The Last Rite

by Chad Morgan

  “Her forsaken blood taken from her opens the gate,” the professor said. “Her blood freely given for those who love her closes it.”

  Daniel looked down at Bethany. She had been shy and withdrawn most of the day, but what he saw now wasn’t shyness but resignation. Bethany knew. The professor had filled his daughter’s head with this nonsense already, and she carried it like an anchor strapped to her back. He suddenly wanted to choke this professor until his eyes popped out of his head.

  “No way,” Daniel said. “Not happening.”

  “Grandfather, you can’t be serious!” Charlie shouted, getting to his feet. “She’s a kid!”

  Daniel looked at Charlie as he cast his gaze down at Bethany, and Daniel saw it – the love, the concern, the fear for Bethany. There was the start of a bond there. Charlie had rescued Bethany from the business suit people while Daniel was still trying to find her, and Daniel figured a good person couldn’t rescue a child without starting to feel a little bit like a father himself. Daniel wondered if the professor had factored that into his plans, or if the old woman had either.

  “Her blood is needed to close the gate forever . . .” the professor started to say.

  “Just like the princess closed it forever?” Daniel asked, not trying to hide his anger. “Yet here we are! ‘Forever’ doesn’t last quite as long as it used too I guess.”

  “It’s the only way . . .” the professor tried to say again, but he had the look of a man who felt he was right, and knew he was losing the argument regardless.

  “Says who?” Daniel asked. “Some ten-thousand-year-old piece of papyrus? Or some bitch just as old?”

  “And if you heard it from God himself?” the professor asked, his tone saying he knew the answer to his own question.

  “I still wouldn’t let her do it!” he shouted, standing up. “It’s insane! We’ll find another way.” Daniel led a reluctant Bethany by the hand away from the fire. “You’re all insane.”

  Charlie sat in stunned silence as Daniel marched off into the graveyard, vanishing in the fog and trees and tombstones. Daniel was furious, and Charlie couldn’t blame him. He was furious for Daniel, but it was the look on Bethany’s face that broke his heart. He had that look himself, back when his own father was still alive, before his grandfather began to raise him.

  Some white kid from school had beat the crap out of him because Charlie dared to not be white. Charlie went home with a black eye and a bloody nose, and his father was livid. Of course, he was home, unemployment on the reservation was high, especially in those days, and he was furious. He dragged Charlie to the boy’s house to confront his tormentor in spite of Charlie’s objections. All Charlie wanted to do was crawl under a blanket and cry, and he certainly didn’t want his father making a scene, which he did in splendid fashion.

  The expression he wore on his face that day, he now saw on Bethany. She was tired, and she didn’t want to argue over what his grandfather had already convinced her was what needed to happen. Of course, he was with Daniel, there was no way they were going to let a little girl commit suicide in front of them.

  He glared at his grandfather. “He’s not wrong, you know. What were you thinking?”

  “The child must sacrifice herself to seal the breach,” he said. He sounded disappointed that no one else agreed that Bethany should kill herself.

  He thought back to the shared look between his grandfather and Bethany. They had both known this before Charlie went out to save her, or at least the girl had some idea. His grandfather might have filled in some details, but the business suit people must have told the poor girl how she was a sacrificial lamb when they held her in the wood mill. That was enough to make Charlie see red, but the idea that his grandfather knew this whole time and didn’t tell him? Of course, his grandfather kept it a secret, he knew there was no way in hell he’d go along with it. Had Carolyn known? He couldn’t imagine his cousin would have agreed to this, but then again, before now he couldn’t imagine his grandfather planning for pediatric suicide.

  “Carolyn died to try to protect that girl, just so you can let her die?” he said. “Daniel’s right, there’s got to be another way. No contract is iron-clad. Take it from a lawyer, there’s always a loophole.”

  Charlie got up, grabbed his bow, and followed Daniel’s trail into the graveyard. He couldn’t see either Daniel or Bethany, but Daniel wasn’t shy about being heard, cursing as he stomped through the trees and gravestones.

