The Presence

by Shady Grim

  “I don’t know what happened,” said Jim, rubbing his hand gingerly over his temple.

  Herbert pulled Jim to his feet, still fighting the urge to kill him. The Lord wasn’t here; He wouldn’t see anything. Maybe Herbert could blame it on Royal. The howling of the forest spirits made him change his mind. Jim was so unsteady on his feet that Herbert had to escort him back to Lizbet. They had to walk slowly, which took much more time than Herbert liked. He needed to check on the other two as quickly as possible. Rick sprinted from the dock when Herbert appeared in the clearing, and helped Jim into the kitchen where Shelly placed a cold rag on Jim’s head. Herbert stayed outside. Gerald still hadn’t arrived. Herbert wasted no time heading south to check on his prize. All he found were the bindings that Byron had used lying on the ground. Herbert skirted the area and found Byron tied to a tree. He kicked Byron’s backside before he untied him. He was just as useless as Jim, and even more cowardly.

  “I didn’t see anything, sir,” said Byron. “I just remember walking away from Heather, and then waking up here.”

  Herbert didn’t need to ask questions. He already knew who was responsible. A deep-seated rage was beginning to boil inside Herbert. He would make Royal’s death as painful as possible for trying to shatter his mother’s hopes. Byron gently felt the back of his head and winced. He was also a little unsteady on his feet. Herbert had to escort him too, which wasted even more valuable time.

  Rick mixed some weird-smelling powdered stuff that Lizbet had given him with a little water and gave it to Jim to drink. “Mrs. Fitzgerald said this’ll make you feel better.”

  “Ugh, that tastes horrible!” Shelly gave him more water to rinse his mouth. Jim leaned forward over the table and rested his head on his folded arms.

  Rick looked around the kitchen and shivered. “This place gives me the creeps.”

  “I hate it here!” spat Shelly. “It feels like a thousand pairs of eyes are on me all the time.”

  Rick moved near the kitchen window and stopped to sniff the air. “What’s that smell?”

  “Garlic. Ethan put it all over the house to ward off evil spirits,” explained Shelly to their mutual amusement. Shelly walked past the kitchen door and the guinea pigs began to holler. “Shut up!” she screamed. The pigs scattered and hid in their wooden house. “I hate those things! They’re never quiet!”

  “Just ignore them, girl!” ordered Lizbet from the bottom of the porch steps. “They’ll die in the fire when we burn down this horrible house.” Lizbet saw Herbert and Byron and called for Rick to help. Rick raced outside and ran across the clearing to take Byron’s arm. Herbert retreated into the woods with a wild look in his eyes that sent a shiver down Rick’s back.

  Herbert charged to the massive, old, oak tree that he’d tied Campbell to. He made considerably more noise than he should have, but he was so angry that he didn’t care. He roared loudly in a vicious bestial temper when he saw that Campbell was missing. Royal would pay dearly for this. Now Herbert had to collect three of the four sacrifices and bring them to Lizbet for safekeeping.

  Lizbet checked Byron’s head and eyes and gave Rick the same weird powder she’d given him for Jim. Byron chose to sit on the ground with his head resting on his knees rather than enter the house. Herbert was setting everything right again, and Lizbet was beginning to relax. She went to the dock to check on Persephone, and wasn’t at all surprised to find that Persephone hadn’t done anything except play games on her cell phone. But this was no time for arguments. Everything had to be set up properly and Lizbet needed to focus. She sent Persephone back to her car so she could work in peace. Lizbet swept the dock with a broom she’d fashioned herself for this very purpose. The broom was made entirely from hawthorn. She poured buckets of water drawn from the lake over the dock. She prayed to focus her mind and cleanse her soul while the dock was drying. Lizbet took a thick piece of white chalk out of her bag of supplies and began drawing a complicated string of magical symbols on all four sides of the dock. At each directional point, she placed a lantern containing a single, large, self-made candle; each one color-matched to its corresponding cardinal direction. In the center of the dock, Lizbet drew a large triangle. The uppermost point of the triangle pointed to the house. The bottom of the triangle was open in the middle. The two lines that should have interconnected were drawn outward in two small arcs so that the power of both the water and the energy from the sacrifices would be drawn into the triangle. Lastly, Lizbet reverently lifted a baseball-sized chunk of rock out of her bag. It was blackened and partially melted. She placed the rock in the very center of the triangle, and drew lines radiating from each corner of the triangle to the charred rock. She’d just finished her masterpiece when she heard Gerald’s van approaching.

