The Equinox

by M J Preston

  Blackbird, barely able to breathe, could see them watching from beyond the circle. They waited: Grandfather, his mother, Toomey and Fortier, all aglow in the luminous green that lit the hearts of the Guardian. He wanted to die and be with them, a spectator to this madness instead of a participant.

  “Be strong, Young Daniel,” Grandfather said.

  “Do not look into its eyes,” Blackbird warned. “If it catches you in its gaze it can influence you and cause you to hallucinate.”

  West stared through it, chanting to God, waiting for rhythmic thump and crash of the drums.

  Look at me, the Walker beckoned. I will give you everything. Feel me!

  “Kihci-manitow.”

  It moved to Logan, and he suddenly heard Toomey calling him.

  “Let me out, Dave! I will die in this circle. Let me free before I am dragged to the dark world!” Then it was his son, Howard. “Dad, we need you!” – and then his daughter, Jamie. “Daddy, they’re everywhere, we need you!” But Logan stared down, would not meet its eyes.

  It shrieked again and moved to Nero.

  As the Walker moved from one to the next, the mist in the woods thickened and in it, lights began to pulse and move. From the sky, a fork of lightning cracked, splitting spruce and sending a tremor of thunder crashing across the farm.

  The walls are thinning. The time is short, Toomey echoed inside Logan’s head.

  The drums beat.

  The new hunters of the Chocktee continued their chant.

  “Kihci-manitow.”

  The dull silence of the day had been replaced with echoes, crashes, drumbeats and the thunder of muted voices from the skies. West looked first to Blackbird, whom he thought had succumbed to his injuries, then at the dense fog that solidified inside the forest landscape outside the circle. He saw the lights pulsing, coming together and realized that the pulse was following the cadence of the drums.

  Thump! Thump! Crash!

  9

  Beyond the ritual circle, the three drummers of Chocktee were each locked in a spotlight of brilliant green illumination as they set about their task. Each man continued to pound their drum as they bathed in its life and warmth. Outside the glowing light, only blackness presided, wanting to engulf them and steal the life from their lungs, but they were each under the protection of a separate Guardian, each hovering a thousand feet above.

  “Kihci-manitow!” Monias chanted and beat his drum. Thump!

  “Kihci-manitow!” Machino added and thumped.

  “Kihci-manitow!” Proudfoot cried out and crashed the big bass drum.

  In the light swam smaller creatures that rose and fell, while outside in the dark reaches of the void something else watched and waited. They could not see or hear the drama unfolding on the sour earth of Hopper’s farm: they only saw the shining light and felt the cadence of the drums and their hearts.

  10

  Probing, reaching inside them, looking for a way out and finding the flaw in their magic. It settled in front of Hardy and stood motionless as the others continued their chant.

  Its body stiffened and its eyes began to glow fiery white, but the specter in the woods to the north of the farm was a frightening distraction as well. It started to rise out of the fog, humming as it did and emitting electrical flashes from inside. The creature saw it and let out a disheveled murmur that Logan thought was reminiscent of what he had seen in the vision he shared with Toomey.

  It’s scared now. The Master is returning; coming to claim it.

  The orb glowed bluish black, a light inside pulsing like a heartbeat. It was just outside the circle, behind Mick and Oddball, and from the mist, light and blue liquid seemed to draw to it magnetically.

  It’s drawing power. Logan hoped the creature inside it was only there to claim its property and take it back. He hoped it wasn’t hungry.

  “Don’t stop,” Blackbird called weakly.

  And with that, they continued to chant as the drums beat, and the walls between the worlds thinned. The vessel known as the black orb pulsed in and out, its skin rippling, its circumference growing as the mist and dark matter drew to it.

  It shrieked turning its attention on the flaw in their circle.

  Hardy could feel it tugging at her mind, probing deeper into her, and she tried to push it off as she chanted. “Kihci-manitow! “Kihci-manitow!” “Kihci-manitow…”

  Come to me, the Walker soothed.

  “Kihci-manitow!”

