by Jordan, G R
The blood pumped hard around his body and he forced himself to breathe in a controlled and measured way, focusing on the first bracken to be struck aside. Not once did he turn to look at the scene behind him, as he knew that any slowing of the pace would have the horde on him without protection on any flank. Ten metres to go and Havers was swinging his arm to clear the bracken when he heard the wind whoosh above him. What was that? To look would be folly so he merely swished the air above him and dived into the bracken.
As his feet left the ground in the dive, he felt talons rip into his shoulders. The claws sunk in beside his rotator cuffs and he was carried up into the air. Whatever creature it was went into an almost vertical climb before turning back towards where Havers had run from. Captain Smith was laughing. The creature swooped and dropped Havers from six feet up, causing him to clatter hard into the ground. Despite this, Havers turned his messy fall into a forward roll and was just rising up from the ground when he was caught on the chest by a large boot. It pinned him to the floor and a cutlass with a pointed tip was placed in the middle of his face.
“And we’ll take the life from this one too,” laughed the captain.
Breathless and bruised, Havers lay back knowing that for the moment he was trapped. But his mind was still working hard, looking for even the smallest advantage and the opportunity for escape that it might bring.
Beside him, a winged beast landed and lunged forward with its long neck. The beast had a black eagle’s head and talons, and its leathery deep-blue wings were complemented by two massive human arms which ended in claws. With twitching movements, the beast kept one eye on the prone Havers. Smith stepped forward and ripped the wooden weapons from the government man.
“The wood is from this realm so how did these strike me?” Captain Smith asked his captive.
Havers spat some blood from his mouth onto the ground. “Magic!” he answered and stared up at the unholy pirate.
“It does not matter. Nothing matters now. Not now my love has brought me back. Now is the time to rule this place. Captive, have you ever been to hell?”
“Hell, c’est les autres! Especially you!”
“Come. You will see power. You will see men broken by my will. You will see a lord in this place. They rebuked me and now they will suffer. Revenge will be visited on their generations. They will burn.” The captain turned to the other captives. Austerley was looking extremely dopey, probably from the drugs. The other captive had been forced to the ground on his knees. The four people who had brought him now gathered around him and placed their hands on him. And then the chanting began.
It was off-key, off-tone, off-pitch. Everything that gives music its natural beauty had been stripped away and replaced by a distortion of alarming proportions. Havers grabbed his ears to block out the sounds and Austerley became more agitated. The man on his knees rocked and reeled under their touch.
Havers became strangely engrossed as he looked at the man. Horrified but mystified, he watched as lines began to form across the man’s face. His nose grew along with his ears, hair sprouting from both. The body buckled and started to wither inward, with his chest collapsing, his legs thinning and his hair falling out in large clumps. Beside him danced the nurse from the care home, offering up her flesh to the night. Havers saw her face change as she danced. It took on a horrid grin and her eyes became wild.
The withering man collapsed to the ground. His shrunken body was significantly smaller than when they had begun.
The captain kicked the body over and called on his deckhands to remove the jetsam. He moved towards the nurse and roared into the night, “Now we shall take this place away, to the depths of hell, to rule side by side, my dear. And when I have fed on this one’s life, I shall find and take that body you want for me.”
Austerley was dragged forward and thrown to his knees. Havers caught a glimpse of Austerley’s face and saw the look of horror on it. Even in his dreams of Dagon, Austerley had never looked so terrified. But Havers also realized that Austerley was becoming fully awake in his terror. Focus, Arthur, focus, the moment’s coming, he thought.
The chanting began again but this time in a different language, and the nurse did not place her hands on the victim but broke off to be at Captain Smith’s side.
“Dance, my dear, dance! Celebrate our victory,” howled Smith into the night. The nurse began to spin around in unholy erotic poses, much to the captain’s delight. Fighting to keep his attention away from her mesmeric movements, Havers fixed his eyes on Austerley, who began to undergo the change. His thick, wild hair started to drop out in clumps. The jowls on his face tightened and his back hunched tighter. From an obese start, Austerley was shedding so much weight he was starting to look like a starving refugee. But then there was a new noise. Austerley was also beginning to chant.
