The Cult

by Mink, Jason

  "We'll know what to do when it's time," he'd said, unwilling to speak further. This seemed foolish to Baxter, who'd come an awfully long way for this encore and wasn't willing to blow it now. In spite of these misgivings he remained quiet, letting Daniel take the lead. He felt a lingering sense of resentment towards him, an anger balanced only by his indebtedness to the older man. Baxter had died; of that there was no question. Daniel had saved him from that death, brought him back for the final fight. For that Baxter had to be grateful but, at the same time, the idea he'd been denied his rightful end was a disconcerting one. When the time came would it be possible for him to truly die? Or would he be condemned to some eternal half-life, trapped on this side and forever unable to cross back over? Baxter found himself unable to ask these questions of the other man, though he felt he knew the answers. If Daniel didn't volunteer the information Baxter assumed the old man had his reasons. The knowledge might influence Baxter's actions unduly, cause him to act impulsively or lead him to pull back in a critical movement in a bid to preserve his new life. Perhaps not knowing was the best thing, after all.

  The dirt road widened, suddenly became blacktop beneath their wheels. Daniel never slowed, keeping the old truck arrow-straight. He sped down the highway, unmindful of slowing to the posted limit. There was no reason to worry. The road was barren, empty of vehicles save than their own.

  "Where are all the cars?" Baxter asked aloud.

  Daniel quickly glanced at him, then turned his attention back to the road. "I guess you wouldn't know," he said quietly.

  Baxter had to strain to hear his words over the noise of the truck.

  "Tull is in a bit of a crisis right now. Your friend Ashton had the wonderful idea of allowing Paq'q to incubate in a cavern beneath the manor. The thing is, that cavern connects to a series of naturally-occurring tunnels that run beneath the town. When he brought Paq'q over he needed a source of power, some sustenance to nurture Him while He gathered the strength to wake. James Ashton achieved this purpose by gassing Tull, filling the tunnels with the smoke of the Paq'qa. It's driven half the town mad and put the other in comas, and nobody even knows why."

  Baxter tried to swallow but his throat was suddenly dry. "So what's happening up there? I mean, the people…"

  Daniel shook his head. "It's bad. That's all you need to know."

  As he spoke the lights of Tull appeared in on the horizon. Even from a distance it was clear there was trouble in the town. The highway ahead was choked with traffic, cars and trucks stalled in both directions. Countless red and blue strobes pulsed among the neon; police cars, ambulances and fire-trucks were tiny toy-shapes that zipped up and down the highway and through the wide plaza parking-lots. From his open window Baxter thought he could hear gunshots.

  "How are we going to get through all of that?"

  "I know a way."

  Daniel sped up, taking a sharp right and guiding the truck down a small service road. It quickly grew dark, the glow of the halogen lamps left on the highway behind them. With only their headlights to show the way, Baxter expected Daniel to take it slow, but he continued to barrel along as if he were on an airport runway. There seemed to be an added urgency to his demeanor, as if he'd caught a glimpse of the Cosmic Watch and realized they were late, very very late.

  "It's an old logging road, cut through nearly a century ago. Ordinarily a cop would stop us but they're all busy up in town."

  This was a spot of luck for them, but clearly bad news for everyone else. Visions of what could be happening just a few miles off flashed through Baxter's mind, images of the pandemonium and limitless mayhem wrought by Paq'q's presence. Even in sleep He had the capacity to annihilate the residents of Tull, now that their minds had been winnowed open by the Paq'qa. The effect of the smoke would be overwhelming for any who'd not experienced it before, leaving all vulnerable and allowing Him access into the most intimate aspects of their being. Like a kid in a candy store Paq'q would go wild, gorging on the latent energies within the townsfolk. He would wrench forth their most potent experiences, their doubts and fears and parade them down Main Street, transforming first their minds and then, inevitably, their bodies. Paq'q would march them on to the next city, a sarabande of madness snaking its way across the country, with only the most obscene and distorted among them bearing His standard.