  I will not hurt you. I am your friend.

  “Kihci-manitow.” She could not hear the drums or the voices of the others anymore, and suddenly she felt alone. She began to feel the anesthesia running through her, the loss of fear and the impulse of abandon.

  I love you, the voice inside her assured. This belonged not to the creature, but Don Steel. Just let go, Sand. It’s okay to let go. I love you, and I love our child. Look into my eyes. Look into my eyes.

  She felt her eyes rising upward, and she saw Steel standing in front of her, a smile on his face – and when her eyes met his, she felt herself let go.

  “Sandy, no,” Logan cried out, but it was too late: it had taken hold of her.

  “Kaw seu, Igwhot,” she hissed and stepped into the circle.

  “Close the circle!” Blackbird wheezed.

  Logan and West continued their chant, shortening the distance between them. The creature had been distracted by Blackbird, and now rage-filled it at its missed opportunity. It scowled and shot over to where he lay, lifting him. It shrieked again and again as it shook him like a ragdoll, then threw him to the ground.

  The drums continued, and thunder clapped above in acknowledgment to their calling while the black orb continued to draw energy, gaining the power it needed to break through the thinning walls.

  Logan looked at the slumped body of Blackbird, sure he was dead now. Then called between chants to the others, “We cannot let it go! It is running out of time! Keep the cadence! Kihci-manitow!”

  Now it was not just drizzling, but pouring, and the lightning flashed strobe-like. The mist swirled, and the black orb pulsed, growing to an enormous size and cracking the tree branches around it.

  The creature was losing its focus, feeling the pull of the Master, not wanting to go back to the void. Then it heard the new hunter giving orders and turned its attention on him, scooping Hardy into its clutch.

  “Sandy!” Oddball yelled, and almost broke ranks.

  “Don’t move!” Mick ordered.

  “That’s what it wants,” Nero chimed in.

  “Kihci-manitow!”

  Thump! Thump! Crash!

  “Let me go,” it hissed, holding Hardy before him.

  “Kaw seu, Igwhot,” Hardy mumbled, her eyes shiny mirrors.

  “No,” Logan said. “I will not break the circle.”

  “Let me go or I will kill her!” it demanded.

  “Fuck you! You are going back! You have killed enough! We will not free you!”

  It shrieked and dug a talon into Hardy’s shoulder. She screamed.

  “Chief, no, we can’t let it kill her!” Findlay shouted.

  “Chief!” Oddball cried.

  “Kihci-manitow!”

  The chant continued, and the drums beat mercilessly. Logan felt panic but knew they couldn’t let it go. The orb beyond the circle was gaining strength; it could be only a matter of minutes.

  Then Hardy said something, fracturing his resolve.

  “My baby,” she whimpered. “Please, Chief! Don’t let it kill my baby.”

  The hum from the orb grew louder and pulsed electrically. It seemed to be surrounded by a thin membrane of skin, and something beneath moved about wanting to break free. The drums were almost muted by the hum, and Logan suddenly was unsure what to do.

  “Baby?”

  “Chief! She’s got St
eel’s kid in her!” Oddball cried out.

  “Chief!” Findlay was stepping forward.

  “Don’t fucking move! Stand still!” Mick screamed at both of them.

  “Kihci-manitow!”

  Thump! Thump! Crash!

  The rain was pummeling them. Trees froze around the orb then cracked from the intense cold. They popped between the humming, the drums, the thunder and chants as Logan tried desperately to buy time.

  “I will disembowel her before your eyes!” It drew up its claw and scraped it over her belly. “I will eat her child, and it will be your burden to carry!”

  “Please, Chief, please don’t let it hurt my baby,” she begged, but her eyes were still shiny mirrors. “Please, just let me die then.”

  It cackled then and tore open her shirt, exposing her belly. Scraping a claw across the milky skin which was ready to give way to the jagged edge, a small cut opened up. Black drool ran from its mouth.

  Behind it, the orb hummed louder.

