He took some colored tabs and began to place them in key positions on the aerial map. “We will have four separate strike teams, designated Red, Yellow, Blue, and Green. Team Red will be led by me, Yellow by Khiem, Blue by Jamal, and Green by Lopez. Fortunately, there are a number of clearings at the base of the mountain that are large enough for choppers to land in. Each of the four Bell transports will carry a team and each team will take a separate quadrant of the mountain—north, east, south, and west. Each team will consist of ten commandos, ascending the slope of the mountain at an even pace. While the men are eradicating the mountain of living creatures, per your instructions, Skeeter and two other crack combat pilots will be circling the mountain in the Hueys, keeping watch.
“It should take us no more than an hour to climb the mountain, where we will meet above the forest level, where the vegetation gives way to rocky terrain.” Frag leaned over the map and indicated a gray splotch in the center of the map’s lush greenery. “This is our prime objective…the peak of the mountain. If you look closely, you can see that there is an entranceway of some sort in the stone face of the northern side, probably a cave. If the enemy is not successfully terminated during the ascending sweep, then it’s a safe bet that they will take refuge there. If it comes down to that, we have one of two options. We can send a special squad of ‘tunnel rats’ into the cavern: men who had experience with underground warfare in Vietnam. Or we can place a few charges of C4 around the entrance and permanently seal the enemy in.”
“I’ll let you know my decision when the time comes,” Dellhart said.
Jamal eyed the man suspiciously and then turned to his commanding officer. “What does he mean by that? It almost sounds like he’s calling the plays.”
“He is, in a sense,” Frag told them, hating to admit it out loud. “But rest assured, we’ll get the job done, cleanly and professionally, no matter who is officially in charge.”
“I can’t say that I like the idea of taking orders from this round-eyes, Colonel,” said Khiem. “You are the only white man that I trust. All the rest are lower than cow dung, in my opinion.”
“I love you, too, Khiem,” grinned Skeeter. He spat tobacco juice on the hay-strewn earth of the barn floor, then blew a wet kiss in the Cambodian’s direction.
Khiem’s hand flashed out, sending a shuriken arcing across the table. The Texan anticipated the move, however, and dodged the weapon. The eight-pointed star missed his right ear by mere centimeters and stuck in the planks of the barn wall beyond.
Dellhart seemed amused by the violent horseplay. “All I ask of you gentlemen is to earn the money I’m paying you. For the most part, I’ll simply be there to observe. And just to show you what a stand-up-guy I am, I’ll sweeten the pot a bit. Fifty thousand dollars extra to the first man to locate the meddler that we’re after. Sound fair enough?”
Lopez smiled. “More than fair, Señor Dellhart. For a bonus like that, I would follow a gringo like you to the fires of hell and back.”
“Speak for yourself,” grumbled Jamal. “I trust the white man about as much as Khiem does.”
Frag Hendrix didn’t like the direction that the discussion was taking. As he had first suspected, the presence of Dellhart was putting them on edge. “Let’s get something straight. I don’t want to hear any more talk about who you prefer to trust and mistrust. We’ve been an exceptional mercenary force for a number of years now. We’re different cogs of the same killing machine and you know as well as I do that one can’t work without the trust and support of the other. So I don’t want to hear any more conflict concerning the execution of this operation, do you understand me?”
Jamal, Khiem, and Lopez nodded quietly in response to Hendrix’s reprimand, while Skeeter sat back in his chair and grinned like a brier-eating mule. “That’s right, Colonel. Tell these pushy minorities to shape up or ship out.”
“And you,” grated Frag, directing his slate gray eyes at the lanky pilot. “You’d do good to keep your trap shut, before someone cuts your freaking tongue out and crams it down your troublemaking throat.”
Skeeter’s cocky grin faded. He regarded his superior sullenly, but said nothing in reply.
“Okay, I want you to outfit your respective teams with the gear and weapons they’ll need for the assault, then assemble them in the compound. I’ll go over the game plan once again for their benefit. Then we’ll head out.”
