The Invocation Read online

  It took several passes with the planchette before they got exactly what Mia wanted them to say. Cordy ran to get a pen and paper to write it down.

  Kenna released the planchette. She was feeling dizzy and her head ached. She was getting a crazy vibe from Mia, unlike anything she had ever felt before. It was disorienting just holding the planchette. “Did you get it?”

  Cordy nodded.

  “All right,” Kenna said. “Let’s say it.”

  Ben removed his hands from the planchette. “Are you sure this is a good idea? We don’t even know what saying these words will do. There’s something really weird going on with Mia today.”

  "Yeah, she seems freaky,” Carlos said. “I don't like it."

  Cordy glared at him. “Don’t you trust Mia?”

  “I never said I didn’t,” Ben replied. “It’s just that maybe we should wait and try to figure things out, you know.”

  Kenna stared at the back of the room where she had previously seen Cotter’s silhouette and those creepy red eyes. She hesitated for a moment. She remembered Jake telling her that some things were better left alone. Maybe he was right and dealing with the spirit world could only bring trouble. On the other hand, this had to be about Cotter terrorizing Mia. They had to help her. “Let’s do it, Ben.”

  She and Cordy both stared at him. Meanwhile, Carlos chewed on his fingernails.

  Ben raised his hands. “Okay.”

  Cordy sat to their side, practically hovering over the board. Her face was tight, her eyes focused on the planchette. Carlos knelt directly behind Kenna, his hands folded underneath his chin, almost as if he was in prayer. Kenna and Ben grabbed the planchette and circled it around the board, repeating, “By the power of wind and fire, I give you passage. Eachlais.”

  She wasn’t sure if they were pronouncing that last word right since she had never heard it before. It probably wasn’t even English.

  It felt like the calm before a big storm. Something was about to happen, something big. For the first time, she felt some of Ben’s skepticism, but she trusted Mia. She was their friend.

  A strong wind blew across the basement. Cordy’s long hair flopped in the wind.

  “What’s going on?” Carlos asked.

  Holding onto the planchette, Kenna and Ben continued to repeat, “By the power of wind and fire, I give you passage. Eachlais.” She glanced into Ben's troubled eyes. His face seemed worn. He looked older, like a miniature version of what he would look like forty years from now.

  A strong wind continued to gust through the basement. Kenna sniffed the air. It smelled like something was burning. The air shimmered around them. It was as if the individual air molecules had become big and were moving around, colliding with each other.

  Ben began to wheeze. His asthma acted up in times of stress. She wanted to stop, but it was too late. She felt a compulsion to see this thing through to the end. They continued repeating the words.

  “What’s going on?” Carlos shouted in the thick air. His voice sounded warbled. “Something’s on fire.”

  Cordy tugged at Kenna’s arm. “What’s happening?”

  Kenna did not reply. Instead, she kept repeating the words Mia had told them, like she was in a trance. She couldn’t stop even if she wanted to.

  A massive spike of electricity surged through her, knocking her backward. For a moment, her head felt as if it was going to explode. Intense, searing pain ripped through her body, followed by pressure, as if someone was trying to pull apart her head. Carlos cushioned her fall as she landed on him.

  Ben let go of the planchette and leaped across the Ouija board. He grabbed Kenna's hand. His eyes looked frantic. “Are you okay?”

  Kenna blinked rapidly. Whatever she had felt earlier had passed. She no longer felt that heavy pressure in her head. She still felt woozy, but it was passing by the moment. “I think so.”

  Just then, she felt a shove from behind.

  “Hey, get the fuck off me,” Carlos said.

  Kenna turned her head, not believing what she had just heard. Carlos had never spoken to her like that before.

  Ben’s face tightened. “Hey, what’s the matter with you?”

  Carlos shoved Kenna aside and got to his feet. “Nothing. Just get off my case, asshole.”

  Kenna stared at Carlos in disbelief.

  “Why did you push her?” Ben asked.

  Cordy grabbed Kenna’s hand. “Are you okay? It was like someone zapped you or something.”

