1 The Bank of the River

by Michael Richan

-

  When they reached Roy’s place, Steven sat in the living room while Roy disappeared into the back. He emerged carrying a 9mm pistol, which he flashed at Steven with a smile, then tucked into his coat pocket.

  “That’s your talisman?” Steven asked.

  “God bless America,” Roy replied, rummaging through a kitchen cabinet.

  “I thought we were going to pick up some trinket that would protect us from evil powers, but your plan is to shoot the guy.”

  “Best protection money can buy,” Roy called to him, as he located a bottle in the cabinet and returned to Steven. “That, and this.” He showed Steven the bottle.

  It was a small Mason jar. Inside was an inch of clear liquid.

  “I’m afraid to ask, but what is it?” Steven said.

  “Hasn’t got a name,” Roy replied, opening it. “I whipped it up a couple of days ago. Old habits die hard, I hid it in the back of the kitchen cabinets, afraid Claire would find it. Guess I could have just left it out here on the counter.”

  “What do you mean,” Steven asked, “you whipped it up?”

  “It’s from the book,” Roy said. “Protection.”

  “Protection?” Steven asked, incredulous. “What is this, a potion from your secret book? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “And you’re telling me,” Roy replied, “that after everything you’ve seen the past few days you think the idea of some extra protection is silly?”

  “The gun I buy,” Steven said, “the potion is bullshit.”

  “Fine, then none for you. But you should know this stuff has been keeping me going the past few days.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” replied Roy, “that without it, I’d be in a hospital bed by now. Lukas would have drained much more than he’s been able to.”

  “What does it do?” Steven asked.

  “Never you mind, it’s bullshit, remember?” Roy shot back sarcastically.

  “Fine, you drink it, and you feel empowered, protected, whatever. Can’t hurt.”

  “Exactly.”

  “What’s in it?”

  “You don’t need to know.”

  “I do if it’s poisonous.”

  “If it was poisonous, why would I drink it? Besides, you’re not going to drink any.”

  Steven sighed. The pattern could go on and on, he was always the one who had to break it.

  “Do you drink it now, or take it with us and drink it there?” Steven asked.

  “I’ll drink it now, provided we’re going straight over to talk to him.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  Roy downed the remaining liquid in the jar and replaced the cap. “Let’s go.”

  -

  Lights were on at the small house next to the Victorian mansion. Steven and Roy had discussed their plan on the ride over. Steven would lay down the theory, and Roy would press him for more information. They didn’t need to tell him everything they knew, or guessed, just enough to upset him and hopefully cause him to divulge more information. Roy would keep the gun ready if things got out of hand.

  Steven knocked, and they waited nervously. A moment later, Michael opened the door.

  “Gentlemen!” he said, enthusiastically. “Come in! Good to see you both again!”

  They walked inside, and he motioned for them to sit on the furniture in the living room. “Please, sit, can I get you anything? Would you like some tea, or some water?”

  “No, we’re fine,” said Steven. Michael turned to look at Roy, seeming to want a confirmation from Roy that he didn’t want anything either. Roy shook his head.

  “Well then, what can I do for you?” Michael asked.

  “Well,” Steven started, “we were hoping you could shed some light on a few problems we’re having.”

  “I’d be delighted to help any way I can,” Michael replied.

  “Thank you for that, I think you’re just the man to help us,” Steven said. “We could really use some more information about the house next door.”

  “Ah, the house again. What is it?”

  Steven looked Michael in the eye.

  “This is just a theory of ours, and I know this might sound crazy, but both I and my father believe that the former resident of the house, fifteen years back, might have been responsible for the disappearance of several young children in the neighborhood.”

  A chill fell upon the room. He looked in Michael’s eyes for any kind of deflection or evasion, but there was none.

  “Doesn’t sound crazy at all,” Michael replied.

  Steven was taken back. “So,” he started, “you think Lukas Johansen might have been responsible for those disappearances?”

