Wicked Justice by Rod Kackley

Author:Rod Kackley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: supernatural, horror, demonic possession, demons, serial killer, lesbian, murder, young adult, paranormal horror, demon revenge, darkness unleashed, dark fantasy, darkness awakened, demon sex, lesbian love, paranormal mystery books, paranormal mystery cozy, paranormal mystery and suspense, paranormal mystery series, paranormal ghosts spirits demons, horror novels
Publisher: Rod Kackley
Published: 2015-12-24T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty-one

If it had been any other day, if she were leaving the apartment building for any other reason, Heather would have known exactly what she wanted to do, even if that was walking aimlessly through the retro-fitted, gentrified neighborhood that she and Sam had made their own.

Those early months together had been so good for Heather, or, at least, it had seemed that way then. But now it was nothing more than a distant memory. Beautiful for then, but now, it just isn’t good enough, Heather thought to herself.

There was definitely a fleeting moment, just a moment, of confidence in her determination to figure out last night’s dream. It wasn’t just the dream. She could have handled that. But the dream was just the last domino that fell, pushing Heather in a new direction. But what that new direction was, was a mystery to her.

So Heather did what anyone who can't figure out which way to turn would do. She walked to one of the city’s little parks that dotted the urban landscape, sat on a bench and waited.

Morning turned to afternoon, afternoon to evening. Heather sat comfortably in the middle of what was a normal day for everyone else in the neighborhood. Children walking to school and office workers going to their desks, all congregated at the bus stop that had become Heather's headquarters of indecision.

The children chattered with each other, the youngest louder than the oldest. The office workers either nervously tapped their feet waiting for transit to take the masses to their next stop in life or consumed as much caffeine as possible in sips of coffee that burned all the way down.

The buses came with a screech of air brakes and diesel fumes and left the same way.

Soon another crowd replaced the first, and then a second and a third.

A middle-aged man, wearing a black t-shirt, jeans and a Glock 9 in a holster on his right hip leaned casually against an old black car watching it all happen.

He watched Heather while she sat and watched. But she didn’t actually watch. Others walking by with more of a purpose in the day that she felt — if they had looked closely enough — would have thought Heather was so interested in the workings of the neighborhood she couldn’t keep her eyeballs still in their sockets.

Her blue eyes flitted to the right, to the left, up and down, as her head turned in every direction possible except backwards. The fingers of her right hand tapped against each other and then drummed on her thighs while her eyeballs banged against their lids.

A crowd had formed around her. It was one of those watching a traffic accident moments for most of them. The rhythm of her finger and thumb quickly dancing together and then against Heather’s thigh was hypnotic. Stunned disbelief would have been a good phrase to describe the crowd’s emotion. Some were so transfixed they missed the crosstown bus that stopped, waited and then drove off.

No one missed the next bus.

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