by D. W. Brown
As soon as the shiny knife touched the agent’s throat, Kevin caught site of dried, crusted fragments of blood along the handle. It was his wife’s, the blood of his first and last true love. It was the substance that kept her alive, until his hand drained her like the animal that he was. He finally saw his true nature, his murderous self. This realization should’ve frightened him, but it did the opposite. He embraced it, becoming the person the humming sound had created, and doing what he was called to do.
Applying just enough pressure to the man’s windpipe, Kevin slowly slid the knife across his throat. A slight jerk emanated from the man, and then he awoke clutching his gushing wound. The look on his face was shock and utter terror; not only was he surprised to see his cab riding mate standing over him wielding a knife, he couldn’t believe his life was quickly flowing out of the wound in his neck.
Dean flailed around for a few minutes, but his loss of blood quickly depleted his energy, making it nearly impossible to get back onto his feet. In those few seconds, he thought about his wife and kids, hoping they’d be okay. He mind also worried for Russell and Sam, wondering if the madman currently standing over him would get to them as well. His fear of death crept into his head for a brief second, forcing him to fight back the black fog attacking his mind; he was heading into shutdown mode.
Staring down into the frantic eyes of the FBI Agent, Kevin began to feel sorry for him. Wanting to do the right thing, he plunged his knife into his heart and held it there until the man stopped protesting. It didn’t take long.
After wiping the blade on the white t-shirt of the now deceased body, Kevin went into the bedroom and removed the comforter. Pulling the bloodied, water drenched body out of the tub was quite the feat, but he eventually managed to get him wrapped inside the cover. A few drops of his own sweat splattered onto the man’s face, but Kevin didn’t bother wiping them off. By the time the FBI found all of the dead bodies, he’d be long gone. Gently, Kevin reached down and closed Dean’s eyes, and then he went to the sink to wash up. In the mirror, he could see blood splatters on his face and forehead, but it no longer bothered him. He noticed right away that his eyes had never looked so alert, so alive. With the small bar of soap and two of the hotel towels, he removed the bloody traces of his crime from his face and the tub, stuffed the body underneath the bed, and headed for the door.
It was then that he realized this was the first time the headaches hadn’t rendered him useless, and he knew why: he’d killed the FBI Agent willingly, without coercion. With the others, Kevin was hesitant; unsure of what he was doing. The thing in the tunnel wouldn’t allow him to act that way—he had to be a willing vessel, willing to kill without remorse. He was there now. Smoothing his hair off to the side, Kevin exited the room.
In the hallway, he passed by a young couple making out in front of their doorway, while the woman tried her best to put the key in the slot. They didn’t even look his way, not that he cared. He’d done this sort of thing before, he was guilty of nothing. Sure he’d just killed a Federal Agent, but it was required. From now on, he would do what was needed to please the creature.
CHAPTER 34
With the agent now completely out of his mind, Kevin phoned Father Gregory to fill him in on their next move.
“Hello. Are you finished with that minor detail?”
Father Gregory asked.
“I am. My next call will be to Sheriff Jent. Dark is near. I’ll be there in about an hour. Ensure Mrs. Jent is ready for our little hike out to the woods.”
“Why don’t we meet you in the woods?” “Are you sure?” Kevin asked.
“I need to get out of this room before I go crazy. I’ll head out now and wait for you to arrive. By the way, you sound different. Everything okay?”
“Honestly? I couldn’t be better. I’m finally at ease
with everything.”
“It’s an amazing feeling, isn’t it? I’m very proud of you Kevin. You’ll be greatly rewarded for this, you’ll see.”
This made Kevin feel good inside, because he’d finally pleased someone. He did something that made others happy, proud even. He no longer wondered Father Gregory’s involvement—he was just another willing vessel like himself. Like everyone else around Taos that heard and obeyed the hum’s calling, they happily dispatched anyone that stood in the way.
Ending the call, Kevin noticed a police car drive across the parking lot with another unmarked car following suit. Standing out of sight behind one of the hotels columns, he watched as the driver of the unmarked car got out and placed something on the inside tire well of the driver’s side, and then hopped into the passenger seat of the other vehicle. Realizing that they must’ve left the vehicle for Agent Mason, he waited until they were long gone, and then went over to retrieve his new wheels. The simplicity of the police left him wondering how he’d ever gotten caught in the first place. They probably wouldn’t have gotten me, if I hadn’t run into the woods. But if I hadn’t, I never would’ve met my daddy in the tunnel. It was all part of the creature’s plan, a brilliant plan.
The car must’ve been a recent purchase for the small town, because it still had that new vehicle smell to it. Kevin took a deep breath, enjoying everything about his current situation: the ride, the .45 pistol tucked inside the back of his belt, and the shotgun mounted below the dashboard. He’d never felt this good before. His entire demeanor had changed from negativity to joyful excitement over what might come next. After he got rid of Sheriff Jent and his wife, what might he be called upon to do next? What greater purpose would he soon serve? Go after Amanda? This thought made him giddier than ever.