  “I don’t think so,” Michael said, “I know so.” He turned his head to Roy. “Just as you know, Roy.”

  Steven turned to look at Roy, who was staring back at Michael. Steven felt there was something passing between them, and he was suddenly glad that Roy had downed the protection before they left.

  “Ours is a theory,” Steven said, trying to keep the plan moving forward. “But it sounds like you might have witnessed something back then?”

  “I did,” Michael said, returning his gaze to Steven. “I helped him consume them.”

  Dead silence. Steven felt a little numb, unsure how to react. This was not the direction he thought things would go. He felt sweat break out on the back of his neck, and he braced himself, half expecting Michael to bolt across the room and attack him. He glanced over to Roy and could see Roy was on full alert, his hand in his coat pocket. He knew that inside, Roy had the gun aimed at Michael.

  “Consume them?” Steven asked.

  “Yes,” Michael said, matter-of-factly. “I captured each of them, prepared them for him, and then we consumed them together.”

  “A ritual?” Roy asked.

  “Funny that you should ask,” Michael said to Roy, “when you already know. But I suppose you ask for his benefit,” he said, returning to Steven. “He seems a little slow.”

  Steven was grasping for the next thing to say that would keep the plan working, but it was clearly failing. He was hoping to shake up Michael, but the reverse was happening. “I guess my next stop should be the police,” Steven said.

  “You’ll need some evidence, or it will turn out like your last interaction with them,” Michael said, delivering another shock.

  “It was you,” Steven said slowly, “in my house the other night. You broke into my house?”

  “And it will be over before you get any evidence,” Michael continued, ignoring him.

  “Not if we find the bodies of those children buried in the house next door,” Steven said, trying a bluff. “The cops might be interested in digging to find out.”

  “Dig away, Steven. I told you, they were consumed,” Michael emphasized in a way that made Steven sick to his stomach.

  “What will be over?” Roy asked. “You said it would ‘be over’ before we get any evidence. What will be over?”

  “What do you think, Roy?” Michael asked calmly, smiling at Roy as though he was his long-lost grandfather.

  “The ritual,” Roy replied. “The ritual will be over.”

  “If you want to call it that,” Michael said.

  “Do you know where Lukas is at, right now?” Steven asked.

  “No. But I wish I did,” Michael said sadly. “I presume Ben buried him after he killed him. He must have buried him somewhere…but where? I suppose if you could find him, you’d have your evidence, at least of one murder.”

  “That’s the plan, isn’t it?” Roy asked. “For us to find him, and dig him up.”

  “Is that a rhetorical question?” Michael asked, smiling.

  “What is the ritual?” Steven asked.

  “Don’t you two talk?” Michael said. “Ask Roy. He already knows.”

  Steven turned to Roy, but Roy kept his gaze on Michael, and his hand on the gun in his pocket.

  “I’m guessing Lukas was short a consumptio
n or two before Ben screwed up the plan,” Roy said.

  “Only one,” Michael said, spreading his arms, still smiling. “And I’m ready and waiting. The children are concentrated in me. Once he consumes me, we’ll be eternal.”

  Steven saw Roy pull the gun out of his pocket. He was surprised to see him aim it at Michael, but in a moment it all clicked for him – Michael was the final step of the ritual. Michael was waiting to be consumed by Lukas, to finish the process. If Roy killed him, it might end the ritual before it could be completed.

  The gun clicked, misfiring. He pulled the trigger repeatedly, with the same result.

  “I’m far too big of an investment to not protect, Roy,” Michael said, lowering his arms. “Four children and fifteen patient years aren’t going to be dispensed by an old man and his thick son, regardless of how protected you are.”

  Roy lowered the gun, returned it to his pocket. For a moment they all sat looking at each other in a sort of stalemate.

  “What now?” Steven said.

  “Well, I think you and Roy should run along and figure out where Ben buried him,” Michael said. “Unless you’d like something to eat first. I have a casserole in the oven, there’s plenty for all of us.”

  “We won’t do it,” Steven said. “Lukas can rot in the ground.”