The three squad leaders saluted, then left the barn to prepare their troops for battle. Skeeter followed at a safe distance, heading for the helicopters to run a final safety and weapons check.
“You make my men nervous, pretty boy,” Frag told Dellhart as he lit himself a cigar. “And you make me nervous, too. In my opinion, you have absolutely no business being on that mountain during the operation.”
Dellhart’s easy smile turned into a hard grimace of sudden anger. “I bought that damned mountain, Colonel, so I’m certainly entitled to be there when you and your military misfits start shooting the place up. Besides, I have to look out for my interests. How do I know that clown from Texas won’t get trigger-happy and blow half of Pale Dove Mountain to smithereens with that armed chopper of his?”
Frag Hendrix glared at the smirking man in the polo shirt and dark shades. “Don’t worry about my men, Dellhart. They’ll do what needs to be done.” He matched the man’s smile with one of his own. It was a cold, contemptuous smile that matched the flinty glint of his eyes. “Anyway, you ought to worry about your own self while you’re up there. A lot of assholes like you died by deliberate ‘friendly fire’ in Nam. I’d probably have busted a cap on you myself back in ’68, but you bought your way out of it. This time, however, you might just have bought yourself into it. So watch your back. You never know when an old enemy might be sighting down on you.”
After Hendrix left the command station, Vincent Russ studied his boss, trying to gauge the man’s reaction. “Do you really think the guy meant what he said?”
Dellhart smiled. “Of course he did. But I’m not planning on being such a conspicuous target for the good colonel.” He reached into the high top of one of his hiking boots and withdrew a folded map. Russ recognized it as one of the infrared geological maps of the rural mountain. “You see, while Hendrix and his men are busy exploring the surface of Pale Dove Mountain, we’ll be doing a little exploring of our own…from the inside.”
On the drive back to Tucker’s Mill, Dale tried to cheer Alice up, showing her the great pictures that had been taken at Brice’s cabin the previous Friday. They had captured the entire transformation of Lance LaBlanc and his albino followers on film, as well as the flight of the doves and the Dark’Un in the form of a living pterodactyl. But no matter how much the boy tried, he couldn’t break Alice free of her sullen mood. She merely smiled and nodded, unsuccessfully trying to hide the worry and fear that surfaced in her brown eyes every few moments.
“Don’t worry about Rowdy,” he kept telling her. “Heck, he’s probably waiting for us at the store right now.”
“Maybe,” said Alice, but she didn’t look as if she believed it.
Dale returned the photos to their envelopes and regarded the brunette uncomfortably. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on in Tucker’s Mill. He knew that Gart and Rowdy had disappeared last night and there had been a bunch of local guys killed at the beer joint at the county line, Homer Lee Peck among them.
He could also tell that Alice McCray was worried over the mystery of Rowdy’s absence, just like Miss Mable was about the sheriff. Dale didn’t know much about love or any of that adult junk, but he did know that Alice liked Rowdy quite a bit, maybe in the same way Jenny Brice had grown to like his father lately. That was okay with him. He figured grown-ups were bound to get mixed up in that mushy stuff every once in a while. It just bugged him that the lady professor had lost her enthusiasm for their big discovery in the shadow of the musician’s sudden disappearance.
They reached Tucker’s Mill around ten-thirty and parked in f
ront of the market. As they were getting out of the rental car, Dale noticed something. “I wonder where Dad’s four-wheel drive is.”
When they climbed the steps of the porch and tried the front door, they found it locked. Alice shielded her eyes and peered through the windowpane at the store’s darkened interior. “Nobody seems to be here.”
Dale fished his emergency key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. “Dad?” he called. “Jenny? Where is everybody?”
They were answered only by silence. Then Alice spotted a paper bag lying on the front counter with a few hurried words scribbled on one side. “Take a look at this.”
Dale walked over and read the message on the sack.
WE’VE GONE TO PALE DOVE MOUNTAIN TO FIND GART AND ROWDY. STAY PUT AND WE’LL SEE YOU LATER.
It was signed MISS MABLE.
“So, what are we gonna do?” asked Dale.
