by David Wood
“What do you mean hurt?”
“We heard you holler out that Jesse was hurt.”
“I did no such thing. You're hearing things.”
“Both of us?”
“Well, maybe not. But it don't matter now. Where’s Clay?”
“Dunno. He was supposed to stay there, but he must’ve gone looking for me. Guess it might be that damn Shipman boy.”
A bark of harsh laughter. “What is he gonna do?” Grant recognized Jesse Stallard’s voice. “Now stand back at your post and if anybody does come by, shoot them in the face. Get on with you, now. It's time.”
Moments later, Jed and Jesse Stallard emerged from the passage and strode down into the cavern, passing within less than a yard of where Grant crouched, heart hammering.
“It looks like it's about time,” Jesse called out.
Giving her son an approving smile, Mary Ann Stallard broke away from a group of women and moved to her husband's side. They joined hands and moved toward the middle of the cavern, along with Brunswick. Cassie's father smiled at the pastor and nodded, seemingly unbothered by the imminent demise of his only daughter.
Edwin Stallard raised his hands and, slowly, those assembled grew quiet. Unlike the others, he wore a robe like those Grant had seen in his father’s book. “Folks, if I might have your attention please. The time of conjunction is upon us and all has been prepared as it needs to be! It's been fifty years since we last had this chance and some of us were just children then, like the next generation here to witness tonight.”
He gestured to one side and Grant craned his neck to see, stunned to spot twenty or more children gathered in the back of the cavern, watching with wide eyes. What kind of thing was this to put in front of kids? Some of them looked as young as two or three. Even the two little girls Cassie minded were there, their faces open and expectant.
“Some of our number were fortunate enough to be involved last time,” Edwin went on. He held out one hand to indicate a gathering of old-timers, some being supported by family and friends, too old and infirm to stand unaided. “Brother Jack there stood in my stead last time, blessed with the honor of welcoming Kaletherex into our world. We thank you, Jack.”
The old man indicated bowed his head and smiled at the polite smattering of applause.
What the hell was wrong with these people? Grant felt like he'd walked in on a church picnic, not a cult's dark rite.
“And thanks must go to Graham Brunswick,” Edwin said, laying a hand on Cassie's father's shoulder. “For it is by his faithfulness that now we have the vessel we require.” Brunswick beamed like a praised schoolboy as Edwin Stallard indicated Cassie, tied and terrified beside them. “Ain't she a picture, there,” Stallard said.
Cassie stared up at them with terror-filled eyes. “You sick bastards!” she screamed and Grant was proud of the strength in her voice even as his heart swelled fit to crack at her predicament. “Daddy? Why are you doing this to me?” Suddenly, the little girl was so clear in her eyes, even through her terror, that Grant had to look away.
“Now, at long last, the time of the conjunction is once again upon us!” Edwin Stallard cried, reigniting the crowd’s zeal. The murmur of voices rose and excitement filled the air again. “All is ready,” Stallard went on. “The time has come to draw the blood that shall summon Kaletherex to grace us with his presence and bestow upon us the bounty of his blessings!”
Cheers and applause boomed in the cavern. Grant looked frantically around as the sounds pounded his ears. What could he do? How could he do anything to save Cassie against so many. Several people around the cave had guns in plain sight, rifles and shotguns hanging casually in their arms. He was sure that several more would have small arms concealed on themselves.
“Brothers and sisters, I must now caution you to exercise restraint during this ritual. The life that Brother Brunswick has so generously provided us belongs, not to us, but to Kaletherex. We draw only her blood. He draws forth her life. Only in the desecration of the body may the soul be released to him, and once that gift is given, then shall Kaletherex reward us with his blessing. Remember, do no harm to the vessel, for she is Kaletherex's and his alone. And do not come between them, lest you be consumed.”
Now everyone did fall silent. A few children inched closer to their parents. Grant felt no sympathy for any of them. They spared not a thought for Cassie, but feared only for themselves.
Cliff Stallard stepped forward, holding a watch high above his head. “Conjunction!”
“At last!” The reverend drew a large, shining knife from his belt and retrieved the tan leather book so familiar to Grant. He held the book open in one hand, his blade in the other.
