by Brian Hodge
Carolyn lowered the flashlight, and they heard the sound of hooves crunching through the underbrush as the animal fled into the woods. A grim smile spread across McAllister’s face. “Now, he would have made for some good eating.”
The steady rush of the wind quickly drowned the sound of the deer’s passage. But then, from somewhere behind the house, another noise rose out of the deep woods:
Click-click-clack…click-click-clack.
The hair on the back of Copeland’s neck rose. He drew his rifle to ready position and called out, “That’s it, Candle. That’s the sound of a Lumera.”
“That’s what we were hearing earlier,” McAllister said. “Only there were a lot more than that.”
“That’s why the deer are running,” Carolyn said. “Those things are in the woods.”
“And close.”
A sudden chirping sound rang out, sharp and shrill, cutting through the wind’s roar. Copeland heard a heavy scraping sound behind him, and he turned to see a soft, golden glow washing over the eaves of the front porch. A pale, moonlike disc slowly rose into view, from which a pair of glistening, sapphire-colored globes, deep within shadowed sockets, leered at him with distinct curiosity. The thing’s gaze—so alien, yet so sentient—mesmerized him, rooted him to the spot with an almost morbid fascination. In that long moment, something inside him lurched, and a dark power seemed to grip him, drawing the deepest part of himself away from his body, toward some insanely distant, lightless world teeming with unseen, eerily wailing inhabitants, who waited devotedly for his arrival.
The land of Amos Barrow’s dreams.
The shotgun’s report shattered the night air, jolting him from stasis, its vivid white flash briefly dispelling the darkness. The grinning visage exploded in a shower of luminous globules, and a long, agonized howl pierced Copeland’s already ringing eardrums. The worm-like body convulsed grotesquely, then slid from the roof and fell to the ground with a moist, heavy thud. The six-foot oblong of glowing flesh lay still, thick, amber-colored fluid oozing from the wreckage of its skull-shaped head; then, after a few seconds, it began to scoot erratically forward with the aid of its scrabbling, centipede-like legs, its one remaining jewel-like eye now locking on Copeland’s with unambiguous malevolence.
“Oh, God,” Carolyn whispered, backing away in horror. Her voice rose shrilly. “Oh, God!”
McAllister took a few steps toward it, his gun muzzle smoking, his expression more curious than shocked. The Lumera twisted so that its eye fell on its tormentor, and the barbs on its back vibrated violently, producing sharp, whirring, clicking sounds.
“So this is what Granddaddy Barrow dreamed up? Un…fucking…believable.”
“Don’t get too close. Those things can burn you somehow.”
The front door opened, and Debra stepped out, her eyes wide and focused intently on the wounded monstrosity, her rifle clutched in terror-whitened hands. At the sound of the storm door snapping shut, the ruined skull-head swiveled again, and its eye socket appeared to dilate as it caught sight of its apparent quarry. Its shattered mandible fell crookedly open, and from its gaping chasm of a mouth, a long, piercing wail issued like the cry of a wounded whippoorwill, at such intense volume that the windowpanes shivered. Copeland, McAllister, and Carolyn all stepped away, grimacing from the pain in their ears; but Debra took a few steps forward, lowered the muzzle of her rifle to the Lumera’s head, and without hesitation pulled the trigger. The blast silenced the shrieking horror forever, splashing its obscene, misshapen cranium to the four winds.
For countless seconds they stood in tableau, gazing in awe at the monstrous corpse, hardly daring to believe the thing was truly dead.
“Well, at least we know they’re mortal,” McAllister said at last. “That’s encouraging.”
Then, all around them, bursting from the darkness, a chorus of chirps, wails, and clickings, rising steadily into an inhuman aria that drowned the wind and swirled toward the stars. From somewhere to the north, another chorus responded in kind, and the unearthly voices mingled in a ghostly, melancholy dirge that was at the same time terrifying and strangely beautiful.
“That’s coming from town,” Debra said.
“My God, they must be all over the place,” Carolyn said.
“And I get the feeling they are on their way here,” Copeland said, as the sky behind the black tree line began to slowly brighten like a portentous sunrise.
