Until... | Book 3 | Until The End

by Hamill, Ike

  “Just tell me what you’re going to get.”

  “Fish chowder.”

  “You said no seafood.”

  “It’s an acquired taste.”

  Mary joined them and handed Amber an envelope.

  Amber furrowed her brow at the cash inside.

  “For last night’s labor.”

  “Oh,” Amber said. “Let’s call it even. You’ve been so generous with your hospitality.”

  Mary wouldn’t reach for the envelope when Amber tried to hand it across.

  “I’ll put it towards lunch then,” Amber aid.

  Mary nodded at that.

  “Speaking of last night,” George said, “could you tell any difference today?”

  “How do you mean?”

  Amber realized that she had reached up to touch the back of her head as she asked.

  “Some people that I read about say that it feels like there was a weight lifted from them. They didn’t even realize that they were carrying it around. This thing has been with you since you were a little kid, right? I thought maybe you could sense something different.”

  Amber shook her head.

  “Well, give it time,” Mary said.

  Ruth came up to take their order. Amber settled on the grilled cheese, despite George’s warning. Mary asked who was in the kitchen. Satisfied with the answer, she ordered shepherd’s pie. George ended up matching Amber’s order with a wink to her.

  “We’ll suffer together,” George said while Ruth was still standing there.

  Amber looked away, embarrassed for Ruth and George, and herself, for that matter.

  “It’s okay,” Ruth said. “Everyone knows the food is no good. That’s not why people come.”

  “Some things are very good,” Mary said.

  Ruth flashed her a smile before she left.

  “I think it definitely worked on Dr. Hugs,” George said. “I could tell right away that the thing was gone. Could just be placebo effect, I suppose, but I’ve been sensing that thing looming for a week. It was good to be quit of it.”

  “How could you do that to Dr. Hugs?” Mary said, frowning at her son.

  “Which part?” George asked.

  “I’m not clear as to why you think the same ceremony would work for both things though,” Amber said.

  George turned up his hands. “Same exact type of thing, from what I can tell. They might manifest differently, but that’s only because the folklore around each was developed independently. One was a malevolent helper type of form, and the other was a revenge curse. That distinction colors the expression of the entity, but really it’s just different shades of the exact same thing.”

  Mary shook her head and pointed at her son. “Don’t you think it’s a little convenient that Amber shows up with a problem while you’re currently dealing with the exact same problem?”

  “Nope,” George said. He took a sip from his water and smiled.

  “I’m with your mom,” Amber said. “It feels pretty convenient.”

  “Yeah, but why are you here in the first place?” George asked her.

  “Why am I here? For an unrelated reason. I came to help your brother with the lizard…”

  Amber lowered her voice when Ruth came to drop off their drinks.

  When Ruth was gone, Amber finished.

  “The weird lizard vampire things are why I came, not because of the demon.”

  “But why were you involved with the lizard vampire things?” George asked. “You and my brother have those in common, but it’s probably because of the other thing you have in common, which was his blood demon and your house demon. You were both touched by this other realm. We all were for that matter. So if we assume that the vampires are attracted to that touch, then everything makes perfect sense.”

  Amber sat back in her seat and unfolded her napkin.

  “I don’t know,” Amber said. “Feels like circular logic. You’re proving each thing with the other.”

  “Maybe,” George said, turning up his hands. “Time will tell, right?”

  # # #

  Amber pulled halfway up the driveway and paused, looking up at the house. It as just as Alan had described, but she still wasn’t ready for it. The white farmhouse looked enormous, perched up on the little hill when she first saw it. Then, when she started up the driveway, she saw the long shed that connected the house to a red barn that was so huge it looked three houses would fit inside it. Until she saw Alan, coming through the shed door waving to her, she almost wanted to turn around and leave.

  “Swing over there, would you?”

  Amber turned the wheel and parked near a screened in building that was called “The Cookhouse” according to the sign over the door.

  Alan stood with his hands on his hips, smiling.

  “So? What do you think of spring in Maine?” he asked.

  Amber raised her eyebrows and glanced around at the giant, dirty piles of snow that were melting in the cool sun.

  “Beautiful.”

  Alan laughed. “Come on inside.”

  He led her through the shed door and Amber was reminded of another house. When she had moved up to take care of her Uncle Bill’s estate, the neighbor down the road had a similar shed connecting the house to the barn. It was easy to understand why when she saw how much snow was piled up outside—who would want to slog through a mountain of snow to do barn chores every morning?

  Alan opened the door and she entered into a cozy kitchen. The cabinets were finished in blond maple and had a kind of rural class to them. Amber took the chair that Alan offered.

  “What can I get you to drink?”

  “Just a water, I guess. We had lunch over at the Grill.”

  “Oh,” he said, nodding. “Sorry to hear that.”

  Amber laughed. “Everyone kept warning me, but I didn’t think the food was that bad. My sandwich was a little dry maybe. Not bad though.”

  “It’s the worst place we all still go. Would you rather have a terrible restaurant that’s open all winter or none at all. Those are the only two choices, apparently.”

