“You said there was another time this happened?”
“Yes sir. Happened in 1899. Might have been other times in the past, but I couldn't find no records of it.”
Grant considered this.
“Was there anything special about those dates? Anything that ties them together?”
“I only come up with one thing. A conjunction.” Seeing Grant's confused expression, he continued. “A planetary alignment. Big ones happened in both of those years, right about the times the girls went missing. Of course, it don't make no sense. Kaletherex is about a bunch of crackers putting on robes and doing wrong. Ain't no need to believe in no supernatural.” He waggled his fingers as he said the last word.
“Where are my pants?” Grant asked. “There's something I need to show you.” Amos nodded at a pile of clothes on the bedside table. Grant fished around and found the finger.
“What the hell is that, boy? You been grave robbing?”
“My father hid this along with a book that I think is important to Kaletherex. It… moves sometimes.”
“Sure it does.” Amos nodded, as if indulging a small child.
Grant wanted Amos to believe him. He remembered the first time the finger had moved, he'd been thinking hard about Cassie, wondering where she was and if she was all right. He concentrated on her face. Where are you? Where are you?
“Jesus God Almighty!” Amos came to his feet, upending his chair, as the finger twitched and pointed. “What did you do?”
“I didn't do anything. I don't understand much, but I can tell you there's more to Kaletherex than just a bunch of rednecks getting their jollies. They're up to something bad, Amos, and they've got Cassie.”
Amos ran his hands through his snow white hair and turned on the spot. “Jesus Lord, I didn't believe it. I was sure it was over and done with.”
“What?”
Amos let his hands fall to his side. “There hasn't been a grand conjunction since 1962, but there's going to be another one tomorrow night.”
Chapter 16
“Amos, we have to find her!” Grant ignored his body’s screaming pain and jumped to his feet.
“Now, calm down, son. Let's just think a minute.” Amos laid a hand on his shoulder and gently shoved him back toward the bed.
Grant ignored him. “You said the other times this happened, young girls were found mutilated. If they're aiming to do the same thing again tomorrow night, it stands to reason they're going to use Cassie! Why else would they hide her from us?”
Amos shook his head, his face pained. “You really think old man Brunswick would put his own daughter in the hands of them butchers?”
In fact, Grant thought exactly that, and the sudden conviction made him dizzy. He sank back to the bed, one hand pressed to his ribs. “I've looked in his eyes. He's a cold bastard, sure enough. If these Kaletherex people are as crazy as you say they are, then maybe he would. He's one of them, right?”
Amos nodded. “Yep, I reckon he is. And the Stallards. Hell, most of this goddamn town seems to be in on it sometimes.”
“What made you think it was over?”
Amos sank his face into his palms, shook his head. “It was fifty years ago. I thought maybe I'd half imagined the whole thing.” He looked up, his eyes haunted. “I've kept an eye on things and knew there was another conjunction coming. But everything ‘round here seemed to have settled into some kind of normal. I didn't see any signs like something was happening. Most of the people around back then in '62 are dead and gone. But I guess enough of their kids was old enough then and still around now. The Kaletherex thing has been mighty quiet for a long time. I guess I just hoped it was done with.”
“Fifty years ago it was a lot easier to keep stuff covered up,” Grant said. “These days, news can spread pretty quickly.”
Amos nodded sadly and they sat in silence for a while, both lost in their own grim thoughts. Grant pushed the finger back into its tin and the tin back into his jeans pocket. What could they do? Thoughts of his father drifted through his mind. “Hey, did you know my dad?” he asked.
Amos looked up. “Andrew Shipman? Yeah, I knew him a little bit. He was a nice enough fellow. But he started to hang around with the Brunswicks and Stallards and the others. I had a feeling he got pulled into the Kaletherex cult.”
“He did. But I don't think he liked what he found. At least, I think he changed his mind about them.” Grant tried to order his thoughts, hard as it was with every inch of his body aching and throbbing. “I found that finger in a secret safe in his smokehouse. He had an old, leatherbound book stashed away in there too. I think the book was really important to them, because Mrs. Stallard came around asking about it, and then her sons busted in and stole it back.”
“That right?”
“It had to be them. But they didn't find the finger.” Grant pointed to the pocket of his jeans. “I can't really explain why, but I'm pretty sure that thing is important, might even help us somehow. I think my father was collecting information, trying to find out how to stop them and they killed him for it.”
Amos nodded sadly. “That is entirely possible.”
Grant paused. “They said my dad died of a heart attack.”
Amos barked a bitter, humorless laugh. “They can say whatever they like, son. The doctor, the sheriff, the city council. They're all either in that cult or controlled by them. Ain't nothing in this town happens without their say so.” At Grant's raised eyebrow, Amos flapped one hand. “Oh, you can live your life here peacefully enough if you stay out of their way. They need goods and services and all that same as everyone else. A whole bunch of people live peacefully enough in Wallen's Gap and never cross paths with the cult of Kaletherex. But people disappear if they cause trouble and there ain't many crimes in this town that get investigated like they oughta. Everything gets explained away nice and easy like.”
“How can they get away with that?”
“They's all kinds of things can happen to a body in these hills. Hunting accidents, bad falls, snakebites, wild animals, accidental fires, drunk kids running off of winding mountain roads. Everything just common enough to be believed.”
Grant stared disconsolately at the floor between his feet. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn't just walk away and leave, he owed Cassie more than that. Suzanne’s words echoed in his mind, You never finish anything! Well, he fully intended to finish this, one way or another. But he was scared and not too proud to admit it. And he had precious little to go on. Dark shadows flitted around the edges of his vision. A tugging pulled at his chest, seemingly from the inside. He imagined a black stain trying to push its way out through his ribs. The sensation was nauseating and disconcerting.
“You okay, son?” Amos said, leaning forward. “You look kinda pale there. You should lie down, you took quite a beating.”
Grant shook his head. “It's not that.” He took a deep breath. Crazy hillbillies doing evil things in the name of their wacko religious cult was weird, but it still fell within the realm of expected human behavior. What would Amos think about what he was about to tell him? “That finger I found, it has an effect on me that I can't really explain. Like it's trying to guide me.”
Amos stood, paced a small circle around the room. When he finally looked at Grant, there was no scorn, amusement, or disbelief in his eyes. Strangely, Grant found himself thinking he would have preferred that to the old man's sober expression.
“My Jesus, I could have done lived this lifetime and another without ever seeing that accursed thing and been happy about it.”