Julia
It’s over.
There’s no room for doubt as I drive through the worst of the storm. I feel violated, all the way down to my soul. My face is red and streaked with tears, and my lungs constrict with every breath I take, as though my chest is trapped in an immovable vice.
Jake’s actions are unforgivable.
And it had been Jake, not Zeke. I’m absolutely sure of that. Aside from the fact that Zeke would never treat me so horribly, we’d simply spent so much time together during Jake’s absence that the ghost was all but drained of energy by the time my husband returned home.
But there was something else wriggling through the back of my mind, insidious and full of venom.
How had Jake even known about Zeke in the first place?
He didn’t look at all surprised when I spoke the spirit’s name aloud. In fact, he played along with it, lulling me into a false sense of security until the point of no return.
Only then did Jake reveal himself.
Somebody must have told him about Zeke. Somebody must have put him up to such a terrible charade.
“Amos.” I gasp out loud as the pieces of the puzzle click into place.
My mind drifts back to that horrible moment when my husband’s eyes flashed down at me with so much malice. His gaze was impossibly dark, almost black, in the moonlight, ripe with the demon’s influence.
Horror blossoms in the pit of my stomach. How long has Jake been colluding with Amos? Does he even know that it’s a demon?
“What have you done, Jake?” I choke out.
Part of me wants to turn back. Maybe I can help him. Even after everything he’s done, he doesn’t deserve to be left at Amos’s machinations. Zeke had told me about some of the things the demon has done over the years. It shows no mercy and doesn’t stop until its prey is dead. No matter how monstrous Jake has acted, it pains me to just leave him there.
But I can’t go back.
I can’t.
That certainty offers me little comfort as I navigate the rain-washed streets of Hahnville. Fat droplets splatter against the windshield, rendering visibility to nearly nothing. A quick glance at the illuminated clock on the dashboard shows that I’ve been driving in circles for over an hour. I don’t even have a destination in mind.
After all, It’s not like I have anywhere to go.
Fresh tears streak down my cheeks. I’ll be out of gas soon, which means I’ll have to stop eventually. There must be a motel or something where I can book a room. But then I realize that I fled the house without my purse, leaving me without a wallet, cards, or cash.
I want to scream. I want to pound my fists against the steering wheel, even though it will accomplish nothing.
I hate Jake. I hate Amos. Helen was right when she’d told me how terrible the demon was.
Helen.
Didn’t my neighbor say that I could always ask her for help? As much as I hate to test her generosity, I don’t really have much of a choice.
I turn the car around and head back toward the swamp.
A tentative wave of hope threads through my veins as I find the start of Helen’s driveway about a mile down the road. A cheerful yellow mailbox with WILSON painted on the side in tall blocky letters marks the opening in the trees.
Panic sets in for a moment as the cypress branches close in over the car. It’s so similar to our driveway that I can’t help but feel that I’ve somehow taken a wrong turn, and that, at any second, I’ll pull up into the open gravel expanse in front of the house.
But then the trees part, revealing Helen’s home in all its comforting glory.
All the windows are dark, though the light on the porch is on. Helen’s car is parked in the dirt space beside the house, alongside a well-loved red pickup truck.
I hesitate as I pull up behind the vehicles. It’s so late, and the older couple is probably asleep. I don’t want to bother them at this hour, but I have no resources and nowhere else to go.
Helen ends up making the choice for me. She must have heard my car because a light flashes on in one of the upstairs windows. By the time I’m out of the car and have sprinted through the rain to seek shelter beneath their covered porch, the door swings open.
“Julia?” the woman calls out. “Is that you?”
I nod as I step into the dim glow of the porch light. “I’m so sorry Helen, I just… I…” My voice trails off into a silent sob.
“Oh, honey, what’s happened?” Helen gasps, wrapping her arm around me. She guides me toward the door and into the comforting safety of her home.
“Amos,” I manage to choke out. “Jake…”
Even without much to go on, my neighbor seems to understand that something bad has happened. “You’re soaked, sweetie. Let’s get you into some dry clothes and have a nice warm drink, okay?”
It’s all I can do to nod. Now that I’m somewhere safe, the reality of the situation comes crashing down on me all at once, bringing with it a wave of exhaustion so strong that I have to channel every ounce of my energy into following Julia upstairs.
She offers me a pair of her sweatpants and a T-shirt, which I accept gratefully, before leading me to the guest room.
“You take your time,” she says kindly. “Just leave your wet clothes in the hamper in the bathroom. I’ll take care of those for you. When you’re ready, I’ll have tea for us in the living room.”
As promised, she ducks out to give me some privacy to change, and I’m once again left alone with my thoughts. Numbly, I strip off my soaked clothes, thankful for the small mercy that my panties are dry. I toss my gown into the hamper and then pull on the borrowed clothes.
