“Johnny in bed?”

“He is. Told me to tell you that he loves you.”

Jack smiled, placed his arm over Erica’s shoulder, and strolled with her into the kitchen.

“Would you like a coffee?”

“Yes, lovely. Bit late but would be nice.” 

Jack stood at the entrance to the butler pantry and watched Erica as she put her barista skills into action.

“Behind every great coffee is a great barista.” Seeing Erica lifted his spirits.

“Well, I had to learn, because your criteria for a great coffee was a lot lower than mine. Too many bad cups of coffee on the job have deadened your taste buds.”

“You’re right and I’m not complaining.”

“Was your day okay?” Erica asked.

Jack was perplexed. He hadn’t had a welcoming home like this for a long time. Why the change? His stomach churned in apprehension.

“Just okay. Someone tried to kill a girl by burying her alive.” Jack knew whatever he told Erica wouldn’t leave the house. “We believe it was some kind of sacrifice. There’re some crazy people out there, but we knew that.”

Erica wrinkled her brow. “What sort of sacrifice?” 

“That’s a good question, love.”

“Devil worship or something?” The hissing sound and mist rising from the milk steamer gave the question an eerie feel.

“Not sure. Maybe demon worship. Do you think that’s the same thing?”

“Don’t know, not an expert.” Erica said, thumping the milk jug on the bench. “Go get into something comfortable while I finish making the coffee.”

Jack returned in his Star Wars lounge pants and navy-blue top—Christmas presents from his son. They sat down at the dining table. Jack found the coasters and pushed one to Erica. 

“You seem happy today.” Jack looked down at his latte topped with a foam heart pattern. How did she do that? 

“I am, Jack. I took Johnny to church today. Just felt I needed to do something. I’ve had a feeling of heaviness over me for some time now. Not sure what happened, but it feels it’s been lifted. I feel lighter.”

“Church . . .”

“Yep, church. Don’t think I’m going religious on you. It’s been on my mind for a while.”

“How did Johnny go? Did he find it boring?”

“Far from it. He asked if we can go again next week. It’s a lot different to what I thought. It had a good feel about it. Good vibrations.”

Good vibrations. Wife attended church. He wondered the significance of it all. It had been one religious, spiritual day. He was pleased Erica had gone—maybe church could stop that dark heavy cloud. He’d seen too much to believe society could solve it. But he wasn’t sure who the real God was. Maybe Erica could find out for both of them.

She reached over and placed her hand on his.

“You do a good job, Jack. Things will work out. We both love you dearly.”

<°)))><

Monday. Ruby had been told to have a few days away from work. She didn’t want to—work would keep her distracted, but she understood what they were saying, and she wanted to visit this Churchie man. Was she up to going back to the island so soon? 

She’d fallen asleep, dreamed of her parents, and woke up sniffling. Thankfully, she fell back into a deep sleep. 

If she’d had a nightmare, she couldn’t remember. Good. What she talked about with Zoe—demons and the like—was good fodder for a nightmare. Ruby had little to no interest in the supernatural so rarely thought about it. But she had no choice now as the supernatural thoughts dominated her mind, and she needed to learn to understand them, and how to keep them out.

Zoe had brought in a cup of tea and toast before she left for work. Ruby sipped the tea and looked down at her MacBook lying on the soft carpet. She placed the tea on her bedside table and reached down for the MacBook. She was already bored.

As daylight streamed into her bedroom, she could handle a venture into the dark world of the occult via Google.

She discovered the occult referred to secret hidden things. Two words that kept cropping up: paranormal and supernatural. It was in the words. Paranormal, something beyond normal. Supernatural, something above nature—Superman came to mind. The concepts seemed to overlap. 

The bloggers spoke of an event some years back where people vanished. Believers of God put it in the category of a supernatural event, whereas non-believers put it in the category of paranormal—believing scientists would be able to explain what happened one day. Ruby smiled. The believers placed their faith in God, while the non-believers placed their trust in scientists. She leaned towards God—surely he could be trusted more than man.

She had vague memories of the event the bloggers posted about. She followed a link to refresh her memory. Halfway through reading, she leaned forward to look closer at a photo attached to the story. She magnified the viewing size. Three homeless men were caught up in the strange event, and two of them looked familiar, but just looked older. Their names weren’t provided. But she knew.

She entered a new Google search criteria. On page two of the search results she found what she was looking for, the same picture, but with names—at least their first names or nicknames. Wally was on the right with Churchie in the middle, and the article spoke about some powers he claimed to have.

The man could see things, supernatural things. If that was true, then what did he see the night she was buried?

She felt the nausea coming and rushed into the bathroom.

Later, sitting back on her bed, she realised something. She needed to go back to the island. 

21 – Motion of the ocean

JACK STOOD ON THE UPPER DECK of the police barge, looking towards the island. He’d heard ‘the motion of the ocean’ got people into the holiday mindset. He’d like that, particularly with Erica’s new mood. He hoped it stayed. 

Light and excited chatter came from the lower deck. He looked down at the State Emergency Services dressed in their orange uniforms—a dozen volunteers coming to the island to help the forensic team scour the parklands for clues. A joyous mood brought about by being able to help solve a crime and a change of scenery—the motion of the ocean.

Catherine wore a sweater today, as there was a chill in the air. Jack looked down at the hair on his arms, which was standing on end. He gave his arm a rub to circulate some heat.

“To tough to wear a pullover, hey. Even too tough to wear a long-sleeve shirt?” Catherine asked.

Jack looked at her. A hug would warm him up. He put out his arms for a hug.

Catherine shook her head.

“You’re right. Not thinking. I should’ve grabbed a sweater. But it will warm up.”

Catherine angled her head towards the crowd on the deck. “Do you think they’ll find anything?”

“Lots of footprints. Maybe some hairs. The ritual was a secretive one. You know, hoods and the like. Drugging your followers doesn’t help. I’m getting some pamphlets made up to see if anyone knows anyone who participated in the event.”