Darkly The Thunder

by William W. Johnstone

  The Force chuckled. “Oh, yes. He is. And so are you.”

  “Go on, crap-head,” Sand told him. “Tell it all.”

  “Bill and others . . . me, too, we fixed the brakes on that Jew-boy’s car.”

  “You admit being a party to Joey’s murder?”

  Jeffery licked bloody lips. “Yes.”

  “Go on.”

  “Your wife panicked when Bill began tailgating her, bumping the rear end of her car. She took off out of town. We stayed right with her. About eight or nine miles out of town, she cut off the highway and down a gravel road. Her car began fishtailing, and she went into a ditch. She got stuck. We stopped about a hundred feet behind and got out, all of us yelling and whooping and laughing. But we didn’t mean her any harm. Then she got out of her car with that ... horrible animal!”

  “Oh, my,” the Force simpered. “I do believe he’s about to have a snit!” The shack rocked with frenzied laughter.

  When the laughter died away, Sand said, “Tell it.”

  “She stood by the car, crying, the dog snarling at us. It was getting late, but light enough for her to see what Bill and Wallace did. They exposed themselves to her – shook their peckers at her.”

  The music began in Sand’s head. The beast within snarled and howled and roamed about. The Force sighed in disgust. Morg spat on the floor.

  “We all exposed ourselves,” Jeffery’s voice firmed. “I know you’re going to kill me, and I know what that other ... thing is in the room with us. So I’m going to say what’s on my mind. She’d been giving it to you and all the other hot-rodders for years. Everybody knows about the orgies you people have. All the wild sex parties.”

  “I musta missed out on them,” Morg said sarcastically. “You dumb little shit. You been seein’ too many movies about hot-rodders and custom clubbers. Maybe some clubs do that, but none that I know of. You fuck with somebody else’s old lady, you gonna get killed. That’s the way it is, chump.”

  Jeffery looked sick. “She didn’t have to run up that hill, just because we shook our cocks at her. We weren’t going to hurt her.”

  “I ain’t believin’ this punk,” Morg said. “No decent human bein’ does something like that to a lady.”

  Jeffery shook his head. “I’m decent. I was just drunk, that’s all. What difference does it make now?”

  “None at all,” the Force told him.

  “When she got to the top of the hill, she tripped and fell down. She landed on a small stump, on her stomach. She rolled off, screaming. We ... didn’t pay her any attention. Didn’t help her. Thought she was just doing that so we’d leave her alone. It was a game to us, that’s all.”

  “A game,” Morg whispered. He shook his head in disbelief.

  “John Murry was the first to reach her. He began jumping up and down, acting a fool. You know, like in an initiation. John shouted ugly things at her. But we were drunk! You have to understand that.”

  “I been drunk lots of times,” Morg said. “I never bothered no good woman. Least of all, not no pregnant woman. That’s obscene.”

  “All that is truth,” the Force said. “And it is being taken into consideration by those who judge.”

  “And what about me?” Jeffery shouted to the dark shape.

  The Force made a spitting, vulgar sound. “Everyone has some control over their destiny. So putting it into words that you might comprehend: you blew it, blizzard-head!”

  Jeffery began crying, the tears streaking his face. “John stepped toward your wife. He was screaming filth at her. The dog jumped. It was awful. All of a sudden, John didn’t have any throat.

  “Charles picked up a big stick and hit the dog on the head. He walked over to your wife and began telling her what we were going to do to you . . . when we caught up with you. She was crying and screaming, saying the baby was coming.

  “Marlson and the others laughed at her. Then he kicked her in the stomach – ”

  “Who kicked her!” Sand shouted the question.

  “We . . . all did after Marlson did. She rolled over on her side. Blood was coming out of her mouth and nose. You have to understand, a court of law would, I’m sure. It was like . . . things weren’t real. A dream; a play. I jumped around so much I fell down. That’s when she clawed me. I never heard anybody scream the way she did. She grabbed at her chest and stomach. Her face turned blue. I saw my grandfather have a heart attack. I think your wife had a heart attack the same time the baby . . . came out. God, that was awful. I got sick. She was bleeding so badly. We ran down the hill and drove off.”