  “Then what you’ve experienced the last few days,” said Michael, leaning forward towards Steven, “will be nothing compared to what will come.” He turned to Roy. “And you know what will happen to you.”

  Steven’s defensiveness of Roy kicked into high gear at this threat, and he stood. “Come on, Dad. We’re leaving.”

  Roy stood, and so did Michael. They all went to the door.

  “Thanks for coming,” Michael said. “Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help.”

  Steven shot a glance at Roy. He looked as angry as he’d ever seen him, as though he wanted to deck Michael, but knew better. They walked out of the house without a word and to their car, hearing Michael shut the door behind them.

  -

  They returned to Roy’s house, not saying much. Roy walked down the hallway to his bedroom, and returned with a large book that he dropped on the kitchen table in front of Steven. “There,” he said, pointing to it. “The answer is in there, somewhere. Just gotta find it.”

  “Is this it?” Steven asked. “The secret book?”

  “Yup,” Roy replied. “That’s it. Secret no longer. See if you can figure it out.”

  “I wouldn’t know where to start,” Steven said. “And I’m not sure I want to.”

  Roy sat next to Steven. “Well, I’m not sure we have a choice,” he said.

  “You always say we always have a choice,” Steven responded. “We could just drop the whole thing, not play into these assholes.”

  “That’s true,” Roy replied. “In this case, I think that choice is a bad choice if I want to keep living.”

  Steven lowered his head. He thought for a moment he might cry, just lose it from all the strangeness and stress. He was just a normal guy who didn’t believe in abnormal things. Not only was his job gone, his house had indeed turned out to be unlivable. But the thing that really pushed him to the edge was his father’s life being used as ransom to locate and dig up a monster. They were being forced to play out a terrible scenario and the unfairness of it ate into him like acid.

  “Funny,” Roy said, “in most hauntings, once you solve the mystery of why the ghosts are there, the problem is solved. In this case, it just made things worse.”

  “All ghost stories are solved by finding out what is unknown, right?” Steven asked.

  “Usually,” replied Roy. “And then setting things straight.”

  “Well, what we don’t know is how to kill this fucker,” said Steven, changing his resolve. “We just have to find that out, and then kill him to set things right. That will stop the ritual, the metamorphosis. Lukas will be dead and gone, and he’ll leave you alone. That should make Ben happy, too, get him to shut up. Then I can go back home, have a decent night’s sleep, and you can return to whatever you were doing before I wrapped you up in this.”

  Roy mulled this over. “What about Michael?”

  “He’ll be inert.”

  “Well,” said Roy, “it’s all academic until we find where Lukas is buried.”

  “And,” added Steven, “we know how to kill him correctly.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Third time’s the charm, Steven thought as he pulled his car into the trailer park and wormed his way to trailer number 48. He parked and waited until 7 p.m. He had considered calling Debra, but didn’t want to reach John and get her into trouble with him for having talked to him.

  He glanced down the street towards her space and didn’t see John’s truck there. He wanted to get back to Roy as soon as possible. He decided to walk up to Debra’s now, rather than wait the additional half hour for John to leave. Besides, it looked like Debra’s husband had already gone to work.

  He walked up to the trailer door and knocked. At the same time the door opened, a man walked from around the back of the trailer. Both Debra at the door and John from the corner of the trailer said “Hello?” at the same time.

  “Uh, sorry, I thought maybe…” he said to Debra, unsure how to finish. Her face looked crestfallen. John couldn’t see her from where he stood, and she tried to get Steven to leave by silently waving her hand at the wrist, like she was shooing away a bug. She mouthed the word, “go!” Or maybe it was “no!” Steven couldn’t be sure.

  “Yes, what do you want?” John asked, stepping closer to Steven and into Debra’s view.

  Steven stared at him. I fucked up, Steven thought. He must not have a shift tonight. Where the fuck is his truck? John ran all the options through his mind as quickly as he could, and settled on honesty.

