The Mission. Please, you must listen! Don’t let her get away. My boyfriend knows. Ask him.”

The nurses and security guards that brought her to the private room nodded and told her to calm down, but she wouldn’t. Until she saw Melissa in handcuffs, she couldn’t even think straight. “God damn it! Son of a bitch!” Wracked with searing pain on her wounds yet again, she fought against the bindings and lost. A slight prick in her arm and the world swirled away.

Chapter Two

“So, you’re going to believe Dr. Landry without question? You’re not even going to check the validity of Camille’s assertions? Are you part of The Mission, as well? Is that it?”

“I’m pressing charges!” Melissa chimed in.

Derek fumed. He knew his face and neck were flushed from the heat pouring off of him. One of the security guards had pulled him off of Melissa and handcuffed him to a chair in the ER waiting room, while another helped the doctor to her feet. She stood there with a satisfied grin on her face, rubbing her arms as though he’d bruised her.

“You need to calm down, Mr. Galloway.” The first security guard walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder, then took out a notepad and pen. “We’ll sort this all out, and we’ll do it safely and orderly. Would you care to tell me why you think Dr. Landry caused the wounds on Ms. Dutton’s body?”

“Hey, I said I want to press charges,” she interjected. “Isn’t anyone going to talk to me?”

The guard turned to her and said, “Just a moment, Dr. Landry. Sutter will take your statement. Now, Mr. Galloway, as you were saying?”

“I’m an investigative reporter, Officer, here doing an expose about the missing children on this island over the past thirty-six years. The Mission is a satanic cult that planned to sacrifice a child, Zachary Michaels, and my girlfriend, Camille, tonight. Those cuts on her body were in preparation for it. Check with the police from the mainland. They’ve already begun rounding up members of the cult. Go on and call. After, you can take these handcuffs off of me and put them on the right person. If she says Dr. Landry is to blame, I believe her. Why don’t you go ask her yourself?”

“That’s my next stop. Sutter?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” The other security guard shouted over.

“Handcuff Dr. Landry until I finish questioning Ms. Dutton. Also, call over to the mainland police and find out what the hell is going on around here. Have them send someone over, too.”

“You got it.” Sutter handcuffed her to another bank of chairs.

“
What?
Are you crazy?” She struggled to free herself. “You idiots! This is an outrage! I demand to be released
at once
. I have a surgery coming up in half an hour.”

Her demand fell on deaf ears. Derek breathed a sigh of relief as logic and reasoning seemed to return to the people in charge. That relief found its way out of him through a shaky sigh, but his heart rate quickly returned to that of a bird’s as he remembered Camille grimacing and struggling against the pain. From where he sat, he could see nurses and security walk out of her room. One of the nurses spoke.

“Ms. Dutton’s heightened state of agitation and pain made sedation absolutely necessary. All questioning will have to wait until she awakens.”

“Damn it!” He pounded his fist against the arm of the chair.

“Now hold on, Mr. Galloway. If the police confirm your story, we’re onto something. Sit tight and relax. We’re gonna be here a while.”

He leaned back in his seat and groused. He could do nothing more than wait. Maybe sedation would be a good thing for her in the end. At the very least, she wouldn’t be able to feel the mysterious pain.

“Ten minutes. I have exactly ten minutes to get up to surgical and prep. Don’t you people understand? I am the best plastic surgeon in the state and I
chose
to be here. Let me do my job.
Hello?
You know, when The Dark Lord arrives, you’ll all be sorry.”

From totally dismissing the rantings of an egotistical surgeon, everyone did a complete turn-around. All talking ceased and all eyes focused on the doctor.

Before anyone had time to recover, two mainland police arrived and joined the scene. “I’m Officer Gomez. This is my partner Officer Davis. We were down the road when we got a call to come here. What’s going on this evening?”

Derek watched as the security guards and police officers discussed the situation off to the side. When they returned, one of the guards released him from his handcuffs while the other made his way over to Dr. Landry.

“May I go see Camille now? I’ll let you know as soon as she wakes up. I promise.”

“She will never be yours. She belongs to Him now. Doesn’t she look pretty covered in my artistry? All marked and ready for sacrifice.”

