Crone's Moon: A Rowan Gant Investigation

by M. R. Sellars

  My wife’s hands were resting on the arms of the chair, and she began to physically jerk and tug as if trying to lift them, but they barely moved. She rotated her wrists as she struggled— stretching her fingers outward and then doubling them back into fists. She pushed herself slightly forward and twisted her shoulders while wriggling in her seat, groaning as she pulled against the unseen bonds. No matter how hard she tried, her forearms remained planted on the rests as if they were actually tied there. She finally let herself fall back into the seat and let out a frustrated shriek.

  “Fucking asshole!” the voice burst from her lips as a defiant shout. “Do you have any idea who I am?!”

  “Jeezus,” Ben muttered. “She’s got a pair.”

  Felicity suddenly jerked her head to the side, pulling it away from something unseen as she sent her eyes searching.

  “Don’t you touch me,” the voice growled. “My father is goddamned Mayor you idiot. Every fucking cop in the state is probably looking for me right now.”

  Her head jerked backward, and her jaw clenched as her neck began to stretch. A nasal whine came from her nose amid the sound of her choking.

  “Bring her back,” I demanded, whipping around to face Helen. “Now.”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “I think so. Felicity, return.”

  My wife’s head instantly fell forward then began to slowly tilt back upward. Her chest rose with a deep breath and then settled into her earlier relaxed rhythm. Once again her face was slack.

  “No,” she said after a moment, her own voice issuing from her lips.

  “One… Two…” Helen began counting.

  “No,” Felicity spoke again, sharpness in her tone. “Not yet. I can’t remember it all.”

  “…Five… Six…”

  “NO,” my wife insisted, still staring off into space. “We have to know where she is.”

  “…Nine…” Helen continued.

  “NO!” Felicity barked. “I have to go back. I have to…”

  She finished the sentence with an agonized cry, which caught in her throat only to be cut off mid scream. Her face suddenly contorted into a pained grimace as her body stiffened, and her hands began posturing inward.

  The room filled with the sound of arcing electricity as it started to buzz and snap, and at the exact instant of the first pop, I felt the ethereal defenses I had erected begin falling away. Upon the second, they collapsed inward upon themselves as if caught in a gale force wind.

  “RETURN,” Helen announced once again, this time with far more urgency.

  Blind agony hammered me between the eyes, and I blinked back tears as it screwed inward toward the center of my brain. I felt my own motor control begin to slip as I flopped sideways, almost falling from the armless chair in which I was seated. Something grappled my shoulder in a tight hold, and I looked up to see Ben steadying me.

  “Twilight Zone?” His words rushed past me in a distorted stream and then began repeating in a hollow echo.

  A heavy bass thrum droned inside my head as I reached up with trembling hands in an attempt to contain my exploding skull. I shut my eyes tight and tried to will it away. The one clear thought that kept running through my mind was just let me die.

  “ROWAN!” Ben’s voice struck my ears again, forcing their way through the heavy metal crescendo that was building in my brain.

  “FELICITY! RETURN!” I heard Helen’s voice again, and it was edging toward frantic. “RETURN!”

  Helen Storm was the calmest, most even-tempered person I had ever met. She didn’t get frantic.

  Now I was frightened.

  “Oh my god!” Agent Mandalay’s voice joined the jumble of noises. “Felicity!”

  I pitched forward and forced myself to open my eyes. My wife was in the full throes of a seizure; her face was a horrid mask of pain as she shook uncontrollably, gnashing her teeth into her tongue. Pinkish froth was running from the corner of her mouth, and she bucked hard against unearthly restraints. However, that was but one of the torturous images to greet me.

  Small, circular wounds had appeared randomly along her bare forearms. They were red and blistered. Oozing and charred. I’d seen pictures of wounds just like them in a brochure from a local women’s shelter. The information was about spousal abuse, and the photos were of cigarette burns.

