by Holly Wentz
“Jack!” she scream-whispers, frantically shaking his foot. Jack stirs just as Kyle suddenly jumps to his feet looking startled. He begins to pat himself then looks over at her and Jack.
“What the hell, man!” he yells, “Did you roofie me or something, sick punk!”
“What? No. No, I didn’t … we didn’t … where are we?” Jack slowly rises to his feet and looks around. His normally clear blue eyes begin to cloud over and he starts to look panicked.
She slips her hand into Jack’s and gives a reassuring squeeze before looking at Kyle with narrowed eyes.
“Of course, we didn’t roofie you, moron. Look, obviously something went wrong.”
“You could say that.” a woman’s voice says from just behind her, making her jump.
PART THREE
BEYOND THE VEIL
CHAPTER NINE
Aliya stood there wide-eyed and slack-jawed. She had come out to the Crossroads to think. Knowing she would probably end up crying, she had not wanted to be found so vulnerable in her room. The Crossroads were a good place to be alone. The usual denizens of the Grey City avoided the area. The feel of sorrow, pain, and fear that throbbed from the Punishment’s path tended to keep most at bay. Aliya was different. It wasn’t that she could not feel the path’s unnerving effects—she could—but she had hope, which was something most in the Grey City did not possess. And that hope shielded her from the distress that permeated the air around the Crossroads.
She had been standing not far from the white marked junction when she heard a scream. It had been faint but chilling, and seemed to come from the Chasm’s mist. Suddenly a pressure seized her, robbing her of breath and darkening her vision. It passed quickly and she had been prepared to shrug it off until she turned around. Lying in a triangular form had been three youths, two men and a woman. They wore clothing she recognized as current to the Physical Time, jeans and shirts, and they seemed laid out in ritual form. Most shocking was that they weren’t just any souls but three Mortal Souls.
The Grey City was choking to the brim with souls, a great mass of them that refuse the Truth for whatever their reason and are given to the City until Judgment. But all those souls are immortal, they possess no physical body to allow them to interact and proceed through the Physical Realm. And that is what the Spirits and Lost Souls of the Grey City want—they want a body, a physical form to allow connection to the Physical Realm. Humans do not understand the power over the Spiritual Realm they wield, especially in their Mortal forms. They have no real concept of what it means to be “made in the Image of God,” at least not until they crossover into their natural Spiritual form. But by then they were either in Paradise, and in fulfillment of their Nature; or they were here, deprived of their Fulfilled Nature and left wanting. And that wanting will be a true danger to these three Mortals. Even she, who is less tempted by the siren song of their Mortal forms because of the Agreement, still feels the pull and desire to possess them. They need to leave—they need to leave now.
“How did you get here?” she asks just as the young woman asks “Where are we?”
Okay then, this is a real problem; she needs to think but it is difficult with the three so close and so bright. She needs to hide them before they attract the wrong kind of attention, which in this place is any kind of attention.
Facing them, she lays it out, “I don’t understand how you got here, but you cannot stay. You do not belong here. You are still alive, physical and mortal. And I do not have the time now to explain just how much danger you are in because of that.”
She can see the questions in their eyes but she can also see the Light they give off, calling those in the Shadows to come to them. Before they can begin to reply she goes on.
“I know you do not know what is happening or who I am, but I am begging you to trust me for just a moment. You have somehow passed the barrier, passed through the Veil, and are in the Spiritual Realm. But you are in Mortal form and the Spirits of this Realm will want nothing more than to possess those mortal bodies. They will go mad with the craving of that possession. And if they catch you, you will not be able to defeat them, not here. You will become worse than dead, enslaved inside your own mortal form, pushed down into the recess forever as the possessing spirit takes over. I need to hide you until we can figure a way to get you back to the Physical World.”
“Who are you?” the woman asks.
“My name is Aliya and you must trust that I am a friend. Please.” Aliya begins to chew on her thumbnail in thought, pacing, “Please, give me a moment to think and once we have you hidden, we can come up with a plan to….”
