The Diablo Horror (The River Book 7)

by Michael Richan

  “It’s worth a shot,” Roy said. “It might work. It might not.”

  “Did you bring it with you?”

  “Of course not. It’s back in Seattle, at my house.”

  “Let’s go back and get it. It’s our best chance. We can be back here by midnight and finish things. I’ll wake Jason.”

  “Let him sleep,” Roy said. “There’s no sense in all of us driving down and back. I’ll go get it. Stay here and watch him. See if you can figure out some other weakness in this ghost while I’m gone.”

  “You sure you’re not too tired? We could switch off driving.”

  “No, I’m fine. I’ll get going. The sooner we get this over with the better.”

  Roy took the car keys from Steven and walked out the front door. Steven heard the car start up and back out of the driveway.

  Steven walked back to the bedroom to check on Jason. He was still asleep. This is the room where the ax man killed his sons, Steven thought. While they slept.

  He pulled the door closed so that there was only a small sliver of space between the door and the door frame, then he walked back into the living room. His stomach was rumbling, so he checked the fridge in the kitchen. There were microwave dinners in the freezer. Brett wouldn’t mind, he thought, popping the dinner into the nuker.

  Once the food was done, he sat on the living room couch and ate it, running the plan through his mind, over and over. Dad blasts him with the EM gun, he pauses, I move in and slip the Agimat off him. I’ll only have a few seconds, and he’ll start moving again. Unless the gun does something else to him, something we aren’t aware of. It was tuned to work on ghosts downwind, so who knows how it will work up here. If it will work up here.

  He finished the food and sat the empty tray on the floor. The lack of sleep the night before was catching up with him. He decided to lie down on the couch.

  What other options do we have? he wondered, running through all of the ghost encounters he had with Roy since the beginning, trying to recall if any of them might suggest a solution. He couldn’t think of any.

  Slowly his eyes closed. We need a backup plan if Winn’s EM gun doesn’t work, he thought. Maybe trap it somehow? Trick it into remaining still? From what he’d seen of the ax man, that was going to be a tall order. Maybe after he kills his wife, Steven thought. Roy said he sits on the bed, waiting for the miracle to happen. Maybe then. No, that won’t work either. He’ll notice the Agimat rising from his neck, like before, and he’ll grab it. Or, maybe he’ll be scared of it and let it come off him. Worth a shot.

  As a backup plan, it’s shitty.

  He tried to open his eyes, but his body didn’t want to. It was shutting down, ready to sleep. His mind wanted to keep running, searching for some alternative that might work, but his body was saying otherwise.

  Another thirty seconds, and he was out.

  ◊

  Steven awoke and walked into the first bedroom on the right. I’m dreaming, he thought. This doesn’t feel right.

  He stood just inside the doorway, looking down at one of three small beds that were crammed into the room. In the corner, between two of the beds, was movement – a dark figure, crouched on the ground. The more he stared at the figure, the better he could see it – wearing jeans, no shirt. Holding something. A long handle. And a face – staring at him from the corner. Watching him. Thinking. Smiling.

  I feel rooted to the ground, he thought, wanting to turn and leave the room, but unable to control his feet. He looked down at them – he couldn’t get them to move. He looked up – he was standing in front of a bed. In the bed was a little girl.

  More movement from the corner. He watched as the man rose from the ground. The room was dark, but not dark enough that he couldn’t see the man lift the ax as he walked. The man’s eyes, bright and wide open, focused on the child in the bed, and his mouth twisted into a smile, wild, maniacal, contorted in some sort of religious delusion and ecstasy. When the man raised his ax, Steven wanted to shout out. He opened his mouth, but nothing emerged. He tried to expel air from his lungs, but it was as though he was empty, with no breath to expel. As the man swung the ax down, he saw the Agimat glowing in the dim light, lifting slightly as the muscles in the man’s chest heaved. Was the man crazy? he wondered. Was the man really testing its abilities and his faith? Or did the Agimat drive him to do it somehow? Was it his crazy religious faith, or was it the Agimat’s fault?

