Chapter 8
As they entered the lobby, Jeffrey laughing as he turned to lock the door, Nica felt stunned. Her blood had turned to ice, her head immediately spinning in several directions, she felt as though the wind had been knocked violently from her lungs as Jeffrey delivered this huge bombshell. He turned, ring of keys in hand and let his gaze fall on a clearly disturbed Nica. His laughter subsided as a more serious look appeared on his face, Jeffrey realising how much of a shock this must be to Nica, an outsider with hardly any knowledge of his brotherhood.
"Miss Pirce," He began. "Allow me to apologise. I could have handled that better. I'm sorry."
Nica's head snapped up as she suddenly realised she was being spoken to.
"I'm... I'm sorry?" She stuttered. "What did you just say?"
"I apologise Miss Pirce." He repeated. "I can see how that would come as something of a shock to you."
Nica shook her head, still taking in this gigantic revelation.
"No." She muttered. "It's not possible. John Bishop died."
Jeffrey took two steps towards Nica and gently lowered himself to one knee, softly grabbing her wrists, delicately resting on the arms of her wheelchair. As he grabbed her, she stopped shaking her head, instead looking into Jeffrey's eyes, deep, dark brown and honest.
"Miss Pirce, you have seen many things this last six months." He spoke calmly. "Your family, your house, Green Acre... Even afterwards, the attack on you at your home in San Diego. Yet still you fail to grasp exactly what the power of Damballa can do? What wondrous abilities true believers are capable of?"
Nica stared, lost in her own thoughts as Jeffrey continued.
"I cannot tell you everything. That is not my job, I was only asked to track you down, follow you and fetch you to my superiors. They are the ones with the answers, they are also the ones that know where we go from here."
With that Jeffrey released Nica's wrists and stood, Nica's eyes following him as he approached another door, tall, wide and arched. Flicking through the keys on his key ring, Jeffrey finally settled on the biggest of the bunch, a skeleton key, something like a prop from a Frankenstein movie. As he slid the huge, rusty key into the old lock and turned, the sound of the mechanism echoed around the entrance of the building, the long labouring, yet highly satisfying click indicating the door had unlocked, mystery awaiting Nica just feet away on the other side. As Jeffrey pushed the huge wooden door open, he gestured, waving to Nica to follow him, to make her way through, which she did, slowly, her energy severely depleted. On the other side sat the largest room Nica had ever seen. Round, and immaculately decorated, the high ceiling adorned with chandeliers, chains and various carvings. As Nica looked around the walls, swinging from her left and following the circular shape of the room until it landed back on her right hand side, she noticed the tapestry leaping from the dull, wooden panels, a strip of vibrant colour in a sea of lacquered mahogany. The tapestry began to Nica's left and depicted the birth of a child, born from woman, still in the foetal position. Nica followed the tapestry, taking in the story, well told through the detailed and incredibly life like stitching. The next section showed the baby had started to grow, a small boy, setting off on a walk, a stick in one hand and a ragged, cow hide bag slung over one shoulder. Following this was a section dedicated to the life of this baby as it reached manhood, looking rough and tired, wandering the earth and meeting various people, joining up with the next section depicting the man helping people, placing his hands and healing random villagers. After this Nica could see the man now bathed in light, a golden glow from above, as several people were placed around him, praying on their hands and knees, clearly worshipping the man for the good he had brought. As Nica kept slowly turning her head, she flinched at the next bit, fighting had broken out, the man and his people caught in the throngs of battle as the white visitors over powered them, the man now in the next section nailed to a stake, burning alive, something leaping from his body as lightning flashed overhead. Nica took this to be the soul leaving the body, the tiny blue orb coming to a stop on Nica's right, the tapestry now finishing as it reached the 360 degrees of the room, starting afresh with the new born baby and beginning the events all over again, signifying the infinite spirit of Damballa. She was shaken from her concentration as Jeffrey softly lay a hand on her shoulder, Nica turning to look up, seeing that he too was enthralled in the rich art on offer.
"Beautiful isn't it?" He asked without taking his eyes from the tapestry, the light bouncing from his bald head.
"It is indeed." Nica answered, returning her eyes to the tapestry. "Do I take this to be the path of Damballa? Beginning so innocently, ending so violently, only to immediately begin again? Some kind of reincarnation?"