  “Daniel, stop, please?” Charlie heard Bethany call out. Charlie turned towards the voice and trudged through the fog.

  “We’re getting the hell out of here,” Daniel said.

  Charlie could see them now, vague outlines in the fog. Daniel had led them to an area where the redwood trees grew in large and strange shapes. Charlie’s grandfather had shown him and Carolyn the grove when they were kids, the trees older than the country they now belonged in. The strange shapes were the source of superstitions and stories, most of which Charlie had forgotten.

  Bethany pulled against Daniel, jerking her arm from Daniel’s grip. “Daniel, stop!”

  Daniel stopped and turned to Bethany. Charlie walked up to the edge of the trees, leaning against the bark of one and watching the two square off. He wasn’t sure if the two knew he was there, the trees casting long shadows as the fog swirled around them. Charlie stepped forward to enter the circle of trees, then stopped, debating with himself if he should intrude or not.

  “Bethany . . .” Daniel started.

  “I have to do this,” Bethany said, and Charlie could hear the tears in the child’s words. “If the gate is open, the whole world will be like this!”

  Daniel paced, and to Charlie he looked like a lion in its cage. As he talked, his hands made angry gestures, as if pounding an invisible podium. “I don’t care. The price is too high. I wouldn’t let any child be sacrificed, let alone my own daughter.”

  “I have to do this, or a lot of people will die!” Bethany cried.

  The girl sounded like she was pleading to let her kill herself. It made his heart cramp up. God damn his grandfather for filling the kid’s head with this bullshit!

  “I don’t care,” Daniel said, with all the authority in the world in his voice. “I just found you, I’m not going to turn around and give you up!”

  Charlie heard the fear and anguish in Daniel’s voice as he turned away from Bethany. Charlie knew he did it to keep his daughter from seeing him fighting the tears back. Daniel took a few steps away from Bethany, but the girl followed him, begging Daniel to see things her way.

  “If I don’t do this, the world will burn!” Bethany cried desperately.

  Daniel turned on Bethany so fast and so hard, for the briefest moment Charlie thought Daniel was going to hit Bethany, and he stood up and grabbed his bow. Daniel’s eyes were wild with a fury Charlie had never seen and he yelled, “THEN LET IT BURN!”

  Daniel didn’t touch Bethany, but she reeled back just from her father’s intensity. Charlie was surprised to find he reeled back too. Daniel clamped down on his anger, but Charlie could still see the flames in his eyes as he growled, “Any world that would ask a father to sacrifice his only child isn’t a world worth saving.” Then he turned from Bethany and added, “I just found you. I’m not letting you go. You’re all I have left”

  “Aren’t you being selfish?” Bethany asked, and her voice had shifted from pleading child to a calm, almost adult voice, which sent chills up Charlie’s back.

  Daniel turned back to Bethany. “Maybe. Ask me if I care,”

  Bethany walked up to her father and wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her head on his stomach. It was the first time Charlie saw the two hug. He watched as Daniel laid his hands on the girl’s small back like he was afraid he’d break her, but when he hugged her and Bethany didn’t crack, he squeezed her to him with more confidence.

  “I don’t want to die,” she said, “but I don’t want the world to die either.”

  “Th
en I guess we need to find another way,” Charlie called out. The father and daughter turned towards Charlie as he walked into the grove. He gestured to the trees and said, “In the old days, my people wouldn’t come near this place. They thought spirits made the trees grow in those weird twists and everything, so out of respect to the spirits they left them alone.” Then he pointed to the tombstones. “Which is why the white man decided to bury their dead here. Figured us savages would be too scared of the trees to come and desecrate their graves.”

  Charlie stopped about an arm’s length away from Daniel and Bethany. Daniel asked, “Did it work?”

  Charlie shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t think we were ever the grave-desecrating type to begin with.”

  Daniel didn’t quite smile, but his frown softened, and Charlie figured that was as close as Daniel would get. “So, what do we do now?”

  Charlie scratched his head. “Well, I say we go get that scroll back. They don’t have the scroll, they can’t do the last rite. Once we have all the cards, we can figure out our next move.”

