The Hunt (Dubois Chronicles 1.07)
DJ Dubois
Originally Written March 1986; Revised January 1994; Second Revision September
2004
Notes: This is from the first Dubois series. Some
scenes (i. e: Nick’s initial flashbacks) appeared in “The Book”/ “Hearts of
Darkness Part I.” (Dubois Second Series). The characters from Forever Knight
are from Sony Tri-Star. The characters from Xena Warrior Princess belong to
StudiosUSA and MCA. All other characters are mine. Please send comments
to dante0220@yahoo.com .
Introduction
[Tucson, AZ, El Gato Negro Club, August 2007 (Immediately following “Genomex:
1982 (Dubois 2.83)”]
Nick Miles (aka Nicolas de Brabant) writes…..
The struggle between the forces of light and
darkness continues eternally. There are those of us who are caught between
them. Such is my fate. Such also is David Dubois’ destiny. Even as I continue
on here in Tucson for my fifth year, I think of how we both have made our lives
bearable largely due to the friends surrounding us.
But alas, that almost didn’t happen for him….
As I discover more about his life, I wonder how Dave survived his teenage
years. The war for survival against Anne Lichtenfeld’s ghost claimed important
casualties among his family and friends. Yet those who stuck by him became
stronger as a result. They are all down here now—or, as in April McKenzie’s
case—will be soon. I am thankful that they could watch over him when Community
affairs took me elsewhere.
Watching Dave’s eternal struggle saddens me.
While I’m proud to be his friend, his suffering weighs heavily on me. If only
LaCroix and I had killed Lichtenfeld in the Lower Valley before she could have
cursed him. If so, maybe none of this would have happened and a boy could have
been spared the agony.
Such was not to be and the Witch saw fit to
make it so. Accordingly, she kidnapped his friends and dared him to return to
the darkness to save them. She knew they could turn him to the light and sought
to rid herself of them. Dave also knew there was no choice….He would save his
friends or die trying.
That is why I defied LaCroix and returned to
Rowenshire. Dave’s burden is ours too despite what my former master believed.
I stood by him that weekend and it was at that time, that I saw the first signs
of the Child’s emergence.
If only things had been different for us both….
Chapter 1 [Rowenshire, MA—November 1720]
Fresh from a successful hunt, Nicholas and LaCroix
returned to an inn in the center of the small town of Rowenshire, MA. They
wanted rest but they discovered something else.
Some one had set the inn ablaze, consuming their
possessions in the process.
LaCroix deduced the cause; his senses tracing
something peculiar coming from the north. “Come, Nicholas!” He ran into the
forest, leading the former Crusader toward cover. Once there, he took off into
the night sky.
The two vampires flew through the trees using them
as cover from mortal eyes. Following the dirt road, they headed north. Within
minutes, they spied a sizeable clearing. Landing there, the immortals
discovered a meadow with waving grasses and oak trees off to one side. In the
middle of the field, a single white painted house stood watch over the
property. Upon closer inspection, they discerned a small plowed area behind the
structure along with a barn.
“The house is quiet, LaCroix,” Nick presumed.
The Elder stretched out with his senses and
agreed, “Indeed. Still, she’s close by.” He turned toward the woods in front
of them. “Yes. Close by indeed and not alone. Be on your guard.” From
previous experience, he knew what waited for them down there: a witches’
Sabbath. More than likely the local coven. Recalling what he had
overheard from Nick’s conversation with the priest in the inn, he said to
himself, They skulk and worship their insignificant demon. Nicholas, you
were right in what you said to the priest. If the Lichtenfeld woman is a witch
and knows of our existence, then we need to silence her immediately.
They made their way down the forest path, subtly
closing in on the festivities. Finally, they saw three people dancing around a
bonfire uttering something in an unknown tongue.
[“What are they saying?” Nick asked through their
link.]
[“I don’t know, mon filis,” LaCroix
responded.] For almost an hour, they watched the events before sensing someone
approaching.
“Who?” Nick inquired, reaching out and pulling the
intruder toward them. It was Father Ricard LaFontaine, the town’s priest.
“Father?” he whispered.
“Oui,” the priest whispered. “The townspeople are
on their way up here with blood in their hearts. It is as I feared. This is a
Sabbath. What do we do?”
