The Secrets of Moonshine Read online

  The Secrets of Moonshine

  The Secrets

  of

  Moonshine

  Copyright © 2011 Denise Daisy

  Still Publications

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN:

  ISBN-13

  Acknowledgments

  This book is the culmination of a dream. I consider myself a story teller. I create characters, plan out their lives, and in the thick of the plot, I hope to inspire the reader. It is my desire to impact the reader in such a way that their lives are forever changed for having entered my story.

  I am in love with the greatest story teller ever. He is writing the story of my life and is certainly making it exciting. He is tossing in a ton of suspense, a load of comedy, a bit of intrigue, a touch of romance, a pinch of tragedy and an enormous amount of thrills. I wish to thank Him first and foremost. Thank you God, my father, for you are brilliant at doing life.

  Just as I invent characters to influence my stories, God has put some amazing people in my path to shape the story of my life. I would like to publicly thank them now.

  To my amazing four daughters: Autumn, Brittany, Kendall and Journey; you make my life worth living. We have learned joy in the worst circumstances. We have laughed and cried and loved. My favorite times are when we had nothing but our dreams; they inspired us to believe in the invisible and do the impossible. God made us learn faith so we could see him, and isn’t he beautiful?

  To my former husband Paul: thank you for being a great man. Thank you for your sacrifices and for always loving me even when I was unlovely. I will always love you.

  To my best friend Carleene: thank you for your friendship, your belief in me and your encouragement. Thank you for that day at Santee Lakes when you looked at me and told me to write because it was what I loved to do. Thank you for always being there, whether we were building sets, dressing like angels and flying high, signing our love to the Father, creatively moving, anointing with oil, doing facials, drinking acai juice, or heading to a healing. You have always been there, and I love you for it.

  To Mark Batterson, who inspired me to chase my lions: thank you for your ministry and being obedient to the call. You changed my life.

  To the Bradley Starbucks Baristas, Austin, Kari, Andrew, Ryan, Kyle, Ricky, Mark, Todd, and all the others who make the best caramel frappes, and greet me every day with a smile: I enjoyed using your dining room as my office. You guys are great!

  To Jacob Robison who was the best Huck ever: thank you for listening to the voice of God and being obedient to what he said. You are the reason this book is in print. I could never say thank you enough. You have impacted my life. I will never forget you.

  To the special ones of “The Secrets Club,” Christina Raynes, Shannon Wilson, Sandy StClair, Dottie Sandoval, Shelane Paraiso, Celina Hernandez, Grace Corning, Mish Mucho, Debbie Binsfield, Tashawni Crosby, Sandra Raynes, Carleene Parra, Chris Malone, Deborah Fischer, Kendall Plunk, Julia Myers, Alicia Stevers, Mendy Cady, Kim Rugama, Phyllis Montoya, Kevin Binsfield, Shannon Ortiz, Maranda Davis, Jamia Binsfield, Brittany Griffin, Nathalie Santiago: rejoice, you know the secrets and you will always be on the nice list.

  Finally, to the real-life Travis, Scott Dazey: thank you for little golden envelopes, birthday dinners, mountain hikes, picnic spots, late night tacos, dizzy juice, chess matches I never win, cuddling on the couch, and most of all for simply liking who I am. You make a great Travis. I love you.

  In Loving memory of Ruby Nell Parton

  My Big Granny

  The Secrets

  of

  Moonshine

  CHAPTER ONE

  THE ARRIVAL

  Had Bronwyn been paying attention, she would’ve seen them moving through the forest, following her, lying in wait to attack. But she didn’t see them. Her mind was preoccupied, just as it always was, and for the life of her, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get him out of her head.

  She despised herself for being weak and allowing him to consume her thoughts. She was grateful he had no way of knowing how many times a day he invaded her head, because if he had known, she was sure he would be quite pleased with himself. She wondered if he ever thought of her, but doubted he did, now that he was with Gabriella. The thought of them together caused her stomach to ache, so she shook her head, hoping to clear the image crowding into her mind.

