He Who Follows

Roman Shaws day begins like any other in the little town of West Bay, Milligan. Yet soon after he opens his bar to his regulars and prepares for a rush of eager customers, a disshevelled young woman stumbles in. At first, Roman thinks she is a prostitute and demands she leave. But after India Tyler insists she remembers nothing of the previous night or how she got there, Roman opens his heart and decides to help her. After Roman takes her to the legendary Milligan Castle she now calls home, India discovers that she and her friend, Wendy, were gang raped the night before in the town park. Later that night, India begins having foretelling nightmares about an evil presence. As a chain of frightening events begins to unfold, India soon realizes that three nineteenth-century witch sisters have placed a curse on her simply because she bought their property and is not part of their family tree. Can the witches be stopped? Or is it too late for all of the human race? He Who Follows shares the horrific tale of a young Australian womans dark journey through an unknown evil after she learns she has been cursed by three nineteenth-century witches.

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He Who FollowsBy Kerry Christine VrossinkBalboa PressCopyright © 2017 Kerry Christine VrossinkAll rights reserved.ISBN: 978-1-5043-1147-2CHAPTER 1Roman Shaw stood behind the bar he owned and had run for the past thirty years. Almost 60 he still looked mid to late 40's since the hands of time had touched him more gracefully than most others. Grey only slightly menaced the temples amidst his thick dark hair and the only wrinkles on his strong tanned face were small laughter lines tickling the edges of his deep green eyes. Handsome couldn't quite define his features, more like the rugged Adonis type. Of course no-one can be that perfect without some small flaw, and unfortunately for Roman his height let him down, standing only 5'6 and ever so slightly overweight. Still he had no shortage of women when he wanted them; however marriage and 'The One' had still to find their way to his heart.The day had started as normal, and since he lived in one of the upstairs rooms the bar had opened at 10:00am on the dot. Gordon Mears and Patrick Fellows were waiting on the front bench where they waited every morning for Roman to open and no doubt where they would sit for their last cigarette before making their way home, one step forward and two back, at 10:00pm. Both men one can only guess were 70 plus, were widowed and lived next door to each other in the retirement village around the corner, where they spent almost every waking hour together marking time before they could join their wives. It was very sad to imagine they had nothing left in this life other than waiting to die and blotting out the day with alcohol until each day ran into the next.Roman smiled and gestured them inside, "morning gents" as they stood, but they only acknowledged with a nod. Th is was normal and since they spent the entire twelve hours in relative silence, to hear them speak would be a shock to the system. He remembered back when they first started coming many years ago and he made the mistake of asking why they didn't talk to each other or anyone else for that matter. Patrick had replied without lifting his eyes from his glass "We speak when we have something to say. No good talking just for the sake of it! People who natter on for no good reason are a pain in the butt, they're mostly speaking crap anyways and does nothing more than bore everyone to death! We've known each other for near on fifty years, through Korea and Vietnam; we met and married our wives in The States on the same day, and have always lived next door to each other no matter where ever since." He paused for a drink and Roman turned thinking he was done, but he soon learned different, "We know all there is about each other, we know what we're thinking and what we're going to say next. We know what we each had for breakfast, lunch and dinner without asking and we know when to speak and when not to, and....."Roman put his hands up as though someone was holding a gun at his head, "Ok, Ok, I get it.... sorry for asking," and other than "morning gents" every day he had said nothing more since.The two old men sat in their regular chairs at the bar, and Roman poured the usual, two pints and placed a small bowl of peanuts in front of them. They nodded their thanks and sat there staring at their wrinkled complexion through the mirrored shelves, amidst the bottles of cocktail mixers.Roman glanced at the old clock above the double doors; 10:30, Raelene his cook should've been here by now, usually she is only in minutes after the doors open. Being a small coastal town, there is not much call for a restaurant so to speak, but Raelene Morton his lets just say, 'friend with benefits' comes in every day and does lunches for him, usually toasted sandwiches, hamburgers, fish and chips just simple meals, but his regulars look forward to them and today being Friday, the Brewery way up on Lakeview Road, closes early and you can be sure nearly all the staff will be in for lunch, and since they can't drink there it's always mostly a liquid lunch with a side of something edible. It's been that way since old man Mackie passed away and left the Brewery to his son and daughter Roland and April years ago. These two upstarts (as they are more commonly known) are somewhat party animals and declared cocktail hour commence at noon every Friday, much of course to the delight of their staff . Surprisingly however, since then the Brewery has had less staff turnover, higher profits and a lot happier workers. The phone rang breaking into his thoughts, he answered and his worst fears were confirmed "Hi honey, sorry it's such late notice, but I won't be in today, got a terrible sore throat and don't want to risk contaminating the food with any bugs.""Yeah, no worries love, get better soon" Roman replied, mad has hell but what could he do, after all she was right, if whatever germs she had