Primitive

by J. F. Gonzalez

  Wesley nodded and slid behind the console. He thumbed a switch and spoke into the mike. "I read you loud and clear, brother."

  The guy stopped in mid-sentence. "Who do I have here?"

  "Wesley, broadcasting from Montana."

  I mouthed, is it a good idea to give away our location? Wesley nodded, gave me a thumbs up sign, but that didn't make me any calmer. For all I knew this guy could be a fraud.

  "Wesley from Montana, this is Tim from Chicago. Good to make your acquaintance."

  A second voice chimed in. Female. "This is Lynn from Massachusetts."

  A third voice, a kid's from the sound of it, probably no more than fifteen, male. "I'm Justin, from Maryland."

  Other voices chimed in. Male. Female. Young. Old. It became obvious these people had been on this guy's frequency for some time and had formed some kind of community here in radio-land. I lost track of the names, but there were roughly a dozen people, from all over the country. There were even a few from different countries; Australia, India, Germany, Brazil, Great Britain. As quickly as the introductions were made, Tim regained control. "We have several people broadcasting on different frequencies that are members of law enforcement and government. They're in secure locations I won't divulge. Some of them are working at establishing better communications with people overseas."

  I felt a great relief come over me. I slumped down in a chair, my heart thudding. Was it really happening? Was this some attempt at trying to restore order?

  "There was a guy named Stuart broadcasting with the WB3 call sign," Wesley said. "I think he was turned. He told me about...a traveling band of people who were killing people and taking hostages—"

  "That group is being monitored," Tim said. "Trust me, we're aware of them."

  I suddenly had a thousand questions. But where to start?

  "We just suffered casualties on our end," Wesley continued. "A bunch of primitives attacked us at our location and killed one of our people. They also...we believe, that is...that Hanbi raised them back from the dead."

  "Hanbi has the power to do that," One of the people said. This was a woman, older by the sound of her voice. Educated. "Hanbi is Satan, you know."

  "No, I don't know," Wesley said. "I'm flying along with this whole Hanbi ancient God bullshit theory by the seat of my ass, lady. This thing is fucking real, it's not some fucking supernatural boogeyman that's—"

  "You listen to me, Wesley," the woman said. The tone of her voice was direct. Commanding. In a past life she sounded like she could have been a schoolteacher and a firm disciplinarian. "This is not the devil of the pitchfork and hellfire and brimstone that Christianity teaches. This is a creature that was alive hundreds of thousands of years ago when primitive man first walked the earth. He was strong then, and their faith in him now has increased because there are so many more of them. When primitive man came back, his belief systems came back. Therefore, Hanbi returned."

  "So Hanbi was real to them back then?" I ventured. "If that's the case, how come there's no archeological record?"

  "There wasn't any because primitive man had no way of recording his belief system," the woman said. "The only hint we have of Hanbi is from ancient Assyrian writings." I felt a glimmer of vindication there at my earlier readings from the books I'd pilfered. "And as for physical records like engravings or remains, the record is scant. But let me tell you something. There are thousands of records and artifacts we've found that we have no explanation for, artifacts that date back to the early Paleolithic era that are simply filed away in museum basements because we don't know what they are."

  "What are you, an anthropologist?

  I detected the hint of a smile on the woman's lips. "As a matter of fact, I am. I'm Wendy Campbell, professor of Anthropology at Franklin and Marshall College in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. My specialty is ancient civilizations and prehistoric man."

  I wanted Professor Campbell to confirm to me my theory of Pazuzu and Hanbi, my crazy theory that Hanbi was possessing the minds and bodies of the primitives at will, either alive or dead. I blurted this out and a couple of the people in our frequency chimed in to report they'd seen similar instances of possession. For a while we traded stories. Wesley related Stuart's story, when he witnessed the strange worship/ritual in downtown Philly and how the sacrificed primitive had been resurrected and how one of them began physically changing into an entirely different creature, a miniature version of what we were now freely calling Hanbi. "There's been long debate in my field as to whether Neanderthals held deep spiritual beliefs, much less performed sacrifices," Wendy said. "We just didn't know because we didn't have the evidence. I think it's safe to say those belief systems existed."

  "But this thing," Wesley said, leaning over the console. "How can it manifest itself into a flesh and blood thing and have such tremendous power?"

  "And how can it change people physically?" I asked.

  "It isn't flesh and blood, but it sure seems that it is," Wendy agreed. She was silent for a moment. I was about to interject something else when she resumed. "Stigmata occurred in our former world. Devout Catholics would often manifest the wounds Jesus received when he was crucified. There are dozens of documented cases on it. Sometimes the stigmata would appear unbidden, with no outward will of the penitent. Demonic possession itself continued to be a hotly debated topic in the Roman Church. The advent of modern psychiatry had a lot to do with its eventual relegation to the closet, but the Catholic Church continued to investigate cases of demonic possession up through the early years of this current century. And what of speaking in tongues? That language is said to be of the heavens, of the very angels themselves, is said to overwhelm those of strong religious faith during times of spiritual fervor?"

