"Unleash your creativity and unlock your potential with MsgBrains.Com - the innovative platform for nurturing your intellect." » » 🌏💙 ,,Under a Blue Moon'' - by Philip Cook🌏💙

Add to favorite 🌏💙 ,,Under a Blue Moon'' - by Philip Cook🌏💙

Select the language in which you want the text you are reading to be translated, then select the words you don't know with the cursor to get the translation above the selected word!




Go to page:
Text Size:

“Apparently, she’s visiting the man we know as Churchie.”

“Oh.”

“What was the ‘oh’ for?”

“I’m outside Churchie’s place at the moment. Gill Watts is inside.”

“Okay, we’ll be there shortly.”

“Will get my deputy to pick you up from the barge. Communicate through two-way.”

“Good, thanks,” Jack said. “And Phil, be careful.”

Phil placed his phone on the seat and looked over at the house. He stepped out of his car. Opened the trunk and found his protective body armour and communication equipment.

He hoped he didn’t need it.

60 – It’s the hair

RUBY TOOK DEEP BREATHS. She wanted to lash out at this man but she looked at Churchie who shook his head—he must have read her mind. She turned her attention to the intruder. His hand was on the doll and he stared at Ruby.

“I was surprised you came back to the island. I understand it doesn’t hold good memories for you.”

The man looked tired, as though he was worn out from some battle. His hands shook slightly.

“I’ve seen my brother a few times. You know he’s in prison, awaiting trial. He knows he’ll be locked up for life this time unless he escapes, but that’s something he’ll have to work out. He’s told me a few things about you.”

“What did he tell you?” Ruby wanted to know why. Why her? Why was she chosen as the victim, the sacrifice? This might be the only chance she had to find out.

The man took a breath, as if surprised Ruby had spoken. He picked up the doll and put it in front of his face. He ran his fingers through the stringy red hair.

“It’s not you. It’s the hair.”

“The hair?”

The man placed the doll back on the table. “Yep, the hair.” He looked at Ruby. “Our dad had red hair and we hated him. I suppose because of who we turned out to be—we didn’t want to be bad, but we didn’t know any better. I’d wake up in my bedroom, full of fear. And mum attracted things into the house. Evil things.”

“I’ve seen those dolls at the local market,” the doctor said. “Do ye know who makes them?”

“Ye?” The man looked at the doctor and then stood up and took his coat off. “She speaks funny.” He hung the coat over the chair with the bottom of the coat draping on the floor. He sat down and returned his gaze to the doctor.

“Ye,” he said again. “Don’t know the person that makes them but I think I know you. You’re one of the local doctors. You helped me deal with a hole in my foot after I stepped on a nail. I remember because you speak funny.”

“Ay.”

The man laughed and picked up his gun. He pointed the muzzle down towards the floor. A metallic sound came as he slid something back on the hand gun.

“Just making sure it’s loaded. Need to have a bullet in the chamber for it all to work.” The man shook, and the tone of his voice seemed somehow different. “Maybe I should have kept my coat on.”

The man’s face hardened. He tilted his head as if interrupted by something. His eyes rolled.

“I could add some wood to the fire. It will warm up the place,” Christopher said.

“Good idea.” Gill used his gun to usher Christopher towards the pot belly.

The man’s voice had changed. Ruby appreciated the presence and the efforts of Churchie and the doctor, but she didn’t like the feel of this man. He was sucking her energy. The doctor’s phone rang. At least that had some energy. It sat on the table next to the doctor’s purse. The doctor looked towards the man.

“Answer it, but put it on speaker. It may be a sick person needing your help.”

This man sent out confusing messages.

The doctor picked up her phone and gave it a swipe. “Hello, Doctor Susan Wright speaking.” 

“Doc, it’s Sergeant Phil Jones, here.”

“Hello, sarge . . . just letting ye know ye’re on loud speaker.”

“Uh . . . thanks.” The sound of the wind came over his phone. “Just driving past Churchie’s place and I noticed your car there. Everything okay?”

“Just having a cuppa with Churchie and Ruby. You remember Ruby—”

“That’s enough,” Gill said. “Hi sarge, it’s Gill Watts here. I’m also part of the cuppa crew. Not sure why the good doctor didn’t mention me.”

“Hello, Gill. You good?” Sergeant Phil said.

“Yep, but I’m trying to make up my mind if I should shoot these people or not.”

<°)))><

Jack got the grim news from Sergeant Phil as the barge came into the dock.

“Operations, we have a siege situation here on the island. We’ll need reinforcements,” Jack said.

The front of the police barge hit land and lowered. Jack sat in an unmarked police vehicle parked on the steel platform. He looked up toward the island and saw one of the island’s police officers waving and getting into his vehicle. Jack gave him the thumbs up, drove off the barge and pulled in behind the officer’s vehicle.

Jack engaged the two–way radio. “Phil, it’s Jack here. We’re on the island now and will be with you shortly.”

All senior officers have had basic hostage negotiation training. Jack dug into his memory bank. He knew that Sergeant Phil’s priority would be to contain and negotiate. He would be building rapport with Gill Watts, trying to work out what he was up to, what his issues were. Was this tied in with his brother, or with Ruby?

Jack was concerned. Gill Watts’s rap sheet wasn’t good.

Why are you there, Gill? Why are you doing this?

The two-way crackled “Water Operation, the Special Emergency Response Team is en route, and the Negotiator Coordination Unit has been called. They’re on their way.”

61 – A lighter soul

CHURCHIE WATCHED GILL WATTS pick up the doctor’s phone and walk over behind the kitchen bench. The demon beside Watts was in a state of glee. Watts wasn’t. His eyes were sunken and his eyelids heavy. People didn’t understand the toll the unseen things placed on them—the constant bickering and the subliminal messages being pumped into their heads.

Are sens