  “Time’s up,” it growled, baring its jagged network of teeth.

  “Wait!” Logan called. “We will not break the circle, but I will give you what you want!”

  “Break the circle,” it demanded.

  “No! But I will make a trade with you!”

  The orb was beginning to hemorrhage, black ick bleeding from the outer skin. The thing within it continued to move, wanting to get out.

  “You for them? Hardly a fair trade,” it snarled. “If I must go back I will enjoy one last taste of this world’s innocence.”

  You are the key, Toomey whispered, and suddenly Logan knew.

  “I will offer you your freedom, but only if I can take your place.”

  The creature stopped and snapped its head. “What are you offering, hunter?”

  “I will make the same pledge you made for your people,”

  “Dave, no,” Mick called.

  “You will be free. I will take your burden. No chance of returning to the void, and once I take your place you can walk out of here. Grow old, unburdened by the hunger or the pain that plagues you.”

  Logan kept his eyes on Hardy, hoping that it wasn’t too late to save her.

  The Walker contemplated the bargain, but did so quickly: the skin on the black orb was rupturing, and the blue lights began to shoot from the lacerations. Time was running out. It set Hardy down and hissed at her in the ancient language, but they all knew what it was telling her.

  “Kaw seu, Igwhot,” she whimpered, standing beneath it like a cowering pet.

  “Klay gor orum gaw!” it thundered at her, and she fled toward Mick and Oddball. Then it turned back toward Logan and said, “Come to me now!”

  “First release her from your spell,” Logan demanded.

  “Don’t test me, hunter. I will not be tested!”

  “Release her or I’ll leave you to the punishment of your Master.”

  At once, Hardy fell to the ground, unconscious. The creature turned back to Logan and beckoned with its long talons. Its venom spilled from between its weathered, broken teeth. It would waste no time.

  Logan reached into his breast pocket, removing the pipe Toomey had given him. He tossed it over to West. “Give that to Blackbird when this is over. Tell him that Toomey wanted the Chief Elder of the Chocktee people to have that.”

  “Chief, what in God’s name are you doing?”

  “Mick,” Logan yelled across to his friend. “Take care of my kids! Tell them I did my best.”

  “Dave, stop this! God damn it! Stop,” Mick yelled back.

  “Mick, promise me!”

  “No! Dave! This is madness!”

  “Please, Mick, take care of my kids. Tell them!”

  Their eyes met, and in that instant, Mick knew that he could not stop Logan. So he nodded, every muscle in his face contorting. He croaked, “I will! I promise, Dave, I will!”

  The drums of Chocktee were but a distant muted thumping. The hum of the black orb was deafening, like that of an overheating subwoofer. Logan glanced at his people, saw the heartbreak in their eyes and was content that what he was about to do was right.

  The rain stopped abruptly.

  “Get her out,” Logan yelled, stepping into the circle.

  Oddball stepped in and pulled Hardy clear.

  The need to chant had passed: now everything had been set into motion and could not be stopped by prayer or curse.

  Blackbird peered at the burly cop, barely conscious, well aware of the sacrifice Logan was about to make. “He is the key,” Grandfather had told him, but he had no idea that it would come to this.

  Logan walked toward the creature and as he did his people stood motionless. Hardy started to come around, but she was unaware of what was happening, and for that he was thankful.

  “I know you all think I’ve lost my mind and if I had time to explain I would, but Sabrina will be able to tell you. You are all my friends, and our journey together has been a pleasure. I love my children, my ex-wife and all of you.” He was standing before the Walker.

  His wet grey hair clung to his wrinkled brow.

  “Are you finished?” the creature asked.

  “I’m finished,” Logan said, raising his arms.

  It snatched him up in a cradling position, the stink of death, sour and malignant, rolling off it. Then it slashed his cheek open, blood spurting from the wound, but Logan didn’t wince.

  “Fuck me!” Mick was crying.

  The orb was opening now. Light poured from it, flooding the ground like gas. Oddball and Mick moved aside, afraid to be touched by the poison that spilled from it. Across from them, West and Findlay caught a glimpse through the portal and saw the other world.