"You could look at it like that." He replied turning to acknowledge her. "But I prefer to think that could be anybody. That is how life is. Born, explore, help, fight, die, then repeat. That is the way we have been raised, and the way we will raise our own."
"I see." Nica replied, her voice a whisper.
All of a sudden, there was a noise. Another lock in another door, way across the huge room, swinging open, the man stepping through dwarfed by the gigantic solid mahogany door as he stepped through the doorway and into the room, hurriedly walking, making his way to Jeffrey and Nica. From Nica's first impression, she put the man to be in his mid-sixties, around that anyway. His grey, exceedingly short hair adorned his face and his chin, the stubble allowed to grown over the course of a few days. The man, like Jeffrey was well turned out, sharp suit, sensible shoes, and impeccable manners as he reached out to Nica, grabbing her hand and giving it a firm shake.
"Miss Pirce." He beamed, his enthusiasm obvious.
"Please..." She started, the old man instantly interrupting.
"Call you Nica?" He laughed, Nica's eyes opening in shock. "Don't worry, I can't read minds. That was just a lucky guess."
"Mr Dolucca." Jeffrey turned to his elder. "Is this really the time for humour?"
"Oh come now Jeffrey." He looked to him, smiling even more before turning back to Nica, still shaking her hand, realising and immediately letting go. "Nica, my name is Vincent Dolucca. Welcome to the Brotherhood of Damballa. The Chicago branch, if you will. Simply one of thousands placed around the world, such is the vast outreach of Damballa."
"Thank you." She replied, turning her head to acknowledge the tapestry. "I have to say, from the street, this didn't look like much of a church."
Vincent threw his fist to his lips, his index finger extended in a shushing manner.
"Nica, please." He smiled. "We try not to use that word here. True, we don't look like the first place people would come and worship their beloved deity, but believe me, there is reason enough for that."
"Which is?" Nica seemed confused.
"Why bring attention to something lambasted by what many believe to be superior, more agreeable religions?" He answered.
"I don't think I understand." Nica was definitely confused now.
"For centuries, Christianity and Catholicism have worked hard to bury our god, our religion, even our way of life. If they knew where we were, what we did, they would act swiftly. Fend off the competition as it were." His smile seemed to grow as he finished, turning to Nica in a friendly manner.
"They don't appreciate you?" She asked.
"It is that they are afraid more than anything." Vincent replied instantly.
"Afraid?" Nica seemed amazed. "Of what?"
"Unlike these more mainstream religions, the ones that people read a bit about, fairy stories mainly, then pick which bits they will follow, which are taken out of context. Our religion has something to offer modern day followers that theirs sadly does not." Jeffrey smugly finished his sentence, the smile never once leaving his face.
"Which is?" Nica asked, waiting for the impending answer.
"Would you agree that what you have seen, heard and felt during this last six months to be something of a miraculous nature Miss Pirce? The swapping of the soul from one body to another, so simple, so quick?"
Nica sat and thought, the words making perfect sense.
"Well yes." She answered, her head nodding slightly. "Yes I would."
"And when was the last time you saw a modern day miracle from the Catholics?" He asked. "When the Pope dies, it takes a full room of clergy to come to a decision, sometimes taking days, weeks even. Where is the miracle in that?"
Nica sat stunned.
"Or the Virgin Mary?" He carried on. "Do people really believe a story about God impregnating this woman over the far more rational explanation that she simply lay with another man? Absolute poppycock." Vincent spat.
"But if that's your reaction, then how do you explain your God?" Nica asked. "Don't get me wrong, I agree with everything you've just said. My family left the church many years ago. All except my sister, and a lot of good that did her!"
"You ask me where the proof of my God is?" He asked. "Did you not feel the proof of my God as it allowed the soul of that... That... Outsider... To manipulate a child's play thing, bringing your life to a complete and sudden standstill?" He stared at Nica.
Nica sat there, slack jawed, Vincent's words landing like a right hook. Slowly, she began to nod her head, realising everything he said was correct. Vincent carried on.
"No Miss Pirce, make no mistake if the Christian and Catholic church had their way, we would be wiped from the face of the earth, forever, such is their fear that they may be found out for the phoneys that they truly are." Vincent finally finished as he placed his hands behind his back and stood by Nica's side.