At that moment, the ritual stopped. Lichtenfeld
looked toward them and invited, “Are ye there, masters? Show yerselves or I’ll
have to take more drastic measures!” Summoning dark energies from the air
around her, she let fly with two black fiery bursts, scoring the trees beside
the three intruders.
“That’s it!” the Elder hissed and moved out into
the clearing followed closely by Nick.
Lichtenfeld smiled coldly. She had hoped that her
master would send the two vampires on this night. “We have yet to be properly
introduced.”
“Mistress Anne Lichtenfeld, correct?” Nick
guessed.
“Aye, my ancient ones. And ye are?”
“Lucien LaCroix and Nicolas de Brabant,” LaCroix
responded, watching her carefully.
“And yer friend—ah, the good priest. Do ye know
who yer companions are, Ricard LaFontaine?” the sorceress taunted. “Ye travel
with dark creatures as well. Vampires, as they are called.”
“With that, you signed your death warrant!” the
Elder stated. “Nicholas, take the other two. This one’s mine!”
Nick advanced on the two cultists. Unlike their
mistress, they had no dark powers, settling for simply trying to overpower him.
Within minutes, he had bested them both, willing them to sleep.
“Watch them!” he told LaFontaine, zipping off to
help his master.
They are really vampires. Amazing. The Lord
does work in mysterious ways.
****
In the meantime, LaCroix advanced on the witch,
challenging her to do something. He detested sorceresses and
priestesses—whether they were of so-called “white” or “black” persuasions. As a
Roman commander, he had authorized mass killings of her kind. Now, he would
deal with her himself.
“Ye should not be so confident, my dear Lucien!”
she chided, blasting him with dark fire.
Feeling the dark energy burning him, the vampire
dropped to the ground. “Blast!”
From the rear, Nick bulled into her, disrupting
her concentration and allowing his master time to regain his footing.
“Ye shouldn’t have done that, Nicolas,” she
advised, firing an errant energy plume from her hand.
Faster than the eye could follow, the two vampires
flew around, evading her blasts until they managed to wrench her arms behind
her. With his belt, Nick bound her hands and stuffed a handkerchief into her
mouth to prevent further mystical mischief.
“Now to kill her,” LaCroix urged, bearing his
fangs.
“No wait!” Ricard protested. “Bring her before
the townsfolk for proper judgment.”
“And to be judged ourselves, I’d imagine?” the
General doubted. “Forgive me if I doubt your intentions.”
“The knowledge of what you are will remain a
secret--one that I will take to the grave with me. I and the townspeople owe
you both that much. But when this is over, you will need to leave here.
Agreed?” the priest proposed.
“It’s a deal,” Nick accepted. “Let’s get her back
to town.”
Even as they concluded this arrangement, a mob of
Rowenshire residents approached them.
Michael stood at the head of the throng.
Approaching the quartet, he asked, “What is this? Did you see?”
“A witches’ Sabbath,” LaCroix noted, pointing out
the still burning bonfire, a bloody knife and the two others still lying beside
them.
The crowd surveyed the scene. Not needing much
evidence in any event, the people seized the man and woman on the ground as well
as Lichtenfeld, and led them back toward town.
****
The “trial” was short and quick. With the
evidence in clear view of everyone as well as the local people’s accounts, the
three prisoners prepared themselves for the guilty verdict, which came with
lightning speed.
As they were led to the great oak in the village
square, the condemned walked indignantly—not giving their persecutors any
satisfaction. Reaching the spot, the great oak on the southern edge of the
village common, the nooses were slung over two particularly heavy branches.
Father Ricard offered to give last rites, but they
vehemently refused.
After her cohorts were dispatched, Lichtenfeld sat
on a horse under the branch with the noose hanging about her neck. She glared
at her neighbors for doing this to her.
“Any last words, witch?” an older gentleman with
snow-white hair asked.
After they removed the gag, she cackled wickedly.
“Ye can kill this body, but ye won’t kill my spirit. I curse ye all, yer
friends, and yer families. To the two travelers yonder, much distress will ye
find. Young Nicolas will seek answers splitting him from his companion. As for
you, Ricard LaFontaine, I curse ye and yer family. When next they return here,
they will know sorrow, be denied the love of home and hearth, the rejection of
their neighbors, and that I will be waiting for them. In that time, a father’s
greed will force his family and their friends into hardship. His oldest son
will hate him. And as for that special child…ah, special indeed…I’ll split his
soul in two and put him against all of ye!”