Grant almost stood from cover, his mind a whirl of indecision. He'd have to kill the pastor first, then figure it out from there.
Wait, son. Something, somewhere, seemed to speak to him, a voice distant and ethereal. It is the demon we must fight, not the people.
We? Grant thought, and he knew Josiah Brunswick was with him. In some manner, the spirit of the old warlock hovered nearby.
Aye, lad, we. When Kaletherex is near, so am I.
Edwin Stallard stood behind Cassie's head, the knife raised high. Somewhere in the depths of the cavern a deep, a sonorous drum beat began, echoing back and forth around the huge space. Every person gathered fell to their knees and began to chant, a rhythmic, repetitive sequence of ugly words. Cassie screamed, and Stallard spoke strange and broken phrases as he read from the book. He drew his knife slowly along her body, raising a line of blood from her navel up between her breasts.
As Cassie's screams rose, the drum beat louder, the people chanted more fervently and a scouring heat swept through the cavern. The air some five yards from Cassie's feet shimmered and flexed, colors danced across each other like sunlight refracted through a lens and a stench of sulphur filled the air. With a crack like lightning and a shock wave pulse of searing wind, something huge, black and terrible stepped into the world.
Chapter 22
Even crouched on the cave floor, the demon Kaletherex stood taller than any man, and was a mass of corded muscle pressed through tight black skin stretched like a dark membrane across its imposing bulk. Its face was bull-like, with a wide, smoking mouth bristling with huge black fangs. Shining obsidian horns curved up from its head, their razor points almost meeting. Long claws glistened from every fingertip and cut into the cavern floor from every toe. The demon threw its head back and cried out to the heavens, the sound reverberating off the cavern walls and drilling through to Grant's terrified soul. It stretched its arms wide and roared again.
The pounding drum redoubled its beat, the chanting rose in pace in and volume, the voices a cacophony of stuttering rhythm. Mesmerized in the ritual, no one appeared frightened.
A man ran forward and prostrated himself at the demon's feet. His wife, eyes wide, grabbed at him, tried to pull him away. Hunger burned in the onlookers’ eyes, their faces gleeful, as the creature lifted the man from the floor. He gibbered, frothing at the mouth in his insane zealotry as Kaletherex slid its claws into his gut, twisted slowly, and drew forth a rope of steaming entrails. His shrieks cut off as Kaletherex bit into his throat. The man's wife screamed as the demon ripped her husband to pieces and swallowed large chunks of the man whole. Suddenly aware of her, the demon clubbed her with her husband's leg, slamming her to the cave floor. She hit the ground, twitched once and lay still.
Graham Brunswick and Edwin Stallard stepped away from Cassie as she screamed and thrashed against the chains that bound her. Kaletherex turned toward her and stepped forward. The lamplight seemed to dim as the demon rose to its full height.
Grant, fighting against nausea from disgust and fear, forced his muscles to work. His heart pounding, blood pulsing in his temples, his stomach an icy mass of terror, he stood and yelled out, “Leave her alone!”
The chanting faltered and eyes turned to see Grant. He stood on the rock he had hidden behind and raised hi
s arms. From somewhere deep within, his voice rose, empowered by the presence in his mind. “I'm here to face you, Kaletherex!”
“It's Shipman!” Reverend Stallard called. “Shoot him!”
A few weapons swung in Grant's direction, but most were transfixed by Kaletherex and seemed aware of nothing else. Grant felt incredibly vulnerable standing so tall and, rather than face the instant death of dozens of bullet wounds, he leapt from the rock and ran for Kaletherex. He emptied the stolen revolver as he ran, unsure if he hit anything as people dove for cover.
Gasps and shouts resounded around the cavern. The demon crouched and roared again, its voice turning Grant's stomach to water, his legs to tissue. He stared into two fiery red, bottomless eyes and his courage deserted him. He saw hell and eternity in those flaming orbs and knew himself to be irrelevant. The gun dropped from his weak fingers.
A shot rang out and Grant winced, but from the corner of his eye he saw Edwin Stallard stagger back, clutching at his chest.
“You crazy ass people done gone too far!” The voice rang out from the tunnel leading to the cavern. Amos! Where had he gotten a rifle? Amos's face was bloody and bruised, his wounded arm scarlet through the dressings, but he was here and fighting.