In the uncomfortable silence, Nica looked up, looking for a way to get the conversation back on to a more agreeable topic. Taking another look at the tapestry lining the wall, Nica spoke.
"This is really something." She nodded to the art.
"Isn't it?" He agreed, turning to look also. "It always makes me proud, to look on this work of art. Can you imagine the years, the work, the sweat and blood that went into this tapestry? It must have taken decades, easily."
"I can imagine." Nica nodded.
Vincent suddenly clapped his hands together, turning back to Nica.
"Well Miss Pirce," He began. "May I be the first to apologise about the recent events in your life, caused by the troubled soul that seeks to menace and bring the name of Damballa into disrepute."
"You mean Charles Lee Ray?" Nica's tone turned stiff and serious.
"Indeed I do. I can understand immediately why you may have misgivings about me and my brethren, but believe me, we can help each other immensely right now, hopefully be rid of the evil entity for good."
"But how?" Nica asked. "I don't understand, how can I help? What plans do you have for dealing with him?"
"For dealing with him?" Vincent laughed a little as he spoke. "We don't have any plans for dealing with him, for it cannot be 'us' that deals with him. All we can do is simply try and put the manipulator of Damballa's powers back on the path he was so suddenly taken from so many years ago."
"Meaning?" Nica asked. "If you can't kill him? Then who can?"
"That, Miss Pirce, is something you will have to realise for yourself." Vincent spoke quickly, as Jeffrey stood behind her, arms folded across his barrel like chest.
"I will?" She asked again. "But how?"
"You will know the answer, when the time is right, it will come to you." Vincent replied. "But there are two rules for the manipulator, in this case, our mutual friend Mr Ray. The first rule, he can be killed, this is true. By anybody too, this is also true. Once inside the doll he started to become human, his soul attaching to the form it was manipulating and becoming one. A simple knife or bullet through the heart would do the trick. Now this is all well and good, but as we have seen time and again, Mr Ray has a rather nasty habit of reappearing later down the line, his soul still lingering on. The person you have to think of, is the one that may ultimately rid us of this demonic pest. I mean for good. The end. Send his soul back to Damballa, who is waiting with bated breath. This person I speak of, is the first person that Charles Lee Ray first decided to confide in that he had passed his soul into the doll, binding them together, no matter the distance, until one of two outcomes is reached."
"What outcomes?" Nica asked.
"The outcome is either that the soul of Charles Lee Ray be slain, finally silenced, arriving for his judgment at the hands of Damballa. The other is not as pleasant." Vincent seemed hesitant.
"But what is it?" Nica begged.
"The second outcome is that Charles Lee Ray gain the upper hand and successfully transfer his twisted, evil soul into this same person. The only person that is a match, that the soul will join with."
Nica shook her head.
"No." She snapped. "That isn't true. If that was true then how did he manage to do what he did to David?"
Vincent gave a wry smile as he looked over Nica's head to Jeffrey, then back to Nica.
"Ah yes. Mr Jacobs." His voice was a whisper. "And what condition was Mr Jacobs in when you last laid eyes on him?"
"Well..." Nica stammered.
"I'll tell you what condition he was in Nica. He was falling apart. The body decomposing, not accepting the soul of another, rotting from the inside out." Vincent seemed to take delight in pointing this out to her. "In other words Nica, his very soul was dying, refusing to bond with the host. True, using the Heart of Damballa, an amulet found among Damballa's possessions all those years ago, the trickster can enter anybody he sees fit. However, with an organic body, this is only temporary."
"Well if that's the way it works then can we not just leave him?" She asked. "The last time I saw him he looked like he could drop dead at any minute. I wouldn't even be surprised if he'd died already."
"Alas no." Jeffrey interrupted. Nica turned, looking backwards and up into Jeffrey's face.
"Jeffrey is right." Vincent answered. "Not long after you visited him in that home for the insane, he had another visitor. She gave him the means, and alas, Charles Lee Ray is now back in a more familiar, more healthy state than when you last saw him."
"Is he back in the doll?" Nica asked, her world suddenly shaken, her worst fears coming true.
