God Stones: Books 1 - 3

by Otto Schafer

  “What’s that mean, Pops?” Paul asked.

  Charles sprawled out onto his stomach next to her as she handed him her flashlight. “It means a hell of a lot! You know who else used a medieval cross?”

  If it were somehow possible, Breanne’s smile widened even further. “The Knights Templar!”

  11

  The Date

  Present day

  Petersburg, Illinois

  When church finally let out, Garrett saw Pete heading towards him with wild in his eyes. He slapped Lenny on the shoulder. “What’s with him?”

  “Hell if I know, but I think we’re about to find out.”

  “Christ, Lenny, you swearing in church?”

  “Doubt God cares any more about me saying hell or you saying his name like that, seeing how they threaten us with going there all the time,” he said with a shrug.

  “Fair point.”

  Eugene appeared from around a row of pews, also heading right towards them and just about as excited as old Pete was. “Boys, did you bring those pennies for the pond? I believe I owe you a wish,” Eugene said, stopping Pete mid-stride. “Why don’t you come on by the house. I’ll make good on my promise, and while you’re there we’ll get you a glass of Lilith’s fresh-squeezed lemonade.”

  “Okay, Eugene, that’ll be swell – we’ll head right over,” Garrett said.

  “Garrett, we need to talk about the book,” Pete said, whispering into Garrett’s ear.

  Garrett yanked his head back. “Easy, man, I’m not your girlfriend. Just wait till we get away from the church.”

  Lenny raised an eyebrow.

  The boys made their way out of the church parking lot and onto the street where Eugene and Lilith lived. The old Victorian was a short walk.

  “What are you two whispering about?” Lenny asked. “Wait, let me guess – hmm, I would say Pete is probably giving you crap about using the word ‘swell’ in a sentence,” he said, laughing at his friend. “That’d be swell, Eugene,” he mocked with a wink, as he hooked a punch into the air with exaggeration. “Either you been watching too much Nick at Nite or we suddenly stepped through a time portal to the 1950s.”

  “I don’t know, he’s freaking old! Old people like that stuff. Tell you what, Lenny, how swell would it be if I kicked your ass?”

  “You wish,” Lenny replied.

  When they were sure they were out of earshot from Eugene or any other potential prying ears, Garrett nodded to Pete. “So, what’s up, Pete?”

  Abruptly Pete stopped, then reached out and caught their arms, pulling them close. “Guys, get serious for a minute. Some stuff happened last night after I left,” he whispered. He looked over both shoulders as if he expected someone to be following them. Seemingly satisfied, he proceeded to peer at them over the rim of his glasses, all schoolteacher serious.

  “Dude, what the hell is wrong with you? Have you lost your shit or are you trying to get your hand broke?” Lenny asked, shaking Pete’s hand off his arm.

  “What stuff?” Garrett asked.

  “I was able to read the first pages, and it’s very weird. At first, I couldn’t make sense of it, but then when I woke up this morning, I knew the date. I know the date!” he said excitedly.

  “Hold on, Pete, back up a second. What date? What are you talking about?” Garrett asked.

  Pete launched into a quick explanation, then read his transcription of the journal passage in a deep, formal voice. “At first the date didn’t click, but I figured it out in my sleep—”

  “Number one, why did you read the note in that creepy voice?” Before Pete could offer any sort of explanation, Lenny said, “Never mind, I don’t even want to know. Second, in your sleep? What do you mean in your sleep?” He turned to Garrett and, pointing a finger at his head as he spun it in circles, sang out, “Craaazy!”

  “It doesn’t matter – the important thing is that I figured out the date, well, at least the year. Eighteen thirty-two was the year of the Black Hawk War!” Pete exclaimed.

  “There is something seriously wrong with you, Pete,” Garrett said. “I mean, who knows this kind of shit? I knew you practically lived in the library, but is that all you do? Sit around reading historical books? I would accuse you of being dropped on your head as a baby, but that doesn’t usually turn someone into a nerd.”

  “Screw you, Garrett.” Pete flipped him the bird. “I tell you this old book references the date of an historical event, and you want to give me crap,” he said, thrusting a thumb towards his chest.