  The Walker readied itself to spit into the gaping wound on Logan’s face when it saw him staring outward at something it could not see. He was smiling at something or someone – but not someone who was part of the ritual circle.

  “I’m coming, Old Jake,” he said.

  Then there was a crack, the smell of gunpowder, and his head snapped and fell over awkwardly against the creature’s chest plate. Slumped lifelessly in its arms, the service pistol tumbled from his hand and onto the muddy ground.

  At first, it didn’t understand, its eyes narrowing in confusion – and then the comprehension that it had been bested replaced the confusion with fury. It shrieked, tossing Logan aside, and went to finish off Blackbird. Scrambling across the ritual circle, it prepared to tear out his heart and eat it before them, even if the hunter was already dead.

  Collins could not believe what had just happened.

  Is Dave really gone?

  Blackbird lay bloody and broken as he watched Logan in those last moments reaching down, removing the gun from the holster as it cut open his face, understanding what Grandfather had meant. In the distance, he could see them waiting to take him home. They were in the woods, and beyond them was the passage.

  Now the creature was shrieking, casting the lifeless body of Logan aside, and then it came toward him to invoke its vengeance.

  Blackbird welcomed it as it bore down on him: it would mean the end. One of his eyes was now completely blind, a number of his ribs were broken and digging into the muscles of his right side. Beyond the imminent death, he could see the blurry figures moving outside the ritual circle. Grandfather, Toomey, Mother, and he smiled as he began to lose consciousness.

  Come and get me, Skin!

  The others watched Logan take his own life with equal horror. Numb disconnect melted over all of them as the creature shrieked in anger, discarded him and went in to finish Blackbird.

  All except West, who saw the orb cast forth the contents of its world. As the Walker scrambled across the circle toward Blackbird, it did not see the Master step through the portal or what looked to be numerous smaller carbon copies hanging about i
ts long and weathered frame. The Master unfurled itself and looked, unblinking, at all of them. It was humongous: twice that of the creature that had wrought havoc in this world. As it peered about, the smaller minions that clung to its body dropped to the ground and spread out defensively.

  Kill you, kill you!

  And then, from behind it felt an icy chill and the breathing of its own master. It froze only feet from Blackbird, standing motionless, no longer the dominant aggressor, and the rage in its eyes turned to fear.

  “Jeg Lo, Igwhot,” the Master snarled.

  The Walker fell to its knees and shrieked in frustration.

  “Kaw mau,” the Master ordered, its heavy voice undulating.

  Shrieking again, the creature stared beyond the circle, wanting to be free, angry at the trickery the new hunters had bested it with.

  Its eyes swirled with liquid mercury, and for a brief moment, Nero thought he saw the reflection of an old Indian in them. “Kaw seu, Igwhot.”

  The Master lumbered forward and snatched the shoulder of its wayward child, then dragged it along the ground. The smaller minions abandoned their defensive posture, swarming the Walker, biting it and tearing at its papery flesh as the orb began to hum and the world beyond it beckoned. The mist now flowed back into the sphere, being vacuumed from this world as they continued to bite and claw the creature. It cried out in agony, but the Master was oblivious as it dragged it back toward the portal.

  Instead, it looked right and left upon Collins and Oddball.

  “Kihci-manitow,” Oddball said.

  “Kihci-manitow.” Mick wiped his tears.

  “Dear God,” West gasped as the Master flung its ward through the portal. They heard one final shriek, and then it was tumbling away into the void.

  The orb hummed louder, lightning flashed, the last of the mist flowed back, and the creature leaned down and stared into Mick’s eyes. He tried to look away but could not: the giant towered above him at twelve feet, its head the size of a 100 lb potato sack. Its breath stunk of rot, and he thought it might reach through their flimsy ritual circle and drag him away to the void.

  “Kihci-manitow,” he said weakly.

  Prepare them, he heard a voice inside his head hissed.