  Kenna shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

  Carlos snickered. “Ya think, girlie? I can give you something you never felt before.”

  Ben’s face turned red. He grabbed Carlos by the shirt. “Why did you say that to her? That’s not cool. You have to say you're sorry right now.”

  “Get off my grill,” Carlos said. “I ain’t sayin’ shit to the little bitch.”

  Kenna put her hands on her hips. “Why are you acting like this?”

  Carlos glared at her. "Because I can. Now step aside, you whiny little bitch."

  Ben's hands shook as he stood in front of Carlos. "You better say you're sorry, right now."

  Instead of apologizing, Carlos sucker-punched Ben in the face, knocking him to the ground. Ben clutched his jaw.

  Kenna's mouth opened wide. "Why did you do that?" She stammered. "Get out of my house, right now."

  "I was already leavin'. You kids are cramping my style. Later. Much later." Without turning back, Carlos went up the stairs, leaving Kenna dumbfounded.

  Chapter XVI

  Jake had a jump in his step after getting off the phone with June. She had readily agreed to come over, even offering to stop by the grocery store to pick up ingredients for their meal.

  He was glad Cordy had suggested calling her. The girl might only be nine, but she had a good head on her shoulders, at least when it came to relationships.

  He whistled as he folded his laundry. He did not know what he did to deserve June, but he wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize their relationship. For the first time, he had found someone special. She had looks, charm, kindness, and self-confidence. After his stint in jail, he figured no one worth a damn would want to have anything to do with him.

  After he was done with his laundry, he tidied up the house. He wanted everything to be just right. She had told him she would be right over, so he had little time to waste.

  The doorbell rang. He frowned and looked at the clock. It was too soon for June to have gone to the store and arrive at his house. When he opened the front door, he felt sick to his stomach.

  Without an invitation, Adam Fallon stepped inside the house. “Jake, it’s so good to see you.”

  Jake took a step back. “What do you want?”

  Adam smiled. “You’re my best friend. I wanted to see how things were going.”

  “What do you want?”

  Adam looked around. “All right. Here’s the deal. I was doing some running for this guy. I was supposed to deliver his stash, but my buyer stiffed me. He expects the smack to be gone, so I can’t exactly have it on me. I have another guy who can take it off my hands, but not for a few days. So, I just need you to hold onto…”

  Jake gripped his wrist. “You gotta be kidding me. You brought heroin into my house.”

  Adam grimaced. "Just chill, bro. I need you to hold it for a few days. Nobody's going to find it here."

  Jake took deep breaths to control his rage. "I don't know what made you think I would help you, but there's no way in hell I'm going to hold heroin for you. Get this shit of my house now."

  Adam looked down. “Jake, you don't know the kind of heat I'm facing. I need your help. Come on. Hook me up just this one time. I promise I won't ask for any more favors. I can't keep it right now and I don't trust anyone else with it.”

  Carlos approached them. Jake wouldn't have noticed him because of his heated conversation with Adam, except that he was walking with this weird strut. Carlos didn’t h
ave a strut when he walked. The only noticeable thing about his normal walk was that his shoulders dropped. Now he had this overconfident, overbearing manner that suggested the world owed him something. He bumped into Adam, almost knocking him over, before walking out the front door without saying a word.

  Jake followed him to the front door. The kid had a blank expression and looked as if he was lost. The strut was gone.

  At the same time that Carlos was leaving, June was walking out of her car. He had forgotten all about her. He wished he had gotten rid of Adam before she arrived.

  June had a wide smile as she carried a bag of groceries. “Hi, Jake.” She kissed him on the cheek and looked over his shoulder. "Oh, I didn't know you had company. Hey, Adam.” She put down the bag.

  “Actually, Adam was just leaving.”

  Adam's demeanor changed. Earlier on, he had been jumpy. Now he looked like he did not have a care in the world. He put his arm around Jake's shoulder. "What's the rush? I just got here."

  Jake frowned. What the hell had gotten into Adam?

