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Last Exit Page 5


  “What?” Holding back my nausea, I approached the table. The box had an address on it written in fancy script.

  To: Peri Jean Mace, One Dumb Bitch

  From: Oscar Rivera, Lord of Babylon (AKA The Coachman)

  Panic raked stinging claws over my nerves and worked its way into my thoughts, chewing and tearing. My breath came a little faster. My mouth dried to the consistency of sandpaper.

  A deep, ugly chuckle came from the box.

  Hannah and I both gasped.

  Tubby, face set in anger, pulled the box open and stared in confusion. “This stuff mean anything to you?”

  The stench intensified, but Hannah and I leaned close. She tilted her head to one side. Her mouth opened in slow motion, and she let out a scream.

  I snatched the box away and stared at the contents. For a moment my brain froze. Then it began processing details, one by one, hysteria building at its edges.

  Inside the brown cardboard box sat another box. The cheap plastic kind used to store leftovers. The black-painted duct tape sealing it closed had been cut through and dangled in flaps.

  “The box we sealed Oscar's runes in.” Cold sweat beaded on my forehead. Fear swelled my heart until it ached. I reached for the box and flicked off the lid, even though I knew what I’d find. Sure enough, the runes were gone, all except one.

  “But that hole we threw them in was over a hundred feet deep.” Hannah yelled in my ear.

  I ignored her denial. The proof we’d screwed up sat in front of me. Oscar Rivera had his runes. Somehow, despite my best efforts, I had given them back to him. He now had a gateway to enter back into the living world.

  The mark on the one remaining rune glowed red. It pulsed like a heartbeat.

  Oscar’s voice came from all around me. “I’m coming for you.”

  A red form came up from the rune and flew at me. Hannah shrieked. Too stunned to make a sound, I scrambled backward, got tangled up with Tubby, and fell on my ass.

  Queenie’s cards had been right. First Tanner. Now this. And I still felt the same way. Overwhelmed.

  “I can’t do this again,” I sobbed at Hannah and Tubby.

  Tubby came a little closer and put one hand on my shoulder. “Baby girl, I’m lost. What is this?”

  I sat down at the table, shoved the box out of the way and cried hard. It was just too much for twenty-four hours. When I got control of myself, I used my shirt to wipe my face.

  “Go get Cecil and the rest of the family. I only want to tell it once.” I stood on shaky legs and walked to the bathroom to splash water on my face. Damned if I’d meet them all weepy-eyed.

  An hour later, the cloudy day had already darkened to early night. All of Sanctuary gathered in the RV park’s common area.

  Sanctuary was a traveling community started by Cecil’s parents, my great-grandparents. It included people who had supernatural gifts or dealt in the occult. But it also included people who didn’t fit into regular society for one reason or another. We were cons. It would have killed Memaw to hear me say that, but it was true.

  My family, cousins and my great-uncle and his wife, sat closest to where I’d be speaking. Tubby sat with them. Someone had brought in the cardboard box and set it on the picnic table.

  Cecil, my great-uncle, stood and raised both hands. “Everybody? Let’s get started.”

  Illness had weakened his voice. Nobody heard him. Cecil had been ill the last few months. He’d become a shadow of himself, leading the group mainly from behind me.

  My cousin, Dillon, handed off her youngest child to her husband and stood on their table. She cupped her hands around her mouth and hollered, “Shuuuut Uuuuuuup.”

  That did the trick. People quit talking and turned around in their seats to face where I stood in front of the group.

  “Thank you, Dillon,” I said.

  Several people laughed.

  “We’ve called this meeting to let you know of a danger we’re now facing. Those with us last February remember our problems with a spirit called the Coachman. His real name is Oscar Rivera.” I paused and searched for recognition on their faces.

  Thunder crashed in the distance, eliciting a few gasps.

  “Not him again. Why can’t you people get rid of him?” Anita Johnson stood. She and her husband had once tried to overthrow the Gregg family to lead Sanctuary themselves. Made sense she’d start the squawking. Her husband, Kenny, stood up next to her.

  “Yeah. Y’all said you got rid of the threat back in August after that monster like to’ve got you.” Kenny crossed hairy arms over his chest and slitted his eyes at me.