  Amber shrugged.

  Alan delivered water for her. He sat down with a can of soda.

  “So? What brings you to Maine?”

  Amber sighed and folded her hands around her glass.

  “Things just got… I don’t know, messy I guess down there. I got the house cleaned up and ready for the market. Plus, I figured you guys might need my help.”

  “How much did Ricky tell you about the interviews we’ve been doing?”

  “Very little,” Amber said. “I heard a bit about some guy who was the only survivor of a suicide cult.”

  Alan nodded. “Believe it or not, I think that crazy hermit was the most sane person we’ve talked to. After him, Ricky got a tip that there’s a connection to this other group. They worship some imaginary power that supposedly organizes everything in the universe. We went up to try to talk to some of the members, but nobody was home. Then, we were poking around the little settlement near there and it seemed like everyone we talked to was a believer. It was surreal.”

  “And connected to the creatures that came after us?” Amber asked.

  “Great question—who knows?” Alan said with a laugh. “We went to see the hermit because of the creatures that attacked his cult and then we followed the thread to the Orgone people. Ricky says that ninety-nine percent of detective work is eliminating false leads. If that’s true, then we have a long road ahead of us.”

  Amber sat back and folded her arms across her chest.

  “I know that look,” Alan said. “Liz has that same look when I try to talk to her about this stuff. You’re getting close to fed up with all this. You’re ready to throw in the towel and just stay away from weddings and mountain hotels for the rest of your life.”

  Amber smiled.

  “Actually, it’s almost the exact opposite,” she said. “I’m not going to bother with skepticism. I tried that and it came back twice as hard to bi
te me. In fact, I’ve tried that a couple of times in my life. I think I’m reinvesting in the idea that it’s possible to get back to a clean slate. If we can just figure out this one thing, maybe we don’t have to hide anymore.”

  Alan glanced around his kitchen and then looked back to Amber.

  “There’s always something to hide from.”

  “Okay,” Amber said. “Maybe that’s true. My point is just that I’m back here and I’m determined to figure things out. What’s our next step?”

  Alan leaned back and folded his arms too.

  “Well, that’s a good question. I’ve been mostly letting Ricky lead the investigation, but there are one or two things that I haven’t been able to talk him into. He’s an extremely careful individual.”

  “From what I gather, he and his family have seen some dark things.”

  “We all have,” Alan said.

  She nodded.

  “What kinds of things are you talking about?”

  “You want to go for a walk?” Alan asked.

  “Sure.”

  “What size shoe do you wear?”

  # # #

  Amber grabbed a tree to steady herself. The woods around them were mysterious and beautiful, but Amber didn’t have any time to look at them. Her focus was on her feet as she tried to lift her foot without stepping on one snowshoe with the other.

  “Joe fell flat on his face every three minutes the first time he tried snowshoes. By the second day, he was running,” Alan said. “You’ll get it.”

  “No thanks,” Amber said. “Where I’m from, we don’t have much need for this skill.”

  “Just wait,” he said.

  It was easier to walk when she proceeded right behind him, letting her snowshoes fall right into the prints that Alan left behind. The trail was somewhat packed, but the snow under them felt untrustworthy. It was too warm out. The integrity was gone. She lost track of how long they walked. When Alan stopped, she stopped right behind him, looking down at his heels and breathing hard.

  “Here,” he said, stepping to the side.

  Amber saw the lake. She had already seen it from a different angle when she was at the Grill, but this was totally different. This portion of the body of water was like a gem set in the middle of snow and barren trees. It was beautiful and full of serene power.

  “Maine has a number of places like this,” Alan said. His voice was just above a whisper. The reverent tone felt right for the setting. “I don’t think Ricky really sees it since he grew up here. Do you sense it?”

  Amber nodded. She assumed he meant the natural power. It was like a poorly hidden secret, just under the surface of the water.

  “The area where the hermit lives is like that, and I definitely understand why those Orgone people think they’ve found the organizing force of the universe. It’s like the landscape has an intention of some kind. The woods are guarding a secret.”

  Amber nodded again. He was expressing what she was feeling.

  “My wife wondered aloud how those vampires could be so contagious and yet they haven’t taken over the world yet. I would bet that they need this power. They can only operate in this region.”

  “No,” Amber said. “That might be why they’re from here, but one of them hitchhiked down to Virginia in my trunk.”

  “Huh,” Alan said. His eyes narrowed as he considered this new information. “So I guess I don’t have all the answers, but I have a strong suspicion.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I think I know where the center of their power is, and I think we still have a couple of weeks to find it. Ricky’s methodical investigation might get us there eventually, but I think we need to take a leap if we want to get to them before they wake up. They won’t hibernate forever.”

  Amber thought about that for a minute. She trusted Ricky more than Alan. Maybe it was because he was so methodical. Ricky represented safety.

  “I’m not saying we do this behind his back. I haven’t brought it up with him yet, because I’m pretty sure that he would be against it, so I didn’t see the point. It’s not something that I can do alone. I’m thinking that we…”

  “Okay,” Amber said.