  Lenny and Garrett just stared at each other. “Okay… so what? What does all this have to do with the book?” Garrett asked.

  Pete launched into a frenzy of explanation. “Potawatomi boy. Don’t you see? Whoever wrote this met up with a Native American that changed his life forever – gave him information that for some reason he, or maybe she, kept secret for what sounds like a long time, long enough to really bother this person. And the date, July tenth – I need to figure out what in history happened on July tenth. After we do this penny thing, we should go to my place and see what the next page says.”

  “Alright, Pete, I’ll go with you,” Garrett said, despite the fact he had gotten a total of three hours’ sleep thanks to his father’s bug-out and sleep-deprivation training. “Lenny, you in?”

  “No can do, fellas. If I don’t get home and get my chores done, I’m dead – meaning I won’t get to go to taekwondo class tonight, and no way am I missing class. You guys will just have to fill me in on what you find out. Garrett, you making class tonight?”

  “Yeah, man, wouldn’t miss it,” he said, giving Lenny a fist bump.

  “Cool, bro, I need a good sparring partner. Mr. B is so big, and he hits like a mule,” Lenny said, before turning to address Pete. “Seriously, you’re the smartest guy I know, but I got to tell you, man, that whole Native American thing sounds like a pretty far-fetched theory to me.”

  Pete looked at Lenny over the top of his thick glasses, sighed, and shook his head.

  They arrived at the driveway of the old Victorian, and Pete stopped abruptly. “Guys, wait, there is one more thing you need to know. Don’t be pissed… but…”

  Both the boys stopped and stared expectantly because a statement like “don’t be pissed” meant they were going to be pissed.

  “Jack and Albert know about the book,” he mumbled.

  Garrett’s eyes morphed to twice their normal size. “Pete! Why would they know?”

  “They cornered me on the way home last night! I thought they were going to try and take it but—”

  “Shit, man. Why didn’t you hide it or run or something?” Lenny asked, shaking his head.

  “You weren’t there, man. I did the best I could. Besides, they didn’t get it, and I didn’t tell them where I got it. Well… they might have guessed… since they knew where I had come from.”

  “Pete? Why would you tell them where you’d been?” Garrett asked, slapping a hand to his head.

  “You weren’t there,” he repeated. “They didn’t get the book! Maybe they suspect, but they don’t know where I got it. Now, lay off me. You have no idea how close I came to getting my ass kicked.”

  “Smooth, man,” Lenny said.

  “Whatever!” Pete shot back.

  “Let’s get this over with and get to your house,” Garrett said, idly kicking at the loose gravel in frustration. Jack was a problem he didn’t need.

  “Sorry, Garrett,” Pete said earnestly.

  Garrett patted Pete’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Pete.”

  They arrived at Eugene’s pond, where they were treated to glasses of fresh-squeezed lemonade. “Now, boys,” Eugene said, squatting slightly, like a wrestler preparing to shoot in on his opponent, “when you throw your pennies, make a wish, but for Pete’s sake—” He paused, glancing over at Pete. “No pun intended, Peter.”

  Pete raised an eyebrow.

  Eugene smiled and continued, “For Pete’s sake, don’t tell anyone you
r wish. If you tell it to anyone, it won’t come true.” Then, still holding his awkward squat, he began retreating a few cautious steps, as if he were carefully backing away from a grizzly bear he had just stumbled upon. Satisfied, he motioned the boys to proceed.

  The boys tossed their pennies into the pond.

  “Great job, boys!” Eugene announced, applauding. “Alright, now I know you boys are in a hurry, but Garrett, if I could have just a moment to talk business?”

  “Sure, Eugene,” Garrett replied, then turned to Pete and Lenny. “I’ll hurry.”

  Eugene put his hand on Garrett’s shoulder as they walked over towards the house. “I still have all that drywall that I need to get removed from the basement. Would you be interested in taking care of that for me this week?”

  “I sure would, but I am working early cleanup at the park a few days a week, and I take and teach martial arts a couple times a week. Can we do it this coming weekend?”