  The ax landed at the girl’s legs, severing one of them. Her eyes shot open as the man raised the ax again. Steven saw blood begin to soak the white sheets. No! he thought, but he knew he couldn’t stop it. It wasn’t really happening. He couldn’t stop something that happened many years ago, something that had been repeating in the house over and over, thousands of times.

  The girl opened her mouth to scream and her father brought the ax down into her chest, silencing her before she could emit any sound. Steven heard a sickening crunch as the ax pierced through her ribs. It looked huge, buried in her small body. He looked up at the man – same wild smile, a complete lack of reality behind his eyes, convinced he was doing the right thing.

  He yanked the ax out of the girl and raised it again, but as he watched the final moments of the girl’s life, he seemed satisfied and turned. He walked to one of the other beds where another girl, this one barely older than the first, lay in bed, sound asleep, completely unaware of the horror that just occurred not more than ten feet away, and the murderer above her, about to commit her to the grave.

  Steven saw the death from behind, the man’s body mercifully blocking the view. It was over within an instant, this time going straight for the child’s heart. After a moment, he raised the ax from the girl’s chest and was moving to the third bed.

  Steven tried to wake himself from the dream, or the vision, or whatever he was witnessing. I’m asleep, he thought. The ghost is replaying the events while I sleep. When I’m in the River, I can control things, where I go, what I see. But this is a dream – as much as I want to, I can’t control this.

  The ax man raised his weapon once again, and Steven tried to close his eyes as the ax fell and entered the third girl, but he couldn’t. He didn’t have control over his eyes. He’s making me look, Steven thought. He’s forcing me to see it, to be part of it!

  The man raised his head from the grisly death he’d committed and turned to look at Steven. He smiled, as though he agreed with Steven’s assessment – he wanted Steven to be part of it. This time through the loop, Steven was a real witness, sharing in the man’s deluded fever. Steven would watch the resurrection and testify of the man’s faith to others.

  The ax came up, out of the girl. The window behind illuminated the dark liquid that dripped from the blade. The man looked around the room at his handiwork. Steven looked too. Forced to look, he thought. He’s forcing me to look.

  The man turned and walked around the beds, past Steven and into the hallway. Now Steven felt a greater sense of alarm than before, something new, something more frightening than even the horrific deaths he’d just been forced to witness.

  He felt his legs move, following the man into the hallway. He walked to the next bedroom on the right. The door was cracked open a half inch, just as I left it earlier, Steven thought.

  The man walked up to one of the beds. A boy, maybe twelve, was lying in the bed on his side. He had his hand up, covering part of his face as he slept. No! Steven thought. Don’t make me watch this!

  The ax man brought the blade down squarely in the boy’s torso, nearly severing him in half. Blood fanned up on the walls. Steven thought he was going to pass out. God, let me black out and end this, he thought. Let this stop! I can’t watch anymore!

  But he felt himself turning to face the other bed. The bed where Jason slept.

  The man raised the ax above Jason. He turned to look at Steven before he brought it down, as though he was asking permission to kill him. Then he stopped. He lowered the ax to his side. He looked at Steven again, his freakis
h smile twisting in the moonlight. He handed the ax to Steven.

  Steven’s arm went up, taking the ax from him.

  What the fuck am I doing? Steven thought. He tried to drop the ax, but he couldn’t.

  The man stepped back from the side of the bed, and Steven took his place. He looked down. Jason’s eyes were open, watching him. His mouth opened as he tried to speak, but couldn’t.

  Wake up! Steven thought. Stop this dream!

  Then he felt the thoughts, the irrational, crazy, deluded thoughts that must have been racing around the mind of the ax man. He turned to his left and saw the man standing next to him, lending moral support for the task at hand, somehow possessing his mind. My faith is more than strong enough! he thought, not sure if it was the man’s thoughts or his own. The Agimat will save them all, and God will see what tremendous belief I have in him. And we will be blessed. I won’t have to work so hard to provide for this family. God will shower us with goodness and mercy and miracles, all because of my faith in this moment. With God, nothing is impossible. Watch him heal them all! Steven began to raise the ax.

