The Forest of Forever (The Soren Chase Series, Book One)

by Rob Blackwell

  Annika shook her head.

  “That’s a great plan, genius,” she said. “Why don’t we split up so it can kill us both much easier? You really have never seen a Friday the 13th movie, have you?”

  “Just don’t blame me when I get you killed,” Soren replied.

  “Trust me, it’s way too late for that,” she said.

  Soren looked down at the gun.

  “Actually, you take it,” he said, handing it back to her.

  She looked at him in surprise.

  “The thing has a knack for attacking me,” Soren said. “Hopefully it will do the same thing again and you can get off a shot before it kills me.”

  “That’s awfully trusting,” Annika said. “I’m almost touched.”

  “What can I say? You’ve grown on me.”

  They ran toward the back room, where the gaunt had disappeared. Soren was careful as he ran through the door, checking the ceiling to make sure it wasn’t hiding up there. He wanted to shout for Kael to see if he was okay but didn’t dare give away his position.

  He crept through the halls, with Annika beside him. They passed the room where a moment ago Tabitha had just been talking with them. Soren checked inside but there was no sign of Kael or the gaunt. Still, there was something different about the room. He felt like something had changed inside it, but he couldn’t immediately identify what.

  There was a sudden noise up ahead, and both Soren and Annika hurried in that direction. They heard another crash to the left, and Soren opened a door to find what appeared to be a music room. It was almost pitch black, but Soren could make out a variety of instruments, including several massive drums and a piano.

  Soren reached out and flicked on the switch next to him. His eyes adjusted to the light just as he saw something out of the corner of his eye, a black shape moving at top speed. He ducked and rolled to the ground a millisecond before the gaunt would have slammed into him.

  Soren completed the roll and came up in a fighting posture. The gaunt looked poised to attack.

  “Now, Annika!” he shouted.

  The gun went off, making a loud roaring sound that echoed throughout the room, but the shot went wide. Still, the gaunt stopped just feet away from Soren. It jumped to the ceiling as Annika fired another shot.

  “Stand still, you son of a bitch,” she said.

  Soren knew what the gaunt meant to do a moment before it moved and called out a warning. But it was too quick, jumping from the ceiling to the floor and then springing directly toward Annika. She tried to bring up the gun but it was too late.

  Soren watched helplessly as the gaunt stretched out its claws and prepared to tear into Annika’s face.

  But just as the creature was about to touch her, a wooden arrow caught the gaunt in the temple, spearing it through the head and knocking it away from Annika. The gaunt staggered away and seemed to give one last look in Soren’s direction.

  Before Soren could even process what had happened, a second arrow hit the gaunt in its right eye, piercing it with a distinct popping sound. It fell to its feet and then down on its face.

  Soren looked over to see Kael Jefferson standing calmly at a second entrance to the room, holding the bow that had hung in his mom’s office. The quiver of arrows was slung around his back, and he had another arrow nocked and ready, aimed directly at the gaunt on the floor.

  In that moment Soren thought Kael looked almost exactly like his ancestors, a fierce and determined expression on his face. He knew little of archery but understood that Kael had pulled off an incredible shot.

  “Make sure it’s dead,” Kael said.

  Soren nodded and strode over to the creature. He rolled it over and noticed the way it hardly resembled Rick the security guard anymore. It no longer looked remotely human. There was no pulse to check, but Soren could see there was no life left in the thing.

  “It’s dead,” Soren said. “It’s a—”

  Kael said a word in another language that Soren didn’t recognize.

  “I know what it is,” he said. “We have an old legend about them. I used to think they were just a myth until a few years ago. But we’ve been seeing them more since then. In fact, we’ve seen a lot more of a number of things lately, creatures we thought didn’t really exist.”

  “There are more of these things out there?” Soren asked.

  “Many more,” Kael said.

  Kael hardly resembled the teenager he’d been just ten minutes ago. He looked decades older. Soren noticed the bow was still ready, the arrow nocked, as if at any moment the gaunt could spring up again.