  I was wondering when she would evoke walking over burning rocks, self-mutilation for appeasement to various deities, or images of the Virgin Mary appearing in toast or the bark of a tree. She beat me to that last one. "And if you're expecting an explanation for images of the Virgin Mary appearing in a slice of pizza, then forget it. I don't take hallucinations seriously."

  I grinned. "So...Hanbi...or the manifestation of Hanbi, is the result of the collective will and belief of millions of people who have suddenly reverted to mankind's most primitive state?"

  "How is something like that possible?" Wesley intoned. "I mean...millions of people believed in an old dude who lived in the sky and had a long white beard and wore a long robe! How come he never physically materialized to clap his hands right before a fucking earthquake or tsunami or something?"

  "People believed in God," Wendy explained. "And they probably had that image as you described, thanks to Michelangelo's portrait on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. But I think it's very safe to say that believers of all Abrahamic belief systems did not believe that God would physically manifest in the flesh in our world. And even when the theory was put forth in fiction, God came in the form of George Burns or Alanis Morrisette. Or a Polar Bear. Even when God was portrayed as the old man with the long white hair and beard holding a staff, nobody seriously believed he looked like that. That image was carefully cultivated and refined over thousands of years. Likewise for other God-like figures. Christ, for instance. As much as various religious sects wanted to believe Christ would return to earth and whisk the saved to heaven before the end times, as many times as the tribulations were predicted by various sects, that failed to happen because I believe, deep down, buried in our subconscious, those who held such beliefs never really expected them to happen."

  "So why would this be any different?" I asked.

  "How much history do you know?" Wendy asked.

  "Quite a bit," I said. Wesley echoed this. Others chimed in their ignorance or knowledge of various historical events.

  "Think back five hundred years ago, to the Spanish Inquisition. To the Salem Witch Trials," Wendy continued. "The belief in witchcraft and devil worship was widespread. The belief in demonic possession was as common as you or I believing in the science
of gravity. Likewise, the belief that a person could be cursed with lycanthropy or vampirism was equally widespread. There are more cases of lycanthropy between the fifteenth and early nineteenth century than at any other time in recorded human history. Peter Stubbe is a well-documented lycanthrope. He was burned at the stake for being a werewolf in fifteenth century Germany. He's only one of many."

  "Stubbe was what we'd call a serial killer today," I said. I was well aware of the Stubbe case from a volume on true crime I had at my old house, in a time that seemed far away from me now.

  "True," Wendy observed. "But that doesn't explain the hundreds of cases I've unearthed in my graduate studies of medieval times. Witness accounts on record actually told of men—and women—physically changing into werewolves. Likewise, Church documents describe in great detail the physical changes that overcomes those who become possessed by demons or the devil himself."

  I was beginning to grasp what Wendy was trying to say. "So the stronger somebody believes in something like this, the more likely it's bound to happen?"

  "Exactly!"

  "Wait a minute." This from one of the other people we were talking to. "So what you're saying is that if people were overly superstitious and sincerely believed if they were cursed, let's say by lycanthropy...they had a greater chance of actually becoming a werewolf?"

  "In a sense, yes," Wendy said.

  "I think that is such bullshit," Lynn from Massachusetts said.

  "I think we all feel that way," Wendy continued. "But a fourteenth century—"

  "A fourteenth century ignorant, uneducated peasant would believe it," I finished.

  "Yes," Wendy said. "And the more concentrated the belief, the stronger the will to believe, by as many people as possible...the more likely the belief itself can manifest."

  "You're suggesting mind over matter," Wesley said.

  Wendy was silent for a moment. "That's exactly what I'm suggesting. Take telekinesis, for example. Telekinesis is the ability to physically move objects by the simple will of the mind. The focus of the mind on an object, like a pencil on a table, and to summon the power to move it...well, the phenomenon has been studied in controlled environments and proven. There were theories that everybody possesses some degree of telekinesis and are never aware of it, while in others it's much stronger, so much so that it's obvious they have the 'gift' of mind over matter."

  "Which means that psychotics who claimed they saw a giant purple bunny chasing them, or a pink elephant dancing down their street were literally speaking the truth?" Sarcastic, yes, but I couldn't help it. What Wendy was suggesting was ludicrous.

  "To some degree, yes," Wendy stated. "But the thing to remember is that those around them did not share their belief in the giant purple bunny, much less the pink elephant, therefore they never saw them."

  "But if enough people shared the belief, the purple bunny would be real?"

  "Not enough people, David. The majority of the human population."

  I let that sink in.

  "That could explain why certain places in the world that report hauntings, like Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, report higher occurrences in ghosts," Tim suggested. "When you visit Gettysburg you almost expect a ghost to show up."

  "True," Wendy said. "And I'm sure the combined will strengthens their manifestation in that area."

  "It would also suggest those medieval stories you mentioned," Lynn stated. She sounded like she was a pleasant enough lady. Mid-thirties maybe. "I remember reading stuff about medieval history, how people literally saw the devil."