  Baxter searched for Daniel's face in the shadow. "If we stop it… what happens then?"

  Daniel did not reply. Baxter opened his mouth to speak again but then shut it. Like it or not he'd have all of the answers soon enough.

  ~*~

  "The time is nearly upon us." Ashton looked up at the vile immensity that filled the cavern before him and smiled. It pulsed with life, expanding with the passing of every moment. Through its semi-translucent skin Ashton could see color, texture, the countless finger-sized proteins that writhed blindly about the God-Thing's staggering musculature. He placed his hand upon the bulging surface and was stunned by the flood of sensations. So much. So full. Everything seemed to be within Him, an infinity of potential stretching out beyond the confines of Ashton's mind. In that moment he might have lost himself, had Paq'q not suddenly pushed his mind aside. It was a wrenching experience, one of great loss to Ashton and he staggered back, stunned. He felt his own body stir angrily, shifting beneath his ceremonial robe. Doing his best to compose himself he turned to the group. "We must retrieve the others."

  Adam looked at him skeptically. "How are we going to get the cripple down here?"

  Ashton smiled thinly. "You will carry him."

  Without waiting for an answer Ashton looked to Chloe. "Leave the child."

  Chloe nodded wordlessly, placing Sandy's unconscious form in a nearby alcove. Chloe pushed a strand of dark hair from the child's face and smiled. She looked so cute in her little black robe.

  "Metathias."

  Soundlessly the manservant detached himself from the shadow, stepping towards his master. Ashton stopped him with a hand, lifting the crystalline vessel from the old man's chest.

  "Odd."

  Adam drew close. "What's wrong with it?"

  "Nothing, I guess. It's just not as bright before." It dropped with a thunk against Metathias' chest. "A natural effect of His presence," Ashton said dismissively. But there was a note of caution in his voice, as if he didn't believe his own words. He turned and walked away and the others followed. They quickly ascended into the tunnels, eager to be about their work.

  At that exact moment Zak was tying Estelle to a big purple chair. She struggled weakly, more to make him feel guilty than anything.

  "You don't have to tie me up. I'm an old woman."

  She dropped these last two words on him with a guilty weight and Zak winced.

  "Look, I don't want to…"

  "I do," Annie said, stepping forward.

  Erica held her back. "C'mon, Zak. Let's go."

  Zak tested his knots.

  "Why did you have to make it so tight?" Estelle whined, staring up at him. He turned away from her disgusted; she didn't deserve his pity. He followed the women towards the exit but suddenly stopped.

  "Zak?"

  "Hold up a minute," he said, hurrying over to a set of shelves set in the west wall. The top shelf was just out of reach so he was forced to climb up on a step-stool. The effort was well worth it.

  "I don't fucking believe it," Zak whispered, still standing on the stool. He was staring into a small wooden box vaguely familiar to both Annie and Erica.

  "What is it? What are you looking at, Zak?"

  Zak hopped down and showed them the contents of the box. Within were a number of odd objects: a tiny astrolabe, a pile of oddly-angled, mirror-plated metal shapes, a hand-hammered brass bell as well as a bone-colored scroll case. Zak popped open the case and removed the curled parchment. He opened it for all to see.

  "That's the ritual… the last ritual we performed seven years ago." Annie looked at him curiously.

  "So? What can we do with it? Can we use it?"r />
  Zak shook his head. "Maybe, I don't know. None of it matters next to this."

  He held up a small, dirty pouch spotted with dried blood.

  "It's the Dadan artifact. We have it. We can stop them."

  Just then there was an appallingly wet commotion from behind them. Estelle had extricated herself from the ropes, but at great expense. In twisting herself free she had distorted her limbs beyond recognition. This contortion was a one-way process and her body bowed and fissured as she tried to force herself back into shape. She tried to lift her head but her neck would no longer support its weight. A ruptured wheeze that was either breathing or shrieking emanated from her hateful mouth. Zak was there to end it, firing a single bolt through the old woman's temple. Head pinned to the floor, the light quickly went out of her eyes, her body relaxing into a more natural state.