  A linear splash of blood suddenly appeared on Felicity’s t-shirt just across her left breast, spreading outward as it soaked into the cloth. I watched in horror as yet another burn mark sizzled into view on the back of her hand, appearing right before my eyes.

  “JEEZUS FUCKIN’ CHRIST!” Ben was yelling. “Helen! Do something!”

  “She isn’t responding!” Helen returned. “She is pushing herself into it on purpose!”

  I was struggling to maintain my own connection with this world, and the visual horror of the torture my wife was now going through only steeled my resolve. I forced a tenuous ground to form once again between the earth and me in an attempt to rebuild my shattered defenses. But, even as I connected, I could feel it making and breaking in a vicious cycle.

  Fear was boring upward from the pit of my stomach as I fought simply to keep from slipping any further across the veil myself. I didn’t want to think about how far this could go, but my brain rifled through the scenarios anyway. I was intimately familiar with the dangers that came along with channeling those on the other side. At this very moment, each and every one of them was present and accounted for. And, leading the pack, as always, was Cerridwen. The Dark Mother, Goddess of death and rebirth. A deity to whom I had called out on many a Samhain night when celebrating the lives of loved ones long past.

  But, in recent years, I had come to despise her and that for which she stood. I knew that I should not, but emotions run deeper than logic, and I could not change the way I felt.

  As much as I had denied it earlier, I knew full well that my heart had stopped. Death was something I cheated every time this happened, and I would continue to duck her gelid embrace for as long as I could. But right now, as in times before, the cold bitch was waiting at the other end of this path with open arms, and Felicity was running full speed toward her.

  What the darkness offered so freely was meant for me, not my wife, and I simply couldn’t allow her to get there first.

  CHAPTER 19:

  I had a problem, and it wasn’t a small one.

  The problem being that there was absolutely nothing to stop both of us from dying if this was allowed to progress. Throwing myself into the arms of the Dark Mother, noble as it may seem, did not guarantee Felicity’s safety on this plane or any other. Given the situation, she could easily follow me right into death without so much as a pause. There was far more at work here, and while I didn’t know exactly what it was, I was determined to win out over it.

  This wasn’t the time for sacrifice, and I knew that.

  What I didn’t know was how I was going to make it all stop. Felicity was hell bent on finding an answer, and because of that, she was now caught up in a vortex of her own creation. She had plunged directly into this on purpose, and now I was not only fighting an overwhelming ethereal force, I was pitted against her willful determination as well. The fact is, her doggedness was probably feeding whatever it was she had connected with.

  Out of pure reflex, I reached for her hand and clasped my fingers around her gnarled fist. I felt the thread of pure agony arc along my nerve endings as it raced up my arm and exploded through my body. My teeth began to involuntarily gnash as my jaw grew tight, and the sensation of holding onto a bare extension cord ripped into me just as it had the day before.

  Amidst it all, however, was a new and different feeling. At first I thought it was my imagination. Nothing more than my senses thrown off kilter by the intensity of what was now happening. But, when the feeling struck for a second and then again for a third time, I knew it was more than a phantom sensation. It was real.

  It came first as a tug. Next, it was a sharp jerk pulling against my arm and
flowing through to the base of my skull as if some internal wire connected them to one another. Then it became a fierce pull, undulating in time with my on-again off-again connection to the earth.

  What was even more surprising was that it made perfect sense to my tortured brain. It was my ground— my connection with the earth— slamming on the brakes as it attempted to shunt the energies harmlessly away. In order to stop this, I was going to have to complete that ground for the both of us and hold it fast. Unfortunately, that was an almost impossible task for me in my current state. Still, I had little choice but to at least try.

  I seized on everything I had, reaching deep within myself for the strength to make it happen. I fought to push aside the stabbing pain in my head long enough to visualize a shaft of light extending from myself and deep into the center of the earth. But, just as I feared, each time I would form the vision in my head a fresh lance of agony would pierce me, and I would falter, losing both the connection and the supernatural skirmish in the process.