McAllister threw them an astounded glance and then said. “Russ, my friend, you’ve got to get out of here. Both of you. You’ve got to get out of here now.”
Chapter 16
Sometimes his own brother scared him.
’Course he did. Levi was headstrong. He was Granddaddy’s spoiled one too, but at least they got on better than most brothers did. Had to, cause they didn’t have no one else. Levi’d been angrier than a riled lynx, though, ever since he’d caught him sleeping at Granddaddy’s feet. But a man could go only so long without rest, and Joshua had gone way past that, what with Granddaddy sleeping most all the time now, and Levi saying somebody always had to watch over him. Hell, though, it wasn’t right he was always the one to be that somebody while his brother went out rambling and courting. He could oversee things as well as Levi—like mapping where the land was changing, reporting back what came out of that hellish tower, guarding against trespassers, and all that.
Well, it wouldn’t be long, though, before he could do what he wanted to, where he wanted to, and when he wanted to. And Granddaddy’d only be sleeping when he felt like it, not cause he had to.
Yeah, them Lumeras scared him a little, but Granddaddy had said all was well—that them ones were their friends, their “new neighbors.” Well, that was all right; everything ugly didn’t have to be awful. Hell, look at him. He didn’t have no illusions. And Levi wasn’t no picture of splendor, but he was well on his way to claiming old Major Martin’s little girl as his own. Now that was something to carry on about.
Debra Harrington would for damn sure make a better woman for his brother than Malachi’s old mom. Dottie had seemed all right at first, but she’d tried to change the whole family, to get them “right” with her God, as she liked to say, and—worst of all—to turn Malachi into something he wasn’t. Not a real Barrow, but one of her people. Like “her people” weren’t the ones who pretended to be meek and proper and God-fearing, but who savored putting the knife into anyone different than they were, and sometimes into each other. Levi would never abide that; he was a Barrow, and a Barrow didn’t pretend to be nothing other than what he was. The family did what they had to do to make a place for themselves and keep the rest of the screaming herd out of their business.
Like what Granddaddy was doing now: making a brand new place in the world, strange to the eye, maybe, but one where they were the ones that counted—where nobody’d ever look down on them again. Martin’s girl was smart as a whip, that was for sure, so she’d know better than to make trouble for them; once everything was going the family’s way, she’d fall right into line. Not to say it wouldn’t take a few whippings, and making sure her old man couldn’t get to her to mess up her mind—and getting rid of that new fellow that’d been with her. But all that would soon be took care of. The fear was already taking hold of the herd, and death was taking anybody that Granddaddy wanted gone. Like poor old Mr. Mike. Kinda sad about Mr. Mike, cause he’d always been decent enough with them. But when Granddaddy pronounced it his time, it was cause Mr. Mike’s heart had turned too far from his kin to ever come back.
He’d let the herd’s law get too deep inside him.
Joshua found himself wishing Levi wouldn’t stay gone so long. That little girl couldn’t go but so far, and they’d catch her soon enough. Despite his family’s good relationship with their new neighbors, Joshua didn’t feel all that comfortable being so close to any of them.
The Lumera lay in a dimly glowing coil near Granddaddy’s feet, the little blue specks in its deep eyeholes following Joshua’s ev
ery move. Its cold gaze set his nerves on edge, even though it didn’t have license to do anything to him. If something went wrong, all Granddaddy had to do was wake up and wish it away, and it’d be gone, just like that. That wouldn’t work much longer, though, so they’d told him, and he wondered what Granddaddy had in mind to do when he couldn’t get rid of them so easily.
“You needn’t worry about such things,” the voice in his head said. “You are our hosts, and we are in your debt.”
It wasn’t really a voice. It was more like thinking—where he didn’t hear the words but knew what his brain was telling him. Them ones talked that way. Best he could tell, Lumeras didn’t really read minds, but they could pick up impressions, the way a hound could smell fear on a person.
“Sorry, sorry,” he said. “I reckon y’all understand that it feels funny bein’ trustin’ to somebody so different and all. Ain’t much used to that.”