Meanwhile, the black night was changing. In the sky a fireball erupted and began to grow. A fierce heat radiated from it and it seemed to streak across the horizon, encircling the town. The captain laughed as it grew, occasionally grabbing his mistress with erotic intent, happy for her to be on show. Austerley looked wretched, a poor parody of the man he had been, but, with an inner resolve, he began to stand up. His chanting was now a raging cacophony, enough to grab the captain’s attention.
Havers had no idea what Austerley was doing but the chanting was engrossing everyone, including the winged beast that stood guard over him. Spotting an opportunity, he moved ever so subtly towards his fighting sticks, which were lying just beside the beast.
The ground began to shake and the whole vista caught fire. Captain Smith laughed pointedly at Austerley, who was still chanting even with three people trying to push him back down. Then the earth fell away.
It was like being on a fairground ride with the earth as the car. Everything seemed to drop vertically. The captain and his horde yelled with delight and he grabbed his lover by the waist, celebrating with a brutal kiss. Havers felt sick but concentrated on reaching his sticks. From the corner of his eye he saw Austerley straighten up and his three oppressors fall to the ground. Then the falling sensation stopped like a lift coming to an abrupt halt. All those standing, except for Austerley, tumbled to the ground.
Havers had been lying down so was unaffected by the abrupt halt. He grabbed his sticks and leapt up at the winged beast, which had collapsed flat on the ground, its feet having given way under it. With speed, precision and above all, power, Havers buried a stick into the beast’s head. Without waiting to see if his action had been successful, Havers ran to Austerley and swept him onto his shoulder in an impromptu fireman’s lift. By the time Smith and his horde had reacted, Havers was already racing down the hillside with his prize.
Austerley was babbling. The same statements repeated over and over, as if he were convincing himself all was not lost. “Churchy, they need Churchy. Manifesting, full flesh. Stupid idiot, she wanted him. Consummation, flesh. Need Churchy. Halted now. Halted now but not complete. Not safe, not safe. Havers, find Churchy. Find Churchy.”
Escape
Bracken ripped at his trousers as he crashed through. With Austerley over his shoulder, Havers couldn’t bend down far enough to swipe the deeper tangles clear of his legs but had to plough through regardless. The roar behind him spurred him on and he was able to see quite well due to the light from the fire in the sky. The world was like a well-lit dining hall of old and, while not the same as daylight, it did illuminate all but the darkest corners.
There were three vehicles in the car park at the bottom of Gibbet Point. Two looked modern, and Havers knew that breaking through their defences would take longer than he had. The other car he remembered as being brought out some ten years ago and it looked to be the basic model. This was a good time to start his life as a carjacker.
Austerley was unceremoniously dumped on the car bonnet and Havers drove his elbow through the driver’s window. It was crass but time didn’t allow for finesse. He then drove the handles of his sticks into the radiator g
rill, leaving the length of the sticks parallel to the front of the car, like bull bars. He opened the door, pushed Austerley into the passenger seat and followed inside, grabbing his colleague’s legs and whipping them out of the way. Havers then reached underneath the steering wheel and ripped open the interior. He was dimly aware of the pirate horde charging down the hill but maintained his cool, calm, dispassionate self as he worked on the wiring.
The engine fired into life and Havers spun the wheel, driving the car across a grassy area and striking down several deckhands in the process. As the wheels fought for grip on the grass, Havers remembered his driving lessons and coaxed the car onto the path. He avoided the main route out to the road as this would take him alongside the descending horde. He believed they might just be able to hold on to a car so he took the walker’s path instead. Havers switched on the car lights and a tree appeared in his vision. He flung the car hard left, causing Austerley to roll sideways and strike his head on the passenger door.