  She shifted in her seat again. Months of traveling on the old bus and you would think she would have grown accustomed to sleeping in the uncomfortable seats, but she hadn’t. Listening to the snores and heavy breathing of her eight traveling companions only made her wish she could join them in their peaceful slumber. She frowned, knowing it would only be an open door for him to enter her dreams as well.

  Sighing, she wiped her hand across the window, clearing away the fog, and peered out into the darkness. The drama troupe did this same tour last summer, and even though it had been a year, she was certain she would have remembered this narrow two-lane highway, but she didn’t. That only meant Walt must have taken a wrong turn somewhere, which also meant a delay in arriving at the hotel and getting off the cramped bus. She usually wasn’t easily irritated, but tonight something had her on edge. Maybe it was the stifling heat in the bus, or the lack of peaceful sleep over the past few months, but whatever the cause, she could not shake the premonition of impending doom. Slipping from her seat, she crept to the front of the bus.

  “Are we lost?”

  Walt startled, “Dang it, Bronwyn! Why did you sneak up on me like that?”

  “I didn’t sneak, you‘re just nervous because you’re lost, aren’t you?”

  He ignored the question and pressed on the gas, pushing the bus to the limit, and then nodded his head toward the thermostat. “I’m afraid we’re ’bout to overheat. I think this steep mountain road may be a little too much for our engine.”

  Bronwyn looked through the windshield, struggling to see into the bitter darkness, hoping he was mistaken. “You better figure something out. It looks pretty desolate out there.”

  Walt sighed in relief when the bus reached the top of the incline, but as it began taking the curvy descent down the other side, a loud hissing exploded from underneath. The headlights dimmed, then flickered out, leaving them in darkness.

  “Damn it,” he cursed, “I’ve lost power!”

  The veins in his scrawny arms bulged beneath his skin as he grasped the wheel, turning it with all the strength he could muster. Bronwyn clutched the seat in front of her, holding her breath, fearing an unavoidable plunge into the deep canyon below. “For God’s sake Walt, just stop the bus!”

  “I’m trying, damn it!”

  Standing from the driver’s seat, he stomped on the brakes, pumping them in desperation. Bronwyn dug her nails deep into the upholstery, as if the force of her grip could somehow help bring them to a stop.

  Lightning struck within inches, provoking more profanity from Walt. The sudden flash of light illuminated the dark highway long enough for Bronwyn to see a man standing in the road ahead. Gasping in horror, her grip intensified as she anticipated the bus plowing straight into him. The flash lasted a fraction of a second before casting them back into darkness.

  However, a sphere of golden light created an orb around the man, allowing her a better look. His clothing resembled that of an ancient warrior. His saffron eyes penetrated through the windshield, searing into her soul, invading her body with a sudden rush of heat.

  “Bronwyn,” a voice beckoned. She looked around, unnerved by the haunting call. The other passengers continued sleeping, unaware of the impending danger, and Walt was still cursing. Besides, his voice was too high pitched to be a match. The voice summoned again, much louder this
time, accompanied by the sound of rushing wind. Covering her ears, she looked at Walt, who didn’t seem to hear it. A deafening silence followed her eerie encounter, so she never heard the gravel and debris racing into the wheel well, spraying the sides of the bus as it skidded toward the deep ravine.

  Walt clenched the steering wheel, his arms trembling in his attempt to regain control. Then, without warning, the wheel turned in the opposite direction, nearly snapping his wrist. The bus continued skidding sideways before coming to an abrupt stop and launching Bronwyn into the stairwell. Bracing herself, she struggled to grasp the handrail, all the while praying the door would remain closed.

  Letting out a long sigh, Walt quickly shifted the bus into park. He sat still for a few seconds, attempting to calm his nerves before turning to face her. “You okay?”

  She nodded, trying to find her voice.

  Pulling out his hanky, he mopped the sweat from the back of his neck. “If it hadn’t been for that flash of lightning, I’d have driven this bus right off the highway. I had no idea how close to the edge we were.”

