Tyranny of Coins (The Judas Chronicles, #5) Read online

  “David!”

  The branch gave way, taking him with it. Desperate to avoid a free fall to the ground, he threw his arms around the tree’s trunk, surprised when something unseen shoved him against it. Sliding to the ground, his sweatshirt ripped, and the oak’s sharp bark scraped his arms and hands.

  “Oh, baby, are you all right?” Miriam scrambled up the embankment and gently helped him to his feet. His initial grimace turned to a sheepish look as he brushed himself off. “You’re hurt!”

  “Well, at least I got the picture, huh?”

  He retrieved his ball cap and camera. Surprised the camera wasn’t broken, his prized lens received a mere scratch on its black casing. Curious to find what had pushed him against the tree, he gazed up at the spot he’d vacated. The broken branch was next to the thickest one on the tree, and no evidence anyone else had been there. He squinted, wishing he had brought his prescription-tinted eyeglasses, instead of the cheap sunglasses he purchased that morning in Gatlinburg. He didn’t see anything, but sensed unseen eyes glaring back at him. He shivered.

  Get a grip, man. It’s just an empty old tree.

  “I can’t believe you did that!” she scolded, briefly following his gaze before attending to his injuries.

  The scrapes on his arms bled, and his hands ached. Miriam guided him to the blanket and opened her backpack, pulling out a small first-aid kit. A dozen years as a successful pediatrician came in handy. She helped him remove the sweatshirt, and dressed his wounds. The injuries were largely superficial, although their painful sting said otherwise.

  “You stubborn, stupid man,” she said, kissing his hands. “You could’ve been killed just now, do you realize that?”

  She looked into his face. Her eyes were soft and misty.

  Another breeze blew through the trees, much cooler, and it raised gooseflesh on his bare back and chest. Meanwhile, his wife’s kisses moved up his arms. She kissed his neck, and then his mouth with fervor. Powerfully aroused, he saw urgent longing in her eyes. He pulled her down onto the blanket, where they made passionate love.

  * * * *

  Miriam woke in a panic, and looked at her wristwatch.

  “Oh shit!”

  “Huh?” Roused from a dark and fragmented dream, David looked around him, disoriented. “What in the hell happened?”

  Long shadows crept into the ravine. The sun had almost finished its journey across the autumn sky, and a cool crispness filled the air.

  “It’s almost five o’clock. That’s what happened!” she announced, sharply. She grabbed her clothes to dress. “We must’ve fallen asleep.”

  He stood and moved to his pile of clothes at the end of the blanket, where chilled air embraced his naked body. He turned to face his wife, who scrambled to fix her bra and pull on her panties. The sight of her vulnerability aroused him, and he thought about taking her in his arms once more. But, the waning sunlight told him that it wouldn’t be prudent, not to mention she looked distressed. His well-toned body and powerful erection would have little influence. It didn’t help matters the opportunity to do anything else in the park was now lost, on account of their scheduled flight back to Denver from Knoxville the following morning.

  “Are you going to just stand there and admire yourself, or do you think you can be dressed by the time I’m finished here?”

  She smiled, but he knew better than to test her current mood. He dressed, wincing from his wounds as he pulled on his sweatshirt. He finished before she had packed the remaining wine and glasses.

  Miriam motioned for him to step off the blanket, so she could fold it. Something metallic jingled… an object fell onto the ground where his clothes had been. A golden glint caught David’s eye, and he reached to pick it up. It was his wristwatch.

  “This is really strange.” He shrugged and pulled the watch over his wrist, snapping the band shut. “You know I almost never take this off, and only in the shower. I don’t recall removing it from my wrist.”

  Still puzzled, he looked at the spot where it had fallen.

  “What in the hell’s this?”

  A small cloth bag with a leather drawstring lay nestled in the grass. He picked it up. Near the top, “Allie Mae’s Treasures” was cross-stitched on one side in light blue thread.

  “Let me see that,” said Miriam. Setting the blanket down, she walked to him.

  David frowned and looked at the tree, and at the bag again. He shook his head.

  “It’s got to be some sort of prank.” He handed the bag to her. “The name stitched on it is almost identical to the one on the tree.”

  “That’s pretty weird,” she agreed, peering at the bag. David watched her warily look around. She examined the bag more closely, holding it by the knot at the end of its leather drawstring. Another metallic jingle resounded from within the bag. “I wonder what’s inside?”

