by Mark Frost
A shadowy swirling mass loomed up inside the portal Lyle had opened.
“What did you bring over, Lyle?”
Lyle stared at the portal, terrified. “Wendigo,” he mumbled.
Will slipped Dave’s glasses out of his vest and put them on. An immense semihuman frame appeared on the far side of the portal.
“Please, help me,” pleaded Lyle.
Will yanked Lyle to his feet and pulled him toward the mouth of the cave, but Lyle broke free, pushed Will away, and ran toward the portal. Will looked back and saw the thing step out of the hole.
It was a gaunt giant with a sickening loose hide, mottled and gray, covered with long dank hair. Its long leathery arms and legs ended in talons. Clumps of eyes and knots of gnawed limbs poked out of its exposed rib cage. A grotesque grin of razor-sharp teeth split its face below poisonous deep-set yellow eyes gleaming with hunger and spite. A jet-black darkness moved with it, flowing around it like a cloud.
Lyle walked right up to it, raising his hands in supplication. The creature regarded him curiously.
“I called you over,” said Lyle, smiling darkly; then he turned and pointed at Will. “He’s the one you want.”
When Lyle turned back to it, the thing opened its maw and a long tentacle of flesh shot out and attached itself to Lyle’s face with a wet slap. Lyle’s body stiffened. His limbs thrust out and his whole body pitched and thrashed violently. He let loose an unearthly muffled howl, as if his soul were being run through a log splitter. Moments later, Will thought he saw Lyle’s face appear inside the cage of the thing’s ribs, screaming in agony.
Will backed away, numb with terror, as the wendigo released Lyle and he flopped to the floor of the cave. As Will fled the cave, he heard the wendigo stomping after him. He expected its vile touch to fell him at any moment.
Then he heard … what, an engine? Some kind of motor? Will looked up but the sky seemed unbelievably bright.
“Get down, mate.”
Dave’s Prowler ripped up and over the ridgeline. It soared into the air, arcing over Will, gunned full throttle. Dave leaned out the window, his sidearm blazing as he slammed the Prowler straight into the wendigo at the mouth of the cave.
The collision drove the creature back inside. It planted its feet and grabbed the car in its massive hands. Metal pinched and notched as the wendigo crushed the car like a child’s toy. Dave leaped out of the wreckage and with a burst of light powered up into the full angelic form Will had seen briefly in his room: eight feet tall, platinum armor, wielding a gleaming silver-blue sword.
Dave and the creature savaged each other, trading staggering blows. Dave absorbed fearsome damage in order to drive the thing back. It yielded ground, Dave spinning his sword like a scythe. The air sparked around them like the Fourth of July until, with a devastating combination, Dave smashed the wendigo’s shadowy mass back into the portal.
Will watched from his knees just outside the cave as the portal began to contract. Dave shrank back to human size, bleeding from a dozen wounds. Will saw a fearful look in Dave’s eyes he’d never seen before.
“You all right?” asked Dave, his chest heaving.
Will nodded. “What about you?”
“Been better. That was a nasty one. One of the big boys—”
He took one step toward Will. Suddenly the long desiccated limbs of the wendigo shot out of the contracting portal behind Dave and snared him around the waist.
“Buzzard’s luck, mate,” said Dave. He reached into his pocket and threw something. It plugged down into the snow just outside the cave.
“No!” shouted Will.
Then the thing yanked Dave back into the Never-Was just as the portal winked shut and vanished.
The cave went silent. Will pulled off his glasses and fumbled them into his pocket. Heart thumping, he staggered outside, dropped to his knees, reached a hand down into the puncture in the snow, and found something solid.
Dave’s glass cube, with the two black dice spinning inside.
Will heard an engine sound again, loud and getting louder. He looked up at the sky.
Hovering above him, a helicopter angled sideways as it slowed and lowered toward the ridge. He saw a door slide open on its side, and a rope ladder tumbled out, someone tossing it down to him, and he thought—
I know him. Who is he? Wait, it’ll come to me.…
Yes, that’s Headmaster Rourke.