  He didn’t mention seeing the man, and that disturbed her. She felt a bit of uneasiness crawl upon her. She knew what she saw was real, and was certain that whoever or whatever it was had seen her too. Besides, she still felt the intense heat that penetrated her when the eyes of the man somehow looked inside of her.

  Glancing out the window she searched for the strange apparition but the road was dark. Thunderclouds hung ominously in the night sky, obscuring any light the moon had to offer. Another flash of lightning ripped through the darkness of the night. A slight shiver invaded her. The road was empty, the man gone. Only ghostly trees stood vigil, barring entrance to the dense forest that lined both sides of the forgotten highway.

  Walt turned to the other eight passengers, now awake, jarred by the sudden stop. The touring bus was home to the traveling drama troupe. Each member claimed a section of seats as their own personal apartment. A myriad of complaints and questions began rising out of the darkness from their concerned voices.

  “Is everyone okay?”

  The sound of Walt’s voice seemed muffled to Bronwyn, her hearing coming back slowly.

  Marcus, the director of the troupe, made his way forward. “What the hell happened?”

  Karley joined him, spilling her complaints in the blinding darkness. “Did you fall asleep at the wheel again?”

  “No, I didn’t fall asleep at the wheel, nor have I ever.” Walt expected the accusations from the troupe’s most opinionated and over-confident technical engineer. “I just saved your lousy ass. A little respect would be nice.”

  Marcus jumped in quickly in an attempt to derail another blame-game argument between the two. “So what happened?”

  Walt collapsed in the driver’s seat, defeated. “We lost the engine.”

  Simultaneous groans sounded throughout the bus.

  “Everyone just sit tight and stay calm,” Marcus sighed, not at all pleased with the situation. “You sure it won’t start at all?”

  Walt attempted to re-start the engine to prove his point.

  “Dead as a doornail.”

  “Did you try calling for assistance?”

  “Haven’t had cell reception for the past fifty miles.”

  “Karley?” Marcus looked hopeful.

  “There ain’t nothin’ I can do. I’ve been warnin’ Wilbur this would happen. He knows this bus is a pile of crap, but he’s so dang cheap, he thinks duct tape and a coat hanger can fix everything. Now look at us. It’s damn near midnight and we’re broke down, stuck out in the middle of nowhere.” She looked out of the windshield, “Where are we anyway?”

  Walt cleared his throat nervously, “I’m not sure of our exact location. I think the map I was using was an old one.”

  “We’re lost.” Bronwyn admitted to Marcus.

  “Not entirely,” Walt refused defeat. “I saw a sign a ways back that said, ‘Moonshine, eight miles.’ If there is a town ahead, there should be something on the outskirts. I guess we could do some hiking.”

  Karley crossed her arms in front of her and cocked her eyebrows. “We? Don‘t be lookin’ at me and sayin’ we. I‘m keepin’ my ass right here on this piece of shit while you, Mr. Wrong Way Walt, go get us some help.”

  Walt continued to look out his window, and by the way he was rubbing the back of his neck, Bronwyn could tell he was somewhat skittish about venturing outside. Keeping his eyes closed, he pinched the bridge of his nose as if embarrassed by his next statement. “I hear there are a lot of eerie legends and folklore told about the Appalachians. They say these mountain people can call down curses on you and you’d never know it.”

  Just as expected, Karley mocked his jittery behavior. “You tryin’ to blame some poor mountain folk asleep in their beds for disabling our bus? The only people you need to blame for this mess is you for takin’ a wrong turn, and Wilbur Hogg for not puttin’ the money in this bus and fixin’ it when I told him to.”

  Walt shoved aside the accusations again.

  “All I’m saying is something kept us from plunging over the side to our death. I was definitely not in control. Believe me when I say it wasn’t me that stopped the bus.”