  “You just left her there to die?” Sand asked softly.

  “Please!” Jeffery screamed. “Yes! I know it was wrong. But we were drunk and scared and . . . didn’t know what to do.”

  “Good God,” Morg said. “Robin never hurt nobody in her whole entire life.”

  “That is truth,” the Force whispered. “She is good in heart and thought. She has been judged thusly.”

  Sand squatted in front of Jeffery. His only emotions were fire and ice and steel. The music began.

  The Force whispered, “You know what you came to do.”

  Sand jacked back the hammer on the .45 auto and shot Alan Jeffery in the face, the slug hitting him just above the nose, tearing out the back of his skull. Jeffery fell through the shattered wall, one foot catching on a hole in the floor. He dangled headfirst.

  “Excellent. Very good,” the Force said. “Everything is on schedule.”

  “We’re on a timetable?” Morg asked.

  “Certainly. Everyone is. The list of names is very long. Every time some medical breakthrough occurs, it really throws us off.”

  Sand looked at Morg. “You ready?”

  “Yeah. Jane’s waitin’ for me.”

  “Not . . . exactly,” the Force said. “But it can all be worked out to everyone’s satisfaction, I’m sure.”

  They headed for the frat house, the dark shape of the Force sitting in the back seat of the Mercury, complaining about the quality of the rock and roll music pushing out of the hi-fi speakers.

  Only a handful of young men were in the frat house. They were herded to the basement. The walls were thick and windowless. Morg had cut the telephone wires from the outside.

  Lenton, Murphy, Marlson, and Branon stood together. All of them were trembling from fear.

  “Alexander and Center,” Sand said. “Where are they?”

  “They had dates in Willowdale. They were sleeping over.” The young man’s eyes were on the big .45 in Sand’s hand.

  “They better not run into Carl Lee,” Sand told him.

  “I know a secret,” the whisper came, echoing around the basement.

  Sand knew then that Carl had found Alexander and Center.

  “My God!” a young man said. “What is that . . . that shape over there in the corner?”

  “Only the Shadow knows,” the Force whispered, then chuckled.

  Sand’s eyes touched all the young men, lingering on Marlson. “Allen Jeffery told me what happened. I didn’t like the ending. I killed him about an hour ago. You boys tell me your version. I might like it better.”

  He looked at the frat brothers standing apart from Marlson and his bunch. “You’re all liars. Everyone of you. You lied to protect Halsey after he killed Jesse last year. You lied to protect those who killed Reb and raped Gloria. And now I find you bastards lied to protect those who killed my wife. I should kill every goddamned one of you.”

  “No,” the Force said. “That would be a mark against you. You do not need another.”

  “Sand!” a college student said. “Don’t do this.”

  The room seemed to shift.

  “You know, man,” Morg said, leaning up against a wall. “I feel really weird. Like a part of me is gone from my body.”

  “Yes,” Sand said. “I felt it leaving.”

  “That is truth,” the Force spoke. “Your fate is settled. Your life’s clock has stopped for you both.” It chuckled. “
Among others in this dingy room.”

  A frat boy fainted.

  “No shit!” Morg said. “Outta sight.”

  “Bill, you said we wouldn’t get caught!” Lenton cried.

  “Shut up, you fool!” Marlson screamed.

  Lenton pointed a shaking finger at Marlson. “It was all his idea. He did it all.”

  “Liar!” Marlson screamed. “You all helped me fix the brakes on the Jew-boy’s car. You all took part in kicking Robin on that hill.”

  Sand leveled the .45. “Tell it all, Lenton.”

  He told it all in a shaking voice. With much more brevity than Jeffery. But it was as Jeffery had said.

  “Sand,” an older student said. “Don’t do this. All right, we were wrong. I’ll admit that to the police, and take whatever punishment the courts hand us. But don’t do this.”

  “Fuck you, boy,” Sand told him.

  “For such an intelligent and usually grammatically correct young man,” the whisper came, “you certainly do retreat to the gutters in times of stress.”

  “I suppose all that will change shortly?” Sand asked.

  “We shall try.”