Without looking behind him, Havers concentrated on the track ahead. It was extremely narrow and he clipped shrubs and bushes in rapid succession. Turning a corner on the path, Havers was confronted by a small bridge. Its width looked similar to that of the car but Havers was not stopping. The sides of the bridge buckled as the wing mirrors were ripped off. The hubcaps were squeezed off and Havers heard a tyre burst. The car bounced clear on the other side of the bridge and began to pull to one side. Fighting against it, Havers tried to recall his intended route.
“Where the hell are you going?” yelled Austerley.
“Sanctuary. You’re off to church, Mr Austerley. It’s about time you paid a visit.”
“Watch out for the cops!” Austerley’s warning, while timely, was unnecessary. Spinning the wheel, Havers slid his vehicle past the white car with the flashing blue lights. In his rear-view mirror, he saw the horde descend on the emergency vehicle and flip it into the air. Austerley screamed out but Havers remained calm and focused. Racing down a narrow street he could see a spire in the distance. Thank you, God, he thought, for instilling in your believers a desire for prominence.
Austerley was babbling. “Churchy, they need Churchy. She wants him, needs him. Wants to have him. So they can have relations. Difficult between spirit and flesh. Too difficult. Need Churchy.”
Havers tried to ignore Austerley’s words but something inside was already analysing these ideas. The other terror that raged within Havers was the thought that there were possibly eight thousand people in their beds who were prey for this pirate horde. And I can’t protect them, thought Havers. I have nothing for them.
One doorway caught Havers’ attention as he sped past it. In the blur of the moment, it seemed that there was a burning cross on the door. It made no sense to Havers and he shouted at Austerley to look.
“I see it! Cross on fire, Havers. I see it. No idea what it is but I see it,” said Austerley.
Havers swung the car hard into a car park and Austerley could see that they had arrived at a building with a large spire. There was a priest standing in the car park. The priest walked past the car to the edge of the building’s grounds. The pirate horde then rounded the corner but stopped abruptly at the car park’s edge. Captain Smith pushed his deckhands to the side as he strode to the front, eyes fixed on the priest. In Smith’s wake came the nurse, Tania, naked and walking with a swagger.
“Enjoying this, priest?” provoked Tania, parading herself with no dignity.
“Be gone, witch, you have no charms to interest me,” replied the priest, his eyes never flinching from Captain Smith.
“We want the one you call Kirkgordon,” said Captain Smith. “Give him to me or I’ll rip your throat out. I’ll spike your soul with hellfire and—”
“Silence, beast!” The priest’s words thundered out. “This is sanctuary and your words shall not be permitted.”
Havers had exited the car and now stood with the priest. He watched as Smith turned to his rabble and waved his cutlass in the air. The deckhands opened their mouths to yell but Havers heard nothing. It was like someone had turned off the sound at a rock concert. Arms waved, fists shook, but all was quiet.
Smith signalled a charge and the deckhands raced forward. Havers turned to run but the priest stood motionless. The first deckhand to step onto the car park turned from a ghostly form into a mere trace of luminous smoke. Those behind him combusted in a similar fashion. Quickly the surge stopped and the horde quietened, wondering what had happened.
“This is sanctuary!” bawled the priest, “and the citizens of hell are not welcome.” He turned his back on the horde and smiled at an astounded Havers. “Well, Arthur, I don’t know about you, but I could murder a cuppa. Should we give your friend a hand?”
“Okay, Ohlos, I haven’t seen anything quite like that before. A little protective ring around a person or a small group, yes, but actually covering a whole building? Lethal to them as well. Very impressive, my friend.” Havers sipped his tea, letting his statement hang, begging a response.
“It isn’t just the church, Arthur. There’s more than that.” The statement from the priest wasn’t proud, just matter-of-fact.
“Ah, yes, the burning cross on the doors. Incredible. All the people of the town trapped in and the evil trapped out. I am impressed, Ohlos. Truly impressed, for once.”