“Do your worst!” LaCroix challenged. “I fear
nothing of so-called curses and foul air!”
“All right. Enough!” the old man cut in, spurring
the horse out from under her.
As she dropped, Lichtenfeld stared intently at the
two vampires and at the priest before her eyes finally shut. The rope’s jerk
snapped her neck, ending things quickly.
“Burn her body and scatter the ashes about that
foul place. We all agree to leave the meadow alone. Father, will ye bless the
land?” the old man continued.
“I can try,” the priest agreed. In a largely
Protestant land, his little Catholic flock needed protection on all sides.
“Meantime Nicolas and Lucien, I believe this settles my end of the bargain?”
“It does,” LaCroix concurred grimly. “And thank
you for your assistance.”
“Thank you,” Nick added, shaking the man’s hand.
“Despite your…sins, there is good in you,
Nicolas. Keep seeking the light, my friend. God hasn’t forsaken you.”
“I know…thank you, father,” Nick expressed before
following his companion down the path and out of the villagers’ sight. Once in
the woods, they took to the air, heading east in search of other prey….
Chapter 2
[Howard Johnson’s, Boston, MA—May, 1980]
Nick woke up with a start. Wiping his hand across
his brow, he felt the bloody droplets there. Why am I thinking of
Lichtenfeld now? She’s long dead. This is ridiculous! He stared at the
ceiling, noting that this particular flashback had cycled through his head
periodically for the past several weeks. It’s not like this is my first trip
back to the area since then.
He shrugged, heading for the shower. After
getting clean and a bottle of Grade-A cow, he’d be ready to get on with the
day’s business.
****
[Thirty minutes later]
Nick stood in front of the mirror, inspecting his
outfit. While he didn’t want to look too fancy, the white button down shirt,
light blue slacks and matching blazer looked all right for a vacationing
detective from Chicago. “Yeah. This works.”
The phone rang.
“Yes?” he answered.
“Hey, Nick, it’s Nikki DiCosta. How was the
flight in?” New England’s Elder inquired.
The former Crusader grinned, recalling some of the
experiences he had with the slender blonde former Castilian princess. “It was
great. Thanks. Are we set for ten?”
“Oh definitely,” she replied with a slight lilt to
her voice. “I’m waiting for you here at the Captain’s Hearth. Remember how to
get here, Corazon?”
She never quits. He chuckled, thinking of
all the competition between Nikki and Janette over the centuries for him. They
had met right after Janette had left him, ending their 97 year marriage. For
the next twenty years, they hung out together, enjoying each other’s company.
Because she made him relish being a vampire,
LaCroix approved and even encouraged her to be around.
Too bad Nikki’s presence had the opposite effect
on Janette. Predictably, the two ladies of the night had their fights over the
former knight. Some of the fights turned really nasty, disrupting the balance
of Communal affairs.
In the end, Nick decided to stay away from Nikki
for a half century at least. However, business drew him back to her. “I
do.”
“And you’re still doing the…animal?” she wondered,
making a face as she said it.
“That’s right,” he agreed, smirking as he sensed
the vibes coming from her.
“And Janie lets you do it, eh?” she teased.
“Janette and I haven’t spoken in some time
actually,” he pointed out regretfully. I really need to get back to Toronto
and see her.
“Oh perdona mi! Janette and you haven’t
spoken in a while? Sounds to me like someone’s finally smartening up! 10:00,
my brave knight. I’ll see you then with the…low test,” she concluded, hanging
up.
Maybe Nikki’s stirring up the feelings? Come
on, Nick, get a hold of yourself! “Maybe a drive around the city would be
good for me.” Locking the room, he got into the rented Chevy convertible and
pulled out into traffic, letting his thoughts wander and his mind relax.
****
[Captain’s Hearth—10:00 PM]
Nick walked into the dimly lit tavern perched over
the water on its own dock. Smoke filled the air as humans and vampires enjoyed
their drinks in their groups; neither side paying much attention to the others’
glasses. In his current role as a bookstore dealer in Chicago, he didn’t get
back to the east coast as much as he would have liked. Seeing the sights of
Boston made him want to do that. This, however, dampened that a bit.
He felt a tap on the shoulder. Turning, he saw
Nikki standing there with a quirked eyebrow and a cigarette in her right hand.
“Not bad for fifty, Nick,” she remarked, inspecting every inch of him. “Glad to
see you.”
