Satan's Breath

Prologue A sinister light flashed in the darkness, glinting from a steel blade that dripped with blood. The large instrument trembled in the hand of a fourteen-year-old girl, her body feverish, her jaw rigid, her gaze distant and unseeing. A pungent odor rose on the mid-summer heat, making the night ripe with the stench of death. As she stood perfectly still, the silence gave way to Satan’s Breath, a rogue wind making a haunting sound as it blew through the cracks of a broken windowpane. Suddenly, a woman burst into the room and ran past the tattered curtain that served as a door. “Oh, God, no!” came her garbled cry when she saw the bloody knife, and the dead eyes that impaled her with their steady gaze. She grabbed the young girl who stood over the body, frozen to the spot. “Blaze,” the woman whispered, the fear and strain in her voice pushing her dangerously close to the edge. “G-Give, give me the k-knife, darlin’.” The gentle prodding of her words, the soft, patient sound of her voice tenderly worked its way through the maze of the girl’s subconscious. Slowly, her vacant, glassy gaze moved toward the knife clasped in her hand, and confusion etched her face as she focused on the slowly dripping blood. All at once her face contorted in terror and a maniacal scream ripped from her throat. She dropped the hated weapon and her aunt lunged toward her, cradling the girl to her breast. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay,” she whispered, rocking her gently in her arms. “Get off me!” the girl suddenly screamed. “Get off!” “Blaze, no!” her aunt called out. “It’s me, baby, it’s Aunt Rachel.” When the girl continued to struggle, her aunt grabbed her head and firmly turned it toward her. “Look at me, Blaze, it’s Aunt Rachel!” Finally coming out of her stupor, the girl’s cloudy eyes cleared and she fell in the woman’s arms, convulsing with sobs. The woman held her tight, rocking her back and forth. “It’s okay, baby. He’s gone, dead. He won’t bother you anymore.” With Blaze’s face buried against her aunt’s shoulder, the woman angled her gaze down at the bloody scene, and her face crumpled in a tragic frown, but she could find no pity for him. “The bastard had it comin’,” she whispered into the girl’s hair. “I shoulda done it myself long ago.” “Oh, God, Aunt Rachel,” Blaze sobbed as she looked up at her. “I-I didn’t know. What’s gonna happen now? Will I go to jail?” Her aunt churned out a gritty chuckle. “Jail? A little thing like you?” Her eyes became dark with determination. “Not if I have anything to do with it, you won’t. You did us both a favor. He was askin’ for it, the bastard.” She continued to cradle the girl, letting her cry while she made plans. Finally knowing what she had to do, she pushed her away and grabbed the tops of her arms. “Blaze! Blaze!” she yelled, shaking her. “You’re gonna have to be a big girl, you hear? Stop that cryin’ and do everything I tell you.” Blaze nodded, struggling to hold the sobs in as she wiped at her wet face. “Thank God we live so far away from town,” the woman said as she pushed Blaze aside and went to the window. “It’s darker’n the inside of a grave out there.” She glanced back at the girl. “That’s good. Means no one’ll see us.” Blaze stared at her aunt with a pleading gaze, her sobs finally bursting through. “I didn’t mean to, Aunt Rachel. I…I don’t even remember—” “I know you didn’t, baby,” the woman reassured her as she began to pace. With her thoughts tumbling around in her head, she raked her gaze over the back yard. “The dirt’s hard,” she muttered. “I’d never be able to dig down into it.” She saw the well. “It’s dry,” she whispered to herself. “Hasn’t been used in years. Nothin’ in there but spiders, snakes, and no tellin’ what else.” Still thinking, she turned and gazed at the corpse. Finally making up her mind, she moved quickly as she crossed the room and began rolling the dead body up in a bed sheet. When she had it secure, she firmly grasped one end and told Blaze to take hold of the other. Between the two of them, they pulled the heavy body across the plank floor, then out into the yard, leaving a destructive trail of bloody weeds and grass in their wake. “God, this bastard’s heavy.” Rachel grunted and groaned until she finally had him slumped over the well’s edge. Hesitating only long enough to take a breath and wipe her brow, she then heaved the lower part of his