  “Come on,” Annika said, lowering the gun and approaching Kael. “We should get you back to your mother.”

  Kael slowly lowered his bow. Soren cast another look at the dead gaunt.

  “What are we going to do about it?” he asked. “The police—”

  “The tribe will take care of it. I’ll tell my brother,” Kael replied.

  Kael closed his eyes and seemed to be fighting off tears. Soren thought he was trying to prevent himself from falling apart.

  “I need to explain all of this to him,” Kael said. “How am I going to do that?”

  Annika crossed over to him and gave him a hug, but he barely seemed to notice. The kid was clearly in shock. Annika pulled back from him and rubbed his arm. When he reopened his eyes, he seemed calmer but also more distant. There was a look of determination on his face.

  “What I want to know is why this thing was here,” he said.

  “It wanted to kill us,” Soren said. “I’m sorry. It attacked me last night, and we barely drove it off.”

  “Who sent it?” Kael asked.

  His tone was flat, and Soren had a feeling he already knew the answer.

  “The Association,” Soren said. “That thing used to be one of their security guards, the same one who grabbed us.”

  Kael nodded. He didn’t look at Soren but stared at the creature on the floor.

  “Kael,” Soren said. “They could have more of these. Probably do, in fact, if you’ve seen them during the past couple years. Don’t go out there seeking revenge.”

  Kael looked up, and Soren was again struck by how much older he seemed.

  “I have no intention of it,” he said. “You’re going to go out there, and I’m going to help you.”

  “Eventually,” Soren said. “But I still don’t think—”

  “No,” Kael said. “You don’t understand. You want to know where the gem is, right?”

  Soren looked at him warily.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “I’m going to tell you what my mom was going to say before that thing killed her,” Kael said. “And then I’m going to talk to my brother. After that we’ll have to make some choices quickly.”

  His face was grim, devoid of any emotion. Soren kept waiting for a “dude,” but it never came. He knew how fast a tragedy could change a person. He just had never watched it happen to someone else before his eyes.

  “What do you know, Kael?” Annika asked.

  “After Bennett, the gem disappeared,” Kael said. “My great-grandfather believed some white men periodically came to look for it, chasing a myth, but it was Coakley who discovered it. As far as we know, he found it accidentally. He changed after that.”

  “The gem poisoned his mind,” Soren said.

  “Very likely,” Kael said. “It consumed Jeremiah Coakley. Before that he lived an unassuming life in a small house nearby. Only his son, Edolphus, stayed with him. After he uncovered the gem, he began preaching about sin and God’s wrath. His relationship with the tribe, which had been decent, rapidly deteriorated. And he attracted followers. We don’t know where they came from. One moment he was practically alone, the next he had dozens in his congregation.”

  Annika put her hand on Kael’s shoulder.

  “You don’t need to tell us this now,” she said. “It can wait.”

  “It can’t,” Kael said. “Not anymore.”

  “Why
?” Soren asked.

  “We don’t know what happened to Coakley and his acolytes,” Kael said. “My great-grandfather believed they committed suicide, but there are other theories. Someone once claimed he cut a deal with the devil for immortality, but I don’t accept that. All we know for sure is that one day Coakley was gone, the entire village of Bethlehem abandoned. Only one person remained.”

  “Edolphus,” Soren said. “Coakley’s son.”

  Kael nodded.

  “He never told anyone what happened,” he continued. “But for the rest of his life, he stayed near the remains of Bethlehem. He opened a small school nearby and began teaching anyone who would come. He was reportedly a very intelligent man. Eventually, he fell in love and married a member of the tribe.”

  “Edolphus is your ancestor,” Soren guessed.

  “He was my great-great-great-great-great-grandfather,” Kael said. “Or perhaps there is one more ‘great’ in there; it’s hard to remember. My mother knew.”

  His voice hitched at that moment, barely noticeable, but breaking.