  At some point, I think I let out a scream. I wasn’t sure because I don’t know that I actually heard it. I couldn’t tell you if it was born of pain, frustration, fear, or even a combination of all three. All I know is that whether I heard it or not, I definitely felt it deep within my soul.

  I would have assumed that it was only in my mind, but for the fact that behind the deeply felt wail, I did hear Ben cry out my name. A split second later, I felt his hand briefly clamp onto my shoulder, and at that moment, a sizzling electrical pop reported in my ears. Ben’s hand immediately jerked away in combination with his expletive-ridden yelp.

  In that instant I knew what had to be done. This had grown beyond what I believed it to be. It was no longer a case of me, or even Felicity, stepping across the threshold into the world of the ethereal. The ethereal had come to us. Felicity may have stepped into its domain first, but it was on this side of the veil now. It was a physical manifestation, and it was making itself right at home. If I was to deal with it, I had to approach it as the unwanted houseguest it was.

  The arc that occurred between Ben and me was the clue I needed. I was on the right track when I had tried to ground; I just hadn’t taken it far enough. I knew now that this could be brought to a screeching halt. All I needed to do was treat it like household electricity— I had to short it to ground and blow its fuse.

  “G-g-gr-n-n-d-d,” I stammered as I pushed myself out of the chair and fell to my knees next to Felicity.

  “WHAT?” Constance yelped.

  “G-Ground!” I managed to spit the word out once again, this time without dividing it into a stream of stammered consonants.

  Using the arm of the chair for leverage, I pulled myself to one knee and slipped my right arm in behind Felicity’s denim-covered knees. I forced myself to release my grip on her hand and worked my left arm partially behind her upper back as she continued to buck and tremble.

  “What are you doing?!” Ben shouted at me.

  I didn’t take time to answer him. I pushed myself upward and tried to pull Felicity along with me, but the awkward angle immediately worked against us. I lost my balance and fell forward, stumbling into the chair, barely catching myself against the opposite arm with my hastily extracted left hand.

  I pushed back, breathing heavily as I concentrated on keeping myself from being sucked completely under by the preternatural riptide that was now tearing through my living room. I quickly pulled my right hand free and grasped my petite wife by both wrists then pulled her upward. For her to tip the scale at one hundred five pounds, she had to be fully clothed, soaking wet, and have rocks in her pockets; but at the moment she may as well have weighed ten times that much. She was dead weight with an attitude, and it was taking everything I had just to get her up out of the chair.

  “ROWAN!” Ben bellowed again. “What the hell are you doing?!”

  “Get back, Benjamin,” Helen ordered. “Give him some room.”

  I threw my gaze in his direction as I dragged Felicity to her feet and steadied her body against mine. His face was a contorted mask of concern, as were Constance’s and Helen’s. The three of them were frantically moving about, trying to find a way to help but afraid to touch either of us after witnessing the severe jolt Ben had taken. Still, Ben was moving in on me with total disregard for himself, obviously willing to be bitten again if that was what it took.

  “Benjamin,” Helen declared again. “Move away! I think I know what he’s doing. Give him room!”

  “G-Ground!” I repeated, forcing the word out past my teeth as my jaw repeatedly clenched and released.

  Ben shot a glance at his sister, then at me, but backpedaled as she had ordered. I stooped quickly and planted my shoulder into Felicity’s waist while slipping my arm around the backs of her thighs. She was still trembling spastically as I brought myself upright with her body folded over my shoulder. The combination of her weight and the violent jerking sent my sense of balance on hiatus, and I stumbled as I aimed myself toward the front door.

  “Door. Get… The… Door…” I managed to chatter through my aching jaw.

  Ben was already there, whipping it open and rushing through ahead of us to hold the screen door. I threw myself at the opening and thudded against the doorframe on the way through. I careened forward and staggered onto the porch, just barely catching myself before we tumbled down the front stairs. I steadied myself against a support pillar and grabbed the handrail.

