Pieces of Ivy by Dean Covin

Author:Dean Covin [Covin, Dean]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Carson Cove Publishing
Published: 2014-05-06T22:00:00+00:00

Thirty-two

The white daylight splashed Vicki’s face, momentarily blinding her into a short stumble as she hurried out the door. The searing sun stood directly above them, cutting through the skinny crooked bones of the branches above. The strong, smoky smell that had first greeted them on those open grounds was absent even as they crossed through the low-hanging wisps tracking around the property. The heavy snaps of her footfalls followed her into the thickness of the trees and away from her tormentor. While Hank glanced at the wickedly striking woman looking after them from her shadowed threshold, Vicki refused to.

“Did you see how she was studying me?” She wanted to say, did you feel the way she was studying me, but knew that was insanity talking. “And what the hell was with the tasting?” She didn’t want to admit the feeling she had beneath the woman’s gaze, but she was too shaken now to hold it in.

“Maybe she was trying to figure out what flavor of amphibian to turn you into.”

“Not funny! At least twice I fell under her gaze or her spell or whatever. I’m not kidding, Hank. It was real—I felt it. What the fuck was that?” She shoved away any branch that dared block her hurried exit toward that unbearable bridge.

Hank looked on her aggravated rambling with concern but said nothing. He found the vexing woman’s insane assertions annoying, but he wasn’t about to let her crazed ruminations sap his logic—his partner appeared less able to do the same. The only struggle he had was the powerful carnal drive to have sex with that woman. The pull was equal parts consuming and frightening. Trepidation filled his chest as Vicki approached the bridge he didn’t want to cross.

In her anger, Vicki couldn’t help but temper her advance on the bridge once it came into view. The woman had assured them that it had the mysterious ability to amplify the emotion the agents carried toward it, but, even as Vicki consciously fought for positive thoughts, her flesh began to ice. Her tone reflected her uncontrollable frustration. “It was as if she looked right into me somehow, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I felt stripped down … violated.”

“Now you’re just trying to spook yourself,” he said as she took her first step.

Again, as improbable as it was, she could draw no air as she crossed the bridge. She convinced herself that it was her unjustified fright that had squeezed her lungs into submission as she crossed, but it truly felt as if the air was dead.

Her first dry breath was dusty yet devoid of taste but welcome nonetheless. Each following breath carried the same unnerving sense of foreboding emanating from the blackened trees surrounding them. Gone was any stirring of the air, even as she walked—as if the air moved with her, held her, confined her.

She felt Hank quicken his pace to reach her, like a nervous child scooting up to Mommy. She welcomed his proximity as the unseen eyes of the shadows watched her again.

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