Spirit-Mother:

Redemption

Swamp Song Book 3

By

A. D. Roland

Spirit-Mother: Redemption

© 2008 A. D. Roland

ISBN-13:

978-1511423410 

ISBN-10:

1511423412 

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

Other books by A. D. Roland

Wraithborne

A Year of You

Dark Consort

Other books in the Swamp Song series:

Swamp Baby

Spirit-Mother: Devotion

Chapter One

Although Xade's gut demanded he ditch the others and haul ass to the swamp, he didn't argue when Derry suggested they find some place to sleep before heading for Hertley. He told them about a dog he'd seen come back to life, even as it was being eaten, and about the doctor that he'd known all his life that had tried to kill him.

He told them about the old man, Broken Drum, who was being kept alive and systematically butchered for who-knew-what reason.

You wouldn't happen to know his real name, would you? Xade asked on a hunch. Uh, Tim something, I think. I only heard it like once or twice when I was a kid.

Dreck. He brought Michael to Hertley, then, after our parents died. He used to he our parents' best friend.

You think? Michael never had anything to do with him. He hated him, actually. Suwannee loved old Drum to death, even let him live on her land.

It was getting dark outside. They hadn't seen another sane living soul in an hour. Derry said, There's no safe place near Hertley. There's a hotel and a truck stop about 30 minutes down the road. I think we should stop there.

The others in the car murmured in agreement.

Xade's heart raced at the prospect of stepping into the swamp. A river he'd never seen sang in his blood. He rolled down his window and sucked in a deep breath of the cool air rushing in.

Instead of being refreshing, the air left an oily taste and consistency in his mouth. He grimaced and rolled the window back up. Rosie's head lolled against his shoulder, limp and heavy.

Something's up with the sky, Carrie commented.

I thought that was the point, Cole retorted from the front seat.

Before Carrie could respond, Xade craned his neck to see out the windows. True enough, inky strands of black smoke laced through the fluffy white clouds, staining the bright blue sky.

Is it smoke? Derry asked.

I don't smell it. If it's that dark, then we'd definitely smell it. Xade rolled the window down and sniffed the air that rushed in. There's a weird smell.

Like burnt meat or something, maybe, Cole said. Much to everyone's relief, she had one of Derry's baseball hats pulled low over her forehead. Whatever had happened to her was horrifying and disgusting, but he, for one, wasn't real fond of looking at her bloody, saggy eyelids. Even when she wasn't crying, thick, weird blood ran down her cheeks. She had a couple of Derry's shirts in her lap, one soaked with blood, and the other on its way there.

"Yeah, sort of. No, more like the smell of the grease in the bottom of a frying pan after its gotten cold." Derry slowed down to avoid a pair of wrecked cars that sat in the middle of the road. Xade squinted hard, trying to see inside either vehicle.

Nearly everyone they had come across were either terrified of them or trying to kill them. The one town they passed through had been abandoned, save for the gangs of violent apocalypse-loving idiots who thought they could chase down a speeding car, and the gangs of flesh-hungry crazies who thought the same thing. From then on, Deny and Xade both agreed that avoiding the more populated areas would be the wisest thing to do.

After a short debate, Derry drove on to the interstate. This will get us to Hertley a lot quicker than taking the surface roads. Plus that motel I told you about is right off the exit.

The radio only played static. Once in a while they caught a faint voice on the AM stations. Cole checked the dials every few minutes.

The interstate was silent and still. Cars, some crumpled and destroyed, others intact, some even running, littered the lanes.

Xade stared at all the cars, an idea forming. The little Honda was old and cramped and smelled of age and overuse. The scent of French fries and too-strong air freshener was overwhelming, even with the air conditioner on. Yo, Derry.

Yeah?

Why don't we borrow one of these cars?

Derry frowned into the rearview mirror. Steal a car?

Nah. Borrow. When it's all over, we just leave it in a parking lot and if the owner isn't chomping down on somebody else, he can come pick it up. Look, we can grab one of those big SUVs. Look, there's even a Hummer! Nobody's inside. Nobody's even around.

I don't know. How do we know they're just not up the road looking at something?

Xade smirked. Yeah. Hundreds of people have gotten out of their cars, left them running, walked away from some pretty nasty accidents, to look at something. Dude, if you don't want to, let us out and we'll grab one.

Derry took his time pulling over and turning the ignition off, Maybe the girls should stay in the car until we find something. Who knows what's hiding out here. Uh-uh, Carrie said. I'm not being left alone,

Cole snorted, You're not alone, Care-bear. You have me and your psycho sister.

I'm not staying here, Carrie said.

I'm going with Carrie, Rosie said. The ghosts say we have to take care of her.

Great, Derry muttered. Now we have ghosts.

Rosie popped forward, leaning between the seats. They told me about you, Derry.

Xade watched the exchange, wondering just what Rosie's ghosts had told her. Deny scowled and cocked himself in his seat so he could look back at her.

Yeah? What did they tell you?

They told me about your brother, she said, pausing. Your real brother.

Good one. I don't have a brother. And you can't spring a long-lost twin on me, either, because my parents video-taped my birth.

Rosie grinned, a small, evil thing that creeped the heck out of Xade. Michael had shown him a lot of nasty stuff, and Cole's injury just about took the cake, but nothing freaked him out like Rosie's smile.

No, silly. He was never born.

Derry gave her a sarcastic thumbs-up and opened the car door. Xade, ready? We need to get this show on the road,

Xade slid out and surveyed the dozen vehicles in easy walking distance. The woods didn't begin for several yards away from the road. The interstate was built up, so the ditch was deep. A guard rail rose about chest high. At least they were relatively safe from attack from the sides.

Carrie got out, followed by Rosie. Rosie gripped one of her sister's beltloops. Cole hesitantly rose out of the passenger seat and followed the hood of the car toward them. She kept her head down, face shielded.