  Adam approached June with a hungry look in his eyes. "It must be my good fortune that you just got here. You're looking mighty fine today." He felt his jacket pocket and looked down as if noticing the heroin for the first time. "If you wanna party, I got some good stuff. Real good stuff. Whadaya say, baby?"

  June took a step back, glaring at him. "I don't think so."

  Jake spun him around. "What’s come over you? Back off."

  Adam raised his hands. "Chill, bro. I didn't realize this was your bitch. That's cool. I don't mind sloppy seconds. Or we can both do her at the same time."

  Blood rushed to Jake's face. He felt like grabbing the son of a bitch by his throat and choking him out. It took all his restraint not to do just that. "You're leaving right now."

  Adam smirked. "Like brother, like sister." He took a long look at Jake, as if sizing him up. Adam knew how good of a fighter he was. Was he crazy? After a few moments, he backed down. "I can see where I'm not wanted." He walked toward the door with a stupid grin on his face.

  Jake followed him. This was not the Adam he knew. The guy was a weasel but never this brazen.

  Adam walked down the steps. He turned and sneered. "I didn't want that filthy whore anyway. Fuck you both."

  Jake clenched his fists, trembling with rage. "You asshole." He rushed after Adam, about to throttle the bastard, but June held him back.

  "He's not worth it," June whispered. "Just let him go."

  Jake shook his head. "I can't let him go after he said that about you."

  "You can and you will."

  Adam gave him a middle finger salute. "That's what I thought, you pussy. You think you’re some tough guy. You ain’t shit, Jakey. Let him come after me. I’ll put you in your fucking grave, boy. Go ahead, fuck with me. Before this is all said and done, I’m going to make you feel a world of hurt. It ain't over between us."

  Jake frowned, watching Adam walk away. What the hell had just happened? He turned and stared at June, who had her lips pursed.

  "I hardly knew Adam in high school, but I had no idea he was such a jerk. Why were you ever friends with him?"

  Jake folded his arms and turned to look at Adam, but he was already gone. "Look, I'm not going to defend him after what he did to me with the robbery, but this…this isn't the Adam I know. He's not brave enough to say that kind of crap, at least not to someone's face. He's the kind of guy who always backed down from a fight and avoided confrontation. I don't get it."

  "So, what did he come here for?" June asked.

  Jake looked down. "He wanted me to hold some heroin for him."

  "He sounds like an asshole to me. I hope you told him to go to hell."

  "I did. But what just went down, I still can't figure it out."

  June waved her hands. "What's there to figure out? He's a jerk who duped you into taking a fall for him. Now, he's trying to take advantage of you again."

  "I suppose." Jake took a deep breath. Something about his confrontation with Adam left him disturbed. He had known Adam his whole life and had never seen him act like that. It was as if his entire personality had just undergone a Civil War and the unrepentant bastard part won out.

  June rubbed his shoulders. "Relax. You're all tense."

  He turned, and June kissed him. She put her arms around his waist. "Forget about him. So, I take it you're culinary challenged and need help."

  Jake smiled. "You can say that."

  "Can you at least chop vegetables?"

  Jake nodded. "No problem there."

  "Good. Let's get to work."

  Chapter XVII

  Cotter walked down the street and smelled the fresh air, never having felt more alive. He had always taken life for granted. Now, he appreciated every moment on this God-forsaken world.

  He was glad to be away from those brats and that punk kid, Jake. Kid fashioned himself sort of tough guy. He didn’t know what tough was. Jake had never been knifed in the back or jumped by a rival gang. He would never survive the streets. He was just a wet behind the ears poser.

  The girlfriend, on the other hand, was a fine piece of ass. Obviously, she had to be misguided being with that loser, but he could show her a good time. Good girls like that always enjoyed walking on the wild side.

  He wasn’t done with Jake. Not by a long shot. The kid would get his, but until then, he had to take care of some business. There were debts to be paid and good times to be had. The best thing was that he could do whatever the hell he wanted and not face any consequences. This was the deal of the century, thank you very much. It was as if someone had written him a blank check.