Grant found strength in the man's devotion and resourcefulness, and leapt to the side just as Kaletherex closed the gap between them and swiped at him with one huge, taloned hand. The pastor's death seemed to break the spell over the crowd, and confusion and panic swept the room. A press of bodies surged between Grant and the demon as people raced in every direction at once.
“Kill them both!” Graham Brunswick screamed over the tumult.
Amos's son, Elijah, armed with a rifle, stood guard near Cassie. As Graham Brunswick raised a pistol to shoot Amos, Elijah yelled out in alarm. “No!” He swung his weapon up and fired at point blank range into Brunswick's chest. The slug tore through Brunswick in a burst of blood and bone, sent him flying backward.
Amos fired again and again, aiming for anyone who held a weapon, and picking off several, as he ran along one edge of the cavern. People screamed and fought, some trying to get away, others trying to take down Elijah or Amos. A scattering of shots rang out as some of the cultists finally managed to fight back, but the chaos prevented them from getting off good shots. Most went wild, ricocheting off the cavern walls, while others took down fleeing townspeople. It was utter madness and, over it all, the demon Kaletherex roared with something like glee. The creature swept a knot of townspeople aside and came at Grant again.
Grant ducked and rolled, the enchanted bowie knife in his hand. As he came up onto his knees he slashed at the demon, missed, and rolled away again. In his peripheral vision he saw one of the Stallard boys take aim at him and, the next instant, a bullet zipped past his nose, cracking into the rock plinth behind him. Fighting a demon while being shot at? No way.
The last remaining cult members were now firing with impunity, and the repeated gunshots made a deafening counterpoint to Kaletherex's roars as they echoed around the cave. Grant spotted Elijah roll to one side and come up behind the plinth. He aimed his rifle over Cassie's thrashing, screaming form and fired a well-aimed shot across the cavern.
Grant never saw if Elijah hit his target. Too late, Grant realized he had been distracted and Kaletherex struck out. One massive, burning hot black arm collected him across his chest and lifted him high, sent him flying backwards through the air. As he flew, he swept the knife around and felt it bite into the flesh of the demon's arm.
As Grant hit the ground with a bone-jarring impact, Kaletherex screamed. The demon's arm was rent from wrist to elbow and the wound poured thick, viscous black blood and steam roiled up like a volcano.
Dragging air into his protesting lungs, Grant grinned. His every nerve was amped, his eyes alive with power. He saw everything. He had wounded it! Deep down, he hadn't really believed it was possible.
Don't let it get to Cassie, the voice in his head hissed. If it gets her soul, its power will be unstoppable for a moon's turn!
People struggled to fight their way out of the cavern, but the throng was bottlenecked at the narrow passageway. Gunfire reverberated through the chamber, and Elijah still hid by Cassie, sheltering by the stone altar where she lay bound.
Grant ducked under the sweeping arm of Kaletherex once more and rolled nearer to her. “Cut her free!” he yelled. “Get her out of here, it's the only chance we have!”
He moved again, drawing Kaletherex aside, and dashed forward once more. Red hot talons raked across his back and he ducked and slashed out with the knife. He yelped in pain, but felt the blade slice through the demon's flesh once more. Kaletherex shrieked, its gashed thigh bleeding and steaming.
Grant turned to face the demon and Kaletherex halted, staring hard at the knife that had so painfully wounded it twice. The creature tensed and began to circle, not quite fearfully, but carefully.
“Not so fucking harmless, am I?” He wished he felt as brave as he sounded, but he was beginning to worry. Kaletherex was now wary of him, but clearly the wounds Grant had inflicted were far from grave. He'd imagined that a single drop of Ma Withers' potion would, he didn't know, melt the beast like the witch in The Wizard of Oz. His own wounds pained him, draining the energy from him. Could he at least keep Kaletherex at bay long enough for Cassie to get free?
And then he realized what Kaletherex was doing. The beast was circling toward the altar. It wanted Cassie. Grant moved to intercept the beast, and it roared as it stalked closer.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Elijah sawing at Cassie's bonds with a pocket knife. And behind Elijah, Cliff Stallard appeared, rifle raised.