“You’re staying put just like the note says,” Alice told him. “I’m going up there myself and see if I can help find Rowdy.”
“You’re crazy if you think I’m gonna hang around here,” Dale said, defiance flaring in his youthful eyes. “Besides, you’ll just get yourself lost up there. I know the mountain a lot better than you do. I can show you the best places to look.”
Alice stood there in indecision for a long moment. She didn’t want to take the child into a potentially dangerous situation, but she knew that what he said was certainly true. She had been on Pale Dove Mountain only once and she would surely end up walking around in circles without a guide to show her the way. It was against her best judgment, but she knew she had to take Dale. If she didn’t, she would probably end up as a handicap to the others, rather than an asset.
“Okay, come on. I don’t have time to argue with you about it.”
“Wait a second.” Dale ran to the back of the store to where the fishing and sporting supplies were located. He returned carrying a couple of aluminum baseball bats. “Might need a little protection up there, you know.”
“Good idea,” said Alice. She took one of the bats and they left the store. Soon, they were on their way south, toward the wooded peak of Pale Dove Mountain. They had forgotten to take their cameras with them this time, but they were more concerned with finding Rowdy and the others than taking snapshots of the inhuman changelings. In fact, they kind of hoped that they wouldn’t run into any of the strange beings—especially the one with the particularly dark disposition.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
After reaching the mountain, Glen parked the Ramcharger near Brice’s cabin and they set out on foot, following the flock of white doves up the western face of the wooded peak. The ascent led past the pine grove and on into the heavy stand of timber where kudzu and honeysuckle thickly carpeted the earth. Jenny and Glen were afraid that Miss Mable might have trouble climbing the mountainside, but the elderly woman was bound and determined to get to Gart as soon as possible. She traveled the steepening slope at a steady and relentless pace that the other two found hard to keep up with.
As they left the forest, the land gave way to scrubby thicket and bare boulders. The doves flew in a northerly direction and they were quick to follow. Once they began to climb the rocky terrain, Jenny turned to the others. “I know where we’re going,” she told them, her voice heavy with apprehension rather than enthusiasm.
Soon, they were on the winding pathway that led to the very tip of Pale Dove Mountain. Jenny slowly felt panic begin to surface. She tried to ignore the sensation, but it defied her, growing with each step she took up the narrow, flower-garnished trail. She felt as though she were reliving the recurring nightmare she had suffered since her youth. She hung back from Glen and Miss Mable, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. It was all precisely as it had been during the summer of her twelfth birthday—the delicate white petals of the blossoms, the heady fragrance of dogwood and rose, the flat rock where she sat reading Alice in Wonderland. She lingered beside the smooth stone, staring up at the last few yards of the pathway. There the beauty of the flowers gave way to the gray ugliness of thorny brush and barbed thistle. She could see the dark entrance in the craggy wall of the peak and Lance LaBlanc and the other albinos waiting there for them. Jenny watched as Glen and Miss Mable walked the rest of the way without a second thought. She, however, could not bring herself to go any farther. Every time she saw that black opening awaiting her, Jenny remembered what had emerged from it so many years before. She recalled the dark and dangerous incarnation of her father, grinning an iron-gray smile and snapping a black razor strop with lethal fury.
“Jenny?” called Glen from the top of the mountain. “Is there anything wrong?”
The blonde avoided his eyes. She sat down on the rock and shivered, despite the warmth of the sunny spring day. “I…I can’t go in there.”
Glen was about to go back down when LaBlanc raised a hand to stop him. “Let me talk to her,” he said.
Jenny sat there, breathing hard, feeling a wave of dizziness threaten to overcome her. She closed her eyes and tried to fight off the frightful emotion that gripped her. She didn’t open them until she heard the crunch of light footsteps on the rocky pathway.
“We must hurry,” said Lance LaBlanc in a deep, authoritative voice that he had borrowed from a local newscaster. “There is no time to waste.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” she whispered. She looked into his gaunt face and saw the compassionate pink eyes…the same eyes that had once stared at her from the face of the White Rabbit.