  Fitzie hopped out of his van and cheerfully asked, “Am I late?”

  Persephone hugged him and whispered in his ear. “Mother’s upset with you.”

  “When isn’t she?”

  “Speaking of...” said Persephone as Lizbet approached.

  “Gerald, you’re late!” shouted Lizbet.

  “I’m sorry, Mother. I was held up by–”

  “Your harlots! I already know what you’ve been doing, and we’ll sort that out later. The children are at the Zee residence. Take Byron and Rick with you and secure them.” Lizbet didn’t strike the ground with her stick like she normally did after giving an order. Instead, she ground it into the earth in a way that told Gerald that he’d better not make any mistakes.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Gerald collected Byron and Rick and drove off. Byron sat in the passenger seat, and Rick chose to sit in the back. The amount of bickering that the two brothers engaged in was legendary, and Rick had no desire to get caught between them.

  “Stop humming!” snapped Byron. “I’ve got a headache!”

  “Touchy...touchy,” said Gerald in that happy sing-song voice that deeply irritated Byron. “I thought you were supposed to be playing woodsman with Father.”

  “Change of plans,” mumbled Byron.

  Gerald sat up a little straighter. His tone became more serious. “Mother never changes her mind. What happened? Did that behemoth, Campbell, overpower you?”

  “I didn’t see anything. All I know is I got hit in the head, Father found me, and now the plan is changed.”

  “Maybe Mother talked to her invisible friend again,” laughed Gerald.

  “That thing is real,” said Rick from the back of the nearly empty work van. “Jim told me.”

  “Ronnie and I grew up in that miserable excuse for a home, and I can tell you there’s nothing in it except a very weird pair of old people.”

  The three men arrived at the Zee residence and discussed their plan before getting out of the van. Gerald reached under the front seat and handed a bundle of rope to Byron. “Keep this and your pistol behind your back until we get in the door,” said Gerald as he leaned over to retrieve his revolver from the glove compartment. They approached the front door and rang the doorbell. The two brothers were well-practiced liars. They appeared as they always did; Byron looked sullen and Gerald was smiling. Rick walked behind them. He was so nervous that his mouth had gone dry.

  Dr. Zee opened the door, puzzlement etched plainly on his face. “You boys never visit. Is everything alright?”

  “Everything’s fine,” smiled Gerald. He reached back and took Rick by the arm. “My friend here just wants to see his son.” Zee started to tell them to leave when Byron waved his pistol in front of Zee’s face. “Don’t make this difficult, Doc,” smiled Gerald. They entered the dining room with Zee at gunpoint, his hands folded on top of his head. Mrs. Zee was seated with the children and engrossed in playing a board game with them. It was Jimmy who first noticed the men enter.

  “Dad!” shouted Jimmy as he ran to greet his father.

  “Who are you?” asked Mrs. Zee in a sudden panic.

  “Just stay there and shut up, and you’ll be fine,” said Byron. He sat Dr. Zee in a chair across from his
wife and told Rick to tie him up, while Byron tied Mrs. Zee.

  “Sherman?” Mrs. Zee whispered to her husband. He looked her in the eyes and shook his head. She fell silent. Jimmy quietly watched as his father tied up Dr. Zee.

  While the men were distracted with the Zees, Emmy crept across the room toward the telephone. Gerald caught her before she reached the phone and scooped her off her feet. He laughed as she kicked and punched wildly, trying to break free of his grip. He flipped the house telephone off the hook and walked over to Rick. Jimmy stood stock-still next to his father. Tears streamed down his face. “Help me get her tied.”

  “Just wait ‘till I tell my dad!” shouted Emily, trying very hard to kick Gerald’s groin. “He’s bigger than you!” Gerald laughed. It was a mirthless and cold sort of laughter that reminded Byron too strongly of their father. Byron watched Rick and Gerald fighting to secure Emmy while he used the leather straps he’d brought with him to gag the Zees.

  “That’s one feisty kid,” said Byron.