“And I’m glad to see you,” he agreed truthfully.
“Although, I sense it’s not exactly all pleasure.”
“It could be, mi Amor,” she suggested
playfully.
He sighed. “Nikki, remember the last time.”
“Oh, Nick, Janie’s not here. Lighten up. Have
some fun before we have to deal with our affair,” she urged.
“Nikki, work first,” he countered, giving her a
serious look. “I have some questions myself and they’re tied to here.”
“Really?” she asked, feeling intrigued by his last
statement. “Well then, let’s get your moo-juice and get on with it, shall we?”
He rolled his eyes at the terrible pun as he
followed her into the back room and watched her close the door. “Nice office.”
She smiled. “It’s good for private conferences
such as this one.” She took a deep breath. “As much as I wish this was for
pleasure, Nick, it isn’t. We have a serious situation brewing to the west of
here.”
Recalling his dreams, he asked, “West? As in
Springfield? Worcester? Northampton?”
“You’re getting warm,” she declared, walking over
to a wall map of Massachusetts. “Rowenshire. An old friend of yours is making
her presence felt again.”
“Lichtenfield? But she’s imprisoned on the land!
She won’t be a factor until a LaFontaine moves back there. None of them would
be foolish enough,” he protested.
“Curses and legends are so easily dismissed by
mortals, my Dear. You know that as well as I,” she pointed out. “A descendant,
Stuart Dubois, did so.”
Nick rubbed his head, knowing that if he were
mortal, there’d be a headache right about now. “It’s a big white house,” he
realized.
“You know? And you did nothing? Nicolas, you
should have let us know!” she lectured him, letting her eyes change.
He shook his head, realizing the whole story. “I
was at a colleague’s funeral two years ago in Amherst. His grandson told me a
story about a glowing lady who killed him in the house.”
“Si. That boy is the oldest son, David Dubois.
You know what that means, Nick?” she asked.
“He’s the accursed one,” Nick stated. “I told his
grandmother to get him out of there.”
“The family left. It didn’t work,” she informed
him. “You know Gregory Milton?”
He nodded, recalling the former nineteenth century
English patrolman. “I didn’t see him here. Usually, he would be talking to
us.”
“Usually, he would. He is up in Amherst, watching
the situation. Nick, the ghost has followed the boy and has appeared at several
very public places including the school and at a theater in Ware,” she
reported. “According to Gregory, the darkness grows in him. He fights it and
is trying to develop a normal life. How long can any teenager hold out against
this witch? Nick, you and LaCroix defeated her. We need you to deal with the
ghost before she can cause the boy to mutate into her creature.”
“He was already doing that two years ago,” he
remembered. “But I’ll see what I can do. I can drive to Amherst tonight if
need be.”
“No. He’s coming here actually,” she noted. “It
seems the boy has a flair for journalism. He won a prize in a state contest.
The ceremony’s at the Boston Museum of Natural History tomorrow night. Stay
close to him, Nick.”
He concurred, “I’ll do that. And if the ghost
strikes?”
“We deal with it even if it means the Dubois boy’s
life,” she ascertained.
If it comes to that, Lorenzo, forgive me.
He guzzled the cow blood down and mused over things for a while.
They talked until dawn and then, he ended up
staying with her for the day.
But one thing was for sure. The dreams weren’t
random. They were warnings and it seemed they were about to come true. I
hope David can hold his own. I don’t know how he’d do it but I hope he does.
Chapter 3 [Amherst—Janet Dubois’ house 2:30 PM the
next afternoon]
Unaware of the planning in Boston, Dave stood in
front of the mirror in his grandmother’s bedroom. Inside of his stomach, he
felt the butterflies churning away. Terrific. Leave it to me to win this
award. Frankly, I wish that one of the seniors had gotten it instead. Ah well,
go with it. He straightened his tie, making sure it looked all right.
“There!”
He also worried about the ghost. It would be
like her to pull something today. He had already reminded his friends to be
extra careful. In addition, they agreed to check on his grandmother while he
was gone.
“Dave, come on!” his grandmother called.
“Coming!” he replied, heading down the stairs to
find Dr. Alvarez, the superintendent, Mrs. Colavitto, his journalism advisor and
the former’s daughter, Karen, waiting for him. “Sorry! I wanted to make sure
that I looked okay.”
“You’re fine,” Dr. Alvarez assured him. “We
thought you’d run away on us.”