“I was doubtful I could do it but with our descent interrupted the influence is much stronger.”
“Ohlos, although impressed, I am also confused. Our descent? Do you mean to hell?” Havers raised his eyebrows.
“I find it hard to believe you’ve never been. But yes, you are correct. Descent is a figurative word here. We have not moved into the ground here but across, how shall I put this, other planes? The motion we felt was from that movement, but someone stopped it. Someone prevented us from reaching the other side. And so we see the fire in the sky.”
“Hellfire?”
“No, Arthur. It’s just a physical manifestation of the boundary. We are in limbo. A place between. And that is as far as my understanding goes. We are in another place. Exactly where… well, I don’t know.” The priest dropped his chin, staring at his tea.
“What’s wrong, Ohlos?” asked Havers.
“We won’t stay here. At least, I doubt it. Something will give and when it does we will descend, and all this protection will go. We need a reversal, some way to put it back. But I don’t know how.”
“I have a man that might. I think it is time we assemble all our players. Find out what’s required. Time for you to meet Mr Austerley. I warn you, he’s not too keen on clergy.”
“With all the troubles in the news, no one is. I’m pretty used to it.”
Havers disappeared through the living room door and then reappeared with Austerley hobbling behind him. Holding the door handle to steady himself, Austerley looked the priest up and down, noting with disgust the clerical collar.
“Mr Austerley, please meet Father Jonah,” announced Havers.
“Are you here to sink us?” snapped Austerley.
“It’s towards the back of that book, isn’t it? I never read it, at least not that section. But to control it! There’s one alive in you, isn’t there? Dreams, dreams that cripple. Excuse the pun.” Father Jonah looked into Austerley’s eyes. “May God have mercy on you. You saw Dagon.”
“Face to face, priest,” spat Austerley.
“And it was only the efforts of Mr Kirkgordon and myself that rescued him from it,” said Havers.
“He shot my foot! I have no foot because of that arse. You and Churchy can stick your rescue mission,” raged Austerley.
“Churchy?” asked the priest.
“Mr Kirkgordon,” Havers enlightened him. “They have pet names for each other. Dear friends, really.”
“And you stopped the descent! Mr Austerley, I am impressed. Please, take a seat.”
The compliment made Austerley beam and he became less cantankerous. Havers stood and helped the prematurely aged oc
cult professor to a seat. A moment later, Kirkgordon entered the room. Austerley glared at him.
“What happened to you? I said you shouldn’t smoke. Bloody bad for you,” said Kirkgordon.
“You can piss off, Churchy. Some bloody protector, you!” Austerley’s wizened face became even more contorted in anger.
“I was drugged. Our friend the priest has worked wonders in getting me back on my feet. Anyway, you were in a care home and you couldn’t even look after yourself in there.”
“Gentlemen, enough,” ordered Havers. “When we get everything sorted I will happily let you kick the verbal knackers off each other but until then you are on my payroll and will behave. Understand me? Good. Ohlos, bring my colleagues up to speed, please.”
Father Jonah outlined what he knew and Austerley became quite pained. Once the priest had finished, Austerley leaned forward in his chair to speak and the others remained silent.
“The padre is right about where we are. And he’s right we won’t stay here. It’s complicated, but the barriers I put in place with my chants won’t hold forever. There’s a spirit returned to wreak havoc on this town for some reason. An old pirate, I think. Privateer, to be accurate. He is the threat, and when commanding his crew he is dangerous, but he’s not in flesh form yet. He needs to take on a physical form. He’s to inhabit a live body. And that body is you, Churchy.”
“Me! Why the hell me?”
“Because she likes you. That nurse you were flirting with in the home. The one whose arse you kept checking out. The one you took out for a drink. She’s a witch, draining life from people and giving it to her beloved.”
“Bloody hell,” gasped Kirkgordon.
“And she wants your body. That dance she was doing signified lust and hunger.”