  Of course, he had limitations. For instance, he couldn’t go wherever he felt like. He would kill to get away from this dump and head to Vegas or NYC, maybe South Beach. His limitation was that he had to be near his lifeline, little Kenna, at all times. Since she was likely to stay in the area, he was also stuck here. No matter, he would make the most of it.

  He rubbed his hands together. Where should he start? He was going to paint the town, get hammered, shack up with a sleazy woman, and get some much-needed revenge. People had wronged him in the past, and he was going to pay them back.

  To get started he needed some green in his jeans and a nice ride. He checked his pockets and smiled at the bill fold. He peeled back twenties. Just under four hundred bucks. Not a bad start. Judging by the smack in the bag in his inside jacket pocket, the kid was dealing.

  Now to get some wheels. He had the key of some unknown car, but rather than try to find it, he was going to help himself to someone else’s ride. For someone of his many talents, this would be no problem. He had lifted more cars than he could remember back in the day. Rather than mess with a new car with unfamiliar technology, he looked for something tried and true. He found a Mustang, circa 2007. That would work just fine.

  The sap who owned the car had conveniently left the door unlocked, so he lifted it in less than a minute. He put the car in gear and flew down the street, hollering like a madman. This was like Christmas Eve. Who was he kidding? Christmas Eve had always sucked. The old man would get a load on, turning into a stupid drunk, digging in on his mom before turning to him and his sister. His old man was probably still alive, rotting in a nursing home. Too bad he was far away. He’d like to play the bastard a visit and jab a knife into his ribs.

  He turned on the radio and cranked it up when he found a rock station playing Guns-N-Roses.

  He stopped at a Wawa to pick up junk food and a massive soda. He needed fuel to get started. His next stop was a hunting and fishing supply store where he bought a buck knife. He didn't have the time to buy a piece just yet. This would suffice for now.

  He drove down Ridge Pike. Payback was a bitch; that’s what they always said. Well, they were right. He was getting payback tonight. Snitches deserved to get their balls cut off. He didn’t know if he would get that exotic, but he would do his best.

  He parked his car outside of Br
other John’s. The bar was bustling. That would work in his favor. He walked to the front door, pulled out the kid’s wallet and looked at the driver’s license. It said he was twenty-five. Looking at the picture, he doubted it, but the driver’s license looked authentic enough. This place wasn’t too picky about its clientele. The bar staged illegal poker games and sports betting. An underage drinker with questionable identification would be no big thing.

  He flashed his driver’s license to the goon at the entrance. The goon nodded and let him through. He knew the man from Graterford where they had done time together, although the goon wouldn’t recognize him now.

  He worked his way to the bar and ordered a beer and a shot of tequila. He chugged the beer and downed the shot. Now he was ready for action.

  He worked his way back, pretending to go to the bathroom before taking a left and walking through an unmarked door. He entered a room that was staging a poker game. A disinterested broad who’d had a boob job sat at the desk.

  “When’s the next card game starting?” he asked.

  She barely looked up at him. “About a half hour.”

  “Good deal. I think I’ll get a drink before then.”

  The broad went back to doing her nails. “Suit yourself.”

  He made sure she wasn’t looking when he slipped through the opposite door of the one that led to the bar. He slunk through a corridor until he ran into some no-neck bastard, who looked as if he ate glass for breakfast.

  “No one allowed back here,” No-Neck said.

  "Oh, sorry about that." He made as if to turn around, but instead charged No-Neck, knocking him off his feet. He head-butted No-Neck on the bridge of the nose, causing blood to flow freely from it. He then punched his bigger foe in the face, dropping him to one knee. He used the back of his head like a ping pong ball, smashing it against the floor until he lost consciousness.

  Wearing a wide grin, he got up and dusted himself off. He dragged No-Neck to a nearby broom closet and shoved him inside.

  Next stop was Harry Black's back office. The little worm had done him wrong in a past life. Black had been tripped up by the cops on a wiretap and immediately squealed. They didn't even have to squeeze him to get him to talk. Because of that spineless bastard, he had done five hard years in the joint. While in the joint, he found out Harry had sold him out. He had vowed at the time that he would get the son of a bitch back one day. Well, today was that day.