  “Martial arts, you say? What sort of martial arts?” Eugene asked with interest.

  “I teach advanced taekwondo, hapkido, and advanced sword fighting.”

  “Oh, my. I should say you’re a busy young man. Well, this coming weekend would be fine, Garrett, just fine.” He chuckled as he attempted a poorly executed karate chop. “Just don’t be using any of those karate moves on me. Now you better run along – your friends are getting antsy.”

  “See ya later, Eugene. Thanks again.”

  The boys sped down the driveway of the old Victorian and back out onto the road.

  “I got to split, fellas,” Lenny said, as he broke off from the two and began sprinting down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street.

  “Later, man,” Garrett shouted after him, then turned to Pete. “Let’s get to your place and figure out this book.”

  On the way to Pete’s, Garrett convinced him to jog. Pete was definitely not a runner, any more than Garrett was a walker, so a light jog seemed a good compromise.

  “Pete, can I ask you something?” Garrett asked.

  “Shoot,” Pete said.

  After Lenny’s reaction, Garrett knew he needed to be careful with how he asked. “Does your mom make you do night-time chores?”

  Pete hesitated, then said, “What, like take out the trash, clean my room type stuff? I mean, yeah, hell, I got to clean the whole apartment on Saturdays. Before you ask, I don’t get much allowance either. Why you asking – you need to borrow money or something?”

  “What! No, I don’t need to borrow money,” Garrett said. “I mean, do you, like, have to do training in the evenings?”

  Pete slowed his jog to a walk. “Training for what?” Pete asked.

  Garrett stopped altogether.

  Pete stopped, too, and the two boys faced each other.

  Garrett looked over his shoulders, then back to Pete, searching his eyes. “You know, training?”

  Pete frowned. “No, Garrett, I don’t know. I spend most of my time at the library. I don’t participate in sports. You know that. What kind of training are you talking about?”

  Garrett searched his eyes again. “Never mind.”

  “Never mind? You ask me a weird question like that, and then you say never mind?”

  “Let’s just get back to your place and check out this book. Can you jog?”

  “Crap, do I have to?” Pete moaned.

  When the boys arrived at Pete’s twenty minutes later, their excitement turned to dread as they saw who sat on the front stoop of the apartment building, waiting for them.

  “What’s up, boys,” Jack said, standing up to greet them. “I figured you’d be showing up soon, Pete, but I been waiting a while.” He turned his head and spit a long stream of brown tobacco juice into a shrub, then nodded at Garrett. “What’s up, Garrett?”

  Garrett shrugged indifferently, doing his best to look casual. Nothing to see here, dickhead, now go away, he thought. He couldn’t stand Jack. No one could, yet somehow, he was tolerated. The somehow really wasn’t a secret – it was just something Pete preferred never be mentioned. It seemed only a matter of time before Pete would be calling Jack stepbrother.

  Jack stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the door of the apartment building, blocking their path. “Yeah, probably going up to check out Pete’s little find, I figure. Hell, I think I’d like to check it out, too, seeing how Pete was acting all secret about it last night.”

  “You going to just stand there in the way or what?” Garrett asked in annoyance.

  “Riiight,” Jack said, grinning at Garrett. “Why? You going to make me move?”

  Garrett locked eyes with Jack for a long, silent moment.

  It was Jack who broke the silence first. “Or maybe I will move. Maybe Pete’s ready to show me why he was acting all secret last night.” Jack shifted his glare to Pete.

  “Maybe, or maybe it isn’t any of your business, Jack,” Garrett said.

  Garrett watched the switch flip behind Jack’s eyes. They went suddenly darker, colder, and they hardened to frozen right there in front of him. Frozen by the mean streak in Jack that ran as deep as the Sangamon. The reaction was as obvious as striking a hornet’s nest with a stick. Jack’s face flushed then, as he unfolded his arms and balled his fists. His lips curled back and he spoke, but his jaw was set tight as stone, unmoving. “Watch it, man – I will knock the fucking shit out of you.” He growled the words, biting down so hard his jaw muscles flexed.

