Soul Catcher by Leigh Bridger

Author:Leigh Bridger [Bridger, Leigh]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Horror & Ghost Stories
ISBN: 9780982175682
Publisher: Bell Bridge Books
Published: 2010-05-11T05:00:00+00:00

10

The Cherokee Indians of North Carolina are stuck on a hundred square miles of isolated mountains and wild forest at the entrance of the national forest, whose unbroken arms close like a defensive hug around the tribe's to-cringe-at tourist district full of cheap, insulting knickknack crap, low-rent diners and shabby motels.

On the other hand, the boons and angels have never deserted the tribe. There's also a high-tech museum, a cultural center, and other proud and authentic testaments to the tribe. Plus a good hospital, social programs, and schools. Every summer, at an outdoor amphitheater, the tribe stages an epic, fuck-the-white-man historical play that guilty white people pay to watch.

Still, it's a weird world. Picture upwards of ten thousand Cherokees tucked away on narrow back roads and ridges and deep hollows, living in everything from house trailers to suburban ranches, spending their tribal annuity checks and suiting up every day to work for the area's two biggest employers: the tribal government or the tribe's small casino.

Welcome to the Native American reality, where you're probably either a civil servant or a blackjack dealer. I had no clue where to look for this Crow Walker, unless he played the slots. I had no access to Google, a cell phone, or any other way to look him up.

I gazed at the casino's entrance morosely. My rain-soaked clothes had dried stiff and coarse. Fear crawled through me like a trickle of acid.

Ian stood peacefully beside me, looking up at the casino with his mouth open. "What the feck kind of place is this?" he asked. "I've never seen so many old folks heading in the same direction."

I chuckled hoarsely. The casino front bore lots of rustic stonework, faux native atmosphere, bright lights even in daylight, and yellow pansies in the landscaping. "It's the tribe's gaming hall," I explained. People come from all over this part of the country to gamble here."

Ian shook his head. "I've n'er said anything against cards and dice, nor on betting on a fight or a race, but this is . . . God's balls, look there, Mary-Livia. Another pack of sweet old granmam's walkin' into a gambling hall, proud as you please."

"They travel in herds." I pointed as a big bus rumbled past us.

He sighed. "Is this a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Both. It's making a fortune for the tribe. They put it to good use. They can earn a living they couldn't earn before."

"Even in our time, Mary-Livia, you told me you could hear the banshee singing for your mam's people."

"Oh, did she?" a Santa Claus-sized voice boomed. "Did you hear me coming, soul catcher?"

We jumped.

The question was followed by a hearty laugh. Ian pushed me behind him as a massive shape began to gather in front of the casino's main doors. The creature lumbered toward us. The ground shook with each of his steps. I heard a loud jingling sound, like thousands of coins shimmying. The viscous shape was several stories tall.

"I can see naught but a lot of twinkles," Ian warned.

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