He opened it up and began looking through the table of contents. There were chapters on all kinds of Appalachian myths and legends, but towards the end of the book was a chapter entitled, Cults and Secret Societies of Appalachia. Grant swallowed, nerves cooling his spine. He turned to the chapter and began scanning the sub-headings. He got to one that made him gasp, The Banishing of Kaletherex.
“You okay, sweetie?”
Grant jumped, dropped the book in his lap. Jazy stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts. With the morning light behind her, she was hotter than ever. “Yeah, fine,” he said, hoping she didn't notice the tremor in his voice.
“What's that you're reading?”
“Oh, just going through some of dad's stuff, you know. Trying to decide what to keep, what to throw away or give to charity.”
“Uh-huh.” She rang her tongue slowly over her lips. “So, what about that idea of you and me going away for a few days?”
The nerves and unspent energy that were making Grant twitchy didn’t dissipate. “You seem pretty anxious to go away right now.”
A flash of annoyance darkened her eyes for a moment, then it was gone. She smiled and peeled the t-shirt off, stood before him unashamedly, and amazingly, naked. “We can put the trip off for an hour or two if you want breakfast,” she said.
Grant stared at her for a long time, trying to ignore his body’s insistent and obvious desires. He tore his eyes away. “I can't, not right now.”
Her voice was suddenly hard, angry. “Are you serious?”
He refused to look up at her again, but stood and gathered his discarded clothes from the night before, began pulling them on. “I'm really sorry, Jazy, I'd love to take off with you, but I just have to… You know, I have to…” This was wrong. Everything here was all wrong.
“Have to what?” Her tone was cold.
“I have so much stuff to do with my dad's things.” He stuffed the paperback book into the back pocket of his jeans, dragged on his shirt. The finger in the top pocket twitched and writhed momentarily.
Jazy stalked past him, collected her own clothes from the floor. As she dressed she said, “I can't believe you're turning me down.” Something in her eyes scared him. A deep, abiding hatred seemed to have sprung up from nowhere and burned into him relentlessly.
He felt the need to reassure her, if only to not make any more of an enemy here. “I'm not turning you down, Jazy, really. I just have so many things on my mind. Let me get some stuff sorted out today and we can come back here later and…”
“Take me back to town, Grant.”
He reached for her. “Come on, Jazy, don't be…”
She slapped his hand away. “Take me back to town.”
A glacier had descended between them and Grant knew it was pointless to try to do anything about it. “Okay.”
They drove back down to Wallen's Gap in icy silence. The book pressed uncomfortably into Grant's backside, but he didn't want to move it anywhere that Jazy might see it. The finger in his pocket jerked and twitched occasionally. When they reached the main street, he drove slowly, wondering what to do, what to say. He pulled up at a T-junction and Jazy opened the door and got out.
“Hey!” he called after her, stunned. “Hey, Jazy, come on.”
She walked away without a word or a backward glance.
Chapter 14
Grant walked into the Cup Of Joe diner, feeling thoroughly bemused. He needed coffee and time to think. What exactly had happened this morning? His suspicions grew on each other like mold on old bread, hideous and consuming. More than ever he wanted to get into his car and drive away, far from Wallen's Gap, and never look back. But it seemed that Jazy had been determined to make him do just that and he couldn't help wondering why. Her mood, her disposition toward him, had changed so quickly and so dramatically. Over his confusion, his guilt sat heavier than anything else. He couldn't get thoughts of Cassie from his mind and felt as though he’d let her down. But he didn't know what to do. The finger in his shirt pocket writhed almost constantly and he couldn't bring himself to look at that either. It felt as much a danger as it might be a help, and how the hell could a disembodied finger keep moving around anyway? For some reason, though, it was important to keep it with him, though he had no idea why. Surely he was losing his mind, hallucinating, imagining conspiracies everywhere.
On the counter were various candies for sale. One was a tin of small, round breath mints. He forced a smile to man behind the counter as he bought a tin, even though the man looked at him like he was a giant walking turd that was smearing up the diner by its presence alone. Grant went directly from the counter into the bathroom and tipped the contents of the small tin into the garbage bin. He took the finger from his shirt pocket, refusing to even look at it, and pushed it into the tin, which he jammed deep into the hip pocket of his jeans. He wanted to throw the hideous thing away, but something compelled him to keep it. Even though it darkened the edges of his mind, laid a stain on his very soul, he couldn't get rid of it, couldn't even leave it behind somewhere. He had to keep it with him, even if he had no explanation why. At least now he wouldn't constantly feel its horrible movements.
He pulled the book from his back pocket, thumbed through to the chapter on the banishing of Kaletherex. He read the first few paragraphs, standing in the coolness of the bathroom. It talked of a man who had moved to Wallen's Gap when it was little more than a camp, and how that man had uncovered the activity of a very nasty group of people praising a thing called Kaletherex. A daemon the book said. Grant paused, shook his head. A demon?
He read on.
The man who arrived in Wallen's Gap was appalled at the things this group did in the name of the daemon Kaletherex. He vowed to put an end to their deviant ministry, even if it killed him. This chapter is the best account of this legend I could put together, collected from various members of the Wallen's Gap community, though I should point out that getting any information at all was not easy. The people of this remote mountain town are distrustful of outsiders and reluctant to share any knowledge of this old myth. Most claim to have never even heard of it. But a few bits and pieces of information began to surface and I was able to put together this account, of how that weary traveler took on and supposedly banished the demon Kaletherex. That man's name was Josiah Brunswick and this, to the best of my ability, is his story.
Grant stopped reading the old professor's words, his blood turning to icicles in his veins. Josiah Brunswick? Like Cassie Brunswick? Was it even vaguely possible they were related? In a town like this, it was highly unlikely that two unrelated families would shard the same surname. He needed to learn more about this and quickly. He stuffed the book back into his pocket and headed out into the diner. He needed a big coffee while he sat and read the rest of the account.
He pushed open the bathroom door and stepped out, and something hard struck him across the cheek. With a cry of pain and surprise, he fell to one knee, his vision blurred.
“You just can't take any kind of hint, can ya?” Jesse Stallard said, and kicked him in the ribs.
Pain blossoming through his chest Grant hurled himself at Jesse, and caught him on the chin with a hard right cross. Jesse staggered back and Grant bore him to the ground. But, before he could do any damage, Jed and Cliff were on top of him. He struggled to break loose as they hauled him to his feet, but the two were strong, and held his arms in twin vise grips. Jesse kicked him in the groin and Grant's knees gave way. Next he knew, the three brothers set to punching and kicking him as he curled up in a ball and tried to shield himself from the worst of the blows. He caught sight of the diner's owner standing by the front door, one hand on the lock as he watched the street outside.