“Remember, this is a proud moment for all of us,”
Mrs. C. told him.
He nodded. The story about his friends in Kansas
had received praise from most of the major wire services. “Karen, you should be
there too.”
“Someone’s got to watch the store, right?
Besides, Daddy will be with you,” his best friend assured him with a warm smile
and a rub on the shoulder. “I’ll want all of the details.”
“Is that you, your sister or our leader there
speaking?” he teased.
“Maybe all three. Give yourself some credit,
Chief. Knock ‘em dead!” Karen declared.
“On that note, Amigo, we need to get
going. Boston’s two and a half hours away. Banquet starts at 7,” Dr. Alvarez
reminded him.
Janet grinned warmly at him. “This is the
capstone to a great first year, Dave. After everything that’s happened to us,
you’re due.”
“I suppose,” Dave agreed. Seeing the others’ eyes
shining at him, he managed a smile. “But this is a team award. Clear?”
“Fine. As long as you remember that your name’s
on it, Pal,” Karen retorted. “Go on. We’ll be waiting.”
Following her father’s lead, the anxious teen
headed to his station wagon and they took off down Route 9, heading for
Belchertown and the Mass Pike. Still, his nerves continued to eat at him.
Just let everything be all right!
*****
[Rowenshire, Old Dubois House]
Even as Dave worried, activity several miles to
the north was backing those feelings up. North of the old town of Rowenshire,
his longtime adversary planned her revenge. Since their last encounter three
months earlier, she had laid in wait, watching her target and his friends.
Those brats give him hope! NAY! I won’t have it!
As long as Dave was there to protect them, she
determined to watch. With his absence came opportunity.
Perhaps they give him strength but they’re also
fine bait as well. She grinned. “Sunset comes and with it, I fly!”
A growl came from the Lower Valley.
“Yes, my Sweet, yer comin’ too! I wouldn’t want
ye to miss this fer anything!” the ghost vowed.
*****
[Inside of the museum]
Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to get inside for
the banquet prior to sunset, Nick pulled some strings to stay in the curator’s
office. Willie’s a good friend. Thankfully, he didn’t ask a lot of
questions. As he waited for the event to begin, he scanned some of the
colonial histories to refresh his memory of previous events.
As he flipped through the pages, the events from
Salem Village came to his attention once more. Good thing the scholars blame
everything on urgot. If they really knew there were dark witches in the area,
they’d have a panic on their hands. Over the years, he had encountered
several types of mystical practitioners—both of the light and dark arts. The
people wouldn’t understand. But there was something else. Something about
this location. The building reeked of dark magic for some reason.
Then his mind seized on the reason as it flashed
back…..
*****
[Boston, MA—November 1720]
Nick and LaCroix landed in an alley. For much of
the previous three nights, they had made their way east, stopping only to feed
on occasional victims in Worcester and along the post road. Now they needed a
base if only for a little while.
“Perhaps the inn will have accommodations,” the
General suggested. “Come, Nicholas, sunrise isn’t far off.”
Eager for a good bed, the former Crusader followed
his master.
Once inside of the two story structure, they
headed for the bar.
“We need lodgings. Where is the innkeeper?”
LaCroix pointedly asked.
“I’m he. Jacob Bartough is my name. And ye are?”
Bartough requested.
“Lucien LaCroix and Nicholas Chevalier,” the
General replied, surveying the area.
“Thank ye, Masters. Two pence gets ye a room,”
the innkeeper agreed.
“Thanks,” Nick expressed while taking their room
key and heading upstairs. Letting them into the room, he observed, “The room is
as Spartan as always.”
“The décor doesn’t matter, Nicholas. The room
serves its purpose,” LaCroix reminded him, settling onto one of the two beds.
“Rest now. After that business with the witch, I should like to take a few days
here and sample the local fare.”
Nick looked out the window toward the square. For
some reason, the town had linked it off with a chain barricade and built an
enormous cross in its center. Around the perimeter, two priests poured holy
water. “LaCroix, look! What could that be?”
The elder vampire sighed, wanting only to sleep
but decided to indulge his son. Seeing the cross right outside the window made
him stiffen and scowl. “The superstitious fools seek to protect themselves from
their imagined demons and devils, I’d imagine. Close those shutters, Nicholas,
and get to sleep.”
****
The following night, Nick headed out to take a
closer look at the curious site. As he approached, he felt repulsed by the holy
water on the grass. In a curious paradox, he felt attracted by the cross.