  Sand shot Lenton in the knee, knocking the young man off his bare feet. Calmly, he shifted the muzzle and shot Branon in the stomach. He allowed them both to thrash in agony on the floor before shooting them in the head. He pulled the trigger twice on Murphy, tearing great holes in his stomach.

  The stench in the basement was foul.

  Marlson slobbered down the front of his T-shirt.

  “Jesus God, Sand!” a student cried. “This is barbaric. You don’t want justice. You want revenge!”

  Sand laughed at him; a bitter bark that was void of humor. “Revenge? You bet your silly asses I want revenge. You arrogant bastards – all of you – helped destroy everything I loved in this world. And you sons of bitches did it deliberately. You stripped me bare, and now you have the nerve to talk about justice? Justice! None of you know the meaning of the word. Courts of law? Shit! Would those guilty have suffered like my wife, like Reb, like Gloria or Boom Boom or Joey and Tuddie? No. And you all know that.” He held up the .45. “This is justice.”

  He shoved the .45 behind his belt and took out a heavy knife from his jacket pocket. “And this is justice,” he added, opening the blade. “Shoot anybody who moves, Morg.”

  “Gotcha, man.”

  Sand walked to Marlson and faced him. “Marlson, since you’re so proud of your pecker, I’m going to give it to you. You can have your mother put it up in a Mason Jar.”

  “No!” Marlson screamed.

  The whispering Force became a howling.

  Sand knocked Marlson down and kicked him into moaning submission. He looked up at the knot of badly frightened frat boys . . . who only wanted justice.

  “If you boys act quickly, Marlson will live. And I want him to live a long, long time. I want him to remember me for the rest of his miserable, worthless, lying life.”

  The beast within and without roared as Sand’s knife flashed, dripping crimson.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The screen on the TV set went dark and Watts stood up. Sand, are you going to finish it this night? he projected.

  No. I’ll be away for a time. I must see if the path is clear. Warn the others that they will be pestered on their journey, but that no harm can come to them, as long as they do not step off the path.

  Pestered?

  You’ll see. Talk to you later, Al.

  “Pestered?” Megan questioned, after Watts had briefed them all. “What does he mean?”

  “I don’t know. I guess you people will find that out when you get there.”

  She touched his arm. You and Mack haven’t changed your minds, Colonel?”

  “No.” He smiled at her. “You better get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a busy, busy day.”

  UP, UP, UP, PEOPLE! Fury woke them all at dawn. WE’VE GOT A LOT OF WORK TO DO. HUP TWO THREE FOUR. MARCH, MARCH, AROUND THE FLOOR. GET THAT BLOOD CIRCULATING.

  “Do we get to eat breakfast before you start cracking the bullwhips?” Gordie asked.

  THAT’S NOT A BAD IDEA, GUNFIGHTER. THIRTY LASHES MIGHT HELP STRAIGHTEN YOU RIGHT UP. OH, GO ON AND EAT. I WAS JUST HAVING SOME FUN.

  “He’s gone,” Howie called. “Back to the mountain.”

  “Major,” Gordie said. “Right after we eat, start planting the rest of those explosives that you can detonate electronically. We can have that much done. Lee, start soaking those piles of tires with kerosene. Al, you and Mack can start placing fire bombs around some of the older houses. The rest of us will be burning bodies.”

  They worked until noon, with Fury popping up every now and then to inspect their work.

  “You have any objections to us breaking for lunch?” Gordie asked.

  NOT A BIT, BOY SCOUT. ARE YOU GETTING ANY CLOSER TO A DECISION?

  “Yes, we are. We’ll vote this evening after work. Are you going to allow us a secret ballot, or will you be snooping around?”

  UMM. OH, VERY WELL. WHEN YOU KNOCK OFF FROM WORK, I WILL LEAVE YOU ALONE FOR ONE HALF HOUR TO EXERCISE YOUR DEMOCRATIC PROCESS.

  “We’re almost finished with this sector. We’ll probably work late this evening. If that’s all right with you.”

  THAT’S JUST PEACHY WITH ME. SINCE YOU PEOPLE ARE GOING TO BE SPENDING HUNDREDS OF YEARS IN THIS PIGSTY – SERVING ME – I WANT IT AS CLEAN AS POSSIBLE.

