The Visitor(67)

Once I got my bearings, it was easy enough to retrace my steps to the cemetery, and from there, I made my way back to the original entrance. As I emerged from the woods, I spotted Dr. Shaw pacing in front of my car. He grasped my arms as I rushed up to him, searching my harried appearance, taking in the twigs and dead leaves still clinging to my hair and clothing. “My dear, are you all right? Where on earth were you? I’ve been worried sick about you.”

“We should get out of here,” I said on a breath.

He frowned. “Why? What’s happened? The way you looked just now...it was as if the devil himself were at your heels.”

“I’m not so sure you’re that far off the mark. That’s why we need to get out of these woods and head back to town. We’re not safe here.”

His eyes clouded with concern. “Of course. Whatever you say. But we’ll have to take your vehicle.”

I glanced around anxiously. “Where’s yours?”

“I sent my colleague for some equipment.” He scoured my face once again. “I wish you would tell me what happened.”

“I will, but let’s get away from here first.”

My frenzied behavior must have gotten through to him, because he nodded without another word and climbed into the SUV. I started the engine and began the delicate operation of turning the vehicle on the narrow road. I knew that Dr. Shaw was bursting with questions, but to his credit, he held his silence and allowed me to concentrate on my driving as I maneuvered along the narrow trail.

I had to fight the impulse to step on the gas. I couldn’t wait to be out of those woods. The trees seemed to close in on us from both sides and the ghost voices were starting to chatter. I lifted a hand to wipe a trickle of sweat from my brow as I forced myself to take it slow and easy so that we didn’t bottom out in a hole or crash into a tree. The last thing I wanted was to be stranded in that creepy place with the voices of the dead filling my head and flies gathering on my windshield.

Only when I eased onto the blacktop did I feel a weight lift from my shoulders. I glanced in the rearview mirror. There was nothing but clear road in our wake.

I could feel Dr. Shaw’s gaze on me and I spared him a glance. “I noticed an abandoned gas station just outside town. We can stop there for a bit. My hands are still shaking. I need to get my nerves under control before we reach a main road.”

“That’s a good idea,” he said, and then he turned his head back to the window to watch the passing scenery. A few minutes later, I spotted the faded sign and slowed to make the turn onto the gravel drive. By the look of the building, the business had been out of operation for decades. The twin pumps had long since disappeared and kudzu had claimed most of the roof. The derelict station was a forlorn-looking place and I didn’t much like sitting with my back to it. But I thought it best to face the road so that we could spot anyone or anything trying to sneak up on us.

Dr. Shaw rummaged through his rucksack and produced a thermos. “Tea? It’ll help settle your nerves.”

“Yes, thank you. You’re a lifesaver.” I accepted his offering and wrapped my fingers around the cup so that I could absorb the warmth through my palms. Despite the outside temperature, my blood remained chilled.

“Now,” Dr. Shaw said briskly, after he’d allowed me a fortifying sip. “Tell me what happened.”

I watched a passing car on the highway as I gathered my thoughts. I wasn’t quite ready to revisit what I’d experienced in Rose’s sanctuary. The confrontation with Micah Durant in the cemetery was an easier place to start. “Do you remember the discussion we had at Oak Grove about Louvenia’s grandson, Micah? About how unsettled we felt by him?”

“Yes, of course, I remember. Why?”

“I had the oddest run-in with him back at the cemetery. But even before that, I think he may have been following me.” Quickly, I recounted my previous encounter with Micah at the Unitarian Churchyard. Then I described the incident with the swarming bees and Micah’s later appearance in Kroll Cemetery. I even told Dr. Shaw about fleeing under the cover of a cicada cloud.

“The great Southern horde,” he said in awe. “How fortuitous that their seventeen-year cycle culminated at the precise moment you needed a distraction.”

I didn’t think it fortuitous at all. Somehow Mott had awakened those cicadas. I hadn’t seen her in the cemetery or even sensed her presence. But I suspected she’d been there all along, scrabbling through the cemetery walls or hovering in the gloom watching me.

“What do you suppose that young man is up to?” Dr. Shaw mused.

“Micah? I’m not entirely certain, but I know I don’t trust him.” I paused, taking another quick survey of our surroundings. “I don’t think I trust any of them. They’re an eccentric family, to say the least.”

“Eccentricity is hardly a crime, my dear, and I must say, his behavior with the bees has me intrigued. However, I can’t help wondering if there’s something more you’re not telling me.” His gaze swept over my features. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

I closed my eyes on a shudder. “Something else did happen, but not in the cemetery. I lost my way in the maze and stumbled upon my great-grandmother’s house.”

“Your great-grandmother?”

“Rose Gray. The woman in the stereogram.”