body up and toppled him over. He fell with a thud into just enough water to make a subdued splash. The woman’s piercing gaze quickly darted around while trying to cover up the telltale blood, and herd Blaze back into the house. She immediately helped her change clothes, and then led her to the other bedroom. She opened a closet and pulled out an old brown suitcase that was tearing at the seams. She filled it, then tied it with a rope, praying it would stay together long enough for the girl to get where she was going. Lugging it along with her, she turned and led Blaze into the living room where she crouched on the floor and carefully removed a loose plank from beneath a tattered old rug. She reached in and picked up a stack of bills that were covered with dust. She gave the bills a quick shake, grabbed Blaze’s hand, opened it, and pushed the money into it. Closing her hand over Blaze’s fist in a firm grasp, she urged, “There’s near on three hunnert dollars there. You keep it in a safe place, you hear? I don’t know how far it’ll take you, but—” Suddenly, her words stopped, and her eyes blazed. “—don’t you let nobody take it away from you, gal. You understand?” “Sure, but—” When she heard the girl’s promise, she gave her hands one last squeeze, then crossed to the heavy bag, picked it up, and firmly pushed it into Blaze’s arms. “Now you get outta here!” She pushed her toward the door. “Get as far away from this place as you can, and don’t you ever come back.” “No, Aunt Rachel,” Blaze sobbed, struggling, “don’t make me leave, please. I’m sorry I—” “Don’t fight me, child!” Rachel scolded while grabbing her shoulders and shaking her angrily. “You have to leave now. It’s only a matter of time before they find out you killed your uncle Ralph and they’ll come lookin’ for you. I don’t intend to set around here waitin’ for them to put you in jail, or take you to some detention home, or whatever the hell they do with kids your age.” “Then come with me, Aunt Rachel, please!” Blaze pleaded. She gave Blaze a sad smile. “I can’t, darlin’. It’s too late for me, but not for you. You go out there and give ‘em hell, hear? And don’t worry ‘bout me. I’ll be fine.” “Please don’t be mad at me, Aunt Rachel,” Blaze begged, her tears choking her. “He…I couldn’t—” Compassion filled the woman as she pulled the girl to her breast. “Honey, I ain’t mad at you for what you did. Hell, you oughtta be gettin’ a medal instead of runnin’ for your life.” She tenderly smoothed Blaze’s thick, red, flyaway hair, her trembling lips trying to smile. “Now you straighten up that pretty face of yours and go out there and show ‘em what you’re made of, okay? Besides, what’s done is done, and this is just the way it has to be, understand? There ain’t no other answer.” “Aunt Rachel,” Blaze began hesitantly, “you’re gonna tell ‘em you did it, ain’t you?” The woman’s harsh, sun-roughened face softened. “Me? Hell no. Oh, sure, I thought about it, but what good would it do? None,” she spat, “that’s what. You know how them wise-assed cops are. They got their ways, and they’d get the truth outta me sooner or later. Well, I ain’t gonna give ‘em the chance, see! And I ain’t gonna sit here and see them haul a pretty little thing like you off to some kind of home where another bastard sits waitin’ with no good on his mind. No,” she hissed, “it wouldn’t work. Besides,” she said, wiping her sweaty palms on her dress while she turned away from Blaze’s intense gaze, “I…I got somethin’ else in mind.” When Blaze didn’t move, she grabbed the girl, turned her resisting body around, and pushed her the rest of the way to the door, and opened it. “Now go,” she ordered, “forget this place ever existed!” Pushing her out into the darkness, she slammed the door hard, locked it, and leaned back against it for a moment, listening to Blaze’s frightened sobs. Rachel’s face crumpled, a rush of helpless tears flooding her eyes when she heard the girl banging on the door, and yelling. “Go, child,” she rasped, her voice lifting in a desperate growl. “Go! Satan’s Breath is not for you, baby. Get as far away from this hell hole as you can.” While the cries continued, the woman turned her head toward the gaping hole in the floor and her gaze anchored on the black cloth that was wrapped around an object that had sunk low within the shadowed cavity. Her heart thundered within her chest when she was reminded of what she had to do.