  He could see Jason below him. Jason’s eyes went wide at the sight of the ax. He knew Jason wanted to raise his hands to defend himself, but something was stopping him. Jason wanted to roll off the bed, get out of the way of the weapon, but he couldn’t move. Steven looked again at the man to his left – he was controlling Jason somehow, keeping him immobile for the attack. Not in the same way that he was possessing Steven – no, it was different. He couldn’t possibly possess us both at the same time, Steven thought. He’s gained control of me, but how is he stopping Jason?

  Steven listened. The man to his left was repeating a word, over and over, softly. Every time he said it, Jason would freeze for a moment. Then he’d start to move again, and the man’s word would cause him to stop again. Somehow he was holding Jason down, using something inside Jason to keep him still, like a lamb on an altar.

  Steven raised the ax, trying to resist. Once the ax comes down, the Agimat will heal Jason back to life. And God will be so, so pleased. My wife will love me again, and respect me, as she should. The people at church will marvel at the miracle of my faith. This test will prove to them all that I am worthy, that God really loves me, loves them. This is his will, because I know I must do it, and with him, all things are possible. Like Abraham and Isaac. A test, and I shall pass. Now he was convinced. He was no longer resisting. He mustered all of his righteous energy, putting all of his strength and the strength of God into the swing.

  Then he brought the ax down.

  Chapter Five

  Roy slapped Steven’s face repeatedly. Steven, lying on the floor, rolled away from Roy, trying to avoid the slaps.

  “Wake up!” Roy was shouting. “Wake up!”

  As Steven came to his senses, he remembered the dream. He was relieved it was over. Roy was still slapping him. “Dad?” he said. “Stop it.”

  “What have you done?” Roy yelled, still slapping at his face. “What the fuck have you done?”

  Steven raised himself up on one elbow. He was expecting to find himself on the couch, where he’d fallen asleep, but instead he was on the floor, a dirty brown carpet pressed against his skin. As he turned his head, he could see under a bed. There were small children’s toys under it. A ball, a G.I. Joe.

  He began to fill with dread. Roy stopped slapping him and backed away. Steven could tell Roy was upset. He was wiping tears from his face, looking at the bed next to him.

  Steven raised himself up more, his line of sight coming up from under the bed to the side of the bed. He was afraid to see what might be on top of it. He stood up slowly and looked down. Jason was lying on the bed, face up. The skin of his face was white.

  “I should have never left you two alone,” Roy said. “Deem warned me. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

  Steven bent over Jason, shaking him. “Jason! Wake up!”

  “He’s got no pulse, son.”

  Steven felt for a pulse, horrified at how cold Jason’s wrist felt in his hand. He could tell Jason wasn’t breathing. A wild swirl of emotions began in his stomach and started to rise up to his chest. It reached his throat, and he felt as though he might throw up. He shook Jason again. Jason didn’t respond.

  “He’s dead!” Roy repeated. “He’s been gone for a while. Stop shaking him.”

  Steven turned to look at Roy. He was confused, angry, disbelieving. “How can he be dead?”

  “I don’t know,” Roy said. “You tell me.”

  This is a dream, too, Steven thought. I need to wake up.

  He examined Jason’s body. He couldn’t see any marks, any blood. “But how?” Steven said, the emotion rising in his voice, the confusion and anger and disbelief turning into grief. I know how he died, Steven thought. I know.

  Steven started pressing on Jason’s chest, performing CPR. He opened Jason’s mouth, checking for blockages, and blew into his lungs, repeating the steps he’d learned in a class at work. He kept at it for several minutes, checking for a pulse but finding none.

  Roy turned away from Steven. “Fuck you and this demon!” he said, storming out of the room. He walked into the living room and thought about walking outside, but then changed his mind. Instead, he sat down on the couch in the living room and began to cry.