  Once Emily was securely tied, Gerald passed her over to Rick while he rummaged in his trouser pocket. He pulled out a green marker. Emmy tried to bite and head-butt Gerald when he leaned down to mark her forehead. Gerald laughed harder. He stood up abruptly and said, “Marker’s not working. Anyone have a spare?”

  “Let me try,” said Rick. Gerald took hold of Emmy again and handed the marker over. Rick shook it vigorously and drew a few green lines on the back of his hand. “It works. Sometimes you have to shake them.”

  “Thanks,” replied Gerald cheerfully as he held Emmy still enough for Rick to mark her forehead. “Would you mind, Ronnie?” Gerald tilted his head toward Jimmy, and Byron moved to tie the boy’s hands behind his back with a leather strap.

  “But you said you wouldn’t hurt Jimmy,” said Rick.

  “We’re not, Rick,” said Gerald, his smile was pleasant and disarming. “It’s just a precaution. You know, so he doesn’t run away.”

  “Jimmy won’t run. I’m here.”

  “Good...good,” replied Gerald as he patted his free hand on his trousers. Byron handed him a small flashlight. “Thanks, Ronnie. Shall we?” Gerald hoisted Emmy over his shoulder and pushed Rick forward.

  “My dad’s gonna kick yer butt!” Emmy’s tone was venomous; her expression determined.

  “Can you handle this, Ronnie?”

  “Just get going,” barked Byron. He waited twenty seconds before leveling his pistol at Mrs. Zee’s temple. She inhaled deeply and locked eyes with her husband. Byron stood motionless watching the couple’s silent exchange. Byron wasn’t as frightened as he thought he would be. He felt good about this. He slowly raised his hand and fired one round, then another, into the ceiling above the dining table. Several small pieces of white plaster clattered onto the table. He smiled at Dr. Zee, patted Mrs. Zee’s trembling shoulder, and limped away.

  The party of four exited the Zee’s backdoor and plodded in the dark toward the yew tree that Lizbet had had told Gerald about. Rick walked very near to Gerald as he was the only one with a flashlight. He had a tight grip on Jimmy’s arm. Jimmy averted his eyes to the ground until they walked beyond the bright and welcoming disks of light coming from the Zee’s house. Gerald’s flashlight was small and barely bright enough to light their way, but Jimmy didn’t care. The darkness didn’t frighten him anymore. He felt a strange coldness inside himself that he’d never felt before and it confused him. His eyes were adjusting to the dark, and he could just see the outline of Emmy’s body over Gerald’s shoulder. She was strangely still. He felt his father flinch when two gunshots rang out. Ethan wouldn’t have flinched, and he wouldn’t have helped the Fitzgerald brothers tie anyone up either. They wouldn’t be walking to their deaths in the dark if Ethan were here.

  “One...and two, ha!” said Gerald merrily. “I didn’t think Ronnie had it in him.” Gerald began humming a happy tune as the small party trudged on. “Ah, here we are! So good of old Herbert to put a green ribbon around the tree for me.” Gerald laid Emmy on the ground, and she slammed both feet into his groin. He doubled over, but he wasn’t incapacitated. He was smiling. “Give me a hand, Rick.” Rick moved in front of Gerald and collapsed to the ground when Gerald smashed the butt of his pistol into the back of Rick’s head. At this point, Gerald was supposed to secure Rick to the yew tree and wait for Lizbet’s instruction, but the feeling was too intense for him. He continued to bash Rick’s head.

  “Look away, Jimmy!” shouted Emily. “Run! Get outta here!” But Jimmy couldn’t move. His eyes were fixated on his father. He heard the spine-chilling death sounds that his father made. He heard the sickly thud of Gerald’s gun hitting his father’s head over and over again. He saw the slackened expression on his father’s face, but the dense darkness spared him the most gruesome sights. Gerald, in his excitement, had dropped his flashlight and it rolled away. It now shone fully on the yew tree. A large heavy hand grabbed Jimmy’s shoulder and threw him to the ground. Byron stood over Gerald and emptied his pistol into Gerald’s body. Emmy, who was closer to the men than Jimmy, was covered in blood and brain matter.

  “That’s for old Willie!” spat Byron. He turned to pull Jimmy to his feet, and untied his hands. He started to untie Emmy when an angry roar erupted from behind the yew tree. Byron stopped and looked for the sound. The shadowy figure of an enormous misshapen man stepped out from behind the tree. Emily’s hands were free, and she wasted no time detangling herself from the rest of the restraints. Byron moved in front of the children. “Run!”