“And there’s your admission of guilt, officers.” Derek, triumphant and thoroughly disgusted by her open display, didn’t bother waiting to watch the police take her away. Instead, he headed straight for the room grim faced nurses had walked out of, and removed the bindings that shackled her to the hospital bed. He sat, watching and waiting as the sun set and the moon appeared, for his golden-haired girl to awaken.

***

Camille felt a heavy weight pressing on her lower abdomen, and she found Derek’s arm and shaggy head draped across it when her eyes fluttered open. He’d fallen asleep, and his cherubic face, marred only by some scruff and a dream-laden frown, was a welcome sight. Longing to touch him and be surrounded by his strength and comfort, she tousled his hair to wake him.

“Hey, sleepyhead.”

He stirred and popped up, smiling at her like a schoolboy crushing over his teacher. “How you feelin’?”

“I’m not sure, really.” She inspected her wrists. “I see I’m not bound anymore, so that tells me something good happened while I was out of it. My wounds aren’t blindingly painful at the moment, either.” Her ease faded into panic as questions arose about Melissa. “Where is she? Where’s the bitch that did this to me? Tell me they took her away. Dear God,
please
tell me she won’t be able to get to me anymore.”

“Shh. It’s okay. No more worries about her.” He took her hands in his and nuzzled them. “Before I came to see you, she signed herself over to the psych ward without lifting a finger. She opened her mouth and talked like a possessed person, implicating herself in what she’s done to you.” He stood and reached a hand over to caress her cheek, and she grasped it to hold him there for a moment.

“Thank goodness. For a while there, I thought the world had gone mad. I expected to wake up in a padded room, shackled and in a straightjacket.” Scooting over on the bed, she smoothed out the horrible hospital covers. She didn’t want to waste time weighing her general lack of trust in men against her feelings for him right now. She needed comfort and he was there, showing her he could be relied upon. “Come, lay beside me. I need you and I’m too doped up to be embarrassed about it.”

“It would be my pleasure.” He took off his shoes and joined her, cautiously enveloping her in his warmth and protection.

She sighed with contentment and snuggled in as close as her injuries would allow. “Isn’t it crazy how things happen? I mean, one day, I’m minding my own business at work, and the next I’m thrust into some crazy Twilight Zone episode.”

“I hate to say it, but I think they had their eye on you for a while, and finally found a way to bring you over here without causing suspicion.”

She shivered with that knowledge. Here, she thought she’d been well-insulated by her own design. “I don’t know what would have happened had I not met you. I’d probably be dead at the bottom of a well, I think, with no one the wiser.” She trembled again and he pulled the sheets up and around her exposed shoulder.

“Anyone who should be prosecuted, will be. I’m confident of that now that the mainland police are in charge of this.” He stroked her jawline and kissed her forehead. Her pulse leapt at his tenderness, and she reveled in his affection.

“When can I go home? I don’t want to be here. Melissa knew exactly what she was doing. It’s obvious these markings were made without care to how they’d look in time. I wasn’t supposed to live. But now I’ll be scarred for life. There’s no sense in staying here only to hear what I already know from a plastic surgeon.”

“There’s still the issue of that horrendous pain you feel every now and again. We have to know what’s causing it.”

“Sometimes I hear a horrible screeching sound, too. I remember hearing it and feeling intense pain as Satan touched my marks while I drowned in the well. I wonder if it has something to do with him. Come to think of it, the portal opened at that point. What if….”

“What if your wounds are acting like an alarm system?”

She shoved herself up to sitting and turned to face him, ominous thoughts invading her soul. “Right. What if the pain is letting me know when something is passing through the portal? If that’s the case, no one can make it go away. At least, no one here. And what does that mean for us? Evil things, not of this world, are coming through, and they’re going to interact and insinuate themselves into our lives, or come out blazing and wreak havoc like an apocalypse. We’ve gotta do something to…to close the portal.”

He sat up abruptly to join her. “Whoa, you’re getting way ahead of yourself. I think you’re taking giant leaps in assumption. So, let’s take a couple steps back here. First, these mysterious pains, shall we assume they are some kind of a warning system?”