  Cecil coughed into his hand and stood. He had to hold onto the back of his chair.

  “Kenny, you’re alive because of this little woman right here. You best sit your ass down and do whatever she says.” Lecture delivered, Cecil sat with a grunt of relief.

  Kenny and Anita stayed where they were.

  Tubby nudged Cecil and lifted his shirt to reveal a semi-automatic pistol. He tipped his head at Kenny and Anita, asking Cecil a silent question. Cecil raised his eyebrows at Kenny.

  Kenny paled and sat. Almost as an afterthought, he grabbed his wife’s arm and forced her to do the same. The two began a whispered argument.

  “How do you know Oscar is back?” Gus Martinez stood from the table he’d been sharing with his husband Noah Killebrew.

  I reached into the cardboard box and held up the plastic box the runes had been inside.

  “Oscar sent this to me.” I left out the part where he called me a dumb bitch. It sort of fit, much as I hated to admit it. “The magic Oscar Rivera uses to access the living plane was sealed in this box and dumped in a deep, deep hole. Somehow he managed to get hold of it. He sent the box with a message that he’s coming for me.”

  Noah stood next to Gus. “Where’s Tanner? What does he think about this?”

  The three men had become quick friends. They attended card games together. Of course Noah and Gus would want to know where Tanner was.

  “He’s gone back to California.” I stared out at the sea of curious eyes, cheeks heating.

  “What’s going to happen to us?” A dime store psychic who called himself The Mystical Johann called from the back of the commons area.

  “Nothing good,” Anita Johnson shouted.

  “Well, I’m leaving. I joined up with you people for safety. This ain’t it.” The Mystical Johann flounced out of the pavilion.

  I had expected this response. It made me miss Tanner even more. He would have soothed feelings and helped plan. I was too rattled to do anything but run for cover.

  “Leaving might be the best option,” I yelled over the din, which died down as if a switch had been flipped. When I spoke again, my voice echoed off the shelter’s concrete floors. “I suspect we’re about to be fighting for our lives.” I didn’t add that I couldn’t protect them all. My titanic pride wouldn’t let me.

  “Now wait a minute.” Cecil half stood, but the room had already begun to rumble with chairs being pushed back and people talking among themselves. They streamed from the little room.

  Cecil gripped my arm. He tugged at me until I faced him. He focused his dark eyes on mine, the old leader demanding the new hire perform, and perform well.

  “Never dismiss your army,” he hissed.

  “They’re not an army. They’re people who don’t have any stake in this.” I met his gaze, unflinching.

  He blinked twice, and I knew I’d won. Boy, I hoped I wasn’t wrong telling these people to hit the road. I took off walking. Cecil gave a disgusted grunt and followed.

  Bruise colored storm clouds covered most of the sky. The RV park’s lights flickered on and buzzed in the quiet. Cecil and I watched as more than a few Sanctuary members raced around their campers, unhooking, getting ready to cut and run. I lit a cigarette and offered Cecil one. His wife, Shelly, no longer allowed him to smoke, but this was dire. Cecil took the cigarette, lit it, and inhaled deeply. He spoke without looking at me.


  “Baby, I know Tanner left you without any warning, but you’ve got to get it together. Come on now. What’s next?” He prodded me in the ribs with one bony finger.

  I shrugged.

  “Don’t give me that shit.” His voice roughened. “Think.”

  “What’s there to think about?” I spun to face him, eyes burning. “I don’t know how Oscar’s going to attack, so there’s no way…”

  “I know one thing that would help a lot.” He stared into my eyes.

  The mantle. Of course. Just the thought of my magical core and the scar tissue spell surrounding it made my shoulders ache with unreleased tension. If I could absorb it, I’d give Oscar a fight he wouldn’t forget soon. But it wasn’t just a finger snap away.

  “You’re right, Papaw. I have to absorb the rest of the mantle. But Queenie said the Traveler won’t see me yet.”

  “Why?”

  “She did a Tarot reading. The cards I got were…” I didn’t even want to speak the names of the cards she drew. Somehow that made them seem more real.

