Shemo, followed by James, ran into the street spotting a car in flames and people huddled on the sidewalk. They watched the form of Roland, possessed by Ogou La Flambo, running towards the French Quarter at an inhuman pace.
Shemo ran for the parking lot on the opposite side of the building and started his van. Barreling down the street, he stopped only long enough for James to jump in. “Where did he go?” James yelled as he hung out of the window.
Shemo shook his head, “He is on the loose. I don’t know how we gonna find him.” They continued through the Bywater area looking up and down every cross street. Suddenly, Shemo slammed on the breaks as they neared the railroad tracks past Piety Street. The bodies of half a dozen men lay scattered across the tracks.
James jumped out of the van to investigate. “They are not dead, thankfully. They look like they took a beating, though.”
Shemo shook his head in disbelief, “All six of ‘em?”
“Yea, unless there was a group brawl going on, this may be Ogou’s work.”
“I gotta tell ya’ this has never happened before,” Shemo explained sadly. “He must be taking his reward for agreeing to help on the astral. Oguo La Flambo loves to ride a body and have some fun. His fun usually includes creating chaos.”
James looked worried, “I’m concerned about Roland. This spirit could run him to death, get him in bad trouble, get him arrested.”
The men lying on the tracks, stirred, some sat up. One man stood and walked around checking on
his friends. “Let’s keep going,” Shemo said, climbing into the van.
After a couple of hours of searching the streets of the Bywater and the Marigny, they parked the van and walked into the French Quarter.
“You want to split up?” James asked.
Shemo shook his head, “No, cause when we find him we gonna’ need to restrain him. It will take both of us.”
James scowled, “What do mean restrain him?”
“The Loa don’t like to be confined. If the horseman is restrained the Loa will depart.”
“So, you are saying Roland is being ridden, he is a vehicle and once the vehicle can no longer act out the will of Ogou La Flambo, he will be released?”
“Tha’s right. At least, tha’s what I’m hopin is right.”
James heard the tinge of fear in Shemo’s voice which worried him more than he wanted to admit.
Walking slowly through the main aisle of the huge open market on the edge of the French Quarter, James and Shemo scanned the crowd.
“This is going to take forever, there are hundreds of booths and look at the number of people,” James said, discouraged.
Shemo rubbed his chin and frowned, “We’re lookin for a disturbance in the pattern. We can’t possibly examine every face. Look for an area hyper energized or disturbed.”
James’s face lit up, “Ah, yes, that makes sense and makes it easier.”
The two men turned the corner and entered the aisle on the far left of the market. “There!” James exclaimed, pointing to one of the stalls. The display table was pushed out into the aisle and there was a police officer talking to the agitated vender.
“What happened here?” James asked the guy selling tie dye shirts in the next stall.
“Craziness, man. This dude came up to Omar’s display and picked up this old scimitar he has had for sale for years. This long haired guy looked mellow until he waved the big, old, curved knife over his head. “Oh, man, the look on the dude’s face was scary. Omar yelled at him, but the guy was, like, deaf. Finally, Omar tried to grab him but the dude swung the scimitar at him. He was going to take Omar’s head off with it. Omar went running back behind the display table. He told the guy he could have the scimitar. He wanted him to get outta’ here, man.”
James nodded, “How long did it take the police to get here?”
The tie dye salesman glanced at his watch, “About half an hour.”
Shemo cursed under his breath, “Did you see where he headed?”
“He cut across the area with the displays on the ground and disappeared around the corner.”
James and Shemo exchanged glances as they set off at a run. Ogou La Flambo running through the French Quarter brandishing a scimitar was not good.
‘Where would he go?’ The two priests thought simultaneously.
Shemo stood still, closed his eyes and shook his head in frustration, ‘Anywhere he wants to go.’ They searched for another fruitless hour and decided to return to the Peristyle.
The magical group was performing a ritual scrying for Roland. They looked up as James and Shemo entered. The two men could tell, from their distraught expressions, they had been equally unsuccessful in their search.
The sun was making its slow descent into the river, when Jolene announced she was ready to close the circle at the Peristyle and return to Panthea’s. “We’re exhausted. We’ve been scrying for hours with no results. Let’s have something to eat, get some rest and resume our search.”
After a light dinner, the group gathered again. James had slept for a bit, but still looked exhausted. They divided the areas of the French Quarter, Rampart Street and the Desire Housing Project between them. James nodded to each member as he explained, “‘We’ll search these areas and regroup here by 10PM. If anyone finds him, restrain him quickly.
Sabine handed keys to the team, “Try to return here immediately. This is the key to the gate. Get Roland back into the courtyard. If he is calm, get him into the meditation temple. If not, tie him to one of the gallery poles. I will be placing rope on the iron bench closest to the fountain.”
“This can’t be happening,” Lilly cried.
Alustra and Shemo spoke up simultaneously, “It won’t be necessary to restrain him for more than a few minutes, Lilly. Once the vehicle is stopped, Ogou La Flambeau’s fun will be over. He will exit Roland’s body quickly.”
Lilly nodded numbly, as Jolene put her