MOM AND DAD
Are you Awake? He’s an only child … 1990 … the Paladin Prophecy … Roman numerals … clinics … test scores … the Greenwood Foundation.
Open all doors, and Awaken.
Fragments swirled in Will’s mind. He slowly became aware that he was lying on his back, on a bed with crisp linen sheets. No idea how long he’d been out. And he felt someone was there with him. He opened his eyes. He was in a room in the medical center. When he looked around, there they were, both of them, sitting by his bed in the pale moonlight.
Mom and Dad. Jordan and Belinda. Really them. When they saw him come around, they hurried to his side and held him in their arms, took turns hugging him.
“We were so afraid we’d lost you,” said his mom. “Thank God, Will.”
“I knew you were all right,” said Will. “The whole time. I just knew it.”
“We’re so proud of you, son,” said his dad. “They’ve filled us in on everything. We knew you could do it.”
“I don’t know how. I really don’t. I had a lot of help from my friends. I couldn’t have done it alone.”
“We never doubted you,” said his mom.
“You came through for us, Will,” said his dad. “Exactly the way we trained you. The way we always expected you to.”
“Where have you been?” asked Will. “What happened to you?”
Jordan and Belinda looked at each other and smiled a secret smile. As his mom turned her head, Will saw her neck: no scar.
“Should we tell him?” asked Jordan, cleaning his glasses.
Belinda smiled gently, reached over, and absentmindedly brushed the hair off Will’s forehead. “There’s so much to tell,” she said.
Will heard soft music. His dad had brought along a record player. A black disk was spinning on the turntable on the other side of the room, the needle riding on the vinyl, a hiss and a pop during the chorus: All you need is love … All you need is love … All you need is love, love … Love is all you need …
“You’re so close to cracking it, Will,” said Jordan.
Feeling suddenly uneasy, Will’s eyes darted around the room. A vase of fresh flowers—white chrysanthemums—sat on a table under the window, in a shaft of moonlight. A compass and a steel ruler sat next to the vase. There was a chessboard nearby: two black knights confronting a squad of white pawns. He heard a ball bouncing on the floor, looked to his left, and saw two old wooden tennis rackets resting in the corner. Strangest of all, a falcon perched on the top of a chair beside them. Staring right at Will, fierce and regal.
In the doorway, half in the shadows, stood Coach Jericho. What looked like blood dripped steadily from his left arm, hanging limp at his side.
“You saw one of them,” said Jericho. “One of the Old Race. Wi-indi-ko.”
The needle got stuck in a groove, skipping the lyrics: … love … love.… love …
“I’m sorry?” asked Will, confused.
“The Prophecy,” said his dad. “We should have told you. A long time ago.”
“But there were things we didn’t want you to know,” said his mom, leaning in. “We love you so much, but you never really knew us. We couldn’t let you. For your own safety. Even before you were born.”
Will opened his eyes.
He was in a hospital bed, in a room in the infirmary or medical center. Lights dimmed, darkness outside the window. He winced; everything ached. An IV was plugged into his left arm.
Coach Jericho sat by the side of the bed. His left arm was in a sling, under a long black leather coat hanging over
his shoulders. His bronze face looked as hard and unyielding as flint.
“Am I still dreaming?” said Will.
“No,” said Jericho. “You’re awake.”
Awake. Will tried to read him but couldn’t. “How much do you know?”
“Enough.”
“Did you know some of your guys were involved?”
“I do now,” said Jericho.
“You won’t have much of a team left.”
“Don’t need a team,” said Jericho. “I have you.”
Will closed his eyes, remembering parts of the dream. “What’s a wendigo?”
“Apex predator,” said Jericho. “Strong expression of weasel medicine.”
“What, they kill more than they eat?” asked Will.
“Except the Wi-indi-ko feeds on souls,” said Jericho. “And it’s never satisfied.”
Will thought about Lyle’s body, twitching on the ground, and shivered. “I saw an animal in my dream,” he said. “A falcon.”
Jericho thought about that and gave the slightest smile.
“Is that good?” asked Will.