“Good afternoon, Sheriff Jent. It’s time. Meet me in the woods behind the old service station where I first made your acquaintance, in one hour.”
“One hour? No! We need to do this now!” Russell replied impatiently.
“I have a small matter that needs my attention
first.” Kevin said lying.
“What business do you have here? Look, I want my wife back now!”
“Patience, Sheriff. Patience. One hour.”
“I’ll be there. You just bring Sam, and for your sake, she’d better be okay!” Russell replied angrily.
“See you in a few, Sheriff.” Kevin replied, not bothering to address Russell’s threats.
* * *
With a little extra time on his hands, Russell headed straight out to the meeting place. He wanted to get there and investigate a bit before Mr. Black made it in.
As he parked his car and walked around to the trunk to retrieve his flashlight, a strong sense of déjà’ vu surrounded him. Nearly eight years ago, he’d come to this same exact spot and went through the same process. The difference this time was that his sweet Sam was in the hands of the killer, the same killer that he’d brought to justice after murdering the four drug dealers from the service station.
Looking over at the abandoned station, Russell’s mind went back over the scene there. The blood, the drugs, and the money told a story of rival drug lords battling it out over territory, but what he ended up finding was a confused, frightened man, running from something he claimed to have seen inside an invisible tunnel. Was there really a tunnel? He’d gone back and searched the area a couple of times, out of curiosity more than anything else, but had found nothing. With everything he’d seen and heard over the past few days, he was beginning to wonder if he’d somehow missed it.
Did this make believe tunnel that Mr. Black had spoken of have something to do with the large crater he’d seen in Taos? If so, what?
The night was unnervingly quiet, making Russell a little fearful about traipsing off into the woods in the dark. He’d never been afraid of much, but after seeing the way the thing sucked up his blood at the edge of the sinkhole, he no longer believed he was dealing with the hand of mankind here.
Before he stepped into the woods, Russell pulled out the card Gary had given him at the airport and debated calling him in as backup. After placing the card from one hand to the next, he decided against it. The man didn’t look like he’d be much help in a fight, and he highly doubted Gary knew how to use a gun.
Texting Dean’s cell, Russell left him the address where he was meeting Mr. Black. In all caps, he said, MAKE SURE NO ONE SEES YOU COMING HERE!
Every snapping twig, every squirrel darting along the path, set Russell’s nerves on edge. He could feel the tension building up in his neck, causing him to use his free hand to rub the tight muscles there. He often got a burning sensation in between his right shoulder and neck region, something that seemed to worsen over the years. The tension was causing it to hurt more than usual, so he tried to relax his arms to release some of the pressure. Two or three quick pops from his neck later, he got enough relief to allow him to venture deeper into the woods.
It seemed to take forever to make it back to the spot where he’d ran into Mr. Black after the murders. At first, he questioned whether it was the right area, but it slowly came back to him: the opening, the circle of trees, and the pile of brush off to the left. The pile of brush…
Picking up speed, Russell jogged over to the pile of limbs and pine cones. Placing the light in the best position to illuminate the task at hand, Russell started tossing the debris aside with the focus of a man determined to save his wife. When he got to the last few remaining branches, he spotted what he thought to be a manhole cover. It looks heavy, heavy and solid, he thought.
Pulling up on the handle, he easily lifted the lid and placed it to the right of the opening. Using his flashlight, he peered down into the hole. All he could make out was a...a tunnel. I found it, I found the tunnel. Why didn’t I think to move the pile of brush the last time? He kicked himself the entire descent down the steel ladder.
As soon as his feet touched the ground, Russell began to feel the difference immediately. The soil should’ve been hard and compacted, but instead it felt soft and mushy. Shining his light downward, he was taken aback at the sight of the dark liquidly substance all along the floor. It was only about an inch or so thick, and it flowed along as if there was a small stream nearby. Thankful to have his boots on, Russell trudged in the direction of that flow.
The quiet night suddenly began to change, as the sound of a variety of animals went from a small whisper to an almost overwhelming crescendo. Russell dropped to his knees, pressing his hands over his ears to block out the deafening racket. He heard the roar of a lion, the howl of a wolf, the growl of a grizzly bear, and numerous other sounds that were too distorted to discern. Just when he thought his eardrums would explode, it abruptly stopped. And so did the stream— it simply dried up, as did the earth he was kneeling upon. Maybe it was just water, he thought.
Removing his hands from his ears, Russell’s initial instinct was to flee back to the ladder. This strange place obviously didn’t want him around, and with the pounding in his ears and fear in his heart, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be there.
Getting back onto his feet, Russell wrung out what water he could from his damp jeans. Looking back down at the earth, he jumped back as a small crack opened up to receive the water and closed almost instantaneously. It reminded him of the crater that sucked up his bleeding nose, and this time, he really did turn to head for the exit. He could feel his heart pounding through his chest (thump, thump, thump), as his adrenaline kicked into overdrive. He no longer cared what was down there, he only wanted to find Sam and get as far away from it all as possible.
Hearing movement up ahead, Russell placed his revolver out in front of him, with his flashlight resting on top of it as a makeshift scope. He heard the man’s voice before he actually saw him.