  Garrett’s heart quickened, warning him he was on the cusp. He had pushed Jack into the red. Push any further, and he would be forced to fight him.

  Pete pressed his lips in a tight line, shot Garrett a look, and nodded towards Jack.

  Garrett understood. Pete wanted him to make Jack leave, whatever it took. With a single nod, his friend had given him permission to do what needed to be done. Garrett would not admit it to himself in the privacy of his own mind, let alone to his friends, but he was afraid of Jack. It didn’t make any logical sense, but despite his denial, deep down he knew it was true. Maybe it was because Jack was plain fearless, because when it came to fighting, Jack wasn’t even very good at it. But it didn’t matter, because Jack never lost. Garrett had seen a bigger kid give him the beating of his life and Jack just kept getting up, smiling through broken teeth and a mouth full of blood as he threw haymaker after haymaker until he caught the older boy with one and dropped him like a wet towel.

  “Well, Garrett, is it my business?” Jack asked as he dropped his balled fist low to his side, haymaker cocked and loaded.

  Playing it off, Garrett gave the boy a wry smile and held up his hands in mock surrender. “Just saying, man.”

  “Alright, guys, c’mon, let’s just go in and check it out,” Pete said, clearly disappointed.

  “Yeah, maybe that’s a good idea, before Garrett gets his clock cleaned,” Jack said, not breaking eye contact with the boy.

  Pete rolled his eyes and motioned Jack out of the way. Jack stepped aside, then followed Pete in. Garrett followed after, letting out a long sigh of relief. He had only now realized he had been holding his breath.

  The three boys entered the apartment building single file. As they crowded around Pete’s apartment door, Garrett made sure to catch Pete’s eye as he fumbled for the key. Summoning all his focus, he did his best to convey a look that said, only tell him what you must. Yet despite all of Garrett’s telepathic effort, Pete returned a look containing a scrunched brow.

  “So, where did you get the book?” Jack asked as they entered Pete’s bedroom.

  “Like I already said, I found it on the way home.”

  “Found it where, Fud?” Jack asked.

  Garrett frowned.

  “In a box of old books sitting next to someone’s trash cans,” Pete lied.

  “Hmm. In a box of old books?” Jack questioned.

  Pete shifted uncomfortably.

  “Alright, well, now you know,” Garrett said. “Pete, turn the page already and let’s see what it says.”
>
  “Right,” Pete said, rubbing his hands together excitedly. “So, I created this humidity chamber to moisturize the pages in a controlled environment. What you want is for the moisture to be just right. Too much and the book could get soggy, destroying all the writing. The way it works is by pumping steam up through here and—”

  “Looks like a humidifier stuffed under a trash bag stretched over a chair to me,” Jack interrupted.

  “That’s because you’re an idiot,” Pete mumbled under his breath.

  “What did you—”

  “Alright already, Pete, we get it. Let’s go,” Garrett urged.

  “Fine. Now this will take a minute. I need my notepad to transfer the words from the book.” Pete gathered a notebook and pencil from his desk drawer, then, like a surgeon preparing to operate, he carefully tugged on the old jersey gloves. Ever so gingerly he persuaded the page to bend, and reluctantly the page obeyed, folding over without breaking.

  The boys stared over Pete’s shoulders.

  “Mmmhmmm,” he hummed.

  “What, Pete?” What is it?” Garrett asked, leaning against the boy as he tried to see if anything legible remained on the page.

  Pete shrugged Garrett back. “A little room, please,” he said. “Well, there’s text here, now I just need to copy it over.”

  The boys continued to watch over Pete’s shoulders as he carefully copied over the letters from the page to his notepad. “Most of this left page is legible, unlike the last page.”

  Finding what lies in hiding is only part of the journey. The Masons are everywhere and while I cannot say how many are in this elite sect; I can say with certainty they will stop at nothing to find the location of this secret. They have watched me closely for all xxx years and they xxx know my conscious grows heavy.

  “Why are you writing those x’s?” Jack asked.

  “Because it’s illegible, but I want to know there was a word there, so I write x’s where the word should be. Maybe later we can figure out what words fit if we need to.”