Perhaps a remembrance of before. He smiled remembering the Maid’s faith in God
and him while they were in the donjon.
Despite the holy trappings, the site emanated both
good and evil vibrations, as if a conflict for it still went on.
“What is this?” he asked aloud to nobody in
particular.
“Can I help ye, sir?” a voice asked.
He turned to see the two priests from the night
before standing there with pails of holy water. “I just had some questions.”
“About this place? Feel free to ask,” the elderly
priest replied, as he set about his work.
Nick took a couple of steps back to avoid the
effects of the holy blessing materials. “Why are there such elaborate measures
being taken? Is this a shrine?”
The second priest looked at him darkly. “Nay,
sir! This is a wicked foul place. We seek to cleanse it with God’s holy
symbols and purification!”
“Foul place?” the traveler asked, recalling his
recent experience with the coven. “As in demons?”
“Aye! And them witches from Salem Village!
Satanic rituals were held on that very spot!” the younger priest continued.
“Calm yerself,” the elder clergyman commanded.
“Those were in years past. The people of Boston drove them away, destroying
most of the foul gathering back in ‘93. There were other incidents around the
colony. Who knows what lurks in the western hills? That harlot Rebecca
Lichtenfeld may have survived there!”
Who knows indeed? “Did you say Lichtenfeld?”
“Aye! Why?” the old man inquired.
“The name’s familiar is all. Perhaps a story I
heard in Springfield. Good night, my friends,” Nick declared, hustling away.
As he did so, the priests eyed him suspiciously
but made no further issue of their presence.
****
[Room]
Nick rushed back into the room and closed the door
quickly.
LaCroix looked up with disdain at his emotional
entrance. “You must learn to control yourself, Nicholas. One might think you
had just seen a ghost.”
“No but I may have heard of one,” Nick told him.
“I discovered what the spot was down there.”
“You are always too curious. Yes I know you spoke
to the good men of the cloth. Do tell,” the General taunted.
“There was some sort of coven event down there.
And a woman named Rebecca Lichtenfeld was involved,” the former Crusader
reported. “It happened in 1693.”
“Really?” LaCroix asked, fighting his amusement
but yet feeling intrigued as well. “That name is familiar.”
“The witch in Rowenshire, LaCroix. The one they
hanged a week ago. That’s her name!” Nick stated.
“Really, Nicholas, calm yourself. We are fine. I
keep telling you there are no such things as demons and devils. Still, with the
priests blessing this area, we should move on. Thank you for the report. Now
come, we head south.”
“Actually, LaCroix, I’d like to head west. Can I
catch up with you in Providence?” Nick requested.
“Nicholas, remember what the priest said? Don’t
go back there,” LaCroix reminded him.
“I have to! He needs to know!” With that, Nick
was gone, flying into the night.
The General hissed through his teeth. Still he
had warned the boy and if the latter flew into a trap, then so be it.
However, if those pathetic villagers hurt Nick,
they’d find the younger Lichtenfeld a walk in the park compared to him….
****
[Library, Museum—1980]
Nick snapped back to reality, realizing the
significance of his feelings. “That old square is part of this building!” He
clapped the book shut and slid it back onto the shelf. As he hustled, he saw
that the writers were entering the banquet room.
Willie Greenberg, the curator, approached him.
“Nicholas, is there something wrong?”
“There could be,” Nick replied. “I have a
question concerning the layout of this building. I remember seeing pictures of
a giant cross in this part of the city.”
Having known Nick’s true nature since the fifties,
the elderly curator nodded and leaned close to him. “Just pictures?” he
whispered. Seeing the vampire shrug, he continued, “Feeling uneasy are we? You
should be with all of the…umm…water on the ground under the concrete.”
“Yeah,” Nick declared, looking into the room. “So
where was the cross?”
“More importantly, where was the Spot?” the
curator asked. “The podium if the records are correct. Why?”
He shook his head. “Maybe nothing. Maybe a lot.
Keep your eyes open, Willie.”
Willie stared at his friend, knowing that look.
“Who is it?”
“Just keep your eyes open. That’s all I can tell
you,” Nick advised, heading to his seat.
Now what is going on? I wish Nick would tell
me when trouble’s in my facility. With that, the curator headed for his
seat.