  Daniel nodded. “Sounds good. Where do we find them?”

  Charlie thought about it for a moment, then said, “They had Bethany over at the old mill. Looks like they’re already set up to do the last rite there.”

  “They would have moved it,” Daniel said.

  Charlie shook his head. “Grandfather says they can’t. Once the area is marked, it’s fixed for some reason. I have no idea who makes these rules, but I think they’re idiots.”

  “I’m coming too,” Bethany said.

  “No, it’s too dangerous,” Daniel said.

  Bethany took a step away from Daniel and looked up at him. “They won’t hurt me. They need me.”

  Charlie looked to Bethany, then to Daniel. “She’s right. They need her alive to sacrifice her for the last rite, and as long as you’re alive, they can’t do it. She needs to be forsaken, and I doubt you’re going to kill her yourself.”

  “No, Charlie, you and I will go get the scroll,” Daniel said. He then turned to Bethany and said, “But you, young lady, will stay here where it’s safe.”

  “But Daniel . . .” Bethany said, slipping back to her whiny child voice the way Charlie would slip his bow over his shoulder.

  “I said no, and that’s final,” Daniel spoke with an authority that silenced Bethany’s whining.

  Bethany said nothing but stood there simmering. It wasn’t Charlie’s place to say anything, but he suspected that, in spite Daniel’s words, this wouldn’t be the final discussion on the topic.

  The man in the business suit walked the perimeter of the saw mill, a can of spray paint in one hand and a stencil in another. Every few feet he would lay the stencil down and let the can spray the white paint onto the ground. Pulling the stencil away, the pattern of the sigil marked the ground. The sigil was from the Others, turning the lumber yard into his version of the graveyard. The avatars of creation wouldn’t be able to break past the sigils any more than the abominations could enter the graveyard.

  The sigils had to be placed carefully. If they were damaged by human hands, the wards would break, and the avatars would storm the lumber yard when Lightfoot and Burns launched their attack, so they couldn’t be easy for them to find. They also had to be close enough together, or the mystical forcefield they made would have weak spots that the avatars might be able to break.

  Placing the last sigil, the man in the business suit returned to the lumberyard’s office and dropped off the spray paint and stencil, then grabbed a flashlight and re-checked the perimeter again every few hours to ensure the sigils were intact.

  Soon, Lightfoot and Burns would be there, and the trap would be sprung. Then everything would be over. He couldn’t wait.

  41

  Daniel and Charlie had agreed to wait until the next morning to go get the scroll. Bethany listened to them debate the issue, weighing giving the bad guys time to prepare versus needing time to prepare themselves. In the end, they figured getting up early was their best compromise. The abominations were weaker and less active in the day, and while they were less confident in catching the bad guys while they were snoozing, there was a chance. They stayed in the caretaker shack for the night, but with both Daniel and Charlie glaring at the professor, it seemed colder to Bethany inside the shack than outside.

  They couldn’t see the sun rising, hidden by the fog of this other world if it even had one, but the first hint of light started to glow from the east. Bethany sat on a gravestone near the gate as Charlie and Daniel prepared to go, the professor standing by her. Daniel was loading bullets into a gun.

  “Where did that piece come from?” Charlie asked.

  “Sporting goods store,” Daniel said. “Was in the backpack”

  “Nice,” Charlie said.

  Bethany wasn’t sure what was nice about it. She thought guns were scary, unlike Charlie’s bow. The bow had soft, bright blue feathers on it and braids across its wood, and unlike a gun, you knew when it was loaded. The gun was just a hunk of metal, cold and black, and belched loud cracks when it fired.

  The two men open the gates. Standing in their way along the path was the wolf. The two men seemed mildly surprised, but Bethany was expecting her to show up. She sat, waiting for the moment she knew was coming.

  “Hey, there you are,” Charlie said to the wolf. “Was wondering if you were joining the party or not.”

  As the two men headed out, the wolf stood and snarled at them. Now, this did surprise the two men as the wolf bared her teeth at them. They raised their hands up in a surrendering gesture, but as Bethany hopped off the gravestone and walked over to them, she knew the men didn’t understand what they were surrendering too.