Trailing off, she catches sight of something on the leaner man’s front pocket.
“What is that?” she asks, pointing to a smear along his black jeans near the zipper. “Is that chalk? Do you have chalk?”
“Wha…? Yeah, yeah I do.” And Jack pulls from his pocket the piece of white chalk used to draw the circle in the attic, except it now glows a warm amber color.
“This is perfect, thank the Lord! He’s shining on you, young one,” she says, rushing forward and taking the chalk from his outstretched palm.
She holds the chalk up, as if she were to draw on a wall, except there is no wall. Yet as she moves her hand, the line of chalk appears and begins to take the shape of a door in midair. Once completed, she opens the door and looks inside; leaning back satisfied, she turns back to the three stunned mortals.
“It was truly fortunate you had this.” she says, handing the chalk back to Jack. “Keep hold of it; chalk is rare and always useful.”
Looking over their shoulders towards the Grey City, she sees a faint dust cloud. As she had feared, it seems that at least one person has become curious of the Light at the Crossroad and is coming out to investigate.
“I know this is asking a lot from you to trust me without giving you any reason or explanation, but we are running out of time. I need you to step into the little room I made. I am going to close the door and when I do, you are going to be covered in the Essence of this place. It will not be a pleasant sensation, I’m sorry to say. Before I close the door, I need you to take a deep breath and hold it until I open it again. I need you to keep your mouth and eyes closed also. It will be hard but please, if you can do this then you will be hidden from the others, at least for a little while and we can find a way to get you home.”
Stopping, breathless, she waits and watches the three Mortals as they stare disbelieving at her, the dust cloud growing larger behind them.
“What’s going to happen in there?” the larger young man asks, pointing to the door.
“As I said, you will be covered in Essence. It will feel like a thousand little bugs crawling all over you, which I know will feel disturbing.” She looks at them apologetically and continues, “Keep your eyes and mouths closed and do not breathe. That way the Essence will not infect you. You don’t want to take it in; if you do, I don’t know what will happen when you return to the Physical Realm.”
She gives a contrite smile at their horrified looks.
“A thousand bugs?” the young man with the chalk says, his eyes bulging. As the woman reaches for his hand again, the other man claps him on the shoulder, seeming to jolt him from his distress.
“C’mon, little brother, we got this. It won’t take long, right?” he looks at her with a firm eye.
“No, not long. Count to ten slowly in your head. I will have the door open again before you’re done,” Aliya replies.
“See, Jack,” the woman joins in, pulling him gently towards the door, “just to the count of ten.”
The first man enters then the woman and lastly the young man named Jack. The room is no bigger than a broom closet and she gives a silent prayer to God that He fills them with the courage they would need to stand still in that little room’s darkness as the Essence of this Grey and Lost world crawls over them.
Aliya smiles and says softly, “Close your eyes and take a deep breath.” Then she clos
es the door and prays for God’s Protection and Guidance.
CHAPTER TEN
Marcy knew exactly when Aliya had closed the door. Even with her eyes closed, she felt the darkness grow deeper and then suddenly she felt the Essence Aliya was talking about. Just as she described, it felt as if thousands of tiny spiders were crawling all over her at once. She felt Jack jerk beside her and she moved her hand just slightly so she could press it against his jean-clad thigh. She didn’t count; instead, she prayed.
She prayed that Jack would remain calm, that none of them would open their eyes or take a breath. She prayed that Aliya was the friend she claimed to be and that together they would find a way home. Just as she said Amen, she felt the darkness lift, the spiders disappear, and Aliya was there telling them they could open their eyes. As she stepped out of the room, surprised to see that nothing about their appearance seemed to have changed, she wondered who she was praying to. Marcy didn’t believe in God.