“Yes, I think we should.” She whisked a few tangled strands away from her eyes and tucked them behind an ear.

“Okay, I think I can go along with that, based on what you’ve told me. As for the rest, how can we prove any of it? How can we distinguish people who have been possessed, shall we say, from people who are just plain bad?”

“I don’t know.” She tapped her fingers in an impatient staccato against her bedrail. “Get me out of here and we can figure it out. Traditional medicine and methods will do me no good. We need to find someone who can deal with the unusual, the supernatural. Know anyone off the top of your head?”

“No, but my mother’s friend is a medium. Maybe she knows someone who can help us.”

Camille swung her legs to the floor in an attempt to stand up, but succumbed to a wave of dizziness. She crumbled like a house of cards, cracking her forearm against the metal gurney.

“Ahhh!”

“Jesus!” He jumped off the bed to crouch beside her. “Are you okay?”

“Damn it all! I’m so dizzy all of a sudden,” she muttered. “Boy, that’s gonna leave a mark, as if I hadn’t enough already. Man, what’d they put in me? I’m feelin’ all sorts of funky.”

He picked her up like the child she’d become and placed her back on the hospital bed. “I think you’re gonna stay put for a day or so, miss. No arguments. I’ll go call my mom and get the ball rolling that way. Don’t move. Doctor’s orders.” He smiled and planted a kiss on her lips that said, in no uncertain terms, that she belonged to him and he belonged to her. It also said that he’d taken over the reins and control in this matter. And she kind of liked it.

With her Loverboy gone for a little while, doctors and nurses whisked in and out of her room, applying salve and bandages, and admitting her overnight for observation. An aide transported her to a semi-private room and a full-size hospital bed. Being alone, meanwhile, gave her ample time to regroup her thoughts, analyze what had happened to her, and come up with some pretty dire conclusions. Her initial impressions didn’t change all that much.

She reflected on her encounter with the Devil, remembering that her marks had glowed and a fiery, searing pain had followed when he’d touched her marks with his clawed finger. She heard a screech and felt pressure swirl around her, as though someone or something were swimming past her, but she hadn’t seen anything.

So, she concluded that she could tell when these creatures from Hell crossed through the portal. But what did they look like? Did they stay in their natural form, or could they change? What will they do now that they’re here? How can they be stopped from doing harm? She had so many questions and answers to none, save for the fact that it was her duty, her
responsibility,
to fix the mess she had a role in creating.

On the cusp of that knowledge surged a wave of burning pain that stole her breath and lit up her hospital gown. In the daylight, she hadn’t noticed how the engravings on her body glowed when the pain surfaced. But now, in the dark of night, she could see the pentagram pulsing beneath her gown, and the inverted crosses flickering through the gauze like candles in a jack o’lantern.

“No! No more!” She screamed, oblivious to all but the pain and the stranglehold The Darkness had on her. “Derek….”

She sensed people rushing around her, but the scene blurred. Things only came back into focus as the pain retreated. She found two nurses frozen where they stood, staring at her, mouths agog. She rolled
over, turning her back to them, and closed her eyes, desperately wanting to deny the horror that was now her life. What would they do with her now? She prayed they would agree to keep it to themselves, seeing as though they’d probably be mocked for reporting such an incident. If they did report it, however, she could find herself in the bed next to the woman who had done this to her.

Fading footsteps told her they’d left her room. She could only wait anxiously to find out what would happen next.

“There you are!” A welcomed voice broke through her frantic, rambling mind, and she turned like a flower bowing toward the sun. “I thought I’d lost you, until someone told me they moved you to a regular room.”

“They admitted me, but I can’t stay here. It happened again. Not the screeching sound, but the pain. And people saw. You may not believe this, but when it happens, I glow. I look like a freakin’ neon sign. The nurses stared at me like they were witnessing a scene from
The Exorcist
. I think they expected my head to spin in circles and split pea soup to spew from my mouth. As though I’m possessed by the Devil, which I guess I kinda am. I don’t know what they’re gonna do, but I do not want to end up next to Melissa, or doped up all the time. Promise me, you won’t let them do that. Promise that you’ll take me out of here in the morning.
Please.”