  "I hated to do that," Zak said dryly. He reloaded the bow, then pocketed the artifact."I'll keep this with me."

  "How does it work?" Annie asked intently. "What do you need to do to use it?"

  Zak took a moment to consider this. "Without Baxter here? I don't know. We can't disrupt the ritual the way we planned, but maybe there's another way."

  "How?"

  Zak hurried off without answering Annie's question.

  "Come on," Erica urged her. She had no choice to follow them. The three of them hurried down the hallway, Zak slightly ahead of the others. He rounded the corner, colliding with the surprised trio of Ashton, Adam and Metathias.

  "RUN!"

  Zak discharged the bolt. Somehow Metathias managed to step between it and Ashton, taking the shot meant for his master. It lodged deep between the second and third rib on his left hand side, just missing the heart. Taking advantage of this momentary surprise Zak reached out and caught the back edge of a high, wide curio cabinet. He tipped it forward and it fell between he and Ashton's group with a immense crash. With that he ran, heading back towards the study.

  "PAN!" came a cry of rage from somewhere close behind. Ashton realized Zak had deceived him; there would be no reasoning with him now, no breaks or bluffing for more time. The shit had officially hit the fan.

  THEN

  It woke him, forcing his comatose mind into a more conscious state. With a thought it pried open his eyes, lifted Baxter into a sitting position. Baxter shifted, tried to turn away, but found his body unresponsive to his will. All he could do was stare into the face of the fungal enormity, could only watch as it mocked and leered at him.

  "Ah, Baxter! I see you're the first to meet tonight's special guest."

  It was Ashton, with Adam and Chloe. He strode purposefully into the parlor, placing a hand upon the edge of the mantle. With the other he gestured with a flourish.

  "Brothers, Sister, may I introduce Mr. Clautney Iris."

  In that moment Baxter could see the thing as he once was. The remains of a man mutated, subsumed into a mammoth tumorous distension, trapped within the ruins of a body perverted beyond nature, now irretrievably bound into a landscape of shifting malignancy. What foul deal had the Mage made, to preserve his pitiful life? What had he sold that he might exist in this deplorable form, alive only to feed off of the psychic waste of others? It was impossible to say; there was too much to his mind, too many dark corners and not enough light. All Baxter knew was that the entity before him was abomination, an utter corruption of all Life was meant to be and that he was powerless in the face of it.

  "What the fuck?" Adam said, repulsed. "James, what the hell is that thing?"

  Ashton looked like he wanted to slap the bigger man but instead he smiled. "This is the form Master Iris was forced to assume after the… unfortunate events of Nineteen forty-seven. While his body may be less than appealing to our limited perceptions he is now a remarkably versatile and long-lived organism. The first of many, I'm proud to say."

  He walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a generous scotch. While Ashton took the unspeakable atrocity before him in stride, the others seemed to have a harder time with it. Chloe seemed especially put out, unable to even look in its direction. Adam was incredulous, unwilling to accept Ashton's statement.

  "I just… I can't believe…"

  Ashton slapped him hard. "Yes. Yes you can. Now don't be rude. Introduce yourselves."

  Adam goggled at Ashton, eyes wide and mouth agape. It was the sort of thing Baxter would have found funny, had he not been stunned into senselessness. Unable to stir he could only watch as Adam stepped forward and bowed before the distended presence. It hissed at the man with its toothless maw, rejecting his meager attempts at appeasement.

  "Master, please," Ashton petitioned, "he is one of faith. He has earned his place in the circle."

  All gathered knew this to be untrue and the thing within the panel rumbled angrily.

  Chastened, Ashton bowed. "I am sorry." He gestured Chloe forward. She was unwilling, going only after Ashton threatened her with a glare.

  "I am Sister Zephyr," she said, eyes averted. "I am ever in your service."