  Alan didn’t respond.

  “I said okay.”

  “Yeah. Okay,” he said.

  “When do we start?”

  Alan stammered at first. “In the morning, I guess? After Joe leaves for school.”

  Fifteen: Alan

  “Research, Alan,” Liz said. “We agreed on research—libraries, maybe an interview or two.”

  “This is research,” he said. “And we agreed that we’re going to disagree on the safety of this endeavor, but you relented. Technically, I only have to inform you after the fact.”

  They were in the kitchen. They liked to have all their discussions in the kitchen because it was farthest away from Joe’s room. Liz was practiced at keeping a measured tone even when she was in a full-blown argument. Alan wasn’t as trained in maintaining a low volume.

  “But you didn’t,” Liz said. “You brought this up purposely before you were planning on going because you wanted to, what? You wanted me to talk you out of it? You wanted to absolve yourself of the inevitable chaos you’re going to bring into the house?”

  She didn’t say “again.” That word was implicit in a lot of her sentences, but she was careful to never say it aloud. Behind her every point was the implicit accusation that he had been to blame for their earlier troubles, regardless of how absurd that notion was. It wasn’t his fault that they had moved into her family house. Alan didn’t want to get into that argument again. Liz sometimes used those side arguments as a way to completely bypass what Alan wanted to talk about.

  “None of the above,” Alan said. “I brought this up because you’re smart and insightful. Granted, my confidence is not at one-hundred percent. How could it be? I’ve told you about the interviews and you know as much as I do. If you have a solid reason why this is a bad idea, then I want to hear it. I want you to help me not make a mistake.”

  Liz sighed and looked at the floor.

  “You’ll leave at least a two-hour margin after sunrise and before sunset?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You’ll have a backup plan for getting out of there?”

  “Cross-country skis and snowshoes. Never venturing more than two miles from the car.”

  “Backup for the car?”

  “I guess I could ask Amber to follow me so we have two vehicles.”

  “Do it. Make sure you both have your phones fully charged and backup batteries for them.”

  “I’m not certain cellphones will be in range there.”

  Liz looked up at the clock. “Then you have forty-five minutes to get over to Walmart. They have those satellite messaging GPSs. Get two.”

  Alan looked up at the clock and frowned. She was right—the Walmart was open until eleven, but he would get there with only a few minutes to spare and it would be embarrassing to race through the store to try to find someone to show him where the fancy GPSs were stored.

  “Alan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t pretend to ask for my advice if you’re not going to take it.”

  “Right. I’ll be back.”

  He grabbed his keys and jacket and jogged through the shed.

  # # #

  Alan pulled over to the side of the road and Amber came to a stop behind him. He rolled down his window to wave her around—they would need room to get the snowmobile off the trailer.

  He took a deep breath before he opened his door. If he was completely honest with himself, Liz had been right the first time. He had wanted her to talk him out of this idea.

  Amber came jogging up to his door as he got out. Hopping from foot to foot, she already looked cold.

  Alan pointed. “You have anything else to put on?”

  “I’m already sweating. I don’t want to get too hot.”

  He nodded.

  “It’s go
ing to be colder out there. Once we’re in the shadows, you would be surprised. Let’s add some layers. What else do you have?”

  Amber went back to the rear of her vehicle and he joined her there as she opened it up. He had been through the same routine with Joe a million times. No matter how often he came home with frozen fingers and toes, Joe always refused to dress appropriately.

  “This hat is good.”

  “Ricky’s mom made me bring it.”

  “It’s breathable, but warm. Use that with this windbreaker on top. You can double the hoods. Bring these goggles too. I know it doesn’t seem like you’ll need them, but you would be surprised.”

  “You keep saying that. I think you’re overestimating my capacity for surprise.”

  “I’m not from here either. I’ve learned all this stuff the hard way. Trust me,” Alan said.

  He made her change her boots too, but that was mostly because Liz’s boots would fit the snowshoes better. Amber had just worn them the day before.

  “Okay?” he asked.

  “I’m hot.”

  “Good. Unzip everything you can and you’ll be cold in no time.”

  Alan backed the snowmobile off the trailer and then made sure everything was locked up. They both tested the satellite messaging one more time.

  He unfolded a paper map on the seat of the snowmobile.

  “The trail crosses the road back there,” he said, pointing, “and then it follows the train tracks all the way to the Canadian border. We’re going to try to cover ten miles today, but we’ll do it in two-mile chunks.”

  “Can’t the snowmobile go a lot farther than that?”

  “Yes, but we’re not going to count on it. If something goes wrong and we have to hike out, I want to be guaranteed that we can do it before dark.”

  Amber nodded. “You’re more careful than I thought.”

  “That’s not going to be a problem, is it?”

  “No. I’m fine with that,” she said.

  “Have you ever ridden on the back of a motorcycle?” he asked, handing her a helmet. Amber had to remove her hat to put it on.

  “Once? Not far though.”