As Grant was about to call out, Amos emerged from shadow and put his rifle to the back of Cliff's head and fired. Cliff's face vanished in a scarlet explosion. A wave of satisfaction washed through Grant, but it was short lived. More shots rang out and Amos's chest burst in twin sprays of blood.
“Amos!” he cried out, his voice echoed by Elijah, who saw his father fall. Cassie rolled off the altar, her bonds cut, as Kaletherex rushed Grant again.
This time, Grant was too slow. The demon's claws raked across his arm, tearing the knife free, and the force of its charge sent him hurtling backward. He flew through the air and hit the ground hard, the air leaving his lungs in a rush. He pushed himself up on his elbows and watched helplessly as Kaletherex charged in for the kill.
Suddenly, the demon froze, flailing its arms around its face as if swatting flies. Grant was suddenly aware of the continued gunfire, and realized the demon was caught in the crossfire between Elijah and whoever had shot Amos. Unlike the wounds from Grant's knife, the bullets did little more than annoy the demon. It turned and charged what it believed were new attackers.
A familiar voice screamed, “No! I'm on your side!” Moments later, Jesse Stallard's broken body flew from the darkness and landed with a wet smack next to Grant.
Grant gazed dumbly at the shredded corpse, unable to summon the strength to fight. He realized the power of Ma Withers’ protections at the sight of how utterly Jesse had been destroyed by one of the demon’s blows. But even so, the moments of his life were numbered by the seconds it would take for Kaletherex to find and kill the other shooter. Then it would come for Grant.
Someone poked him. Grant looked around, but no one was there. The invisible hand prodded again. He remembered Josiah's finger tucked in his pocket.
You gotta finish this, boy. This ain't no time for dancing. The voice said. Kaletherex has its vessel on this earth, and I have mine. Don't forget, I am with you!
A strange calm rose up through Grant, wrapping him in warm detachment. He reached into his pocket and pulled Josiah Brunswick's finger free, gripping it for strength, and hauled himself to his feet. He didn't turn and run, but searched around for his knife. He found it nearby. His fingers closed around the hilt, and he turned to see Kaletherex impale Sheriff Barton on a stalagmite.
“Grant! Come on!” Cassie,
leaning heavily on Elijah, was hobbling toward the passage leading out. “We've got to get out of here.”
“You go.” Wrapped in the void, he scarcely recognized his own voice. “I'll be there soon.” The lie left his lips smoothly, and he felt not a pang of regret as he positioned himself in the path of the demon. He would die here, but Cassie was going to get away. His sacrifice, and Amos's, would not be for nothing.
Kaletherex seemed to move in slow motion as it charged. As the beast loomed over him, massive arms wide, Grant let himself be gathered up in its crushing embrace. The heat of the demon's body burned where it touched his skin. Distantly he heard Cassie scream. His flesh blistered, he smelled his hair burning, and the pain, both agonizing and enlivening, pulsed through him. It was all a faraway thing, and he pushed it aside as he stabbed the demon in the face and neck with the tainted blade, keeping its fanged jaws at bay. His blade bit through infernal flesh and bone again and again as the demon howled.
Grant's strength waned with every blow, but he could feel the demon flagging as well. He yelled as he poured the last of his strength into his attack. He buried the blade halfway to the hilt in Kaletherex's skull. The demon's hellish roar struck him like a blow and he lost his grip on the knife as it thrashed about. Grant bounced against the cavern wall, scarcely keeping his feet.
But it wasn't a killing blow. Kaletherex, the bowie knife jutting from its forehead like a twisted unicorn, was still very much alive, and very angry with its tormentor. As the demon stalked forward, the voice came again.
That's not the way, boy. I told you, I am with you.
“What do you mean?” he cried, wondering if Brunswick could hear him. “Tell me what to do! The only thing about you that's with me is this damn finger!” The finger writhed in his grip, as if struggling to reach the demon. “The hell with you, Brunswick,” he muttered.
Kaletherex was almost upon him, jaws open wide, ready to devour him. “And the hell with you!” He looked down into the gaping, tooth-filled maw of the demon and laughed maniacally. “Remember Josiah Brunswick? Here's what's left of him, and I hope you choke on it!” He laughed again and thrust the writhing finger deep into Kaletherex's throat.