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Chapters
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
 
 
 

April Witch - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Stella
Last updated: 01/02/2007 02:01:11 AM

Chapter 9

He came right t’rough de fire like a devil. His body looked like it was pulled taffy. Coughed and squinted in de smoke, tears running down my face. Etienne was under me, I’d managed t’ throw myself on top of him as de walls came in. Out of de corner of my eye I could see Mercy an’ Henri crumpled in a pile. Couldn’t tell if dey were still alive and de t’ought froze inside me, despite de heat. Heard Emil moan somet’ing behind me. Could’ve laughed wit’ relief den, if it hadn’t been for de man in front o’ me.

Mattie’s musical taste always ran t’ folk songs. She taught dem to us, always saying dat music made de country great and it might as well do de same for us. She had a sweet voice, low and rich. At dat moment, t’inking dat I might never hear dat voice again, it bubbled in my head, just a snatch. “Gone wit’ de man in de long black coat.”

De long black coat. Hit at his ankles. Whipwhip. Light from de fire hurt my eyes. Smoke hurt my lungs. Etienne moved under me, curling into my back. He was only thirteen. Jean-Luc wanted us all t’ save de world at thirteen, or steal it, because dat’s how it’d always been.

“Quickly!” I heard de man shout. His voice was strange somehow, metallic.

It was den dat I saw de devil. At first my vision was so blurry dat I t’ought I was imagining de shape o’ his body, but as he came closer, I could see dat wasn’t de case. He was huge and wide, wit’ pale skin in a sickly color. Could see dat much even t’rough de smoke. His mouth was impossibly large, filled wit’ sharp little teeth. He was hairless an’ nearly naked. He wasn’t human. At dat moment, all I wanted t’ do was turn away, call out for Henri or Emil t’ come an’ face dis t’ing instead of me. But I couldn’t, because I’d had t’ put away childish t’ings like fear for my Tilling an’ I could never get dem back.

De two men stood over me. I couldn’t see dere faces so close, only de feet. De devil had long, twisted toes and thick toenails but no hair anywhere, just masses of lumpy flesh.

“Which ones?” de devil asked.

“All of them,” de man in de coat replied. “We can sort them out later.” Somet’ing in de voice was familiar. I struggled t’ hold onto de familiarity, but it was like a dream dat fades when you wake up. My head was spinning. My eyes fell closed, de lids made o’ lead.

In de next moment, I was hoisted into de air and thrown over de devil’s shoulder. He smelled like expensive cologne. Almost gagged wit’ de stench. My stomach churned.

Once I was outside de house, I managed t’ open my eyes a bit. Lashes stuck t’ my cheeks like wet leaves. Dey tossed us all into de back of a van. All I saw of de other man was a flash o’ pale skin, paler den paper. Somehow, dat was frightening enough.

After dat, I drifted. My half-dreams filled up wit’ de thrum o’ de tires. At one point I forced my eyes open long enough t’ see dat Mercy an’ Henri were in de van as well. Relief filled me up quick. Dey wouldn’t have been dere if dey hadn’t been alive.

Finally, dere was a sound like we were goin’ over gravel. It lasted for a long time. Den de van stopped and de back doors were thrown open.

“Looks like someone’s finally awake,” de man wit’ de metallic voice said. “Pig!” Since he wasn’t directing de last statement at me, I assumed he was talking to de other man. De devil had a name. I felt calmer. No time for fear. No assuming dat rescue would come from anyone but myself.

Never was one t’ “play well wit’ others.”

Couldn’t begin t’ figure who dey were or why dey’d taken us. Oh I could have speculated dat it had somet’ing t’ do wit’ Jean-Luc an’ his business, but dat’s as far as it went. De why t’ me was less important den de how.

Of course, it was at dat moment dat de Pig took me in his arms an’ I nearly vomited from de smell.

“This ain’t only your operation, Essex,” he said angrily. His voice was high an’ wheezy, as if he were having trouble breathing. “Don’t forget where your money comes from.”

“How could I forget,” Essex observed dryly.

I was keeping as still as possible. Figured t’ learn a t’ing or two and use dere conflict against dem.

“Maman?” Etienne must not have been completely awake. Knew he’d never call out for his mother like some young kid if he realized what he was saying. Still, dat one small word, tentative an’ sleepy, broke my heart t’ hear.

Promise dat we’re gettin’ out o’ here, podna, I t’ought fiercely. All of us.

Essex seemed amused by Etienne. “Not quite,” he said. Could hear de smirk in his voice. Somet’ing dark an’ slimy settled in my stomach. Tried not t’ t’ink of other families, other lives. Normal people. Grandfather Jaques always used t’ say dat de life o’ a t’ief was a colorful one. Sitting at his knee, I’d lapped it up. Didn’t realize dat de colors were black and blue. Scared me t’ realize at dat moment I’d have traded de whole family t’ be sitting in De Hideout watching de bikers fight de goths, taking bets on de outcome. I wanted t’ be back in de Café du Monde wit’ a mug o’ chicory coffee, a beignet and de paper. I wanted de most tragic tin’g in my life t’ be coffee rings across de sports section.

Under me, de Pig started t’ move. What had we gotten into?

 

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