15
I don't own the characters, but they're fun to write about. Reviews are welcome-if you like it, please say so!
Vince laid his cell phone down, frowning. He'd tried calling both Duke and Prudence, but neither were answering their phone.
He settled deeper into his coat out on the porch, mulling over what he'd learned on his dig into the archives. The document that Betsy had told him about was not there.
He'd been fairly certain that they didn't have it even before he'd gone in there, which meant that Driscoll must have had hold of it. He resolved to call Hannah in the morning, to make a date to go through Ed's storage locker. If the selectman and his bunch hadn't beaten him to it already.
He recalled a time thirty years back, when Betsy and Lucy had first shown it to him.
"There, you see, Vince?" Betsy said. "They were all a part of the pact to frame Prudence Stillwater, the Hallecks, the Knolls, and the Driscombs."
"But why frame an innocent woman?" he questioned.
"Maybe when we find her, we can ask her that," Lucy replied, tossing her long dark hair over her shoulder. "According to Amos Flagg's journal, Prudence couldn't die. No matter what they did to her, she always revived."
"So you two think that she's still alive at the bottom of the sea," Vince said dubiously. "Even if that is true, what could be gained by finding her?"
"Maybe she knows how to end the Troubles," Lucy pointed out. "If she can, we need to locate her-and soon," she finished nervously. The Hunter was only two weeks away, Vince knew. And when it came-Lucy would be gone, just as Sarah had been gone twenty-eight years ago.
Garland leaned against the corner filing cabinet, smoking a cigarette next to Dave, who was doing the same, having their own conversation.
Dave knew Lucy's imminent departure was weighing heavily on Garland's mind. They shared a bond, he and Lucy. It wasn't love, exactly; but he cared for her as much as he did for Gwen, his wife, and their boy.
"She's my partner," he would say. "She may not be a real cop, but I'd sooner have Lucy watching my back before anybody else."
"You talk with Simon about the map?" Dave asked him.
"No. I told Lucy we shouldn't have anything more to do with him," Garland answered sharply. "She still thinks he can help. I told her best to just leave him be."
His eyes traveled over to Lucy. "She's doin' it more for his kid than anything else," he uttered. "Kid might be a brat, but he deserves better than to have to grow up with his family's legacy hanging over his head, having to-" he broke off, stubbing out his cigarette. "Anyway, it's just a legend about old Prue Stillwater, right?" he half-grinned.
"Yeah, sure," Dave grinned halfheartedly.
"Would you talk to Simon about possibly doing a dredge, to see if we could at least locate Prudence's coffin?" Lucy asked Vince.
"I don't know," Vince said slowly. "We've-come to a fork in the road in our friendship. He's changed."
"I've noticed," Lucy replied curtly. "What's happened to him? He and Garland were friends; now they can barely stand to be in a room with each other. He didn't used to be like that."
Vince did not have the heart to tell her that he knew what had happened to Simon Crocker. That he'd activated his Trouble, in order to try to spare his wife's family the horror of their own Trouble. But like so many Crockers before him, the lure of the high he experienced from the blood rush proved to be too much for him; and now Simon was on the Guard's Most Wanted list. He'd failed not only Simon, but his wife as well. Too horrified by what he'd done, she'd packed and gone, taking their little girl with her.
The situation was made even worse now that Simon seemed to be working with Reverend Driscoll, the religious zealot who'd come to Haven six months ago. Angry and embittered from the first, he became even worse after the death of his wife, and once he'd found out what Simon could do with his Trouble, he'd wasted no time in recruiting him to their side. He saw the Troubled as cursed, brought upon themselves by their own actions.
"I'll talk to him, Lucy," Vince said, putting a hand on Lucy's shoulder. God, she was so much like Sarah, those penetrating blue eyes looking back at him, he wanted to tell her so much of who she once was, but he couldn't.
"Vince!" Dave yelled, startling Vince out of his reverie.
"What, Dave?" he asked irritably.
"Did you get ahold of Duke and Prudence?"
"No," Vince said. "Neither of them's picking up the phone."
"You think maybe we should go over and see about them?" Dave asked. "I know Dwight's got people watching over them, but you know with a Trouble like hers-"
"I'm well aware of Prudence's abilities, and you're right, it makes her exceedingly valuable to the Guard," Vince told him. "But for now, we'll wait to see if Duke calls us back in the next hour or so. If he doesn't, then we'll go over there."
Duke looked around him. The Haven he knew was gone, and in its place was a village. It was more of a settlement than a village at that time, with muddy streets and wooden houses with thatched rooftops.
Everywhere, people were dressed in clothes like he'd seen on the Pilgrims-tall black broad-brimmed hats on the men, the women daintily holding up their skirts as they tried to navigate their way through the mud as they marketed, gossiped and did wash in the large fountain in the middle of the town square.