"Indeed he is. Aided and abetted by the same woman that dragged him from Damballa's path so many years ago." Vincent answered
"This woman. This path. What are you talking about?" Nica spat, her fury beginning to vent.
"Damballa had everything marked out for Mr Ray at one point, his soul brought ever nearer, until one day, 1998 I believe?" Vincent turned to Jeffrey, who in turn nodded, his face like stone. "Anyhow, a woman, blonde hair, answers to the name of Tiffany, snatches him from Damballa's grasp, interfering in a well laid plan. Since then, we have been very limited in chances to restore order to Damballa's plan."
"Tiffany?" Nica whispered. "So that's her name?"
"Yes." A voice barked behind Nica and Jeffrey, making the two of them jump suddenly. As they both turned on the spot, Nica found them to be in the presence of a young Caribbean gentleman, about the same age as Nica. As he stood, his black robes hanging from his shoulders, flowing out along the floor behind him, his sun glasses hiding his eyes, Vincent spoke up.
"Miss Pirce." He joyfully placed a hand on her shoulder as he joined her and Jeffrey. "Let me introduce Samuel Adebola..."
Nica looked at Vincent, a look of bewilderment on her face. Vincent, sensing much confusion spoke again.
"Or as you may know him... John Bishop."
Nica sat in her wheelchair, dazed, her jaw hanging open at this latest revelation. How could the man before her be the legendary John Bishop? Nothing seemed to be making sense anymore, it was as though she'd fallen into some living nightmare, the world around her distorting and turning itself upside down, inside out, over and over again. As she looked at the man standing before her, Vincent left her side, stepping forward and shaking John's hand.
"My friend," He started. "Thank you for coming at such short notice."
"Never thank me, for contributing to such a worthy cause." John replied with a smile. "Especially one which is all down to me in the first place my brother."
As he relinquished his grip on Vincent's hand, he turned to Nica, still sat open mouthed in her wheel chair. Taking a step forward he removed his glasses, Nica finally seeing the eyes of the man before her, astonished at how old they looked compared to the rest of his body. His eyes had more than a sprinkling of wisdom, experience, a look that said 'I've been here before.' Sinking to his knee, he grabbed Nica's hand and curled it into a fist, embracing it and lifting it to his mouth, softly kissing it.
"Miss Pirce," He began. "Allow me to apologise. If it weren't for me... This whole scenario would not be playing out around us right now."
"You're the one?" Nica asked. "You're the one, John Bishop? That taught these secrets of your brothers to Charles Lee Ray?"
"Indeed I am." He placed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose as he stood back up, letting go of Nica's hand. "Not my proudest moment, but I thought he was a friend. Had I known his true character, his intentions, then believe me Miss Pirce, I would not ever have entertained such a man."
Nica shook her head, a smile appearing as she closed her eyes.
"No." She said. "John Bishop was in his late forties when he died. That was twenty five years ago, John Bishop, had he lived would have been approaching his mid-seventies now. You're how old? Early twenties?"
"Miss Pirce!" Vincent interjected, John immediately holding his hand up to silence him.
"It is a reasonable question, and I understand how this must appear Miss Pirce, believe me. For I once would have struggled to comprehend the sheer magnitude of my journey also." John calmly spoke.
"I don't get what you mean." Nica retorted, still feeling shocked and confused.
"I was born, again, just under twenty five years ago." John began, as he started to fill Nica in. "In Nigeria no less. A healthy boy, with a good family, friends, education. My life was good."
"What are you trying to..." Nica began, but John immediately carried on tlaking over her, louder than before.
"However... Around the time of my eighteenth birthday I had a dream. An epiphany, a vision if you will. There stood a man, addressing me, only I was not me. No, no, no... I was older. Let's say late forties? The man before me had terrible things to say to me, branding me a liar, a cheater, a dishonest man that should never have been trusted with such responsibilities. But this man was also gracious, offering me a chance to atone for my sins, another life in which to right my wrongs, restore dignity to his house."
"This man was Damballa?" Nica asked.
John nodded silently before continuing his story.
"Suddenly I am awake Miss Pirce, a revelation, everything making sense. I now have a great responsibility bestowed upon me, my first challenge, to leave Nigeria and arrive in America, seeking out my brothers here in Chicago. Armed with nothing but the shirt on my back and vague details of a dream, I set off out into the world, blessed with a gift from Damballa himself."
