nights ago. The toxicology screen turned up some interesting chemicals in her bloodstream. A cornucopia of botanical psychedelics, the coroner said, along with a substance that no one has been able to identify.”
“What’s that got to do with Darius?”
“Everything if that unknown substance turns out to be gray dust.”
“ Gray dust? Jesus.” Ethan turned once again to scan the darkness. He looked pale and tense in the light that streamed through the doorway, and I could have sworn I heard a note of fear in his voice. “I thought that stuff disappeared years ago.”
“Apparently, it’s resurfaced just when Darius Goodwine returns from a long African sabbatical,” Devlin said grimly. “There’s only one source for gray dust and only a handful of outsiders that have ever been granted access. He’s one of them.”
“Yes, but he’s not the only one.”
“Come on.” Devlin sounded impatient. “Today was no coincidence. He wanted you to see him just like he made sure those rumors about the gray dust got back to me. Just like he made sure the right chemicals turned up in that woman’s body to create a mask. Every move he makes has a purpose.” Again, Devlin tilted his head, as if trying to detect some distant sound. I glanced up, but the trees remained silent.
“What is it?” Ethan asked anxiously.
“Nothing. I guess I’m hearing things, too.”
“Darius has that effect.” Ethan rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s hard to believe a man in his position would take such a risk. It’s not like he needs the money these days.”
“Money was never his motivation. Gray dust gives him the power to play God.”
“The wielder of life and death,” Ethan murmured. “Isn’t that what he used to say?”
Devlin moved over to the steps and stood gazing out into the yard. If he looked down at just the right angle, he would surely spot me. I wanted to fade more deeply into the shadows of the porch, but I was afraid even a slight sound would draw his attention. Discovery would be the ultimate humiliation, but I was also fascinated by the conversation. Mariama’s maiden name was Goodwine so I suspected she had some connection to Darius. What I didn’t know was why the very utterance of his name seemed to invoke dread. I felt a tremor of something in the air that made my heart beat even faster.
“I used to think gray dust was a myth,” Ethan said. “I always scoffed when Father and Mariama talked about it so reverently. I still say it’s just a very powerful hallucinogen.”
“It’s more than that,” Devlin said. “It stops the heart and people die. And the ones that come back…” As he moved down the steps, he turned his head away, and his voice became muffled. I couldn’t make out the rest of his comment.
“You’ve seen them?” Ethan asked.
Devlin moved back to the steps. “They’re still out there if you know where to look. Take a walk on the east side sometime, down along America Street. You can still spot one now and then among the crackheads and heroin addicts. Eyes frosted like a corpse, shuffling around all slumped over as if they’d dragged something back from hell with them.”
Ethan was silent for a moment. “Father used to call them zombies.”
“They’re not zombies,” Devlin scoffed. “Just fools that trusted Darius Goodwine.”
Ethan rose and moved down the steps. I couldn’t see either of their faces now, but their voices carried clearly to my hiding place.
“What are you going to do?” he asked Devlin.
“He’ll have to be stopped.”
“Not by you, I hope. He’s a powerful man, John. From what I hear, he’s got disciples all over the city. Some in very high places.”
“I’m not afraid of him.”
Something in Devlin’s voice, a hint of excitement, sent a warning thrill up my spine.
“Maybe you should be,” Ethan said.
“And why is that?”
“You know why.”
“No, I don’t. But I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”
In the
“What’s that got to do with Darius?”
“Everything if that unknown substance turns out to be gray dust.”
“ Gray dust? Jesus.” Ethan turned once again to scan the darkness. He looked pale and tense in the light that streamed through the doorway, and I could have sworn I heard a note of fear in his voice. “I thought that stuff disappeared years ago.”
“Apparently, it’s resurfaced just when Darius Goodwine returns from a long African sabbatical,” Devlin said grimly. “There’s only one source for gray dust and only a handful of outsiders that have ever been granted access. He’s one of them.”
“Yes, but he’s not the only one.”
“Come on.” Devlin sounded impatient. “Today was no coincidence. He wanted you to see him just like he made sure those rumors about the gray dust got back to me. Just like he made sure the right chemicals turned up in that woman’s body to create a mask. Every move he makes has a purpose.” Again, Devlin tilted his head, as if trying to detect some distant sound. I glanced up, but the trees remained silent.
“What is it?” Ethan asked anxiously.
“Nothing. I guess I’m hearing things, too.”
“Darius has that effect.” Ethan rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s hard to believe a man in his position would take such a risk. It’s not like he needs the money these days.”
“Money was never his motivation. Gray dust gives him the power to play God.”
“The wielder of life and death,” Ethan murmured. “Isn’t that what he used to say?”
Devlin moved over to the steps and stood gazing out into the yard. If he looked down at just the right angle, he would surely spot me. I wanted to fade more deeply into the shadows of the porch, but I was afraid even a slight sound would draw his attention. Discovery would be the ultimate humiliation, but I was also fascinated by the conversation. Mariama’s maiden name was Goodwine so I suspected she had some connection to Darius. What I didn’t know was why the very utterance of his name seemed to invoke dread. I felt a tremor of something in the air that made my heart beat even faster.
“I used to think gray dust was a myth,” Ethan said. “I always scoffed when Father and Mariama talked about it so reverently. I still say it’s just a very powerful hallucinogen.”
“It’s more than that,” Devlin said. “It stops the heart and people die. And the ones that come back…” As he moved down the steps, he turned his head away, and his voice became muffled. I couldn’t make out the rest of his comment.
“You’ve seen them?” Ethan asked.
Devlin moved back to the steps. “They’re still out there if you know where to look. Take a walk on the east side sometime, down along America Street. You can still spot one now and then among the crackheads and heroin addicts. Eyes frosted like a corpse, shuffling around all slumped over as if they’d dragged something back from hell with them.”
Ethan was silent for a moment. “Father used to call them zombies.”
“They’re not zombies,” Devlin scoffed. “Just fools that trusted Darius Goodwine.”
Ethan rose and moved down the steps. I couldn’t see either of their faces now, but their voices carried clearly to my hiding place.
“What are you going to do?” he asked Devlin.
“He’ll have to be stopped.”
“Not by you, I hope. He’s a powerful man, John. From what I hear, he’s got disciples all over the city. Some in very high places.”
“I’m not afraid of him.”
Something in Devlin’s voice, a hint of excitement, sent a warning thrill up my spine.
“Maybe you should be,” Ethan said.
“And why is that?”
“You know why.”
“No, I don’t. But I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”
In the
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