  The same feeling of impending doom that invaded Bronwyn earlier swept over her again. Walt still had not mentioned seeing the man in the road, and now his declaration made her believe that maybe she did actually see their guardian angel. But if that was true, then why did she feel such unrest?

  Walt continued his morbid warning. “All I am saying, is a person could bring a hex down upon themselves, venturing out alone, accidentally stumbling upon some kind of ancient, sacred ground.”

  Marcus sighed and Karley laughed. Bronwyn felt for Walt, sensing the anxiety rising inside him due to Marcus’s frustration. In spite of her premonition, she came to his rescue.

  “I’ll go with you, Walt.”

  He blushed. Everyone knew he adored her. She was his favorite among the troupe, so lovely, his definition of true natural beauty. Dark brunette hair contrasted her ivory skin as it fell past her shoulders, sweeping across her forehead and framing her deep emerald eyes that usually occupied a multitude of mischief. However, he, like everyone else, noticed she seemed to have drawn into herself lately. “You wouldn’t mind coming along?”

  She smiled. “Not at all.”

  Marcus stepped forward, needing a bit of reassurance before allowing a female member of the troupe to venture out into the forbidding darkness. “Are you sure?”

  She wasn’t sure, and had no idea why she volunteered to go, except for the disturbing feeling that something beyond her control was luring her away from the bus. In any case, she would give Marcus the excuse he needed. “Actually, I’m grateful for the chance to escape the stale air in here and stretch my legs. Walt’s right, there should be something up ahead. I’ll be fine.”

  Realizing it would be a futile effort to argue with the headstrong Bronwyn, Marcus relented. It was no secret that once Bronwyn made up her mind, it was hard to persuade her otherwise.

  Grabbing his flashlight from the small utility box, Walt opened the door and lit the path outside.

  The thick, humid air wrapped around them like a damp blanket as they stepped from the bus and into the dark night. A slight glow of moonlight escaped its lunar entrapment as a gust of wind blew, scattering the hovering clouds. The low rumble of thunder in the distance gave a subtle warning not to leave the protection of the bus. Despite the hot muggy air, a cold chill made its way up Bronwyn’s back. The eeriness of the night caused her to wonder if accompanying Walt had been a wise decision.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The cloaked figure pulled at the hood covering his head and peered out from behind the trees. There were too many of them, and that presented a problem. He never expected a bus load. How was he to know who was the one?

  He sniffed into the air; the brewing storm was proof they had re-opened the portal. The scent of rain hanging heavy in th
e air did not erase the stench of the shadows. They were infiltrating the woods in full force, and he sensed their presence. The foul smelling spies had no doubt alerted the enemy, and soon the forest would become a battleground.

  Revenge occupied his mind for years, and now the opportunity for setting things right presented itself. He had spilled blood before with no remorse. Tonight the rivers would run with blood, if need be.

  Glancing across the highway, he watched his men move through the trees. He’d given orders to guard the bus. The enemy disabled it, nearly sending it over the ravine; had Barak not intervened, the travelers would have plunged to their death. Since the enemy’s plan had been thwarted, they were sure to attack again. They would not rest until the one was dead, and since no one knew who it was, they would surely kill them all. Two of the passengers left the bus, and were on foot, heading toward Moonshine. He’d stay with them. They were the most vulnerable, neither one having any clue of the danger surrounding them. Besides, he recognized one of them. Dread filled his heart. Even though it had been almost six hundred years, he was sure she was the one they were searching for.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Bronwyn walked alongside Walt down the center of the narrow road, her fear of oncoming traffic dissipating, having realized no one was traveling on this forgotten highway. Walt mentioned he had not passed a single car the entire time he had been driving; this confirmed her suspicion, that he had indeed taken a wrong turn many miles back. There was no way of telling where they were, or how far off course they traveled.

  A sudden gust of wind blew from behind, giving her another intense chill, a warning that the impending storm was creeping closer. Walt shook the fading light in his hand. During the course of their walk, the beam gradually changed from a bright white, to a fading yellow glow. “I swear I replaced these batteries just last week.”