"What gift?" Nica leaned forward, trying to get her head around it all.
"The gift of vision Miss Pirce. It is not something I can call on at any time, but every now and then I will have a vision, a name, a place, an event. Like you, standing in Forest Hills Cemetery less than a week ago. With that little bit of enlightenment, I was able to give Jeffrey the perfect opportunity to track you down, follow you and see to it that we end up here tonight, together, at long last able to set things back to how they should be."
"I keep hearing that." Nica snapped. "Put things back. What exactly is all this? And why does it have to be me?"
"It doesn't have to be you." John replied. "But it is you. If you get my meaning. It could have been anybody, but fate has placed this firmly on your lap. The task of setting this abomination on the road to Damballa's intended target now in your hands, and your hands only."
"There is of course the threat to your bloodline Miss Pirce." Jeffrey interrupted. "As I said in the car, the threat is there. Nothing of concern to us, but to you it means everything, that is why it must be you."
"What threat?" Nica gasped, she had forgotten Jeffrey saying that on the way here tonight.
"The abomination is already in motion Miss Pirce." John looked at her, his hands held behind his back. "As we speak he is heading east, his intended target your very own niece."
Nica was knocked sick as the news sunk in, she felt her head dizzying as she fought to keep her composure.
"Alice?" Nica whispered to herself. "But why? How would he even know where to find her? She was so careful."
"We will discuss the why momentarily. As for the how, then it is quite simple really." John spoke as he walked past Nica slowly, Nica spinning to follow him. "After the events of Green Acre, the murders, the escaped convicts, you know. There was naturally a police investigation, letters seized from your room. The associate of Charles Lee Ray paying good money to a young officer to provide details found in these letters."
"Jesus!" Nica couldn't believe it. Her world had just come crashing down around her. Up until now, she had been comforted by the thought that Alice was safe, far from harm, hidden from any dangers. "I need to get to Aspen. As quickly as possible."
As she span from left to right, from Vincent and Jeffrey to John Bishop, she could have cried, such was her feeling of failure, her desperation to protect her little niece.
"Then Aspen you shall go." Vincent spoke as he nodded his head.
"I beg your pardon?" Nica's eyes widened.
"You must be tired Miss Pirce." Vincent carried on. "Please, follow John, have a drink of tea while we make arrangements for your trip."
"What're you going to do? Lend me your LearJet?" Nica asked, a hint of sarcasm to her voice.
As she looked at Vincent, he turned to Jeffrey, rubbing his chin with his hand, speaking with a touch of humour himself.
"Why is it, Jeffrey, that when people think of voodoo, they immediately think of a little fat woman, sat in a straw hut and sticking pins in dolls?" He turned to smile at Nica who returned the smile tenfold.
"Thank you so much." Nica placed her hand on her heart as she thanked them. Vincent turned to leave, while Jeffrey remained in the room, calling to John.
"Is there anything you require?" He asked.
"Yes." John replied. "Fetch us some tea, and send a flower girl too."
"Very well brother." Jeffrey acknowledged before turning and following Vincent from the room.
Nica turned to John, stood by a small, normal sized door, holding it open, his arm gesturing for her to follow.
"Come Miss Pirce." He beamed his huge smile. "Let's get to know each other before you leave us."
Sitting in the comfort of the private LearJet, Nica looked from the cabin window, the airport looking so much different in the dry night Chicago had to offer. With no time to head back to her hotel room, Nica had boarded the flight and was now ready for departure, her next stop Aspen, Colorado. As she rested her head against the window, she began to think of everything she had learned tonight, how far she had come in the space of less than a week when she had left San Diego with nothing but the location of Charles Lee Ray's grave and the urban legend of Chucky haunting various corners of Chicago. Her chat with John Bishop had been brief, to the point, blunt and rather disturbing, and now as she sat and remembered it, she had a feeling of dread gently washing over her as she faced up to the fact that things may never be the same again.
Reaching over the large mahogany desk, John had gently poured Nica a cup of tea, handing it to her just as there was a knock at the door.
"Come." John replied as he sat back, landing in the leather arm chair of the small office.
