Read Online Crossroads Shadowland by Keta Diablo - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Keta Diablo
Ads: Link
later when his sixth chakra
opened, Frank slipped into a higher level of consciousness and
willed his body to enter a boneless state.
He knew he'd reached Valmont when the sound of a chair
scraping across wooden planks filtered
into his brain.
The image flared, faded and
then returned before a deep, resonant voice blared like a megaphone in the room. "You bore witness to my
violated resting place."
Frank collected his
courage. "Yes, Valmont, I saw the broken headstone." For the first
time Frank saw not only the man's beard, but every feature of
his face—strong jaw, brown eyes and hair
the color of wheat.
Valmont leaned forward and tapped the
bayonet on the floor. "Was all I had left, a white stone marking my
time on earth."
"A stupid, reckless undertaking without
thought to their actions."
"You're dead," they said. "You're dead and
must accept your fate."
"They're children, Valmont,
didn't mean it; didn't understand the repercussions from such a deed."
"Now they bear witness to
their lies. They see with their own eyes that I'm not-not dead."
Frank paused and wondered
from what angle he should approach the subject. If he said, 'Yes, you are dead,' the session could
be over before it began. "You fought
bravely in the Battle of New Orleans, but you surrendered your life raising the Confederate flag that
day."
Pride and sorrow meshed and rang in his
voice. "24 April 1862."
"Yes, Valmont, you died
that day, courageously. Now I'm asking you to perform another act of courage."
With narrowed eyes, Doucet
shook his head. "Like me, they walk the halls of oblivion now because of their actions, their words.
'Get out', they said. 'Get out of New Orleans and accept your
fate.'"
Frank expelled a rush of
air as a mental image of what happened that night took shape in his mind. "You were twenty-two when you
made the choice, you knew the risk. Brent
and Charlie are only fourteen, weren't told of the consequences
beforehand." Frank lowered his tone, his voice a whisper across the
great expanse of time and space. "They made a terrible
mistake."
"It's a cold, dark and lonely place."
Frank's hope rose. At least
Doucet hadn't shut him down outright. He jumped in with both feet. "I've seen this cold, dark place
you speak of, see it again now, but I know
of a way for you to leave the desolate halls you wander."
Valmont arched his neck back. "You mean to
trick me?"
"No trick. You return the
boys and you'll be granted everlasting peace, I swear."
A strangled growl filled the hotel room.
"You have one chance, and only one to convince me."
"I'll take it." Frank held
his breath. "Do you remember the Ursuline nuns? They tended wounded soldiers, administered last rights
at their convent."
"They saw to my wounds,
wiped my fevered brow." He looked at the floor. "They too are all gone now."
"Not all," Frank said.
"Sister Francoise Genevieve of the Ursuline order has given her
word, you relinquish the boys and she'll personally commend your soul to God."
His voice died out. "One chance."
"Wait! Meet me tonight at
your grave, but I need to see Brent and Charlie first."
Growing fainter, Valmont's
words scattered like morning mist. "You gave your word and I have given mine."
* * * * *
Suffocating on his anger,
Rand passed the desk and charged through the front door of the hotel. When would Frank stop treating him
like a milk-l ivered Sally? The
thick-skulled jackass had pushed his back to the wall again, and this time he couldn't back down.
In the back of his mind
he'd worried about lines blurring once he became Frank's partner. Would the man waffle when the heat
came down and don his shining armor to
protect him or would he handle things with his usual fearless composure? Rand would worry no more.
Frank had unequivocally drawn the line. He
could hang around when things were cool, but had to hit the road when the shit hit the fan.
After kicking the cement at
his feet, he drew an imaginary line with the toe of his tennis
shoe. "I
opened, Frank slipped into a higher level of consciousness and
willed his body to enter a boneless state.
He knew he'd reached Valmont when the sound of a chair
scraping across wooden planks filtered
into his brain.
The image flared, faded and
then returned before a deep, resonant voice blared like a megaphone in the room. "You bore witness to my
violated resting place."
Frank collected his
courage. "Yes, Valmont, I saw the broken headstone." For the first
time Frank saw not only the man's beard, but every feature of
his face—strong jaw, brown eyes and hair
the color of wheat.
Valmont leaned forward and tapped the
bayonet on the floor. "Was all I had left, a white stone marking my
time on earth."
"A stupid, reckless undertaking without
thought to their actions."
"You're dead," they said. "You're dead and
must accept your fate."
"They're children, Valmont,
didn't mean it; didn't understand the repercussions from such a deed."
"Now they bear witness to
their lies. They see with their own eyes that I'm not-not dead."
Frank paused and wondered
from what angle he should approach the subject. If he said, 'Yes, you are dead,' the session could
be over before it began. "You fought
bravely in the Battle of New Orleans, but you surrendered your life raising the Confederate flag that
day."
Pride and sorrow meshed and rang in his
voice. "24 April 1862."
"Yes, Valmont, you died
that day, courageously. Now I'm asking you to perform another act of courage."
With narrowed eyes, Doucet
shook his head. "Like me, they walk the halls of oblivion now because of their actions, their words.
'Get out', they said. 'Get out of New Orleans and accept your
fate.'"
Frank expelled a rush of
air as a mental image of what happened that night took shape in his mind. "You were twenty-two when you
made the choice, you knew the risk. Brent
and Charlie are only fourteen, weren't told of the consequences
beforehand." Frank lowered his tone, his voice a whisper across the
great expanse of time and space. "They made a terrible
mistake."
"It's a cold, dark and lonely place."
Frank's hope rose. At least
Doucet hadn't shut him down outright. He jumped in with both feet. "I've seen this cold, dark place
you speak of, see it again now, but I know
of a way for you to leave the desolate halls you wander."
Valmont arched his neck back. "You mean to
trick me?"
"No trick. You return the
boys and you'll be granted everlasting peace, I swear."
A strangled growl filled the hotel room.
"You have one chance, and only one to convince me."
"I'll take it." Frank held
his breath. "Do you remember the Ursuline nuns? They tended wounded soldiers, administered last rights
at their convent."
"They saw to my wounds,
wiped my fevered brow." He looked at the floor. "They too are all gone now."
"Not all," Frank said.
"Sister Francoise Genevieve of the Ursuline order has given her
word, you relinquish the boys and she'll personally commend your soul to God."
His voice died out. "One chance."
"Wait! Meet me tonight at
your grave, but I need to see Brent and Charlie first."
Growing fainter, Valmont's
words scattered like morning mist. "You gave your word and I have given mine."
* * * * *
Suffocating on his anger,
Rand passed the desk and charged through the front door of the hotel. When would Frank stop treating him
like a milk-l ivered Sally? The
thick-skulled jackass had pushed his back to the wall again, and this time he couldn't back down.
In the back of his mind
he'd worried about lines blurring once he became Frank's partner. Would the man waffle when the heat
came down and don his shining armor to
protect him or would he handle things with his usual fearless composure? Rand would worry no more.
Frank had unequivocally drawn the line. He
could hang around when things were cool, but had to hit the road when the shit hit the fan.
After kicking the cement at
his feet, he drew an imaginary line with the toe of his tennis
shoe. "I
Similar Books