  She curtsied, which was a nice touch. Iris took to her readily, making a hellacious purring sound deep within its shell. It was all Chloe could do not to run from the room screaming, her smile stretched past its breaking point. The thing was already expanding, to inhabit a space within her mind. It went into each of them, staking its claim, laying waste to that part of them that still resisted His wishes.

  "Don't fight him," Ashton said through clenched teeth. "He only wishes to help us, to pave the way for Paq'q's reign. Let him into your mind, that he may make ready the soil for the seed. Let him change you as he has been changed, remade to serve our Lord."

  "No!" It was Chloe, backing out of the room. "I will not be like that! I won't become a… a fungus!"

  Something happened then, Chloe's resistance breaking the connection between Iris and the others. Adam stepped back, while Ashton fell forward; Baxter slumped to the floor, awareness at last returned to his anesthetized mind. He forced his body to move, dragging himself on his belly towards the exit.

  "Stop, you fools!" Ashton cried, reaching out. "Don't reject Him now, when the hour is at last at hand!"

  Zak and Annie stepped into the room then, further adding to the confusion.

  "My God!" Annie cried out in loathing. She swayed, fainted dead away into Zak's arms.

  Ashton rushed forward, hands in the air. "Wait! All of you, please just wait!"

  And then they were elsewhere, all of them back again at the ruined temple. The sky above them blazed, Paq'q's presence now inflamed with rage. Ashton turned desperately on the group. "I beg you, please! Do not forsake Him!"

  They turned to one another, in that moment at last understanding the scope of the power which confronted them. As one they answered, their voices reverberating through the void.

  "We reject you!"

  There was a sudden eruption in the crust beneath their feet, a detonation which rent the world apart. The seven were flung away, were lost in the surging maelstrom which rose up to claim them.

  NOW

  The old truck coasted to a stop, rolling into the darkness at the bottom of the hill. Daniel pulled the keys from the ignition, then turned to Baxter. "We walk from here."

  The two men stepped from the vehicle and into the silence of the night. They ascended the wooded hillside, Daniel leading the way. Baxter looked around nervously, wondering if there were any more of Ashton's sentries about. He'd told the older man of his previous encounters the monstrous crow earlier, over a sparse dinner.

  "Well, if we don't succeed tonight expect much more, much worse," was all Daniel had said. He hadn't even brought along his father's shotgun, leading them unarmed into a conflict they had little hope of winning. Though worried, Baxter said nothing, following the old man's vague shape through the near-blackness of the wood. The smells of the forest were surprisingly soothing to his jangled nerves; the rotting leaves, the dew-damp bark of the trees, the sweetly-clean scent of outside the breeze broug
ht to them. He wished he could just stop, lie down and bury himself, that he might seek the peace that had been so recently denied him. It was all he wanted, Baxter discovered. To lay himself down and rest as the summer had, to vanish first beneath a fall of rich color and then, in turn, a dense blanket of smothering white. A sense of loss dogged him, the memory of something that was nearly his, as real as the sky above him and yet intangible as dream.

  "Hey, I just realized something," Baxter whispered to the man a head of him. Daniel stopped and turned.

  "What?"

  "When I died. I didn't meet anybody. No angels or devils or anything."

  Shea said nothing, simply looking at him.

  "I mean, I didn't see God."

  Daniel put his hand upon the younger man's shoulder. "Be glad of that."

  Daniel continued to lead them up the hill. They were perhaps halfway there now, following the remains of a path Baxter could not have found in the daytime. It was clear that, in the last few years Daniel had become as familiar with this land as his father once was. He navigated over the fallen trees and around the jagger-bushes with a grace Baxter could not hope to ape, moving quickly up the challenging terrain. He paused more than once for his youthful companion, doing his best not to show his frustration. Baxter was aware of it anyway, in the same way he knew that their time was nearly up. He struggled on, reaching the top of the slope in short order.

  "What's the best way in?" Shea whispered, hidden in the shadow.