****
[In the room]
Making sure to arrive an hour early, Dr. Alvarez
took Dave on a tour of the museum. Knowing the freshman’s interest in history,
he banked on the artifacts having a calming influence on the younger man.
For his part, Dave did enjoy the exhibits and
artifacts. He took careful notes in his program, hoping to get a chance to
interview the curator at some point.
Finally, the time came when they had to enter the
banquet area. As they walked in, Dave felt really out of place, seeing all of
the tuxedos and trappings.
“I wish I had known,” he whispered to the
superintendent.
“Don’t worry about it,” the elder man replied as
they put their name tags on. “We’re fine.”
Dave took a long look around the area, trying to
sort out who was who. For some reason, he started to feel anxious. Then he
noticed that the mark on his hand was glowing. Oh great! Why here? As
they moved closer to the dais, he felt as though someone was sticking pins in
his back.
“Dave, what is it?” Dr. Alvarez wondered.
“I don’t know but it’s the You Know What,” Dave
whispered, showing him his hand. “Why here?” He collapsed into a chair. “The
garbage is really bad here.”
“David?” Nick inquired, approaching them. He
couldn’t help but feel the vibrations from across the room.
The teenager glanced at him. “Dr. O’ Connor, what
are you doing here?”
Remembering his former identity as an
archaeologist, Nick slipped into the role without missing a beat. “I was
reading up on some things in the library this weekend and heard that you were
winning an award tonight. I hope you don’t mind if I’m here.”
“Of course not. Grandpa Alvaro would be thrilled
that you could be here,” Dave concurred. “Oh by the way, Dr. Nicholas O’
Connor, this is Dr. Ricardo Alvarez, the superintendent for the Amherst Public
Schools. Dr. Alvarez, Dr. O’ Connor, a friend and colleague of Grandpa
Alvaro’s.”
“Really? It’s an honor,” Dr. Alvarez agreed,
shaking Nick’s hand. “From what Dave says, he was quite a man.”
“He was that,” Nick replied. “There’s something
else though. How are you holding up otherwise if you get my drift?”
“It’s okay, Dr. O’ Connor. Dr. Alvarez has met
her face to face,” Dave indicated, feeling another spasm coming on. “By the
way, is there something about this place I should know about?”
“Should there be?” Nick asked, not wanting to tell
the teenager any more than he had to.
Dave pulled his hand ever so slightly out of his
pocket, revealing the glowing mark there. “You tell me.”
“Dave, is that wise?” the superintendent asked,
looking around.
“We could be in big trouble if this is any sign,”
Dave insisted.
“This isn’t the greatest place in the world for
you to be if that’s what you mean,” Nick informed him. “That’s another reason I
stayed around for tonight. Yes, this place is tied to her.”
“I’m more worried about what’s going on back in
Amherst,” Dave mentioned, as he saw the big wigs starting to collect around the
high table. “Let’s find a table. Dinner’s about to begin.”
****
[An hour and a half later]
Dinner went very well. The chicken dish was very
well done and the conversation was pleasant.
Dave enjoyed listening to the others, trying to
learn from them. When someone asked a question, he answered it, noting key
points about the museum and the Lionel piece. Of course, he made sure to
mention Karen’s name in connection with the latter. I wish she were here.
Seeing the young man’s face dim a bit, Nick asked,
“You should have asked for an extra ticket. The museum would have given you
one.”
“We didn’t want to impose,” Dr. Alvarez replied
although he knew that his daughter wanted to be there too. Dr. O’ Connor has
an excellent point. Besides, she could keep Dave more upbeat.
“I’ll be giving her the play by play when we get
back,” Dave informed them.
Nick smiled. “See? The aspiring journalist gets
an opportunity. You’ll be fine.” Seeing the Master of Ceremonies walk up to
the podium, he indicated, “It’s time to begin.”
“Good evening, everyone,” the heavy set balding
man with the white beard announced. “Our thanks to the Museum of Natural
History for allowing us to honor our finest college and in one case, high
school, journalists tonight. These young minds are our future so let’s give
them their due, shall we?” After some polite applause from the audience, he
took the first envelope and started in….
Let’s just get through without a problem.
Dave glanced toward the northwest, feeling as though the crap were about to hit
the fan there even as he dealt with the ‘Lichtenfeld Link’ in their current
location.
Likewise, Nick kept carefully watch over the
younger man, watching for other signs of supernatural behavior and dreading if
he would have to carry out his charge.