  “Whoa, girl,” Daniel said. “It’s us.”

  “I don’t think she wants us to leave,” Charlie said, though he wouldn’t take his eyes off those white teeth.

  “What’s up?” Daniel asked the wolf.

  Bethany walked up behind them. “I said I was coming.”

  All three of them, the two men and the wolf, looked to Bethany. The wolf stopped snarling, walked around Daniel, and stood next to Bethany. Together, the two look up to Charlie and Daniel.

  “I said no,” Daniel said.

  The wolf let out a small woof of protest. All eyes were on Daniel as Charlie said, “I think she has other ideas.”

  About an hour later, the four of them were marching down the uneven dirt road towards the sawmill. Daniel said nothing the entire time, fuming over being overruled and forced to take Bethany with them. He had argued with the wolf, which in another time would have been really funny, seeing Daniel giving rational arguments and trying to convince the mute animal to see his point of view, but no one doubted the wolf understood what was said. However, nothing Daniel said would convince the wolf to allow them to leave without Bethany. She knew Daniel was mad, but at the same time, he wouldn’t leave her side as they walked. She felt safe by him, this man that was little more than a stranger, and at the same time way more now than just a father. Walking along her other side was the wolf, who was something more than a wolf. Bethany lay her hand in her fur as they walked. And behind them was Charlie, another stranger that was now more than a friend.

  They entered the old sawmill. Logs stacked up in rows made a bark-covered maze. Under the office, they could see what looked to Bethany like the front of a church where the priest talked, but unlike a warm and welcoming church, this altar looked scary. The colors were red and black, angry colors of blood and darkness.

  “Don’t get any funny ideas,” Daniel said to Bethany.

  “Like what?” Bethany asked. She really didn’t know what he meant.

  “You know like what,” Daniel said, and Bethany caught what he meant in his eyes. Daniel meant sacrificing herself. The wolf didn’t argue, though Bethany wasn’t sure if that was because she agreed, didn’t hear Daniel, or didn’t understand him. It was a safe promise to make. Daniel instilled her with hope, that there wa
s a way to fix all of this without having to die to save the world.

  “We walk in, get the scroll, walk out,” Charlie said. “Easy peasy.”

  Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Think it’ll be that easy?”

  “We have surprise on our side,” Charlie said.

  Just them, booming over an outdoor speaker system, the business suit man’s voice said, “Welcome, Mr. Burns. We’ve been waiting for you.”

  The business suit people stood up on the walkway outside the elevated offices, staring out over the entire saw mill grounds. In his hand, the business suit man held the scroll.

  Daniel looked to Charlie and said, “You were saying?”

  Charlie gave Daniel an apologetic look but said nothing.

  “I don’t suppose we could broker a deal?” the business suit man said. He was speaking into something in his hand, some kind of microphone, Bethany guessed. “You bring your daughter to me, and we could make you a very rich man, Mr. Burns.”

  Daniel tried not to laugh. “What good would that do me once the world ends?”

  The business suit man spread his arms wide. “Those of us who are in service to the Others will be spared and greatly rewarded.”

  “You buy that?” Daniel shouted back.

  “A contract is a contract, Mr. Burns,” the business suit man said. “What do you say?”

  Daniel made a face, like a cartoon character’s version of thinking, then he shouted, “I say `fuck off`!”

  Bethany almost burst out laughing. Adults didn’t say the f-word around kids, and the shock of hearing the forbidden word made Daniel’s reply that much funnier to her.

  “Regrettable,” the business suit man said, “but not unexpected. We require either your cooperation of your death. If we can’t have one, we’ll have the other.”

  The business suit man snapped his finger. From behind the rows of stacked logs, abominations of all types jumped up on top the piles and stared down at them. They crawled along the logs and stalked them, their legs like coiled springs. Charlie slowly reached for an arrow from his quiver, and Daniel chambered a round in his shotgun. Bethany’s hand was still in the wolf’s fur, and she could feel it bristling up. They were surrounded.