LaBlanc smiled gently and took her hand. She didn’t flinch at his touch. The soft warmth of his pale flesh seemed to seep into her tense muscles, soothing her, gradually eradicating her sense of alarm. “I understand your hesitation,” he told her. “That day was a very frightening one…for both of us. We were strangers then and did not understand the nature of one another. But we do now. There is nothing more to fear. You are among friends.”
“But what about the other one?” she asked. “What about the Dark’Un?”
“I assure you, the Dark’Un will do you no harm. It does not kill because it is evil. On the contrary, it kills because of its love for us.”
It was difficult for Jenny to think of the dreaded Dark’Un in such terms, considering the past few days of savage slaughter. But she took the albino’s assurance at face value and, leaving the rock, accompanied him up the pathway.
“Are you all right, honey?” asked Miss Mable.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” she replied with an embarrassed smile.
LaBlanc led the way, “Then, if you will follow me, I shall take you to where your friend is.” He and the other albinos ducked through the peaked opening of the cave. Darkness swallowed them instantly.
Glen turned on the flashlight he had brought with him. Jenny and Miss Mable followed closely. Upon entering the passageway, they felt the floor begin to slope downward, almost imperceptively at first, then at a more pronounced angle farther on. Walls of raw black coal enclosed them on either side, and even with the illumination from Glen’s light, it was difficult to see more than a few feet ahead at any given time. The tunnel spiraled downward like a corkscrew, never steep enough to throw the travelers off balance, but enough to give them an uncomfortable feeling of disorientation.
Oddly enough, the deeper they descended into the core of Pale Dove Mountain, the less choked with darkness the passageway became. The soft glow of torches flickered from where the tunnel expanded into a chamber of tremendous size. LaBlanc and the others lingered at the mouth of the passageway as Glen, Jenny, and Miss Mable approached, keeping close to one another. “Welcome to our home,” said the lean albino with a graceful bow.
The cavern was massive. It was the width of a football stadium and roughly the height of a twelve-story building. A network of small caves pocked the lofty walls of the cavern, serving as dwellings for the inhabitants of Pale Dove Mountain. From the dark openings, they could see pale forms staring down at them with bright pink eyes that glittered in
the light of the torches. Some possessed the simple forms of birds and mammals, while some had grown bolder because of their recent exposure to the outside world and had taken the forms of human beings. A few familiar faces peered down at them from the dark hovels. Some resembled the citizens of Tucker’s Mill, while others looked like washed-out images from various television shows and commercials.
But it wasn’t the vast number of albino creatures that amazed Jenny and the others the most. Rather, it was the nature of the cavern’s inner walls that made their hearts pound in excitement. The scarcity of the torches divided the interior between light and shadow, but what light there was gleamed and glimmered on the craggy walls, causing them to blaze like yellow fire from floor to ceiling. After a few moments, they came to the realization that the entire expanse of the underground cavern was completely formed of solid gold.
They walked across the vast stone floor of the cavern, awed with the sight of the subterranean world. For centuries a secret society of peaceful creatures had lived there, hidden beneath the dense forests of Pale Dove Mountain without anyone’s knowledge, except for the Brice family. And it might have remained a well-kept mystery for many more centuries if Jackson Dellhart hadn’t chosen it from a hundred other Tennessee mountains to exploit and destroy.
As they followed LaBlanc to the far end of the cavern, they passed a huge opening in one of the golden walls, a burrow much larger than the others. Two albinos guarded the entrance. One was the pale likeness of a famous wrestler, while the other was in the form of a brawny linebacker.
“What’s in there?” Glen asked out of curiosity.
“That is the lair of the Dark’Un,” replied LaBlanc almost sternly. “Entrance beyond that point is strictly forbidden.”
Glen, Jenny, and Miss Mable exchanged uncomfortable glances. They certainly weren’t about to argue the point. After all the wholesale destruction that the dark being had caused lately, they were in no big hurry to find out what horrors lay within its shadowy lair.
A Haunting of Horrors: A Twenty-Novel eBook Bundle of Horror and the Occult Page 479