  Cecil watched my inner battle, face creased with concern. “Go on and tell me. Can't offer you advice otherwise.”

  I collected myself and did what he said, speaking the words through tight lips. "The Tower. Ten of Swords. Death.”

  Cecil’s olive skin paled to sick yellow, and his mouth slackened. But then he seemed to catch himself. He stood up straight and arranged his face into one of firm, fatherly concern.

  “It’s not the news you were hoping for. But you’re not beat yet. What are you going to do right now?” Cecil watched a bolt of lightning streak across the sky. The flash of harsh light made him appear nothing but a skeleton. The illusion passed, and I forced my mind into brainstorming mode.

  “Oscar sent one of his runes. I might be able use the wheel of life to figure out what he’s up to.” This was the best I had.

  No wonder Cecil was annoyed with me. I should have been planning all this time instead of falling in love and playing house with Tanner.

  “How will you do that?” Cecil crossed his thin arms over his chest.

  “There’s latent magic in that rune. It was glowing earlier. If I can latch onto it, I might be able to channel it. See whatever the rune has seen.” The plan began to take shape. I’d have to ask Priscilla Herrera how to do what I wanted, but she’d help. She lived for stuff like this.

  “Not bad. Quick thinking.” Cecil gripped my shoulder. “Despite my sharp words, I’m proud of you.”

  Thunder shook the sky. Underneath the thunder came another sound. Men yelling, hoofbeats pounding, and barking dogs. That sound again. What was it?

  I turned to Cecil. “Do you hear that at all?”

  He shook his head, puzzlement wrinkling his features.

  Thunder rumbled again. I lurched toward Cecil and put my arm around him, pouring my power into his worn out body. He stiffened with it. The thunder slammed again. Then came those calls. The hoofbeats. The dogs howling. Underneath the roar of engines at high throttle.

  Cecil turned to me, eyes wide. “It’s too late. Oscar is coming right now. And he’s got an army with him.”

  I froze, not sure what to make of Cecil’s reaction.

  “Go,” he yelled. “Tell everybody to get ready.”

  I left my great-uncle, my last elder and source of comfort, standing alone in front of the roiling sky and ran for the nearest camper, which happened to belong to my cousin Finn and his wife, Dillon.

  I banged on the door. Zora, their oldest child, opened it. “Hannah’s here. She gonna put makeup on me.”

  “Good,” I scooped her up, and set her on my hip.

  “I’m a big girl now,” she yelled in my ear.

  I ignored her and barged inside. Dillon stood over the stove stirring something that looked like stew. Finn sat at the table having a very serious discussion with Hannah.

  He spoke without glancing away from Hannah’s face. “Zora, I told you to help your mother.”

  “Finlay.” I said his full name in my leader’s voice.

  He jerked and glanced at me.

  I stood over the table, feeling a little foolish issuing orders while I held a squirming little girl. “Papaw and I heard something in the storm. Shouting, voices. Dogs barking. And engines running. Papaw said Oscar’s coming and to warn everybody.” I paused, trying to figure out how to explain the last part. “Finn, he was scared.”

  Finn shoved his way out of the booth and headed out the door. “What’s the plan?”

  “I don’t know.” I followed him to Brad and Jadine’s nice new fifth wheel.

  He faced me, dark eyes flashing with fear and anger. He let out a long breath. “All right. We’ll figure it out as we go.”

  Finn spun away from me and ran the last few steps to Brad and Jadine’s. Brad answered the door smiling before Finn could knock. He must have been watching us through the window. His eagerness to fit in kept him in a high state of watchfulness. He took one look at Finn’s and my faces, and the smile dropped off his face.

  “What is it?” He spoke to me more than Finn, but Finn answered.

  “Oscar’s coming. We’ve got to fight.” My handsome cousin wiped the greasy sweat off his face.

  “What do I do?” Brad glanced between Finn and me, face tightening.

  "See Papaw standing out there?” Finn pointed to where Cecil still stood watching the storm come. “Go stand with him. Now. And leave your wife here.”

  Jadine peeked out from behind Finn. “You don’t order me, Finn Gregg. I’ll go with my husband.”