  “What is that?” said Jimmy as Emmy grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the lake.

  “Ignore it, Jimmy. We’re wearin’ our crosses. It can’t hurt us.” Emmy took the slick length of rope she’d been tied with and looped it around their waists.

  “Eww,” said Jimmy. “It’s got goop on it.”

  “That’ll wash off in the lake.” Emmy tried to drag Jimmy into the water, but he wouldn’t budge.

  “It’s pitch black, Em!”

  “The house has lights on, just follow ‘em.”

  “We could get snagged on something.”

  “Would yeh rather stay here?”

  Jimmy looked back and saw Byron throw his pistol at the shadow-man. It went straight threw his ghostly body. Byron turned to flee, but the shadow-man was too fast. He grabbed Byron from behind and lifted him into the air. Byron had barely let out a cry when his head flew in one direction and his body another. The shadow-man ran toward the children. Emmy yanked Jimmy into the icy black water. The shock of the cold water roused Jimmy, and he focused all of his energy on swimming away from the shadow-man. He suddenly found himself feeling profoundly grateful for all of the swimming lessons that Ethan had given him. His tall stocky body was able to power its way through the water and keep up with Emmy, whose long thin body cut through the surface of the water like a razor. The rope quickly began to feel like an anchor and impeded their swimming. They were struggling to keep their heads above the water.

  “Why is the water so cold?” said Jimmy.

  “I don’t know. It ain’t natural. But we can’t rest, or we’ll get too cold to swim.”

  “We need to get this rope off. It’s dragging us down.”

  “No, we’ll get separated,” replied Emmy.

  A deep unnatural-sounding growl coming from the bank stopped them. They treaded water for a few seconds to look back at the shadow-man. He stood a foot or two away from the water’s edge. He pointed at them, then turned away. His body had looked luminescent for a few seconds then went back to its familiar dark shadowy form.

  “What the heck was that about?” said Jimmy.

  “Never mind him. We need to keep goin’. Head for the woods, someone will see us at the dock.”

  Emmy and Jimmy didn’t realize how well sound traveled across water. Lizbet, who was inspecting the dock for mistakes, heard the children’s voices and knew they were coming. The Lord called to her and pointed so she knew exactly where the children were h
eaded. Persephone and Jim were waiting for them when they emerged from the water.

  “Let me go!” shouted Emmy as Persephone ripped her from the water. She was too cold and tired to kick, but she had enough strength left to sink her teeth into Persephone’s hand.

  “Ow! You little bitch!” Persephone wrapped Emmy’s long wet hair around her other hand and dragged her to the house. Jim put the shivering little Jimmy on his hip and followed. Lizbet was waiting for them at the back porch and instantly spotted Emily’s defiant bearing.

  “My, that one’s got spunk.”

  “She’s just like them,” spat Persephone. “She even looks like them.”

  “Give her to Shelly,” said Lizbet.

  “What? But we don’t need her.”

  “Do as I say!” Persephone pulled Emmy a little closer. She kept her injured hand up. Blood ran down her forearm and steadily dripped off the end of her elbow. Lizbet knew exactly what Persephone was planning to do, and she refused to allow Persephone to use a child as a stand-in for Heather Dixon. Lizbet had other plans for the children. “You’ll need that hand tended to if you expect to dispatch your cousin later.”

  “Oh, yeah,” muttered Persephone. She detangled her hand from Emmy’s hair and pushed Emmy toward Jim, who took both children into the house. She allowed Lizbet to clean her hand and arm, pack the wound with medicinal herbs, and securely bandage it. But she refused to swallow any of the painkillers Lizbet offered her. The old bitch was too good with poisons, and Persephone was far too clever to fall for such a potentially deadly ruse. Lizbet looked disappointed, and Persephone felt satisfied.

  Shelly stood up and moved away from the kitchen table to take hold of Emmy’s cold hand. She quickly ushered everyone to the staircase. She shot a quick glance at the study door. It was still closed. That damn dog hadn’t made any noise in hours. Shelly was sure he was dead, and she felt tremendous relief. Surely Lizbet would be proud of her. She led the children into Jimmy’s room.