  “We need to attend to her,” Annika said.

  “In a moment,” Kael said. “I need to finish this and then you need to get to work. I won’t let the Association win, do you understand me?”

  “I understand you perfectly,” Soren said.

  “I don’t know all of Edolphus’s life story, particularly before he joined the tribe. But I do know he had a journal, a diary of what really happened in Bethlehem. He never spoke of it openly, but the diary was passed down to his direct descendants. If there’s a clue as to where the gem might be, it’s likely in there.”

  “Do you have it?” Soren asked, trying hard to keep the excitement out of his voice.

  “No,” Kael said. “It was lost decades ago. It was a small leather-bound book. My mom described it to my brother and me. She said she was never able to read it before it disappeared.”

  Soren tried not to let the disappointment show on his face.

  “Do you know where it last was?”

  Kael started laughing, but the sound had no humor in it.

  “I didn’t,” he said. “Until I met you guys. I never even thought about it. All I knew was that I couldn’t stay away from the forest. I didn’t get why then, but I do now. The book’s there. I saw it.”

  “Where?” Annika asked.

  “Sitting on the shelf in Randolph Chastain’s office,” Kael said.

  “That’s what you were staring at,” Soren said.

  “Yeah,” Kael said. “I didn’t notice it until he almost threw us out of there. And then I couldn’t keep my eyes off of it.”

  “There were a lot of books there,” Annika said. “How can you be sure?”

  “Just a feeling,” Kael replied. “I don’t know how to describe it, but it spoke to me. It just looked like a leather-bound book, but I swear I could read the name Edolphus Coakley on the outside.”

  “So the Association has it,” Soren said. “We’re fucked.”

  “No,” Annika said. “They’re not acting like they have the gem already. The book must not say precisely where it is.”

  “Still, it can’t be very damn helpful,” Soren said.

  “Not to them,” Annika replied. “But they aren’t us. What do you want to bet we can figure out something that they didn’t?”

  “Why do you want the gem?” Kael asked.

  “I don’t,” Soren said. “All I want is to find out what’s happening in Reapoke Forest—and end it. What I care about is stopping the Association.”

  “Then we need to get the book back,” Kael said. “If there’s even a chance my ancestor left clues as to where the gem is, we need to find them first.”

  “Kael, you’ve just—” Annika started.

  “I know what just happened!” Kael said. “You don’t need to remind me. But that’s all the more reason. The Association killed my mom. If you want this book from them, I’m going to help you take it back.”

  Soren wanted to tell him no, to assure him he could get the book without his assistance. But at this point he felt Annika and he needed all the reinforcements they could get. Soren looked at his watch.

  “It’s getting late,” he said. “Annika and I will get a hotel in Williamsburg. Give us a number where we can reach you.”

  Kael rattled off digits, which Annika put into her phone.

  “We need to do some more research on exactly what we’re dealing with,” Soren said. “This gem didn’t just show up out of nowhere. There has to be more written about it. Once we find it, we’ll come up with a plan.”

  “I have one already,” Kael responded. “I’ll need help, but after my brother and my tribe see what happened here, I’ll get it. We need to hit the Association hard and fast. It’s time for the Chickahominy to form a war party.”

  Part III

  October 1813

  My father keeps it hidden.

  I do not believe he ever intended me to know of it. But in the dark of night, as I sat at my window watching the wind blow through the trees in the forest, I saw it. It was a bright light that shone as strongly as the moon above. And it was coming from somewhere in our village.

  I left my room, wandering outside into the darkness. I was disobeying my father again, but that was no longer important. I was long past following his directives. A moment of confrontation with him would soon be at hand.

  But in that moment all I could think about was the mysterious light somewhere in Bethlehem. Once outside I could see more clearly where it originated and quickly walked to the stables. The light was so strong it illuminated the slats in the wood—and it seemed to pulse with its own strange rhythm.