This strange, exceptionally beautiful woman named Aliya was beaming her approval at them and motioning for them to follow her to an old rusty blue sedan parked on the side of the road. Glancing around, she notices that each direction of road is paved differently, with the intersection itself being white. It seems Aliya planned on taking them to the distant city at the end of the potholed asphalt. As she walks towards the car, she glances to her left at a wide smooth stone-paved road, which gives her goose bumps.
“Where are we going?” she asks Aliya as she climbs into the backseat beside Jack. Kyle has already taken the front passenger seat and seems to be eyeing Aliya with interest—the pig—as she turns the key and the car sputters and starts.
“I’m going to take you to a friend of mine. La’sha will know what to do.” Her eyes crinkle in the rearview as she smiles,
“Don’t worry. We’ll get you home.”
“Who are you really?” Kyle asks, leaning against the door so he can better face her.
“I wouldn’t trust the door latch on this car if I were you,” Aliya replies warily.
As Kyle straightens quickly, she continues, “I’ll answer your questions as I can, but first what are your names? And how in the heck did you manage to land here?”
“I’m Marcy.” she says, leaning forward between the front seats.
“This is Jack and that over there is Jack’s brother, Kyle.” Marcy waves in his direction and Kyle smirks at her jab.
“We were trying to contact a spirit—right, Jack?” she says, turning to him, worried by his strange silence and panicked eyes.
He looks back from the window he had been staring out, “What? Oh, yeah, we were trying to conjure an entity. That’s what the book said. I did exactly what it said to do.” Jack shakes his head, “I don’t understand what went wrong.”
Aliya’s brows go up in the mirror, “Conjure an entity? Wow, and it brought you here? I’d say you didn’t do the spell wrong, you did it too right.”
“What do you mean by too right?” Jack asks as he leans forward so that he was now against Marcy’s side.
“Well, a spell that conjures is creating an opening, a temporary rip in the Veil. The entity that notices this rip will immediately try to go through it. Since the Veil won’t allow that, not unless some truly powerful demonic energy was being used, instead those on the physical side are able to communicate with the barred spirit.” Aliya shrugs, “They probably will say whatever they think will encourage the mortals on the other side to try the rip again. Like I said, they go mad with craving the mortal body; they are desperate to touch the Physical Realm. It is why the Bible warns not to speak with spirits.”
“Why? What have we got that you don’t have here?” Kyle asks.
Aliya seems to think about it for a moment then answers, “Free will and power. You don’t realize it, but you have an enormous amount of power and the free will to exert it. That is in very short supply on this side of Reality.”
“So if we have so much power, why are we hiding? And why are you not trying to take us on yourself?” Kyle crosses his arms over his chest and risks the door latch to stare down her profile.
Marcy can’t help but feel impressed. She didn’t think Kyle would be the one to press the beautiful woman the most for answers. She would have expected him to flirt with her, not interrogate her.
Aliya just smiles; “It’s tempting, but I already get opportunity to possess mortal bodies, and if I tried for yours I’d lose my chance for better.”
Aliya spends the rest of the drive to the city explaining about La’sha and this existence and the beginning of her history. But when she reaches for her chain to show them her First Gate key, she realizes it’s not there.
“I have to get it! I have to!” Aliya actually swerves the car slightly in her panic.
Alarmed, Marcy leans forward, squeezing her shoulder in comfort. “It’s okay, Aliya. Okay? We’ll go get your key then we’ll go see your friend.”
“Right. Yes. I am all right, thank you,” she says, giving Marcy’s hand a squeeze and wiping her eyes. She drives them into the large sprawling metropolitan and parks on the dirty street in front of a gloomy brick building.
“Is this where you live?” Marcy asks as they follow Aliya up the clanging metal staircase that climbed up the side of the building.
“Sort of.” she replies absently.
Halfway down the top floor walkway, she stops in front of a dingy door, a half-closed jasmine painted on the front in purple.
“It’s not home,” Aliya says as she flips through her key chain, “it’s just for now.” Fumbling through her pockets again she exclaims, “Where is my door key?”