The door opened and in walked a young girl, no older than eleven or twelve Nica guessed. In her hands she had a medium sized cotton bag, drawstrings pulled tight around the top and keeping the bag held closed.
"Aaliyah." John greeted the girl as he leaned further back in his chair. "Please, come forward."
Aaliyah did as requested and walked into the room, approaching the table and coming to a stop besides Nica, opening her bag and holding it out as if offering it up to Nica. Looking at John, Nica nervously smiled, not sure what to do exactly.
"I don't know what you want me to do." She said, laughing a little. "Have I to...?" She motioned into the bag with her hand.
"Please." John gestured to the bag with his hand in a sweeping motion across the table. "But no looking, and only pick one."
Reaching into the bag, Nica was unsure what to expect, it was like some fairground attraction where you paid a dollar and then took a lucky dip into the bag. Feeling something in the bottom, correction, many things in the bottom, Nica was surprised how soft her hands felt brushing against the mysterious objects, gently grabbing one and withdrawing her hand. As she sat and examined the foreign object, she was surprised to see it was a flower, an orchid to be exact. A white one.
"Interesting." John whispered, narrowing his eyes.
"What?" Nica asked. "What is it?"
"Why it is a flower Miss Pirce. An orchid." He laughed.
"Obviously," She replied. "But what does it mean?"
"It means nothing Miss Pirce, not for now anyway. In the bottom of that bag are twelve orchids. Four white, like the one you have right there, another four black and the remaining four red." John explained.
"So why the different colours?" Nica asked, enquiring. "If they don't mean anything then why the different colours?"
"Oh they mean something Miss Pirce." John smiled. "One colour is for life, a celebration, a new beginning. Another colour is for death, gently, slowly creeping up and embracing when least expected. The other colour is for enlightenment, a journey about to be undertaken, experiences ready to enrich the soul."
"So which do I have?" Nica asked yet again.
"That I cannot say Miss Pirce. You have your orchid, and that is that. To tell you any more would be to play tricks with your mind. Please pick another."
Nica was taken aback, the last thing she expected, but figured it couldn't hurt, it was probably superstition above all else. Harmless, just a bit of fun. Digging her hand back in to the soft cotton bag, Nica fumbled around again, selecting carefully before withdrawing her hand and taking a look at the colour sitting there. Another white one. She turned to John, not sure what to make of this.
"Aaliyah, that will be all." He spoke softly, the young girl smiling at Nica and turning to leave. As she turned to Leave Nica made to give her the flowers back before John interrupted her. "Please Miss Pirce, they are yours to keep, you must take them with you on your trip. Everything will become clear when the moment is upon you."
"How do you mean?" She let her curiosity bubble over.
"To tell you more would be foolish." John answered. "Can I ask, do you have any idea why this abomination that we seek, this outrage against nature, would be travelling so far to see your young niece?"
"The only thing I can think of is that she's the one." Nica stared blankly at him, a stab in the dark, hopefully wielding the answer he desired.
"I would have to agree," He answered, Nica's face illuminating as she smiled. "But you are both wrong!" John spat rather abruptly.
"I am?" Nica asked. "But how?"
"Do not worry yourself," He lifted his hands in a calming manner. "Remember, this all started many years ago. It will all make sense eventually."
"I hope so," Nica replied. "Because not a lot seems to make sense any more. Don't get me wrong, you've been so kind in helping me with all this, but I feel so confused right now."
"It will all become crystal clear Miss Pirce. But do not begin to think this will be easy. For there will be sacrifices you must be prepared to make in order to keep your niece from harm. But only after you feel sure in your heart that you have succeeded, finally sent this abomination down the path Damballa intends for him."
"I'll do anything to keep Alice safe." Nica nodded as she spoke. "No matter what."
"That I am glad to hear." John smiled and folded his arms across his wiry chest. "As soon as I feel confident that this whole ordeal is over, then I will make my preparations, with my brothers here, and return to Damballa, hopefully absolved of any sins earned in my previous life."
"You mean..." Nica began, not knowing how to phrase the rest of her question.
"Yes Miss Pirce." John nodded, eyes closed. "I will have fulfilled my destiny in this shell, this empty vessel will simply be of no use to me. To carry on would make me no better than the monstrosity that mocks our mighty leader."