“You tell me, when you get to know it better,” said Jericho. Then he leaned in and whispered, “It’s a crucial time now. Be careful what you say, and who you say it to.”
Will nodded, took a breath, and closed his eyes for a moment. “Hey, Coach, is it true what they say? Are you really related to Crazy Horse?”
Ajay appeared at the door. “Thank God. I didn’t want to wake you, but it sounded like you were mumbling in your sleep.”
“Coach Jericho was just—” Will turned back to Jericho. He was gone.
“What’s the matter, Will?” asked Ajay. “What about Jericho?”
Will felt a sudden chill and pulled the covers up. “How long have I been here?” he asked.
“They brought you in two hours ago,” said Ajay. “We’re all here. Nick has a broken leg. They found him in the locker room, pretty badly banged up.”
“Elise? Brooke?”
“Elise is here, stable but still unconscious. Brooke has no serious injuries, but she’s severely shaken. Her parents are flying in tonight.”
Will focused on him. Ajay looked worn to a nub. “And how are you, Ajay?”
“I’m all right,” said Ajay, but he sniffed and fought to hold back tears. “Mild hypothermia. Nothing a few cups of cocoa couldn’t take care of. But I’ve been worried sick about the rest of you.”
Will reached out and took his hand and waited until Ajay could talk again.
“I feel so completely ineffectual, Will,” said Ajay. “You guys did all the important stuff and what did I do? I went for a bumpy ride on the back of a horse.”
“No, Ajay, no. You were great. We couldn’t have done it without you.”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“But it’s also true,” said Will. “And we need you even more now. Because you’re the best witness to all this they could ever hope to find. You see everything, and it’s not like you’re going to forget any details, are you?”
“Never,” said Ajay, smiling, and then proved it. “Help arrived at the boathouse exactly fourteen minutes after you left. Mention kidnapping and attempted murder and an entire regiment shows up: cars, trucks, boats, police, ambulances, troopers.”
“What did you tell them, Ajay?”
“That someone dressed as the Paladin kidnapped Brooke and threatened to harm her if we didn’t do as he said,” said Ajay. “So we felt we had to rescue her without informing authorities. And I was able to show them your conversation with the Paladin on my tablet to prove it.”
“Perfect,” said Will, patting his arm. “And that’s all we should tell them.”
“I read you loud and clear, Will,” said Ajay. “I saw police taking away Durgnatt, Steifel, and Duckworth at the boathouse. In handcuffs.”
“What about Lyle?”
“They brought him in on the chopper with you, but I haven’t heard anything.”
“And Todd Hodak?”
“Apparently police picked up six more kids at the Barn,” said Ajay, “but no one’s mentioned Todd.”
Will thought for a moment. “There were two Paladins, Ajay. It was Lyle at the boathouse. The one at the Barn had to be Todd. When he figured out it was Nick and not me, he ran off.”
“So Lyle’s the one we saw on camera, then?” asked Ajay.
“Had to be,” said Will. “Lyle was in charge. Will they let you out of here?”
“They haven’t said they wouldn’t. Why?”
“I need my iPhone. It’s on a shelf in Lyle’s office, in a plastic box with my name on it. If they haven’t clamped down Greenwood Hall, you might be able to sneak in and grab it.”
“Not to argue, but don’t you think we’re in enough trouble already?”
“All the trouble’s pointing at the Knights,” said Will. “It’s not like we kidnapped anybody, right?”
“If you say so,” said Ajay, still uncertain.
“We’ve got more work ahead of us,” said Will. “We need that phone.”
“I’ll get right on it.” Ajay started out but stopped at the door. “Will, I know we can piece together a lot of the facts … but do you have any idea of the big picture?”
“I’ve got some ideas,” said Will. “I don’t want to say anything until we’re all together again. Do you play tennis?”
“What a thoroughly bizarre non sequitur.”
“I’m trying to figure something out from a dream. So do you?”
Ajay shrugged. “I’m more of a Ping-Pong man myself.”
“What’s the meaning of love?”
“Dear me, from the absurd to the profound—”
“I mean in tennis,” said Will.