Suddenly the next door over opens and an ugly skinny man with beady eyes and oiled back hair steps out.
“You got some company.” he wheezes as he looks them all up and down lecherously. “Why don’t you and your friends join me for a drink?”
“Or we could just drink a bottle of ipecac and puke in the comfort of our own home.” an incredibly gorgeous man says as he swings open her door and steps onto the landing.
Dangling the necklace she had described in front of her, he says, “You left your key. Who does that? Who leaves their key to the Mortal Plane on the back of the toilet? Really?!” Then he looks at the three of them with raised eyebrows and turns to lock the door.
“Hey, asshole!” weasel man shouts out, “Just because she’s banging you doesn’t me she can’t party with me.”
Aliya bares her teeth and hisses while the handsome man looks over his shoulder to the oily man in almost a bored fashion.
“One—she and I are not ‘banging.’ What we do together is beautiful and much more glorious than ‘banging.’” Aliya snorts and he shushes her before continuing, “Two—no she cannot ‘party’ with you because … look in the mirror and pick a reason.”
He flicks the weasel man the bird then herds them all down the walkway back towards the stairs.
Just as the greasy man starts to follow, the Adonis twirls around with a furious face, “Don’t! I’ve had it with you and the noises you always make, disgustingly thin walls! Crawl back into your hole or I will take great pleasure in throwing you over the railings—again.” Then he flashes a wicked smile, turns back, and gives them a wink, and dismisses the nasty man outright.
As they get to street level, Aliya turns as if to say something to him but he holds up his finger to silence her.
“I can see these fine young people come with a grand story.” he says as he twirls his finger in the direction of her hand. Marcy looks down and frowns in confusion, seeing nothing amiss, but Aliya gasps.
“How did it miss the side of your hand?” she cries.
Marcy turns her hand around and looks up at Jack and Kyle, but both look as confused as she is.
“I don’t see anything?” she says, as the handsome stranger ushers her to a parked SUV.
He opens the passenger door and leans in to pull something from the glove box. Handing the piece of black leather
to her, she realizes it is a woman’s glove.
“Why do you have women’s gloves in your glove box?” she asks, slightly aghast.
He gives her a look of utter contempt then replies, “Rewind what you said in your head and replay it, then realize how much smarter I am than you.”
She can’t stop herself from giving a slight laugh as she slips on the glove, although she gets the feeling that this guy should not receive any kind of encouragement.
Jack helps her into the middle of the back bench seat as Kyle slides in from the other side. From the front passenger, Aliya turns back to them as the man starts the engine and pulls out onto the side street.
“Everyone, this is Erech. Erech, this is Kyle, Marcy, and Jack.” she introduces them, pointing to each in turn.
Erech nods a glance to each in the rearview then says, “So, where are we going and why are they here? Answer the first one first because I’m low on gas and I couldn’t find anything to sell in your crapartment.”
Marcy stares, shocked at what he just said, but Aliya just laughs and shakes her head while digging into his glove compartment.
“I never leave anything of worth there. You should know better than to try.” She pulls out an old garden glove from the very back of the glove compartment and reaches inside, pulling out a small leather pouch.
“What the hell?” Erech watches her out of the corner of his eye as he swerves through blistering traffic that is going way too fast for how much there was.
“I leave my valuables where only I will find them,” Aliya says, sticking out her tongue at him before handing him a few small bronze-colored coins. “Fill up the tank and then take us to the First Gate. I’m going to ask La’sha to carry them back over the Veil.” And she goes on to give Erech a quick overview of what has happened.
Erech grouses about being used as a safety deposit box and pulls into an old-fashioned gas station. The pumps are brown and made of cracked grimy plastic, with large block tops. The numbers on the dial that roll up with clicking noises as he pumps the gas. He turns to the station attendant who has stood within arm’s reach of him the entire time and dumps the coins into his hand.