"I have one more question." Nica tilted her head as she addressed John.
"Oh?" John looked surprised. "I did not see this coming. No pun intended." He smiled.
"What about this woman?" Nica asked. "This Tiffany woman. What do you plan on doing with her?"
"Aah, Tiffany." A look of amusement crossed John's face. "The poor girl never was blessed with the highest of intellects. Don't get me wrong, her love for Charles Lee Ray was deep and unquestionable, but she was such a poor, deluded girl."
"So?" Nica asked again. "What will happen to her? Do you even know where she is?"
"But of course." John replied with laughter, waving his hands as if disregarding the subject. "Why we have already instructed our brothers on the west coast to act on our behalf. Ensure she never bothers us or Damballa again. You have my word, she will be dealt with. Her and the two other abominations."
Nica was shocked, disturbed by that last sentence. What did he mean? She was just about to ask, when there was another knock at the door, Jeffrey letting himself in.
"We are ready." He spoke to the two of them.
Placing his cup back on the saucer and standing, John strolled round the desk to Nica and once again lifted her hand, kissing it and looking into her eyes.
"May Damballa be with you Miss Pirce." He whispered. "Don't forget your two orchids. They are very important. And who knows, maybe we will see each other some other time. Some other place?"
With that, he let go of Nica's hand and made his way out of the room, leaving Nica and Jeffrey alone in the small office.
"Follow me Miss Pirce." Jeffrey smiled as he held the door open. "Your destiny awaits."
Now, sat on the plane as it hurtled down the runway, every crack of the tarmac under the landing gear sending a ripple of fear into Nica's body, she finally understood what she had to do.
Anything and everything to keep Alice safe.
Even that...
A few hours later, and after a hell of a long flight, Chucky was thrilled to finally feel the familiar bumping of runway under the US-X planes wheels as he finally touched down at Denver International Airport. From what he heard, it was likely going to be another four hour mountain drive up to Aspen, and that was only after the plane had been unloaded, everything scanned, x-rayed, and then finally loaded off to the sorting office. Yes, he knew he had a long wait ahead of him, but what did that matter? Nica Pirce didn't even know he'd escaped Longcroft, never mind had himself shipped up to his old 'friend' Alice. The only thing that had bothered him was the fact that he'd not been able to bring a knife due to the x-rays both in and out of the airports. This didn't worry him too much as a defence tactic, after all, he was a resourceful guy. But it meant he was trapped in here until he was finally ripped open, the unsuspecting recipient across the road from Alice and her grandmother getting more than he or she bargained for. Tiffany had looked at him like he was crazy when he suggested she mail him across the road.
"But why?" She'd asked dumbfounded. "What's the point Chucky?"
"The point is," He sarcastically turned to her as he sat in a small cardboard box of polystyrene fragments. "Do you really expect Alice, or the stupid fucking grandmother that I already tried to kill, to be over the moon when they once again receive this familiar sized box in the mail? Think about it Tiff!"
"You know what..." She'd said. "I never even thought about that."
"God damn, how the hell do you get anything done when I'm not around?" He snarled.
"Okay, you made your point." She dismissed his little outburst with a wave of her hand, lifting her shades and placing them on her nose as she looked in the hallway mirror and gave her hair a flick. She turned back to Chucky sat in the box. "Now lay down so I can tape it up. You're going to have to leave the knife too."
"What?" Chucky had seemed completely shocked. "I'm not leaving without my knife!"
"And what exactly are the security at the airport going to think when you show up on an x-ray with a knife?" She'd bent her leg slightly, her heel lifted off the floor, her head tilted slightly and her hands on her hips.
"Good point." He'd replied.
"Don't worry, somebody's going to open you when you get delivered, you just have to relax." Tiffany finished speaking as Chucky lay down, allowing her to fold the cardboard box closed over the top of him before unreeling strip after strip of tape and eventually securing the box closed.
With that, Tiffany had set off to the post office downtown, her job simple enough, send him on his way.
Off to Aspen.
And to Alice.
Nothing to worry about.
Apart from the fact that across Colorado, at the more local Aspen/Pitkin County Airport, Nica Pirce would soon be arriving.
Prepared to do anything to protect her niece.