19 months.(a long overdue continuance of events started in "Hey soul sista, mind twister " http://www.mooncalfstudios.com/pathofth ... =14&t=8394 ) This tale takes place in aprox mid Nov 2013.
A long time, a blink of an eye, whatever one wanted to call it.
19 months since the girl and her friend Lorette took a trip to the deep south one night. A place where the 'good ol boys' lived and did whatever they wanted under the protection and blessings of the local sheriff. A town herself and her tribe visited years before that. Before she was turned.
Blood was spilled 19 months ago. The girl knew where to look on the net to find the details of that trip. Three 'respected' members of the community, a retired sheriff and the current one (then) all found dead. The articles left out the condition of the bodies, of course. Years of pent up rage, hatred, shame, and release was let loose that night with a screaming vampiress and a length of lead pipe as its instrument of vengeance. Lorette helped, of course, but this trip had mainly been to help her friend. She had help corner and locate the men, but acted as back up for Zodiac as she confronted her past. It was something she had come to terms with. They were there and she was safe in the cold of Canada. Lorette would have no part of letting her hide away like that.
That part of her past was finally dead. Beaten into the dust with lead.
The local authorities had nothing to work with. The deaths were still considered unsolved. The pair of vampires had covered their tracks well that night. A hint of a strange person being seen. A bar crowd saying one of the gypsies who used to come to town had shown up, but which one they could not say. A female-yes, but details were vague. Gypsies were like other minorities at times. They all looked alike. Behind that bar was were the first body had been found. A man in the crowd, perhaps the only one who could have told the investigating team who they were looking for, had followed her outside as she had hoped his arrogance would make him do.
Once she heard the bones breaking from the first blow, it had gotten easy. Too easy. She was a screaming wraith then. Half in pure primal delight while the other half cried and wanted to hide. She could remember how she was when she found Lorette afterwards. Laughing and crying all at once.
The others died just as badly. Lorette helped.
She missed her.
The reflex fear had eased back finally. Occasionally flashes of the past haunted her, but not so often now. That mountain she had carried on her back since she was 16 was finally crumbling and dropping to the side of the road for her.
One mountain down, one to go.
She turned in her chair and looked at a map framed on the wall of the upstairs in Pandora's A few visitors had commented on it before, but she always found a way to deflect the questions and lead them to another point in the conversation. It was a project she had begun over a year ago. Hints and clues, and letters, e-mails, postcards from the few she still knew was out there acted like guideposts. The postmarks saying where and when. The map was covered with criss crossings of colored thread. In spots. small pushpin flags with dates on them marked where the travelers had stopped and set up camps. Actually, this was a continuation of a game her friend Mary and her had played as children. Where have we been and where are we going? They had maps as well where they kept track of the places they had been to and when.
But the map on the wall served a darker purpose for the mystic. Her gypsies were like birds. They followed patterns at times in their travels. Only breaking those patterns if things went wrong somewhere along the way. Between the remains of those childhood maps she had and the new information she gathered she had a complex view of their movements and several times she had predicted properly where they would journey to next.
It was fall now. The tribe would be aiming for border to settle in Mexico for the winter soon. She might be a day or two early, but she could guess where they would camp before making the last push south for the winter. The same place they always had in the past. One mountain remained on her back now and she knew where it would be waiting for her.
"Maaaaa-errrrrr." she forced the word from her own lips. Her mountain. Her biological mother-Amanda Ferenczy
(TBC)