allowed herself the time.
It was nearly dark by the time she’d found out exactly where Shelly and Jacques LaValle were buried, and longer still to make it through the holiday traffic over there.
The cemetery was an above ground one, as most were in this part of the state due to heavy rains and soggy ground. The dusk created eerie shadows between the small mausoleums. Jessica walked along the path, broken shells and rock crunching under her sandals. She picked up her pace, eager to get out of the cemetery before dark.
She knew she should’ve just come back tomorrow, but she didn’t think she could wait that long.
A feeling grew in her, a warning to get out of Louisiana as fast as she could. She couldn’t explain why the feeling persisted, only that it did. Nothing had happened to her to cause it, but just the same....
Being in a cemetery didn’t help matters, and she was sure her imagination had gone into hyper mode. She’d never felt superstitious before, but there was something inherently creepy about dark cemeteries that she’d never noticed. A hush settled on the grounds, expectancy that she couldn’t quite comprehend.
There wasn’t anyone around--everyone inside had been entombed long ago, but the silence, coupled with hazy, failing sunlight worked together to give her the willies.
She shuddered and called herself names, rubbing her arms as she continued on her way, eager to get this done and be gone.
The mausoleums created a labyrinth of narrow passages, standing above her head to block her sight of other lanes and surroundings. It was almost like walking through a tunnel, except she could still see the sky. In the dark, it would probably seem more like catacombs.
Just when she’d decided to call it a night, she finally managed to locate her parents’
tomb. It was younger than it’s neighbors, like they’d lucked out and managed to procure the single remaining spot in the cemetery. A morbid thought, that, thinking of their “luck.”
Above the mausoleum stood an angel with her arms outstretched, her marble face tear stained from decades of rain.
Jessica touched the sun warmed marble, as if to assure herself it was real, that she’d actually found her parents’ final resting place. The stone was smooth, worn only slightly by time and weather. Peering closer, she could just make out the engraving on the tomb in the failing light. There was no testimony to their life together, or the child they had created. No haunting poetry. Merely their names and the date each was born and died.
Her mother had died June 2, 1978. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and looked at her father’s life date. He’d died on June 3, 1978. A sliver of fear slid down her back bone, raising her hackles. She shivered with foreboding. Her mother died the day she was born. She could understand that, that maybe she’d died in childbirth or complications arising afterward. But why had her father died the day after?
The tomb gave her no answers, only more questions. She felt more disturbed than ever before. In her heart, she knew something terrible had happened to them. She was grateful for the life she’d lived, for the love of her adoptive parents, but her life had been upset by the discovery. And now this.
Her entire life seemed a mystery, her roots hidden from her with no hint as to why.
Regret and disappointment sat heavy in her stomach.
She wondered who she really was.
Jessica desperately needed to know what had happened, but she’d run out of ideas to try and make sense of things. If this was a secret, and she knew it was, how was she to uncover it? It occurred to her that a library might possibly be a good place to start. She might even be able to learn something, pick up some clue, from the department of records.
She walked away, heading toward the exit. She was contemplating just how she was going to find out more about her parents’ death when she stepped out onto the main path and saw three men hanging around the front gate. Jessica stopped. Her heart quickened to a breathless pace. She tried to get a grip on herself, to reason that she was overreacting, but something about the way they stood there made fear prickle along her neck. There was no reason in the world why she should be afraid of a small group of men--but there it was.
They hadn’t seen her yet. She could almost breathe with that grateful thought filtering into her stricken brain. She could find another way to get out and get back to her hotel. And for all she knew, they were just three guys hanging out and having a good time.
She just wished she believed that.
Jessica slowly backed up, keeping her eyes trained on them. One step back.
Another and another. She started breathing regularly again, almost home free. Just as she’d reached the narrow, shadowy alley of one mausoleum row, they looked up as though they’d heard her mental sigh of relief, and spotted her. They grinned and straightened, moving forward like a pack of wolves, coming straight for her.
Jessica whirled and ran, her heart in her throat. She disappeared into the shadows, running over the irregular path, praying she wouldn’t trip over broken cobblestone or a protruding root. She didn’t know when it had gotten so dark. It hadn’t seemed that way only minutes ago.
She couldn’t see anything with the tombs above her, couldn’t hear past the steady, rapid thud of her pulse in her ears. She had a good lead on them. She could lose them in the maze of the cemetery if she just kept her wits about her.
Something howled in the night, like an animal. Excited pants carried on the air behind her.
They couldn’t have gotten to her this fast!
Jessica wanted to scream, wanted to turn around and fight. She hated being chased, hated the helplessness of being prey, but she couldn’t fight against them, not without a weapon of some sort, and she dared not slacken her pace to find one.
A pain stabbed her side, her lungs labored to drag air inside, to keep her from passing out. Jessica tore through the grounds, keeping to the deeper shadows, weaving through the tombs. She dropped her purse, left it, kept going. She headed North, hoping there was a back exit somewhere, or maybe a lighted street or a late running cemetery tour.
Why, why hadn’t she brought Gabriel with her?
Something growled right behind her, a wet, slathering sound that sent fear careening through her vitals. She could feel his hot breath on her bare back, and she did scream then.
It tore from her throat, loud and long and ripping through the air like a siren just before the man grabbed her and threw her to the ground. Jessica landed hard, rolling with the impact, broken shells grinding into her shoulder, scraping her tender skin.
She couldn’t feel any pain, nothing but the sense of weight and pressure--her body went numb with shock.
She kicked out, missing her attackers, wishing she wore heels. She couldn’t see anything, could only hear him circle her. Pebbles sprayed out, striking her shoulders and legs, her face. Someone ran up from behind, two of them, where she couldn’t see, but she could hear heavy, excited breathing.
They didn’t rush her. It was like they were waiting for her to react. Like they were thrilled by the chase--as she knew they must be. Jessica struggled to her knees, planting her palms on the ground, clutching two handfuls of grit and shell as she rose to her feet.
The scuffle of feet told her one lunged, and she threw a handful of dirt at his face, whirling to throw it at another. They cursed, growling almost inhumanly as she dashed past them, guided only by sound and touch now. The main path opened before her, so close she could taste freedom and safety.
A hand closed in her hair, yanking her back. Rough hands groped her breasts, her waist, her hips, everywhere on her body. Jessica screamed in fury and fought them, but they were all around, holding her arms, holding her legs as they brought her to the ground.
One of them lifted her skirt and tore her panties away, burning the flesh of her hips as the thin fabric gave way. She kicked at him, satisfied to hear him grunt with pain as she connected with his cock, and then her legs were hauled apart.
Jessica screamed again, snapping her teeth at the hands that held her, rising off the ground as she bucked against their hold. Rough jeans slid up the insides of her thighs. She smelled the musky scent of bare cock and thought she’d throw up.
They were going to rape her.