“We understand,” the Lumera told him. “Your grandfather explains your world to us very well. He is kind and patient with us, and we are pleased to have made his acquaintance. He loves you, so we do as well.”
“Y’all know about love and feelings and such?”
“Our feelings are not so different than yours. At first, we were surprised that the long-sealed door to your world had opened again, and so we, too, were distrusting. But your grandfather came and explored our world, and proved himself a friend to us. Not all who have come have been so amiable.”
“Y’all know people like us?”
“Over the ages, others of your kind have come to us—in what you call dreams. Long ago, certain of them came exploring, and we gave them a means to cross between worlds as they desired. However, unlike your grandfather, they were not truly friends of ours. Thus, we sealed the door, to keep your kind away. Now the door has reopened, and your grandfather has made us understand that some, such as your family, are unlike the multitudes of evil ones who dominate your world. We have decided to offer him—and you—a place such as ours, but upon your own land. It is our gift.”
“I reckon that’s kind of you.”
“For granting us an outpost such as this, it is just.”
“Granddaddy says that, to us, y’all are a dream, and we’re like a dream to y’all. His gem there makes it so that y’all ain’t just a dream anymore.”
“That is a concise explanation.”
Joshua glanced at his granddaddy, who looked too much like a dead man laid back in his big easy chair but for his chest heaving slowly up and down. His hands lay folded in his lap, his fingers closed around the gleaming, sapphire-like jewel he called the Zeus Jon Mott, or something such. Every now and then, the egg-shaped stone grew bright, and Granddaddy would shift a little in his chair, his brow arching down over his clenched eyes. He hadn’t woke up now since he’d sent Mr. Mike away, and his color wasn’t looking so good. The brighter that rock got, the paler the old man got—almost like it was taking something out of him.
That jewel was burning like an electric bulb now, causing Granddaddy’s hands to glow warm orange. Behind the Lumera, the tangle of barbed cords that covered the walls like wild, twisted vines began to rustle and writhe. They had appeared as if by magic earlier in the evening, and Levi had told him they would help him guard against intruders. But they worried him, too, cause as far as he was concerned, they looked too damn nasty to be inside his own house.
The downstairs door slammed, and he felt a little measure of relief mixed with a new anxiety. Levi was home at last.
“Thanks for telling me what you told me,” Joshua said to the cold blue eyes in their dark cavities. “I reckon my brother’s come back.”
“We will have more opportunities to converse in the future.”
“Yeah…okay.”
The Lumera’s body stopped glowing and became an ugly slab of gray, wormlike flesh. Joshua heard Levi’s distinctive, heavy tread on the stairs, and a moment later, he appeared in the door.
“Granddaddy doin’ all right?”
“He just sleepin’, like always.”
“Ain’t nobody come to the house, have they?”
“Hell no, ain’t nobody come to the house. Why you think that?”
“I ain’t thinkin’ it,” He said, without further comment, but gave Joshua a blistering glance. Then he leaned down to study Granddaddy’s closed eyes. “He ain’t come out of it, has he?”
“Naw, not at all.”
Levi glared at his brother. “I want that girl, bro. And I want her tonight.”
“I figured that.”
“Hey. You’d like to get out of here, wouldn’t you?”
“Well, yeah…”
“Awright. I guess we gonna leave Malachi with Granddaddy and you gonna come with me.”
Joshua dropped his jaw. “You gonna trust Malachi by hisself with Granddaddy…and them ones?”
“For what we gonna do, I need you more’n Malachi. And Granddaddy…he been doin’ okay all this time, ain’t he?”
“Well, yeah, if just sleepin’s okay.”
Levi leaned close to him. “I’m going for Debra Harrington, and I’m aiming to fix that man with her. I ain’t leaving him for them ones. It’s you and me for him. All right?”
He nodded, his pulse beginning to pick up. “Hell yeah, that’s all right. How you gonna find them?”
“You know how them ones kinda talk in your head, right?”
“Sorta.”
“They gonna lead me exactly where I want to go. I been makin’ some arrangements.”
“Okay, then.”