  “Steven Hall,” he said, extending his hand. “I called you several days back.”

  John stared at him blankly while shaking his hand, obviously not recalling.

  “Regarding your father.”

  John let the hand drop. “I don’t have anything to say to you. Go on, get.”

  Go on, get? Steven thought. Did he just tell me to ‘get’?

  “I don’t want to bother you,” Steven said, “trust me, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”

  “You’re already bothering me,” John said. “I told you I didn’t want to speak to you, and you come to my home anyway? Are you stalking me? Why shouldn’t I call the cops?”

  “Because my father is in trouble,” Steven said, looking at him. “Just like Ben was. The exact same thing.” He could see him soften a little, so Steven decided to pursue it and see if he could win him over. “And I’m desperate for any little thing that might help him. I would not have come here if I didn’t believe my father’s life was in jeopardy.”

  At this John seemed to soften even more. He appeared to be considering it, rather than going for his shotgun to run him off.

  “Please,” Steven pleaded. “I don’t know who else to ask.”

  Debra spoke up from the trailer doorway. “John, why don’t you give this man five minutes? His father is in trouble, and it’s the Christian thing to do.”

  John seemed to be mulling this over. Eventually he sighed and said, “All right. Five minutes. What do you want from me?”

  “Thank you,” Steven said. He then asked John some of the same questions he’d already run past Debra, but he left out their theory about Ben killing Lukas. John gave him answers similar to what he’d heard from Debra. Sooner or later he’d lose John’s patience. He was going to have to hit him with the big question he’d driven out to ask Debra in the first place, but without telling him about the shadow and the child killings. He was afraid it would come out of left field and put John off. He decided to soften him up even more first.

  “My father started assisting me a few days ago, and from how you’ve described Ben, my father is experiencing the same problems. I had to
take him to the ER the other night. I’m truly afraid for his life.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” John said. “I wouldn’t wish what happened to my dad on anyone else.”

  “This may sound like a crazy question John, but it’s really important to me figuring this thing out,” Steven said. “When Ben started to go downhill, did he ever mention a place other than his home? Did he have any property somewhere?”

  “He didn’t mention anything, but we have a family cabin south of Leavenworth,” John said. “It’s been in our family for generations. I know Ben went there a couple of times before he died. He loved it there. Why?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” Steven said. “Would you mind if I visited there? Not to stay or anything, just to check out a theory I’ve got? It might help explain what’s been happening.”

  John looked down at his feet, then over at Debra. “You going to tell me why?”

  Steven looked down, stammered. “You’d just think I’m crazy.”

  John paused. “Maybe not,” he said.

  Steven looked up at him, pleading. But he wasn’t going to tell the whole story to John. It was too much, it would just derail the goal, which was getting access to Ben’s property for another search. There would be plenty of time to tell John all about it if it panned out. But for now, he pressed his lips shut and John took the message.

  “OK,” John said. “Deb, would you get the cabin keys for him?” Debra said, “Yeah,” smiled, and left the doorway. John turned to Steven. “You got a pen? I’ll give you directions. It isn’t easy.”

  Steven whipped out his phone and opened a note. “Go ahead,” he said. John described the route Steven would need to take to find the cabin. When he was finished, he said, “You can stay out there as long as you need. This time of year none of us go out there. There’s no electricity, but there’s some lanterns if you bring oil. Heat is from a wood burning stove. No hot water unless you boil it on the stove.”

  Debra returned with the keys, and gave them to John. He handed them to Steven. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, and your dad improves,” he said. “And that you can put an end to whatever this is. I’ve never been more scared than when I was around him in those final few weeks. It got so bad Deb wouldn’t come with me to visit him. I didn’t want to go either. To tell you the truth, I felt like he was murdered. If you can figure out what did that to him, and do something about it…” he began to tear up, “…I’d be extremely grateful to you. And I know it would give him peace. So bring the keys back whenever you’re finished. You take care of yourself and your dad,” he said, averting his eyes from Steven and turning to walk back behind the trailer.