  Finn growled and marched away. I followed him, trying to hoist Zora to a more comfortable position on my hip.

  “Let me walk,” she yelled in my ear.

  I set her on the ground, grabbed her chubby hand, and pulled her along.

  “The dead people are coming,” She chanted, running along beside me.

  I stopped, and she plowed into me. I caught her before she fell.

  “What did you say?” I stared into her dark eyes, much as Cecil had done to me not so very long ago.

  “The dead men are coming. That mean man who took me from Mommy and Daddy.” Her voice wavered.

  That was true enough. Oscar was coming. But who were the dead men? Cecil had mentioned an army.

  I knelt in front of her and tried to smile. “What do you see?”

  Her mouth worked as her young mind tried to interpret the pictures in her mind. I struggled to find words she’d understand while Finn beat on doors and shouted at people to get ready, the monsters were coming.

  Dillon appeared next to me. “I’ll take her so you and Finn can do what you need to do.”

  Zora, who’d had her face screwed up as she thought hard, screamed, “I’m helping Peri Jean figure out what do to about the dead men.”

  “She says there’s dead men coming. Not just Oscar,” I told Dillon what I’d heard—the dogs barking, the horse hooves pounding. The engines. We were facing more than a singular threat.

  Dillon turned so pale her freckles stood out like black dots. She marched over, grabbed Zora, and picked her up. “Come with me, little girl.”

  “I’m a big girl,” Zora screamed. A fat tear slipped from the corner of one eye and rolled down her cheek. Her gaze found me. “And I’m helping.”

  “You can help your mother more than you can help me.” I tried to put my hands on her cheeks.

  She slapped my hands away. “You’re just trying to get rid of me because I’m too little.”

  Dillon spoke to her older child. “Zander’s with Hannah. Don’t you want to see him?”

  Zora hollered louder.

  Dillon gave her head a frustrated shake. “If all hell’s fixing to break loose, I want to be near my other kid.”

  Zora still sobbed as though her heart was about to break.

  “Why don’t we all go?” I put on a phony smile.

  The little girl made a big show of holding back her tears. She rode on her mother’s hip l
ike a queen suffering the greatest of indignities.

  We walked toward Cecil and Shelly’s motorhome. The stuff Zora had said about the dead men coming rolled over and over in my head. There should have been something there that I could use. But this was all happening too fast.

  Shelly burst out of her motorhome. “What is this Finn’s saying? Oscar is coming now? Can’t he just stay in his grave?”

  That was when I knew. I was a spirit medium and witch. I had limited powers of necromancy. I should be able to control Oscar to an extent. A crazy plan strung itself together.

  “If I can call a circle big enough to cover us all, Oscar might not be able to get through.” Fear of failure raced through my bloodstream, making my skin tingle.

  Both Shelly and Dillon stared at me, not quite getting it yet.

  But Zora yelled, “Yeah. We keep the dead men out with witch magic.”

  Thunder boomed. Behind it came the shouts and the dogs barking. They were closer than ever.

  “I’m going into my camper to get supplies. Tell Brad I need him,” I said to nobody in particular.

  “I’ll get him.” Shelly marched off to find her son-in-law.

  Dillon, Zora, and I collected Zander and Hannah and went to my RV. We found Tubby sitting at the table eating chocolate sandwich cookies. While we’d all been running around panicking, he’d sat here and finished most of the package. I grabbed my stang and began trying to relax enough to call my magic. I wanted Tanner, needed his calm comfort and his fierce willingness to fight if that’s what it took.

  Brad pounded on the door and walked in to my camper. “We’re making a circle?”

  I held up my stang. “I need consecrated dirt. You have anything like that?”

  Without answering, Brad ran out.

  I spoke to Dillon. “Get everybody in as small of a place as possible. I’ve never tried to circle this many people.” I couldn’t admit out loud that I wasn’t sure I had the power. “All the holders of the raven tattoo will help me call the circle.”

  Dillon hurried out, Zora running behind her. Hannah still held Zander. He had both hands on her cheeks and patted them, chanting his favorite words. “Pretty girl, pretty girl, pretty girl.” She hoisted the little boy higher on her hip and followed Dillon out of my home.