  Steven stopped the CPR, and examined Jason again. He could tell Jason was gone, and had been long before he’d risen up off the floor. Seeing Jason’s body lying still in front of him seemed so wrong, so sudden. The ax man, he thought. He gave me the ax. I held it, I swung it at him. I killed him.

  Steven staggered into the hallway and stopped when he reached the living room. He saw Roy sitting on the couch.

  “I killed him,” Steven said, almost not believing the words that came out of his mouth.

  “You wouldn’t kill your own son,” Roy said through his tears.

  “I thought I was dreaming,” Steven said. “The man with the ax, I was forced to follow him. He made me…”

  Steven stopped, unable to finish.

  “Here’s your fucking Agimat,” Roy said, tossing the object toward Steven. It landed at his feet. “Hope it was worth it.”

  “What did you see?” Steven asked. “Tell me what you saw.”

  “When I came in, I found the ax man in the living room. I shot him with the EM gun, which worked, by the way, at least long enough for me to take the Agimat off him. The moment I did, he disappeared. Without it he didn’t have enough energy to manifest. Then I found you and Jason in the bedroom. I noticed he wasn’t breathing. I felt for a pulse, but there was none. Then I woke you up. That’s the whole fucking story.”

  Steven turned to walk back down the hallway. He went into the bedroom, hoping that as he walked in, he’d find Jason still sleeping, and he’d wake him up so they could go back to Seattle.

  He stepped up to the bed and sat down next to Jason’s body. Then he picked him up and held him. He touched Jason’s head, and he felt the cold skin. That’s when he felt something rip inside him, and he started to cry.

  Oh god, he thought. He’s dead. He’s really dead.

  ◊

  “Are you sure you’re OK to drive?” Roy asked.

  “No, I’m not sure about anything,” Steven said. They had loaded Jason’s body into the back seat of the car and covered him with a blanket, then closed up the house and headed home. They decided to return the keys to Brett later, along with the news that he could safely return to Diablo. For now, Steven’s only thoughts were about Jason. That, and the meeting he was about to have with Aka Manah.

  “I killed him, Dad,” Steven said, feeling numb. “In the dream, the ax man’s thoughts were in my head. I was thinking like him. He handed me the ax, and it seemed like the right thing to do. I deserve to be in jail. I deserve to be dead.”

  “You weren’t in your right state of mind,” Roy said. “You realize we can’t turn Jason over to a mortuary. There would be questions. We have to… take care of h
im ourselves.”

  “I should be charged,” Steven said. “Charged, tried, and incarcerated.”

  “You killed him in a dream, a dream you were forced to have,” Roy said. “We still don’t know how he actually died.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I know what I did.”

  “You know what the ghost wanted you to believe.”

  “That’s no ghost in the back seat, Dad. He’s gone.” Steven began crying again, wiping the tears from his face with the back of his hand.

  “I hate to say this, but we have to bury him, somewhere. And soon.”

  “It’s not fair. It’s not right. I don’t want him buried someplace out in a forest, some anonymous grave to hide what I did.”

  “Well,” Roy said, “why don’t we bury him somewhere beautiful, then? Like under the banyan tree at Eximere? Next to Thomas, his ancestor?”

  As Steven thought of this, he felt a small fraction of his anguish peel off. They had never been able to show Eximere to Jason while he was alive, but it was the perfect place for him to rest. Private, beautiful, and somehow appropriate for a gifted.

  “Alright,” Steven said. “Eliza will have to know the truth, if he’s going to rest there.”

  “We’ll tell her,” Roy said. “We’ll have to. She’ll understand. She’s been involved with Eximere and the demon from the beginning.”

  “Are we going to tell her I killed him?”

  “I’ll leave that in your hands to decide.”

  “What about the rest of the world? Jason becomes a missing person?”

  “I can’t see any other way. Let them discover him missing at his apartment. When the investigations start, we’ll have to say we never saw him.”

  Steven broke down crying again. “I loved him,” he said, trying to drive with tears streaming down his face.

  Roy reached over and grabbed Steven’s shoulder, a rare display of physical affection. “I did too,” he said, giving his shoulder a pat. “I did too.”