spread around he would have no business at all. "Gees, what am I going to do" he said out loud running his hands through his hair. He approached Gordon and Patrick and leaned over the bar "Don't suppose you two chaps would be interested in running the kitchen for a few hours today?"They stared at him, and then turned to each other, eyes expressionless and mouth puckering slightly in a smile of sorts. Roman sighed, "No I didn't think so." He poured them another drink, recorded it on their tab and began flipping through his personal phone book. This really was a useless exercise, since it only contained four numbers, one being Raelene and the other three were numbers of women he had dated long ago, who had now all married and moved away from the little town of West Bay, Milligan population 2200, correction soon to be 2201 when Phillipa Sanders has her baby in a couple of months. He closed the book and thought "Oh well, I'll just have to send them over to Freddie's bar." This move was really going to hurt, since Freddie and Roman had been arch enemies since, well, for as long as he could remember. The sad thing was, he couldn't actually remember why. And yet every time they saw each other in a store, they'd take a different aisle and pretend they hadn't seen each other, pathetic really, but since both were as stubborn as each other that was the way it would remain until one or the other decided to apologise, and since neither remembered what to apologise for, it was likely to never happen. "Freddie's going to love this, I can just see him gloating now" he continued the conversation in his head. Picking up the phone, he thought it was only the 'right thing to do' to give him notice, so he could warn his cook and be prepared. He had pushed two digits before replacing the receiver, "Stuff him, I'm not going to make it that easy" he decided.An hour or so lapsed and Roman was preparing himself for the rush of eager customers that he was about to send away, when she walked in. Early to mid thirties, long dirty blonde hair, around 5'4, slim, almost attractive in a rustic kind of way, bare feet, frayed jeans and a red T shirt in great need of a wash.Originally coming to Western Australia from Sydney, Roman knew a prostitute when he saw one. Oh yes sir-re he had been to the Cross many, many times and if this young woman wasn't a hooker he would close up shop and start walking East right now. She approached him swaying slightly; he could smell alcohol and sex and felt disgusted at the very sight of her. It was all he could do to not grab her by the seat of her jeans and throw her out the door.Sitting in the chair next to Gordon, she now appeared disorientated or was he mistaking that for blind drunk. "I'm sorry Miss, but it appears to me you've had one too many and I'm obliged under the law to refuse you any further alcohol, and must insist you leave this establishment immediately." He'd always wanted to say that, but had never had the need."What?" she asked."I think you heard me miss, but if you really want me to repeat it, I think....""No I heard you" she interrupted, "You don't understand, I haven't had anything to drink, I don't drink. I woke up in the park, and I don't know how I got there, or how long I've been there. I just need a glass of water.....please, sir can you just give me a glass of water?"Roman looked into her blue/grey eyes that were welling with tears, he could definitely smell beer, but now come to think of it, it seemed to be more on her clothes than her breath, and those big eyes veiling with water, looked almost glassy. "Have you taken anything miss, any kind of drugs?" She shook her head, "No I don't use drugs either. I don't understand what's happening to me. Am I dreaming?Yes that must be it, this is a dream. I have to wake up now." Closing her eyes tightly she continued to tell herself to wake up."I'm sorry miss, I don't know what's happened to you, but you're not dreaming." He placed a large tumbler of ice water in front of her, "Here's your water, can I get you anything else; do you need a Doctor, or perhaps there is someone I can call?""No, thank you. If I could just sit here a while and gather my thoughts?""Sure" then a thought came to him, "I live upstairs, would you like to go up and take a shower. I don't have any women's clothes, but I have a track suit that would fit, loosely, but it will keep you warm, and perhaps the nice hot water flowing over your head, may help you to remember?" Th at sounded a little dramatic, but he meant it with kind intentions."Actually that sounds like a good idea, thank you very much, but" she hesitated for a second her mind obviously going to a second thought, "For some reason I feel I shouldn't. Oh darn it, thank you I will accept you're most kind offer." As she stood up, she extended her hand "My name is India Tyler."He shook her hand, "Roman Shaw. It's a pleasure India. Just take the stairs over there and turn to your right at the top. You can't miss the room; it's the only one with the door open. The clothes are in the second drawer of the dresser and the bathroom is across the hall. You'll find fresh towels in the cupboard in the bathroom. Soap, shampoo, conditioner are all on the bench."She nodded and disappeared up the stairs. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror as she undressed, India noticed some bruising on her thighs and breasts. Th is was strange as she couldn't recall having a fall and made a mental note to ask Wendy if she knew how this occurred.When she came down twenty minutes later, she looked completely diff erent and he realised she was not just almost attractive, but indeed exceedingly so, and her childlike innocence especially in the oversize track suit made him want to take into his arms and squeeze her in a comforting hug. His thoughts were broken at that moment as the sound of the knock off bell rang high above his pub at the brewery. "Well here we go.""Sorry Roman, did you say something?" she asked."No dear, not to you anyway, to myself. The brewery up the hill just knocked off and usually most of the staff head here for lunch and a few drinks, but unfortunately my cook called in sick so I'm in the position of having to send my customers over to my arch rival's pub for lunch, and, I can tell you ...that is going to hurt.""Oh dear that is a dilemma. Is that the lunch menu?" she asked pointing to the blackboard on the wall.Roman nodded, "and dinner. The only difference with dinner is we have steak chips and salad as well."India smiled exposing a set of perfect white teeth, "Well in that case I think I can help you. I can cook a little and it's not really hard doing sandwiches and hamburgers, and I used to help out at the fish and chip shop in Port Denison when I was there a few years ago. I have nothing else to do today; well I don't think I do at least, so I can be your cook for the day. What do you think?""Are you sure, I don't want to take advantage.""Don't be ridiculous Roman, look how kind you've been to me, a perfect stranger walking in to your establishment looking like, well God only knows. Honestly it would be a pleasure," she assured.CHAPTER 2Lunch service finished at 2:00pm, however by the time India had finished cleaning up the kitchen it was time to prepare for dinner. Fortunately there weren't too many hanger ons and she had everything spick and span and put away by 9:30pm.Roman was overjoyed with the result; not only had this young woman stepped in and rescued what could have been a disastrous event not just financially, but quite possibly the end of his business. Being such a small town, there really were only the two pubs that you could class as central to the main shopping village. Naturally there were others but they were on the outskirts and quite a distance from the core of the population, meaning if Roman sent his patrons to Freddie's bar there was the great risk they would continue to frequent his venue leaving him out in the cold and so far, fingers crossed, he hadn't had to for quite a few years now.Plus India had included a few extras, only simple things such as savoury omelette, quiche Lorraine and a choice of grilled, pan fried or beer battered fish, (as opposed to just battered fish) however, the result was so unexpected with several patrons ordering seconds, he was over the moon and knew for certain he would have to keep them on the menu, which he also knew Raelene would not be happy about since she didn't like change, but too bad. Hell even Gordon and Patrick commented, and that in itself is something mind blowing.India sat down and sighed, "Wow that was fun! It gave me a real rush, especially when I was getting second orders.""You have no idea how happy you've made me. Th at was the best service I've ever had, and I mean ever had since opening this place thirty years ago. The comments on your cooking were phenomenal, and to be honest, I didn't realise such a simple menu could actually taste different with a diff erent cook."India looked surprised "Well that makes two of us."He stared at her in deep thought for a moment, "I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume you aren't currently employed in which case; would you consider taking on the job full time? I realise this is coming from second base, I mean Raelene has been working for me for many years, but she doesn't like change, and after this I realise in order to compete that's exactly what I have to do. I actually had several customers book a table for next Friday for lunch and dinner and I have never had a booking before, ever! Even though I haven't counted my takings yet, I know it will be double that of every other week. What to do you say ... please ...?"She smiled "No I don't have a job" then giggled, "well I don't think I do anyway; but I don't know Roman. I'm really pleased it went so well for you but putting Raelene out of a job after so many years just doesn't seem right, but, if you like, what I could do his teach her the new dishes, which in plain English are as simple as, and I'm sure she could do it just as well as I can."He shook his head, "you don't understand honey, Raelene is a creature of habit, and she simply doesn't like change. For example she leaves cash under the mattress since she doesn't believe in banks. She won't have a credit card; everything she buys has to be in cash, no such thing as 'Terms'. You know what I mean, things like that. She's 63 so I guess at her age it's hard to accept change and much easier to simply carry on the way she has all her life. Plus she's not the fastest cook in the world – God love her – I really don't mean to disrespect her, but she has been cooking the same food since she started and that's just the way she likes it."When India sighed and turned away Roman was suddenly aware of how selfish he was being, "Oh good Lord, what an arse I am. Sorry honey, here's me rambling on trying to convince you to work for me when you've got mega problems of your own." Holding her hand he asked gently "Has anything come back to you, do you remember where you live?""Oh I remember everything about my life, I don't have amnesia or anything, it's just" she hesitated for a couple of seconds "well frankly its just last night I don't remember." India sighed again and cupped her head with her hands, "I remember going to my girlfriends' house on Spokane Lane. It's just around the corner from me, so I walked there. Then I remember her boyfriend Billy came over with a few of his mates and then after that ... nothing ... until I woke up in the park this morning." One thing she neglected to reveal was that for some unknown reason she was very sore 'down there'. (Continues...)Excerpted from He Who Follows by Kerry Christine Vrossink. Copyright © 2017 Kerry Christine Vrossink. Excerpted by permission of Balboa Press. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

About the Author

Kerry Christine Vrossink lives in the small coastal town of Mandurah, Western Australia, with her husband and three sons. Writing has been her passion ever since high school. He Who Follows is her debut novel.

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