  Nothing happened.

  Not even a tingle.

  I couldn’t believe it. I knew that I had to be correct. If I wasn’t I had no idea what I was going to do. I looked down at my hand incredulously and realized immediately that the functional metal handhold was coated in plastic— a measure I had paid extra for in order to prevent rust and alleviate the need for painting. Now, it was my bane as it completely insulated me from the metal, negating the ground I was seeking. I instantly despised myself for the decision.

  I had to find another piece of non-insulated metal to come into contact with, and I had to find it now. I looked toward the driveway at Ben’s van but discounted it immediately. The rubber tires were once again an insulator between the metal and earth ground. I whipped my head to the right and made my decision.

  Still gripping the rail, I pushed off and started down the stairs as fast as I could without losing what little balance I had left. I could feel something warm and wet against my shoulder, and I knew without looking that yet another wound had to have appeared on Felicity’s pristine skin. I was gripped by the sudden fear that the wounds went deeper than merely the surface.

  I hit the sidewalk and continued to my right, tripping over the grooves in the decorative flagstone walk as I hurried toward my new goal. I could hear Ben, Constance, and Helen behind me, but I didn’t have time to acknowledge their presence. My vision was beginning to tunnel, and I could feel my own hands beginning to curl into fists as my physical connection with Felicity fought to drag me under.

  I continued to stumble forward and eventually lost my footing then fell heavily to my knees. The momentum of my crash carried me forward, and Felicity slid from my shoulder onto the grass. She was still seizing. Even in the darkness, I could see that fresh wounds had appeared on her arms and new, wet stains were spreading across her shirt.

  I pushed up onto my hands and knees and looked ahead of myself. The dim, cylindrical vignette that had become my vision stretched out before me, appearing as an unfathomable distance with my objective well at the far end. I knew it couldn’t possibly be that far away, but my heart began to sink as I struggled with my now clubbed fists to pull Felicity back up.

  I suddenly felt an icy hand pressed against my shoulder. Startled, I swung my head to the side and glanced up into the smiling face of the Dark Mother.

  I twisted my head away, daring not to look any longer for fear of giving in and answering her beckoning call. Looking to the opposite side, I slammed my right hand hard against the ground, forcing it to spasm and uncur
l. I quickly pushed my left fist into the palm to hold it open then managed to work it around Felicity’s trembling wrist as it closed tightly of its own accord. With a guttural scream, I physically threw myself forward, my left arm thrust in front of me as far as I could reach.

  When my hand contacted the warm metal of the chain link fence, I was instantly deafened by the cacophonous snap of an electric arc.

  Hot, white light flashed, and then my world faded to black.

  CHAPTER 20:

  Once again we were gathered in the kitchen— all of us except for Helen that is. A self-described chain smoker, once she was convinced that Felicity and I were okay, she had sequestered herself on our back deck for a nicotine fix.

  I knew she was blaming herself for what had happened; she had told me as much. I tried to convince her otherwise, but I didn’t have much luck. Unfortunately, at the moment, I simply didn’t have the energy to force the subject. In the end, we agreed to talk it out at a later date. Still, I hated that she was going to brood over it until then. I knew she would too because that is exactly what I would do if I was in her place.

  I felt myself sinking in the chair, probably looking much like Ben had only a few hours before. I was exhausted. My body chemistry was so out of balance I felt like I had been on a weeklong drunk and was only now starting to sober up. If I had any electrolytes left in my system, they were probably cringing behind some obscure internal organ in hopes they wouldn’t be obliterated as well.

  I tipped a bottle of bright blue sport drink toward the ceiling and drained the remains in a trio of gulps. I was unimpressed by the taste, but then, they were Felicity’s choice, not mine. Normally I wouldn’t go near them except to move them aside when reaching for something else, but my current state demanded more than plain water.

  “Do you want another one, Rowan?” Constance asked as I sat the plastic bottle on the table in front of me and sighed.