  I cautiously opened the stable door and was blinded by its brilliance. I could not look directly toward it but averted my eyes, looking into the stalls instead.

  There had been no horses for some time. But we had rebuilt the stables anyway when we moved into the forest for reasons I did not understand.

  Perhaps the light was the answer. It made it hard to see. One moment it shone brilliantly and the next it was out completely. It was disorienting and I felt nauseous.

  I stumbled toward the back of the stable, closing my eyes and feeling my way forward. Even with my eyes shut, the pulse of the light washed over me.

  As I walked, I tripped on a pitchfork and nearly fell. I opened my eyes to catch myself. That’s when I noticed the man nearby kneeling before the light. I needed no more than a glance to know it was my father.

  I was barely two feet from him but he did not notice me, so absorbed was he in looking inside a box. Inside it was a jewel. I could see now that was where the light came from. I hazarded only a quick look at the gem, as if I already knew it was dangerous.

  It was large and circular, bigger than the palm of my father’s hand. I knew little about gems, but it seemed like the kind of jewel a king or queen might have. It looked carefully carved, and its exterior gleamed. There was a strange symbol etched in black on its surface. I was too far away to see it well, but it appeared to be of two snakes.

  As I watched, the jewel shifted color. One moment it was a dazzling green, then a dark red.

  The light from the gem washed over my father’s face, and I could see his expression. My father was not admiring the jewel; he was worshiping it.

  I heard him talking to it in soft undertones.

  “I understand,” he said. “I will be ready.”

  There was a pause, as if he was listening to someone speaking to him. But I heard nothing.

  “She’s in the grain shed,” he said.

  I had no idea who he was talking about.

  “No, the others won’t find her. I told them she was sacrificed. I did exactly as you instructed.”

  There was another long pause, as if my father was listening to something.

  “I told you, I can handle the boy,” he said.

  His expression altered slightly. He was still staring at the jewel with reverence, but an unpleasant l
ook crossed his face.

  “I know,” he said. “What would you have me do? He’s my son.”

  The words chilled me to the bone, and I understood that whatever happened, my father must not find me in this stable. And yet I could not leave either. I retreated into a dark corner, afraid to make a sound.

  “No,” he said again. “Please don’t ask this of me. I have followed your wishes exactly. Please spare me this. I am not Abraham. I do not have his strength.”

  I did not hear a voice from the gem he held before him, yet I knew what it must have said. God asked Abraham to sacrifice his only son, Isaac. It was a test of faith that Abraham passed. And now it appeared my father was being asked the same.

  “I know!” he shouted. “You’ve shown me. But there must be another way. Please, please, I beg you. I love him. He’s all I have left of her. I know it was a sin, but I loved her so much. And I’ve done so much good, helped free so many souls.”

  No, Father, you have not done good. You have given in to madness. But now I was beginning to understand why. Perhaps it wasn’t my father at all but this thing before him. Could that be possible? It did not seem so. And yet I could feel its power. It was not just the light it emitted, but there was a buzz in the air. I felt drawn to the jewel and had to work to keep my face fixed on my father. I would not look directly at it.

  My father looked pained now, a single tear running down his face.

  “I will do as you ask,” he said. “I am sorry for doubting you. Please forgive my transgressions.”

  His voice was soft, but I could hear the familiar hardness in it, the same tone he used when he had a particularly difficult task in front of him but would not shirk from it. It was the same voice he used before going into the forest with his congregation at night, and by now I knew what it meant—someone would be sacrificed.

  “I understand,” my father said. “I will not let him near you. The Charred Man must never be allowed to find you. He will destroy us all. I will deal with Edolphus. In your name I trust.”

  The light sparkled brilliantly, illuminating the entire barn, and then was extinguished. The darkness was complete and I could see nothing. I waited in it, afraid to move, knowing my father must still be nearby. I could hear a soft rustling sound and I recognized he must be hiding the jewel, returning it to its box and burying it in the dirt.