  “You shall certainly have everything wiped clean, Fury. I promise you a place befitting a being of your caliber.”

  Sunny looked up at that and could not hide her smile.

  GOOD. YOU’RE LEARNING YOUR PLACE WELL. SEE YOU LATER, ALLIGATOR. DO BOP DE DO BOP DE DO BOP, DE DO.

  “Insufferable asshole,” Gordie muttered. “Let’s break for lunch, people.”

  The government people had already begun packing up equipment and moving out, a few at a time. The preachers continued to rant and rave, the reporters continued to ask questions of anyone they could corner, and the police had been forced to close down any roads leading into the area for as far out as fifty miles. The area simply could not sustain any more people.

  “Leave these temporary quarters, Larry,” Martin ordered. “Leave the portable toilets and anything else that might draw attention to our pulling out.”

  “The bomber is fully fueled, and the crew is awaiting orders to arm the weapon, sir.”

  “That’s up to the president, Larry. That is his decision and his alone.”

  “Sir, do you believe President Marshall will really level with the people of the world about this matter?”

  Martin sighed. Thought for a moment. “I don’t know, Larry. ”Like an attorney, he’ll try to be as honest as he can be.”

  “That’s an ... interesting reply, sir.”

  “Quite.”

  President Marshall had canceled all appointments, clearing the day and night. At 2030 hours, the president knew his life would be forever changed, altered as surely as the valley where the neutron bomb would explode at near ground level.

  He decided he would try to take a nap. There damn sure would be no sleep tonight.

  “Megan,” Howie said. “I’ve been doing some computations, and I’m not at all sure I like what I’ve found.”

  “Explain, Howie.” She sat down beside him.

  “We know that Fury thrives on the souls of the just-departed. We know that it’s been doing that since the beginnings of time. What we don’t know is what forms it ingested in other worlds, and in earlier times here on earth.”

  “I’m ... not sure I’m following you, Howie.”

  “The neutron bomb will destroy the bulk of the energy mass. It will not destroy it completely. And we don’t know, none of us, in here and outside, not the smartest scientists in all the world, what changes these two clashes are going to produce. See what I’m getting at?”

  “Are you talking about some metamorphosis; energy into . . . whatever?”

  “Yes.”
>
  “My God, Howie. I haven’t given that any thought.”

  “Neither did I, not until this morning. But it’s frightening. The impact of two large energy masses – one an unknown factor – could spin off . . . ” He shrugged his shoulders. “Anything.”

  “Are you suggesting,” Megan spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully, “that since the Fury is made up of once-living souls, or still-living souls, the clash might produce some form of life that could exist . . . once more. I mean, like us?”

  “Yes. It’s possible, I think. And it would be quite a danger to us all.”

  “Have you discussed this theory with anyone?”

  “My CIA contact up north of here.”

  “Your . . . CIA contact?”

  “Yes. He’s quite a nice fellow. Major Jackson okayed the link for me.”

  Megan left the computer room, shaking her head. The CIA never missed a bet.

  The major and the others had returned from their work. Gordie walked over to him. “Everything go?”

  “Ready to pop.”

  Watts said, “Joey just spoke to me. He’s ready to wrap this up so we can store the final tapes. Gather around. But I warn you, it isn’t pretty. I know. I was there.”

  OUT OF TIME

  Captain Al Watts was at the state patrol barracks ten minutes after receiving the call. Some campers had heard the shot and had investigated, finding Alan Jeffery. They had hiked out and called the state police.

  Sand and Morg had been spotted, each in their own vehicle, driving aimlessly in the mountains.

  “They’re not driving aimlessly,” Watts said, a grim expression on his face. “They’re letting me have time to get ready. They’ll head for Thunder Mountain.”

  “Why there, Captain?”

  “Why not? They have nothing to lose now. Sand is telling us to come and get him. Goddamnit!” he cursed.

  “Four college boys dead. Another with his privates cut off. God, what a bloody night.”

  “How is the Marlson punk?” Watts asked.

  “He’s going to live. But he doesn’t have any equipment left.”