had on a guy who claimed to have been taken away by a UFO. I see what you mean about having assorted weirdos as guests.”
“Oh, yeah. John Smallwood. Actually, he was quite tame. Last week I interviewed a devil worshipper.”
“A what?”
“A devil worshipper. The guy really was weird. Gave me the shivers.”
“I’ll bet. Was he serious?”
“As a funeral. Claimed that he heard voices. And that the voices led him here. You could see something in his eyes—this guy’s not normal. Not by any stretch of the imagination. And you want to hear the worst part?”
Erik nodded.
“I was talking with my friend in the A.G’s office. The FBI is watching this character.”
“For being a devil worshipper? I mean it’s weird and all, but it’s not illegal, is it? Isn’t he protected by freedom of religion?”
“If all you’re doing is worshipping, yeah. But it’s more complicated than that. You can worship anything you want as long as you don’t break the law. But some of these weirdos go beyond that. They’ve tracked this guy all the way from California. He left there about a year ago and has slowly been making his way across the country. He’s the leader of a cult group and he and a few of his followers get together in the woods every so often and do their thing. Only no one knows for sure what exactly their thing is. The guy wouldn’t talk about it much, except to hear him tell it they worship the birds and the breeze and little voices in his head. But according to the A.G.’s Office they’re doing more than just reading the Lord’s Prayer backwards and frolicking in the bushes.”
“Orgies?”
“A lot worse than just sex. Kidnapping. Child molestation and abuse. Maybe even murder. The F.B.I. thinks they’re performing human sacrifice. With children.”
“My God!”
“Of course, nothing’s been proven. The F.B.I.’s been following a string of missing teens that seem to follow the path of these weirdos. A couple of bodies have turned up. They were killed in some perverted form of Satanic ritual. They haven’t been able to pin it on this group, but they are definitely suspects.”
“That’s worse than a Stephen King novel!”
“You know what they say about truth being stranger than fiction.”
“What are they doing to stop these nuts?”
“There’s not much they can do, except watch them, I guess. There’s no hard evidence to connect the murders to this group. The F.B.I. has tried to get an undercover agent into the group, but it hasn’t worked. You’d have to be really weird in order to fit in, I guess.”
“Where is this guy now?”
“I’m not sure. He was in Rhode Island a week ago. Maybe they’ve moved on by now. They like to stick to the out-of-the-way wooded areas. My guess is that they’re headed north. New Hampshire. Maybe Maine. They could really get lost there.”
“I live out in the country. Chepachet. You don’t think they’d be there, do you?”
“I doubt it. I suspect they’ve gone north. Rhode Island’s too small. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
Erik shook his head in disgust.
“Well,” Steve said. “It’s just about showtime. Hey, listen, don’t tell anyone what I told you about these devil worshippers, ok? It might screw up the investigation if word got out. I wouldn’t share this with the usual weirdos I have on the show, but, like I said, you’re the first normal guest I’ve had in a long time.”
He could see why Steve Harvey made such a good talk show host. The man loved to talk, and could make other people talk as well. Erik suspected that he’d probably told half of Rhode Island about these devil worshippers that were supposed to be so secret. The whole thing was probably just an urban legend. If not, he guessed the talk would force the devil worshippers to move on.
“Don’t worry,” Erik said, wondering how the time had gone so fast.
“Thanks,” Steve said. “Now, let’s go do a show!”
CHAPTER FIVE
-1-
The two-hour talk show passed quickly as Erik easily fielded questions from local callers. In fact, he relished his new-found role of home town celebrity and promised Steve that he’d return and do another show when the film was released. As usual, most of the callers asked him about films rather than books. It was ironic, he thought, that he, a novelist, should be making his money from the movies. But it was the video age, after all, and he’d come to expect people to be interested in pictures instead of words. Besides, Nicole Kidman and Robert Downey Jr. could sell horror a lot better than he could. Having grown up a fan of horror and science fiction films, he’d had no trouble displaying his expertise to the local audience.
It wasn’t until he was driving home that he thought about Steve’s story of devil worshippers again, and related it to Todd’s experience in the woods. With sudden panic he wondered if Todd might have stumbled into some bizarre Satanic ritual in the woods.
Then again, he suspected Steve Harvey was prone to exaggeration and fiction. But even the remote possibility was frightening enough. The thought of it unnerved him.
And what about Dovecrest? Could he be part of something? It seemed like quite a coincidence that he just happened to go out wandering into the woods last night. And that Todd had just “run into him.” Something didn’t add up. He was convinced that Dovecrest knew more than he was telling. Even that thing about hanging the talisman on the back door was strange.
This whole thing was just too scary. Here he’d moved out of the city to get away from all of the trouble and the violence, and what happens? His son gets the scare of his life on his first trip outside.
Devil worshippers, in this day and age. How weird was that.
Not that he believed in the devil—at least not with the red suit, the horns, and the pitchfork. That image was quite silly, really, something to scare children into doing the right thing. But he did believe in evil. And he’d read enough history to know that sick individuals had been torturing and maiming their fellow humans since the dawn of time—sometimes in the name of Satan, and sometimes even in the name of God.
But this was probably a fabrication, and exaggeration. And even if it wasn’t, this wacko had probably moved on by now, as Steve suspected. He could really get lost in the thick forests of New Hampshire, Vermont, and Maine.
And he was probably jumping to conclusions about Todd. The boy had probably been frightened by the dark, and by his own imagination. Still, Dovecrest troubled him. Something about the Indian just wasn’t right.
He decided to ask his son some specific questions as soon as the opportunity presented itself. He also decided to do a little research on his own about this devil worship crap. If nothing else, he could use it in one of his horror stories. And while he was at it, he intended to check out this Dovecrest character.
He intended to find out everything he could about the place where