Levi went out the door, and returned a minute or so later with Malachi in tow. The boy looked curiously at the Lumera and then said to Joshua, “That one done growed some, ain’t it?”
He glanced at the creature and realized Malachi was right. “Yeah, yeah, kinda looks like it, don’t it? Hadn’t rightly noticed it before.”
“Malachi,” Levi said. “I’m gonna leave you in charge for while. Whatcha think?”
“Alone?”
“You and Granddaddy.” He swung his head toward the Lumera. “And that one. You gonna have your shotgun, but you don’t have to worry about nobody getting in here. Them vine-things’ll rip apart anyone comes in here that ain’t s’posed to, I guarantee you that.”
Malachi looked nervously at the coiled things creeping like deadly ivy upon the wall. “I don’t much like them yonder. How do I know they ain’t gonna mistake me for a stranger or something?”
“Don’t be stupid. You know them ones ain’t gonna hurt any of us, right? Granddaddy says so.”
“I reckon,” Malachi said, glancing again at the dull, dead-looking Lumera. “That thing asleep or something?”
“Dunno, but don’t you worry none. Get the shotgun and sit up here with your Granddaddy. We’ll be back after while. And be ready to have some company. You gonna like ’em.”
Malachi nodded. “Awright.”
As they turned to leave the room, Levi took hold of Joshua’s shoulder and said softly, “Take your knife. You may get to do some carving tonight.”
Joshua felt his fingers tingling, the way they did when he anticipated getting to thin the herd. “You gonna let me do it, aren’t ya?”
Levi looked at him and grinned. “I’m gonna let you do it all you want to, bro. I’ll be havin’ plenty else to take care of. Plenty else, yes sir.”
Chapter 17
“You know where the place is, don’t you, Debra?” Carolyn asked.
“Yes,” she said with a nod, “as long as we can still get there by road.”
The McAllisters had all but dragged Copeland and Debra to their SUV with instructions to seek sanctuary in Carolyn’s late parents’ mountain cabin. “If there’s anyplace they won’t find you, that’s it,” McAllister told them. “It’s been empty for a couple of years now. You get your asses up there, in our vehicle, and maybe there’s a chance you’ll get past them. We’ll load up all the supplies we can in my truck and meet you there. But you get going. G
o now.”
At the best of times, Copeland hated being a passenger, but he reluctantly yielded the keys to Debra, since she knew the treacherous mountain roads far better than he. Besides, if—God forbid—the Lumeras attacked them on the road, he preferred to be able to wield his heavier firepower against them. In addition to the rifles they already carried, McAllister had given them both handguns with plenty of ammunition; a Ruger 9mm for him and Smith & Wesson snub-nose .38 for her. He doubted the smaller arms would so much as dent a Lumera, but they would make a meaningful impact on any human assailant.
He could not forget, though, that the Lumeras might have subtracted the Barrows from the equation by now. That possibility worried him perhaps more than the alternative.
He gave McAllister a long look as he settled into the passenger seat of the Durango. “I don’t like this, Candle. If they come in numbers, you won’t stand a chance of getting away alive.”
“There’s nothing up at the cabin to speak of. No food, no firewood, no power. The water’s turned off, but you can turn it on at the back of the house. We’ll bring everything we can manage in the truck. It’ll be enough for us to hang on for a while. But you need to get this head start. You stay here, and I wager we’ll all end up dead.”
“Hurry yourself,” Debra said to him. “If they converge here…I can’t stand to think about what will happen.”
“Don’t you worry about us. Just go. Go!”
Debra started the engine, threw the vehicle into reverse, and pulled into the yard to go around her father’s car. McAllister waved after them, calling, “We’ll be up there in a little while. We’ll see you.”
Copeland waved back, but his entire body throbbed with the dark certainty that he would never see his old friend again. “Where the hell are we going now?” he asked, as Debra turned the Durango onto the road, heading north.
“About five miles up the road. Before they died, Carolyn’s mom and dad lived at the top of Mount Hemlock. It’s just a little place, and there aren’t any close neighbors. I guess you’d say it’s pretty well concealed—for whatever that’s worth.”