"Prudence," he heard a voice that sounded remarkably similar to his own call out, and he turned in the direction of it.
"God, you said I looked like him, but I didn't think it was that much like him," Duke got out. It was like watching himself in a movie, as Josiah Crocker made his way through the crowd to a different Prudence, a small boy running to greet him. Josiah scooped him up, and set him on his shoulders as he walked to meet his twin sister.
"You do resemble him greatly," Prue murmured.
"Josiah," Prudence greeted, kissing his cheek. "Samuel is getting too big for that," she scolded affectionately.
"He's still a boy. He'll be a man soon enough, let him enjoy being a child while he can," Josiah answered. He stepped closer to Prudence even as Duke and the current Prue moved toward them to hear their conversation.
"I heard that they came to see you," Josiah was saying. "Did they-harm you, like they have others?"
"No, I was not harmed," the past Prudence said. "And even if they did, there is nothing they can do to me to make me tell. That must remain secret, Josiah," she urged. "Promise me no matter what, you must remain silent."
"I give you my word, Prue," Josiah said, his hand in hers. "No matter what may come."
Out of the corner of his eye, Duke spotted movement in a cluster of men coming out of the tavern, and he recognized one of them.
"William," he gasped.
"These are only images of the past," Prue reminded him. "We can neither be seen or heard."
There was another man talking to another group of men, dressed in a black robe with a stiff white collar. He had white hair, and a hard, florid face.
"That is Amos Flagg," Prudence replied in his ear. Her eyes turned back to the man who'd been her brother and her son and daughter, who had joined them by now, a sad smile on her face.
Duke saw William spot Prudence, and he stepped through the crowd and onto the village green.
"Prudence Stillwater!" he shouted.
The town square fell dead silent.
"Prudence Stillwater, I accuse you of practicing witchcraft, of being in league with the Prince of Darkness!" William shouted at the top of his lungs.
For a moment, there was silence; and then loud mumbling broke out.
"You are a liar most foul, sir!" Josiah said sharply. "If her husband does not demand it, then you will give me satisfaction for that accusation!"
The man Prue had told him was Amos Flagg stepped forward.
"That is a most serious allegation, sir," he said in a deep rumbling voice. "Can you prove it?"
"I can indeed, Reverend," William stated. He drew out a pistol, and cocking the hammer, aimed it directly at Prudence.
"No!" Josiah cried out as William fired the pistol.
The Prudence of this time fell backward, the shot hitting her directly in the heart as women and children screamed, and the men with William seized him. Prue fell to the ground, the front of her dress soaked with blood. She couldn't possibly have survived the shot, Duke knew.
"You will hang for murder, sir!" one man said.
Josiah had gathered Prue in his arms, holding her closely as a blonde-haired man ran up to them, kneeling down next to them. Duke was surprised to see that Daniel bore a strong resemblance to Officer Stan down at Haven PD, and he wondered if they might be related.
"Prudence-dearest," he said brokenly.
"Take the children away, Daniel," Josiah told him, still holding Prue's body in his arms. "Don't let them see their mother like this."
Daniel pulled his hysterical daughter and crying son close to him, as more people grabbed hold of William.
Duke spotted Mara also in the crowd, her face hidden beneath a large straw hat, but he could see her smile even from here as she and William's little drama they had arranged played out.
"Wait-just wait!" William was shouting. "You will see in a moment that I am right!"
In Josiah's arms, Duke could see Prudence stir.
"Sh, sh, lie still, dear heart. You are seriously hurt," Josiah soothed.
"Examine her," William called out. "You will see there is no wound. She has made a pact with the devil to prevent her from dying!"
By now another man Duke surmised to be the doctor approached, along with Reverend Flagg.
"Let me see her," the doctor urged, and Josiah eased Prudence to the ground.
Duke could see the fear in past Prue's eyes as she had begun to realize that William was right-that there was no longer a wound in her chest where her heart was located.
"Bring water," the doctor said, and a woman set a wooden pail with a rag in it next to him.
He washed the front of Prudence's bodice, his face growing more horrified as he realized that William was right.
"There is no wound," he said. "There is blood, but there is no longer a wound."
"What?" Josiah gasped.
Amos Flagg's face hardened as he looked down at Prudence.
"Mistress Stillwater," he began. "You have been accused of witchery. I would say that this gentleman has offered us ample proof of it."
"No!" Josiah protested, but it was too late. The murmurs of 'witch' had already begun to spread through the crowd, and Prudence was hauled to her feet unceremoniously as the crowd began to shriek, "Witch! Witch!"
The images shifted before their eyes, and now it was nightfall, and Duke could see Prudence, her head and hands cruelly locked in a pillory, as her brother Josiah crept silently to her, offering her a cup to her lips.
"Go home, Josiah," Prudence was saying weakly. "You should not be here-you should be abed, resting."