  "Or angels or whatever," somebody else chimed in.

  "It would explain the stories of Pan in Greek mythology," Tim said. "The ancient Greeks were concentrated in a particular area, and their mythology was very centralized. Once Pan was described, those who saw him saw a little goat man frolicking with the fauns."

  "So in a sense, belief was stronger back then," Wesley said. He was nodding. He almost looked like he was accepting this crazy belief. If Martin could only hear this he'd go apeshit.

  "Belief was much stronger then," Wendy reiterated. "And belief was taken literally. Today even the most devout Christian can accept the scientific knowledge that the world wasn't created in six days but can see the Genesis story as allegory."

  "Try telling that to those crazy fuckers who started that Creationist Museum in Kentucky," I muttered.

  Wendy laughed. It was the first genuine human laugh I'd heard since this whole crazy mess started. "Again, the literal believers had become a minority. A vocal minority, I might add, but a minority nonetheless. But even among them, I'm confident that few of them literally believed Jesus would descend on a fiery throne to whisk His followers to Heaven in advance of the end times. They might have truly believed this, but I think as a species we've evolved so much from that part of our psyche—which many scientists call our belief center of the brain."

  "What's that mean?" Tim asked.

  "There was a scientific theory that all humans share a common trait," Wendy explained. "It's hardwired into our brains. Quite simply, it is the compulsion to believe in the extra-sensory, the spiritual, in a greater cause. It's an interesting theory, and a recent one, and could provide ample explanation for why entire families adhere to certain strong religious beliefs while others simply don't, even those who live in a community where they're outnumbered by deeply religious people."

  "So this compulsion..." I began, thinking out loud. "...in its most primitive form would compel us to not only believe, but to actually manifest that belief into being."

  "Precisely."

  Once again we were all silent as we digested this bit of information.

  "We don't know much about Hanbi," Wendy said, breaking the silence. "That can be attributed to Neanderthals and early Homo sapiens not leaving much in the archeological record. But judging from what I'm seeing in the past month or so since...since this travesty..." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I can see that Hanbi was not only a very real deity to our ancestors due to the primitive nature of that part of our brains...it's very obvious Hanbi was seen as an evil deity. If there was an opposite of Hanbi—a God representative—I haven't found it in the archeological records. The concept of God might have developed on a different level. Those who believed in a spiritual good probably worshipped through ways we don't understand yet. But Hanbi...Hanbi worship was different. I think it's safe to say that certain sects of primitive man worshipped him and believed he would manifest himself on earth."

  "Certain sects?" I asked.

  Tim cleared his throat. "Have any of you seen Hanbi?"

  "No," Wesley said.

  "We've heard the stories," I interjected.

  "Tell me."

  I reminded them of the story Wesley had told them earlier, the one Stuart related to us. When I was finished Tim said, "Stuart saw a very big mass of primitives running wild through the streets of Philadelphia. Those are what I'm starting to call the normal ones. Then there is that other subset...that second set you mentioned that drew Hanbi's image and performed the ritual."

  "Yeah?"

  "They were smaller in number, correct?"

  "According to Stuart they were."

  "He never saw the others?"

  "He never mentioned them."

  "They were probably hiding," Tim continued. "We're finding that primitives in large metropolitan areas remain there. They don't leave for open areas or rural communities, much less the surrounding countryside. They also tend to steer clear of those primitives who scrawl images of Hanbi on walls...or engage in ritualistic worship."

  I felt a chill run down my spine. "You've seen this?"

  Tim's voice was grim. "I see it every other day from this high rise I'm sitting in. The moment a pack of primitives who worship Hanbi draw near, other primitives scatter. It's like it's hardwired into them that Hanbi's followers are bad news. Are evil."

  I let this sink in.

  Wendy picked up on Tim's theory. "We think this was where the o
riginal theories of the devil came from. Perhaps he was conjured up by some spiritual leader to keep his clan in line and Hanbi's legend grew from there over the years to eventually manifest into what he later became."

  I had a thousand questions. The photos of those cave paintings in Spain. Had the spiritual knowledge of Hanbi spread wide in prehistoric times? For some reason, I believed this was the case.

  "And now that there are many more primitives," Wendy continued, her voice low. "Much more than ever in the history of mankind, that collective will has literally summoned him into an actual being. That is why he is here."

  "So to kill Hanbi, we have to kill as many primitives as possible," Wesley said. He glanced at me. How the hell were we going to do that?

  "Theoretically, yes," Wendy said. "It would seem to be the only way."

  Wesley blinked, sat up in his chair. "Uh...Wendy? You said there were survivors from our government and law enforcement online?"

  "Yes. They're monitoring other frequencies. There's a few dozen sequestered in a bunker somewhere in the DC area and they've—"

  "I'm a member of the US Army, One Hundred and Twenty-First Division, Fort Bragg, North Carolina," Wesley said. His voice was stronger now, more authoritative. "I need to know what frequency I can reach them at, and who to talk to."