Derry reached for the nearest SUV's driver side door. We should look for one with a full gas tank.

Cole shrieked suddenly and jumped toward Derry. She was several feet too far from the left, but it stopped him from opening the door.

Don't! she cried. She took a misstep and lost her balance, bouncing off the bumper of an aging hatchback. She ended up on the oily asphalt.

Derry glanced at Xade and reached for the door handle once more. The second his hand touched it, someone on the inside flung itself against the window with a bone-crunching thud. Deny yelped and jumped back.

Spittle and blood smeared the window from the inside. A head continued to smash against the window until blood ran down the glass. After a moment, the person inside slumped into the seat, still.

Dear Lord, Carrie mumbled. It's a kid. Xade pushed her a few feet back and peered into the passenger side window. The SUV was a disaster. Bits of flesh and hunks of body parts littered the interior. If he guessed right, the dead person was an adult, and the attacker a small kid. Maybe all of seven or eight years old. As he watched, the kid sat up and attacked the passenger side window. Xade jumped back instinctively.

Next, he said.

Cole tried to navigate her way through the cars, whacking her shins on the bumpers and fenders, bruising her entire body when she walked into the side of something. A hand latched on to her upper arm. She bit off a scream when Deny identified himself. How'd you know that kid was in the truck?

Cole shrugged. I just knew. I could hear it. She tucked matted strands of hair behind her ear, keeping her head down. Parts of her are still here. I see them. All in the air, in the cars, in...us.

We're not messed up like they are. Derry said, unnerved.

No. We're different. Something protected us, something that's not part of her.

Derry held up his hands to signal a pause, then remembered she couldn't see him.

Wait. When you say 'her' you mean Spirit-Mother, right?

Cole frowned and shook her head. No. I don't know anything about a Spirit-Mother.

* * * *

Carrie tugged the blood-stiffened sleeves of her shirt down lower over her palms. Looking in the windows of the minivan, she checked for occupants before popping the door open and checking for keys and a full gas tank. Score, both points!

Hey, over here! Xade was a few cars away, and Derry and Cole were deep in conversation by the guardrail. Rosie stood atop a Ford Focus, 'keeping watch'.

It kept her busy, out of trouble and out of Carrie's hair.

Carrie kept her eye on Cole. There was something about the woman that just set her on edge. From what Derry said, she was just there in the hospital. No explanation for it. She wasn't scared of anything. And how in the world had she managed to survive having her eyes ripped out? How was she so calm about it?

The bites on Carrie’s arm and neck hurt like the dickens. Thanks to all those zombie movies Xade made her watch over the years, she wondered if whatever these lunatics had was contagious. Was she going to turn into one of those things? The men were too far away.

Here! Carrie cried, waving her arms to get their attention. Xade jogged over.

He checked the car out and gave her a proud half-smile. Good job, sweetheart. I'd give you a kiss, but I don't want you to embarrass yourself in front of everyone. He winked.

It won't happen like that every time, Carrie replied, blushing.

Dang it. Xade looped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.

For the first time since he found her in the hospital she noticed his cast was no longer on his foot, and he wasn't limping! Xade, your ankle.

Xade grinned and flexed his foot. Cool, ain't it? I don't know how it happened, but my ankle feels better than it has in years. I cut the cast off back in the hospital. He gathered her close again. Despite the stink of blood that clung to them both, Carrie just wanted to be in his arms. She slipped her fingers beneath his nasty t-shirt and touched his bare back. It was the first time since getting out of the hospital she had really touched him.

He flowed into her fingertips, part of her on a cellular level. Carrie closed her eyes and leaned against his chest. Listen close, the little voice she always tried to ignore screamed through the assault of images.

Jumbled bits of this and that tangled into a huge knot that stretched up, branching out, blocking out the blue sky. Carrie heard herself cry out and felt her knees give way. Xade hung on to her, just as she dug her fingertips into his back.

She had to see.

The knot of everything stopped growing. Around her, pine trees and palmetto fronds laced together with tangles of vines and stunted saplings formed a natural fence that encircled the clearing she stood in.

A tremor raced through her as she realized she was seeing something very different from her usual clairvoyant glimpses. Instead of patches of reality woven into the tapestry of her psyche, her surroundings were complete, down to the grains of sand beneath her feet.

A hand closed on her arm, startling her. She looked over a scream on her lips.

It was just that other woman, Cole. Her eyes were in her head, in this mental world, but they were big and black, blacker than polished ebony. Red tears rimmed her eyes and ran down her face in delicate lines, not the gory splashes that marred her skin in reality.

She was so beautiful here. She was naked—both of them were naked—and her skin was white, pale as moonlight, and so translucent that the tracery of faint blue veins were visible.

Her bloody tears dripped from her jaw and fell to her breasts. The black eyes, the delicate vines of blood tracing down her body, she looked otherworldly.

Carrie's eyes traveled lower and she jerked away with a shriek. Vaguely, she felt something bump the back of her head.

Cole's belly had been ripped open, breastbone to pubis. Her insides were black, diseased, crawling with insects. Something buzzed out of the cavity and crashed into Carrie's face. Shrieking, she slapped it away.

Cole pushed the flaps of skin closed and held herself together like she was only holding a robe shut. I was scared it was me, she said, relieved. I think now it might be you. I don't see her in you yet.

What are you talking about? Carrie whimpered, backing up.

She's touched all of us, trying to find the right ones, Cole replied. She can't take us like she takes all of them.

Cole waved her hands, her belly gaping open again. All around them, faces appeared in the woods. Savage howls and shouts filled the clearing. The mouths snapped and chomped at the air. Hands clawed at the natural barrier, but nothing could get through.

Cole held herself closed