Before I head downstairs, I do my best to freshen up in the bathroom. My hair is an absolute mess. I comb my hands fruitlessly through the tangled tresses before giving up entirely and use a hair tie I find on the sink to secure it into a loose ponytail. Once I’ve tamed my hair, I splash warm water on my face in hopes that it might take away from the puffy redness that rims my eyes.
It’s as presentable as I’m going to get.
I pad out of the room in bare feet, trekking through the hallway and down the stairs toward the living room. Helen is already there, waiting for me on the couch. There are two steaming mugs on the coffee table, and she pushes one over to me as I sit down beside her.
“Thank you,” I say as I gratefully accept the offered cup. The heat of the liquid seeps into my fingers and radiates through my palms as I clasp it in both hands.
“You’re very welcome,” Helen nods. “I put a dash of whiskey in yours. It looks like you could use it.”
I offer her a watery smile. “I could use the whole bottle, honestly,” I confess. “Helen, I’m so sorry to just show up like this. I know I must have woken you and…”
The older woman holds up a hand, cutting me off. “I told you that my door would always be open to you, and I meant it,” she assures me. “I’m just glad you were able to get here instead of the alternative. Now tell me, what happened?”
I hesitate for a moment. Do I tell Helen that I’ve been growing more and more intimate with the ghost of one of Amos’s victims? It’s not that I’m worried she won’t believe it. No, I’m more concerned that she’ll judge me and think I’m terrible.
But I owe Helen, who’s pulled herself out of bed to help me, the full and unadulterated truth.
“Jake is under Amos’s influence,” I finally reveal. “I’m not sure if Amos made him do it, or if Jake just did it on his own.” My voice sounds so small in the room, so full of shame. “And I think, maybe… maybe I deserve what he did to me.” I squeeze my eyes shut as tears track down my cheeks. I don’t want to see Helen’s reaction as I add, “Because I’ve been cheating on Jake with a ghost.”
The following few seconds tick past in silence. I’m absolutely sure that Helen must think I’m a horrid person and is simply puzzling out some polite way to get me to leave.
I’m utterly shocked when I feel her arms wrap around me to pull me in for a warm, motherly hug.
“Oh, honey, you poor thing,” she murmurs. “Whatever he did to you, you don’t deserve it. I’m not sure what he expected you to do when he was off running around on you with half the women in New Orleans.”
“So you don’t think I’m terrible?”
“Of course not,” she assures me. “I think you’re a woman in a very tough situation, and you deserve to hold on to love when you can find it.”
Her kind words usher in another bout of heavy sobs. It takes a while for me to calm down to the point where I can pull away and start to sip my tea. The smoky taste of the alcohol lingers in my mouth with each sip and spreads some much-needed warmth throughout my body.
“Do you truly believe that Amos has gotten to Jake?” Helen asks once she deems that I’m in a slightly better state of mind to answer questions.
“I’m sure of it,” I tell her. “He was different, and he knew about Zeke. Only Amos could’ve told him.”
Helen shakes her head. “This is bad. Very bad.”
“What do I do?” My words drip with desperation.
“We perform the ritual,” Helen replies firmly.
“No!” I blanche. “You heard what the Voodoo priestess said! Somebody is going to have to die, and I just… we can’t do that. We can’t!”
“If you won’t use the potion, then we can at least weaken him with the incantation,” Helen suggests. “We lure him into the swamp and do our best to end him.”
“And if it doesn’t work without the potion?” I counter.
Helen shrugs. “Then we’ll probably die anyway.”
It’s not exactly comforting, but she’s right. We have to try.
The older woman takes my hand and gives it a comforting squeeze. “We’ll go tomorrow. I’ll help in any way I can. I promise.”
“Thank you, Helen.” Although I don’t want to put her in any danger, I’m glad that I won’t have to do it alone. A thought occurs to me then, and I add, “What if I go back first? I can talk to Zeke and the other spirits. Maybe they’ll help us too.”
Helen offers me a thoughtful nod and agrees, “That might just be the edge we need.”
Now that we’ve solidified our plans for tomorrow, Helen leads me back upstairs to the guest room. After exchanging good nights, my host retires back to her bedroom, leaving me alone with only my gnarled thoughts for company.
I crawl into the unfamiliar bed and wrap the covers tightly around myself. I’m so tired, but no matter how hard I try to fall asleep, my brain just won’t let me. Instead, I find myself staring blankly up at the ceiling, thoughts racing through my mind before I can fully process them.
Are we really going to kill Amos tomorrow? And if we do, what then? I’ll divorce Jake, that’s for sure. Maybe then Zeke and I can have a life together.
But all of that hinges on destroying Amos.
And killing a demon won’t be easy.