Josiah coughed weakly, and Duke realized he was sick. There were fever blisters around his mouth, and he wondered if Josiah had that fever that Daryl had caused a few months ago back in Haven before Mara had stabbed him.
"Should you be doing that, Master Crocker?" he heard an all-too-familiar voice call out, and Duke turned to see Mara strolling towards them. "You may find yourself in the pillory next to your sister for giving her aid."
"Leave her be," Josiah threatened. "Have you not caused enough misery and pain?"
"All she has to do is to give me what I want, and all this will stop," Mara replied. "So what say you, Prudence?"
"I know what you want-and my answer remains no," the pilloried Prue said.
Mara drew closer, smirking that evil little leer she had.
"It will only get worse," she said in a low voice. "Until you give me what I'm after, I will continue to inflict curse after curse on these people. If you care so much for them, you will make it stop, right now."
"No," Prudence said stubbornly. "Do thy worst, witch. You'll not have it-not now, not ever."
"As you wish," Mara taunted, and sauntered away.
The scene changed once more, this time to a courtroom, where Prue stood in chains as sentence was pronounced.
She was led out of the jail and onto a gallows, where once again, Duke saw that Prue was right; she could not die. He witnessed what followed next, as the town tried to execute her repeatedly, and his heart ached for her.
"No wonder you hate Audrey so," he said.
"It is not Audrey that I hate," Prue spoke.
The scene changed once more, to a dimly lit jail cell, where he saw Prue, still in chains, sitting on a cot.
"Prudence," he heard from the door, and looked to see Charlotte, along with an African-American man, and with a shock, Duke recognized him as Agent Howard!
"Charlotte," the jailed Prue said, shuffling in her chains toward the door.
Charlotte's eyes brimmed with tears.
"I'm so sorry," she said softly. "I wish there were more I could do for you. But my hands are tied."
"You made a valiant effort," Prudence replied. "But the doorway remains secret with me. Josiah is dead. My husband has forsaken me and our children," she continued. "I could not stop her and her companion. But the doorway shall remain forever closed." She closed her eyes. "Perhaps this time when they try to murder me, they will be successful."
"I'm sorry that I couldn't help you," Charlotte answered. "But we are going to set things right in Haven. Starting tonight. Mara will be made to see the error of her ways."
"I do not think she will listen to reason," Prudence said. "She is quite mad."
"It is not madness; I think it is aether poisoning."
"I am unfamiliar with that alkaline, Charlotte."
"No, you wouldn't know it," Charlotte half-smiled. "It comes from somewhere far away. The substance she uses to cause the afflictions she creates has affected her mind-just as hatters are affected by the substances they use," she continued, referring to the fact that hat makers of Prue's time often used mercury in the making of hats, which caused madness after prolonged exposure.
"But Charlotte and I have a solution in mind. Mara will be made to understand. And William shall be brought to bear as well," the man Duke knew as Agent Howard assured her. He studied her a moment, and then touched Prue's hand. "You are a brave woman, Mistress Stillwater. Perhaps our paths may cross again someday."
"The Barn," Duke uttered. "This must have been when Charlotte and Howard created the Barn!"
The scene disappeared into a whirling vortex of smoke and Duke once again found himself sitting opposite Prudence, back in their own time once more.
He was drenched with sweat, and could see that Prue was the same, her hair damp around her face. He glanced at his phone and realized they'd been there the better part of two hours!
"You saw all that occurred," she gasped, both of them struggling to rise, their legs long asleep. "What was this barn that you spoke of?"
"Charlotte and Howard created a barn-but it wasn't actually a barn, it was like an inter-dimensional jail cell," Duke explained. "They made Mara forget who she was. And when she came out of the Barn 27 years later, she would help the Troubled, until it was time for her to go back into it. That's how Charlotte's been trying to cure the Troubles for the last 500 years. Every twenty-seven years, Mara would come out as a new person, to help resolve the Troubles. But it got all screwed up," he finished.
"Someone interfered," Prue spoke.
"Vince and Dave tell you that?"
"No one needed to tell me. I have seen the way you and your tall friend Nathaniel defend and care for her. It was you and he that interfered with the cycle, was it not?"
"No! Well-uh, well, yeah," Duke said. "And we've been trying to set things right ever since."
Prue nodded.
"Then perhaps Charlotte and Audrey and myself can find a way," she said simply. "But it must end, great-grandson. One way or another, it must end, and I will take any measure I have to."
Duke could see by her expression that Prue meant every word of it. But before he could answer, his phone lit up, and he grabbed at it, glad for the distraction.
"Vince," he said, relieved.
"Are you and Prudence all right? We've tried to call for hours," Vince scolded on the other end.
"Yeah," Duke sighed. "We're-all right. For now, anyway."
But for how much longer?