“In tennis? In the scoring of tennis, love means zero. Its origin is somewhat in dispute, but since the game evolved in France, one theory has love deriving from the French word l’œuf. French for ‘egg.’ Because an egg looks like a zero.”
“An egg.”
Will felt the click of cold hard logic fit together, as if he’d set the keystone and all the other pieces had fallen into place.
“That’s the most popular theory, but no one seems to know for sure. Will, if you’re dreaming about eggs, are you sure you’re not just … hungry?”
“Actually, I’m starving.”
“Should I tell the doctors you’re awake?”
“In two minutes,” said Will. “Make a big deal out of it. That should give you enough cover to slip out unnoticed.”
Ajay stepped into the hall. Will eased the IV needle from his arm, got unsteadily out of bed, and pulled on a robe. He moved through the door connecting to the next room.
Nick lay on a rolling hospital bed, his right leg elevated by a pulley device, wearing a cast up to the knee. Will moved to Nick’s side. His eyes were closed; the right was badly swollen and blackened. He’d gotten stitches in his lower lip and left cheekbone and had scratches and scrapes everywhere. He looked like he’d survived a train wreck.
“Hey, slacker,” Will whispered. “Nice sympathy play. Chicks’ll dig the cast.”
“You should see the other guys,” croaked Nick. He cracked open his good eye and clasped Will’s hand. “By the way, I’m telling everybody these are UPIs: Unidentified Party Injuries.”
“Some party.”
“Brooke okay, bro?” asked Nick.
“That’s the word.”
“So we nailed the bastards.”
“To the wall,” said Will.
“For reals,” said Nick, then leaned in and whispered, “And, dude, I’ve got great news: Whatever drugs I’m on right now? They’re awesome.”
“Nick, this is really important. Between the drugs and your concussion, it’s even more important: Don’t say anything they don’t need to know.”
Nick gave Will a fist bump. “I’m all over that. I got a concussion, too?”
“Dude. You were born with one.” Will sta
rted for the door.
“Hey, chill a sec. I was going to tell you something … real important about Nepsted,” said Nick sleepily. “But, damn, I can’t remember what it was.…”
Nick nodded off. Will moved through the next door to an identical room. Lying on her back, eyes closed, with an IV in her arm and hooked up to a battery of monitors, was Elise.
Will took her hand, leaned in, and whispered, “Elise, can you hear me?”
“No,” she said. “I died. Tragically.” She opened one eye.
“Ajay said you hadn’t woken up yet,” said Will.
Elise arched an eyebrow. “You think I’d let them know that before we had a chance to talk? Is that how little you think of me?”
“I should know better.”
“Yes, you should,” she said. He tried to disengage his hand, but she held on. “I didn’t give you permission to let go.”
“Maybe I don’t want to, then,” said Will.
They stared at each other for a moment. “Great,” said Elise. “Now I’m completely self-conscious about the whole hand thing.”
But neither of them let go.
“Did you know you could … do … whatever it was you did at the boathouse?” asked Will.
“Let me ask you this first,” she said. “It’s a strange question, but since you sent Ajay to bring me there, I’m asking it anyway: Did you?”
“Not exactly. I had a feeling you’d be able to do something.”
“Why? How?”
“Because of a question you asked me once,” said Will. “In a dream. You asked me if I was ‘Awake.’ That was you, wasn’t it?”
“Awake was just the word I used. To describe this feeling to myself.” She held his eyes steadily. “I was dreaming, too. I saw you, twice, before you got here, before I had any idea who you were, or if you were even real. I saw the trouble you were in. And then when you showed up, it scared the pants off me.” She gripped his hand, hard. “I’ve always been weird, okay? And I don’t mean geeky-weird. I mean the Old English definition: the power to see fate or the future, or to know what people are thinking. Then you got here and woke it up for real.”
“You mean, what you did at the boathouse?”
“I had no idea I could do anything like that,” she said. “Hitting a high C that shatters a wineglass is one thing. Blowing the doors off a building and knocking a roomful of people senseless? That’s a whole different level of ‘Awake.’ ”