  She loosened the drawstring and opened the bag. A musty, earthen scent rose from it. Gingerly, she poured the contents into one hand and sifted through them with the other. Four items rested in her palm: a steel sleigh bell, a broken, solid gold locket attached to a chain made from a lesser grade of plated gold, a blue, silk hair ribbon, and a folded letter.

  The bell and hair ribbon looked ordinary, although the ribbon’s quality was very fine. The locket appeared torn at the hinges, and may have contained a picture, or some other keepsake at one time.

  “I wonder what this is about.” Miriam opened the letter. She ran her fingers over the paper, admiring its texture.

  “Do you think it’s such a good idea to be prying into someone’s personal business like this?” It made him uncomfortable, watching her casually skim over the letter’s contents.

  “It can’t be too private, since it was left on the blanket while you and I were sleeping—in the nude, no less.” Her eyes flashed with annoyance, enough to make him drop the issue. She spent the next few minutes silently reading the letter while he looked on. When finished, she refolded it and stood silently.

  “What does it say?” he finally asked.

  “Well, it’s definitely a love letter,” she confirmed, after another moment’s hesitation. “The penmanship is so graceful, as if from another era altogether, which sort of contradicts the occasional misspellings. And, the ink has definite stops and starts, as though an old-fashioned fountain pen was used. Part of the letter is unclear, as if this girl named Allie must’ve read it over and over, until some of the writing faded over time.”

  She opened the bag and placed the items inside, the letter being the last thing in before she closed the drawstring.

  “It’s from a boy or man named Seth,” she continued, handing the bag back to him. She finished folding the blanket and placed it inside her backpack. “It seems he was on his way to some war. The words are too dim for me to make out which one it was. It doesn’t seem possible that the bag could belong to the same girl whose name is on the tree, since the carving was obviously made a long time ago….”

  “The chances for that are probably less than winning the lottery,” he said, when she didn’t go on. This crazy scene made no sense whatsoever. As much as he prided himself on being straight minded and very practical, as he was a CPA by trade, Miriam was even more so. Meanwhile, she busily searched the immediate area.

  “You’re not thinking it’s the same person, are you?” he asked, after she took the bag and moved to the tree. “You do realize how crazy that sounds—especially if the carving on the tree is as old as it looks.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” she agreed, while taking a closer look at the crude inscription and comparing it to the bag. “Of course, we both know a lot of things these days can be made to look a certain way with the right props and equipment. But, who in the hell would go to such trouble?”

  She sighed, and looked toward the tree’s carved image.

  “I guess seeing how lonely the name looks on the tree, along with the letter from the bag, pulled on my heart a little bit,” she admitted. “It’s made me
feel really sad. I hope this girl’s heart wasn’t broken too badly.”

  “I’m sure it’s just some prankster trying to yank our chain,” said David. He moved over and wrapped his arms around her. “Who better to pull one over on than a pair of unsuspecting tourists like us?”

  He looked around the ravine again, scanning for clues as to where a hoax perpetrator could have come and gone from. Only the broken grass and weeds from when he and Miriam had moved through the area earlier met his gaze. He thought about the unseen force that pushed him against the tree.

  “We probably should be on our way, darlin’,” he said. Definitely time to go. Time to get far, far away from this frigging creepy place.

  “Yeah…. Is there anything else near where you found this?”

  He glanced at her, ready to say no. But, an imploring look flickered in her eyes. He knelt and groped through the grass. The cool blades brushed against the scratches on his palms, eliciting a brief tingle. He patted around and touched something—a small nut or pebble? Ready to leave the object in the depths of the grass roots, it turned over in his grasp, and a sharp, jagged edge lashed at his fingers. Grasping the item, he lifted it out of the grass.

  “Holy shit!” he whispered in surprise.

  A broken bicuspid lay in his palm. Dried, crusted blood covered one side.

  Miriam walked over and looked at the tooth. “There’s something really wrong here. We need to take this stuff to the visitors’ center and have someone look at it. We’d better tell them about the tree, too.”

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  About the Author

  Aiden James resides in a small historic town in Tennessee with his wife, Fiona, and their two sons, Christopher and Tyler. An avid researcher of all things paranormal, he still spends time visiting haunted locales throughout the Deep South. Please visit his website at: www.aidenjamesfiction.com, or look for him on Facebook (Aiden James, Paranormal Author) and Twitter (@AidenJames3).