“That’s far enough, Sheriff! Put down your weapon or I’ll kill your lovely wife!”
Hesitating, Russell strained for a closer look. The voice was familiar, but he wasn’t completely sure of its originator. A few more steps and his ears exploded as the sound of gunfire ripped through the tunnel. The ground in front of him spit dirt up on his legs and shirt, making him stop dead in his tracks.
“I said that’s far enough! Drop your weapon and get down on your knees!”
Recognition finally dawned on Russell, “Well if it isn’t Father Gregory, the gun slinging, wife kidnapping priest. You do know you’re going to hell for this, don’t you, Father?”
“Hell? You don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. If people like you would stop interfering with everything, it would make things a heck of a lot easier.”
Since the priest was talking, Russell slowly crept forward. He had to make sure Sam was with him, and more importantly, that she was okay.
“Are you stupid or what Sheriff? If you take one more step, I will put a bullet in Samantha’s pretty little head! Are we clear?”
“What does it matter? You weren’t planning on allowing us to live anyway.” Russell said matter of fact. “That’s not true, Sheriff. Why would you think that? Kevin told you that we only wanted to keep you
away from Taos, not kill you.”
“You and I both know that the only way to ensure I stay away from there and for your secret to remain safe is to kill me. Isn’t that right, Father Gregory?”
“Since you put it that way, I guess it’s time for confession. At least I brought your lovely wife to die
alongside you, Sheriff.”
“Tell me this, Father Gregory: Why did one of your other pawns, Mr. Ridenour, kill my deputy? What are you guys protecting out there in Taos?”
“Let’s just say that the entire world is about to change as you know it. The current way of doing things all around the globe will soon be transformed.” Father Gregory said, as if he were speaking to a group of follower’s.
“So this is some sort of world domination thing? Is that it? You plan to kill Sam and me, so you can take over the world? Very original, Father. Or should I call you by your real name, Clint Gregory?” Russell said sarcastically.
“You’ve done your homework, I see Sheriff. Yes, my real name is Clint Gregory, and yes I chopped up my roommate and his family. At first, I didn’t want to do it, but I quickly found that it was necessary.” Father Gregory paused, as if thinking back to that day. He continued, “Better things are coming, Sheriff Jent— too bad you won’t be around to see them.”
A torn t-shirt was stuffed into Sam’s mouth, her wrists and ankles were bound with zip ties, and she looked a little out of it from the faraway look in her eyes. “What did you give her?” Russell asked angrily.
“Just something to make her a little more docile;
can’t have her interfering with things, now can we.” “You just better hope she’s okay, or you’ll need
more than your collar to save you, Father!” Russell practically spat out.
“I think you’re forgetting I have the gun, Sheriff. I
can shoot you any time I want.”
“What are you waiting for, Clint? Do it!” Russell egged him on, something telling him that Father Gregory wasn’t ready to kill them just yet.
“In time, Sheriff, in time. Right now, I need you to meet someone.”
“What about Mr. Black? He won’t like you taking things into your own hands. After all, he’s the one in charge of this operation, right?” Russell said tauntingly.
“Mr. Black’s just another vessel here. He’s not in charge of anything, nor will he ever be!”
“Exactly who is in charge here? I know it’s not you. You’re no different from Mr. Black—there’s no way you could be the brains behind such an operation.”
“You’re a fool, Sheriff! You know nothing about what’s going around you. You play your little cops and robbers game, oblivious of the world you live in. You go to your little church,
and you worship that silly cross, like it has some sort of meaning, some significance. Don’t you get it, Sheriff? It’s all just a lie. We’ve been following a lie. There’s so much more than that simplicity.”
“Careful, Father. Talk like that could call down the wrath of God on you. A lie, huh? Why don’t you enlighten me then, Clint.”
“I’ll do better than that—I’ll show you.” Father
Gregory said moving forward.
CHAPTER 35
The way the man before him grabbed Sam by the hair left Russell seeing red, but he held his temper at bay, knowing if he got killed, Sam would soon follow.
“Get on your feet, Sheriff!” Father Gregory said, motioning with the weapon in his right hand.
“Would you make up your mind, Clint? One minute you’re telling me to get on my knees and the next you want me back on my feet.”
“Just do what you’re told, and keep your remarks to yourself, Sheriff! Now turn around and start walking.”
Turning slowly, Russell paused a few seconds before taking off. His intent was to close the gap between them, readying himself to attack should the opportunity arise.
* * *
Gary made it to the woods about thirty minutes after Russell. He knew all about Mr. Black and what went on at the service station there eight years prior, so he thought it the obvious place of choice for the kidnappers to meet with Sheriff Jent.
All of his years of research and following this thing were about to come to a head. Would he be able to stop it from killing more people? Would he be able to protect Sheriff Jent and his family? He honestly didn’t know. After all, he still wasn’t completely sure what he was up against. The sheer amount of people that were killed, or willingly gave their lives to this thing was staggering. He was left with the question, what could wield that sort of power over people? Or who, his subconscious added.