Legend of Witchtrot Road

chapter 14

After five minutes of driving at breakneck speeds down winding back roads, Simon maneuvered the truck into a bumpy, gravel parking lot adjacent to a smal church. I would normal y protest against parking so close to a church, since a graveyard fil ed with spirits of the dead was almost certainly nearby, but I was too curious to complain.

What had Simon discovered in the dark forest of Witchtrot Road?

“What was in the woods?” I blurted out.

“And what was that smel ?” Cal asked. “You scouted ahead of us, but I caught the scent you were fol owing. It was like a harsh chemical smel , but, you know, different.” Simon sighed and stared straight ahead, out through the windshield, and across the empty gravel parking lot. I fol owed his gaze, but there was nothing there. Simon seemed to be trying to gauge how much to tel us. That just made me mad. Why hold something back from his friends?

“Simon?” Cal asked.

Cal’s voice was gentle, but there must have been a note of command hiding in his words. Simon jerked, like a puppet on a string, and swung his head to face Cal directly.

“This information could place you in danger,” Simon said. “Are you sure you real y want to know?”

“Yes,” Cal and I said in unison.

Simon let out a long sigh and rubbed his hands over his face, fingers lingering over his scar.

“It was a meth lab,” Simon said. “I thought I recognized the scent. That’s why I ran ahead…to be sure.” Simon knew what a meth lab smel ed like? No real surprise there. He ran with some shady characters after Meredith died and seemed to keep in touch with many of them.

“Meth?” I asked. “Doesn’t that stuff make you, like, a zombie or something?”

I

remember

watching

a

documentary

about

methamphetamine abuse. It was scarier than any late night horror movie. Users ended up with permanent schizophrenia and Parkinson’s symptoms. They also lost al their teeth. Ewww.

“Yes,” Simon said. “It can make you like a zombie…or worse, usual y the latter.”

Simon looked worried and haunted. His hands were twitching whenever he let go of the steering wheel. He would look down and see them shaking, then reach back up to slide his hands over the leather covering.

“I can’t believe there’s a meth lab here in Maine,” Cal said.

Simon may have looked haunted, but Cal looked defeated. Cal’s shoulders slumped forward as he shook his head. We were a great team against wayward werewolves and lost spirits, but what could we do against evil drug dealers?

There was no mistake that these people were evil.

They were bringing drugs into our town, probably into our school, and hurting anyone who came too close to their operation. These people had used the legend of Witchtrot Road to scare away passersby, but they had gone too far.

Way too far.

“They threw the toads at Dylan’s motorcycle and Emma’s car, didn’t they?” I asked.

“Were there toads at the scene of Dylan’s accident?” Cal asked.

“Yes,” I said. “The kids at school thought it was more evidence of the legendary curse.”

“These people need to be stopped,” Simon growled.

“I can’t believe anyone would go so far to protect their secret,” Cal said. “They kil ed Dylan, and almost kil ed Emma and Yuki, to keep people away from their drug lab.”

“That lab is worth a lot of money and these people are ruthless,” Simon said. “They’l go to any lengths to continue producing drugs. That’s why knowing their secret is so dangerous.”

“Did you real y mean what you said about trying to avoid being shot and blown up?” I asked.

“Yes,” Simon said. “It wouldn’t be unusual for these people to be armed and meth labs have been known to blow up. The people who run the labs are not always the most intel igent.”

Great, idiots with guns.

Cal squeezed my hand and I knew he was worried.

We had just been running around in a forest that hid armed drug dealers and a potential y combustible, possibly explosive drug lab. We were lucky to be alive.

“We need a plan,” Cal said, sitting up straight.

“Someone needs to stop these people.”

My skin crawled like spiders were dancing beneath the surface and the truck fil ed with the smel of lamp oil, charcoal, and burning leaves. Son of a dung beetle. There were five or six shadowy, gray shapes moving steadily toward us.

I real y needed to get working on that Wakefield area ghost map. This smal churchyard burial ground must be fil ed with angry spirits. Something I would have known if I had a map to navigate away from tragic hot spots and the graves of those who had died a violent death.

“Um, guys, I’m al for the plan idea, but can we get out of here?” I said, lips trembling. “We have company, ghostly company, and they don’t look like the warm and fuzzy type.” The Grays freaked me out. Seeing them gather in numbers, when it wasn’t even Samhain, was not a good sign.

“Hold on,” Simon said.

Cal held my hand as Simon hit the gas. Gravel rained behind us as we hit the pavement and sped away from the church and its creepy residents.

“Thanks,” I said, swal owing air.

“I’m worried,” Cal said, brow furrowing. “Hasn’t there been a lot of spectral activity since your accident?”

“You mean, since my powers expanded or whatever?” I asked, shrugging. “Yeah, I guess so, but I’ve also been hanging out in areas where there are typical y more ghosts.

I usual y avoid hospitals and church graveyards because of al the spirits there. It might just be a coincidence.”

“Or your new, stronger powers may be drawing them to you,” Cal said. “I know you want to give Nera’s amulet back to the Salem witches, but maybe we should wait and see.”

“I guess it’s just one more reason to help as many good spirits as possible,” I said.

I stil wanted to return the amulet to its rightful owners.

The faster I could do that, the better. My recent nightmare about the witches coming to kil al of my friends was an added motivator. I could stil feel their warm blood on my hands. The message of the dream was clear. If I didn’t return the amulet to the Salem witches, there would be repercussions and it would be my fault.

“Cal mentioned your plan to build an army of friendly spirits,” Simon said. “I approve.”

Wow, Simon agreed with me twice in one day. The apocalypse truly was coming.

“So what are we waiting for?” I asked. “Let’s go find a way to help Dylan’s ghost.”

“Where to?” Simon asked.

My phone beeped with an incoming text message from Emma. She was awake and, according to her text, bored out of her mind.

“To Emma’s house,” I said, grinning.

Simon sighed, but a little smile touched his lips.

“You do realize she’s going to bring charges of animal cruelty against that lot for tossing toads at moving vehicles,” Simon said, shaking his head.

“You know her wel ,” I said.

The smel of lavender and honey fil ed the air and wrapped around me like a sweetly scented blanket.

“Yes, I guess I do,” Simon said.