“Of course, nothing’s been proven. The F.B.I.’s been following a string of missing teens that seem to follow the path of these weirdos. A couple of bodies have turned up. They were killed in some perverted form of Satanic ritual. They haven’t been able to pin it on this group, but they are definitely suspects.”
“That’s worse than a Stephen King novel!”
“You know what they say about truth being stranger than fiction.”
“What are they doing to stop these nuts?”
“There’s not much they can do, except watch them, I guess. There’s no hard evidence to connect the murders to this group. The F.B.I. has tried to get an undercover agent into the group, but it hasn’t worked. You’d have to be really weird in order to fit in, I guess.”
“Where is this guy now?”
“I’m not sure. He was in Rhode Island a week ago. Maybe they’ve moved on by now. They like to stick to the out-of-the-way wooded areas. My guess is that they’re headed north. New Hampshire. Maybe Maine. They could really get lost there.”
“I live out in the country. Chepachet. You don’t think they’d be there, do you?”
“I doubt it. I suspect they’ve gone north. Rhode Island’s too small. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
Erik shook his head in disgust.
“Well,” Steve said. “It’s just about showtime. Hey, listen, don’t tell anyone what I told you about these devil worshippers, ok? It might screw up the investigation if word got out. I wouldn’t share this with the usual weirdos I have on the show, but, like I said, you’re the first normal guest I’ve had in a long time.”
He could see why Steve Harvey made such a good talk show host. The man loved to talk, and could make other people talk as well. Erik suspected that he’d probably told half of Rhode Island about these devil worshippers that were supposed to be so secret. The whole thing was probably just an urban legend. If not, he guessed the talk would force the devil worshippers to move on.
“Don’t worry,” Erik said, wondering how the time had gone so fast.
“Thanks,” Steve said. “Now, let’s go do a show!”
CHAPTER FIVE
1
The two-hour talk show passed quickly as Erik easily fielded questions from local callers. In fact, he relished his new-found role of home town celebrity and promised Steve that he’d return and do another show when the film was released. As usual, most of the callers asked him about films rather than books. It was ironic, he thought, that he, a novelist, should be making his money from the movies. But it was the video age, after all, and he’d come to expect people to be interested in pictures instead of words. Besides, Nicole Kidman and Robert Downey Jr. could sell horror a lot better than he could. Having grown up a fan of horror and science fiction films, he’d had no trouble displaying his expertise to the local audience.
It wasn’t until he was driving home that he thought about Steve’s story of devil worshippers again, and related it to Todd’s experience in the woods. With sudden panic he wondered if Todd might have stumbled into some bizarre Satanic ritual in the woods.
Then again, he suspected Steve Harvey was prone to exaggeration and fiction. But even the remote possibility was frightening enough. The thought of it unnerved him.
And what about Dovecrest? Could he be part of something? It seemed like quite a coincidence that he just happened to go out wandering into the woods last night. And that Todd had just “run into him.” Something didn’t add up. He was convinced that Dovecrest knew more than he was telling. Even that thing about hanging the talisman on the back door was strange.
This whole thing was just too scary. Here he’d moved out of the city to get away from all of the trouble and the violence, and what happens? His son gets the scare of his life on his first trip outside.
Devil worshippers, in this day and age. How weird was that.
Not that he believed in the devil-at least not with the red suit, the horns, and the pitchfork. That image was quite silly, really, something to scare children into doing the right thing. But he did believe in evil. And he’d read enough history to know that sick individuals had been torturing and maiming their fellow humans since the dawn of time-sometimes in the name of Satan, and sometimes even in the name of God.
But this was probably a fabrication, and exaggeration. And even if it wasn’t, this wacko had probably moved on by now, as Steve suspected. He could really get lost in the thick forests of New Hampshire, Vermont, and Maine.
And he was probably jumping to conclusions about Todd. The boy had probably been frightened by the dark, and by his own imagination. Still, Dovecrest troubled him. Something about the Indian just wasn’t right.
He decided to ask his son some specific questions as soon as the opportunity presented itself. He also decided to do a little research on his own about this devil worship crap. If nothing else, he could use it in one of his horror stories. And while he was at it, he intended to check out this Dovecrest character.
He intended to find out everything he could about the place where he now lived, just for his own piece of mind.
2
“Do you want to go out, Faith?”
The cat looked up at the woman-who-feeds and scratched again. The woman-who-feeds obediently opened the door and Faith strolled out into the back yard as if she had all the time in the world-which, in fact, she did. The sunshine felt good, and she dropped to the warm cement of the patio and began to roll, both scratching her back and heating it at the same time. She opened her legs to let the hot afternoon sun beat on her belly before she ventured off to explore new territory. Finally, satisfied with the sun worship, she rolled back onto her feet and sniffed the strange air.
The smells here were different, very different from those of her previous territory. She’d spent yesterday growing accustomed to the new house, marking it with the scent of her fur as she rubbed against the walls and doors and exploring every closet and nook for possible rats, crickets, or other quick, scurrying creatures. To her immense disappointment, the house was completely empty, brand new, and sterile. Her previous house had provided plenty of crickets for her to play with, and even the occasional mouse, which she would torment until it died and then she’d offer it to The Woman Who Feeds as a gift of appreciation. Although the woman never accepted the gift, she always praised her lavishly and gave her special treats in return, so mice were especially prized.
Since this house had offered no challenge to her superior hunting skills, her instincts took her outside. Here, surely, she could find an interesting plaything. Besides, the time had come for her to mark off this new territory as her own.
The air was remarkably clear here, full of many different scents. The city had provided only a thick, dirty smell, which had masked all but the nearest competing scents. This place offered a kaleidoscope of ever changing smells, all waiting to be explored.
The sounds, also, were different. She distinguished the chirps and songs of a number of different kinds of birds, as well as the chorus of millions of insects, and even the sounds of small toads and other animals. She knew the toads and left them alone, just like you didn’t mess with a skunk. But many of the sounds were new and demanded investigation. She licked her lips in anticipation as she moved her eyes quickly back and forth across her yard, seeking the slightest hint of motion. She’d stiffened her tail straight into the air to show the world that this place belonged to her, and when she saw nothing of particular interest scurrying though the grass, she began the methodical task of marking her territory.
She hadn’t detected the scents of any competing cats, so the area, in essence, did belong to her already. Still, instinct declared that she must claim her own turf and she obediently followed that higher command.