Deliver Us From Darkness

by W. Franklin Lattimore

  Ahead of them the sound of a vehicle coming up the road caused everyone to stop and watch as it approached. It turned out to be a ranger vehicle, a Jeep Cherokee with a light bar on top. The group moved to the right of the approaching ranger and flagged him down to a stop.

  The ranger, a man, probably in his mid-forties held his radio’s mic to his mouth as he looked out the window at the group. “Dispatch show me 85 on Forest Road 2, approximately one mile West of McBride and Forest Road 13.”

  “10-4. Showing you 85.”

  “10-12.”

  The ranger stepped out of the Jeep, his badge and leather utility belt shining in the sunlight. He looked impressive in his starched beige shirt and sharply-creased green pants. His dark-complected face displayed a look of professionalism and confidence as he placed his forest-green ‘Smokey the Bear’ hat on his head. He was a tall man with an impressive build.

  He spoke. “I’m Ranger Nathan Swope. Is everything okay here?”

  “Yes, sir,” Eric replied. “Well, at least it is now.”

  “What can I help you with?”

  “We had an encounter with a wild boar several miles back. You found us making our way back to the park office to report it.”

  “Everyone’s okay?” The ranger scanned the faces of everyone in the group.

  “Yes, sir,” said Brent. “It’s not something we want to do again, but we came out of it all right.”

  Ranger Swope opened one of his shirt pockets and pulled out a small note pad and pen. “Tell me about the boar.”

  “It was massive,” responded Marta. Tara and Karen nodded in agreement.

  Brent nodded his affirmation. “It was probably about five-feet long, and, I don’t know … over three-hundred pounds?”

  “That’s a pretty remarkable description. You sure it was that big?”

  This time the men of the group all nodded.

  “I’m pretty sure it was a male. The tusks had to be around five-inches long.”

  “Where did the encounter take place? What were the circumstances?”

  Brent pointed back to where they had entered Forest Road 2. “If you turn left off the road onto the trail there’s a ridge that slopes down to the…” He thought for a moment. “… down to the right if you’re headed away from here.”

  “I know the place.”

  Brent continued. “It was apparently rooting when we came across it. We startled it. While it focused on me we got the girls out of harm’s way, then it charged me. My two best friends…” Brent smiled at Terry and Eric. “… had pulled their machetes and started running down the path toward me, yelling at the thing. I pulled my machete out, as well. The boar came to a stop and stared at us as we backed our way out of its territory. That’s when we realized that our backpacking trip had just come to an end.”

  “Okay. Well, I don’t doubt your story. It’s rare, though, to have a wild boar sighting here. Its size though …”

  “I got a picture,” Tara said abruptly.

  Ranger Swope looked at her. “Pardon me?”

  “I took a picture of it.”

  “Miss, if you’ve got a picture, then we need to see what we’re dealing with.”

  Tara drew the camera out of her thigh pocket. Walking over to the ranger she extended her arm to hand it to him. “Here you go.”

  Ranger Swope accepted the camera and then said to the group, “Bear with me for a moment.” He stepped back to the cab of his Jeep, opened the door and sat inside. Taking the radio he said, “Base, we have a 10-11 about one mile North of NF-2 on the South loop. The report is a wild boar. Male. Five feet long. 300 pounds. Five-inch tusks. The animal has shown aggressive behavior. No injuries reported. 10-78 to incident area.”

  “10-4, Unit Three. 10-11 One mile North of NF-2. Wild boar sighting. 10-78.”

  Ranger Swope exited the vehicle once again and stepped up to Tara. “Ma’am, if I have your permission to develop the photograph on this camera I will provide you with a claim receipt for the developed film. If you have any other photographs on the film you’ll need to let me know now as to whether you want them developed as well. Otherwise we’ll only develop the last image on the film. However, that would ruin the other shots.”

  “If you’d develop all of the pictures, I’d appreciate it. There’s nothing on the film that can’t be viewed by everybody.”

  After writing Tara a claim receipt he rewound the film and removed it. After handing her the camera he said, “You can pick the pictures up at the park office when you get back there with the receipt. Thank you for the picture. It’ll help us with our search.”

  Tara smiled at the officer as she took her camera back.

  “As for this being the end of your backpacking trip… Folks, the chance of you having a second encounter with another boar is so slim as to be considered nearly impossible. Have a good remainder of your trip out here. Just head back down the road and hang a right back onto the trail. Oh, and by the way, you would have had a heck of a time finding the office using this road. I’m glad I happened across you when I did.”

  The group voiced their appreciation and said goodbye as the ranger reentered his vehicle. After starting the engine he looked at them one last time and said, “Men, good job protecting the ladies and each other. Well done.”

  With those affirming words, Brent felt like he could take on the world. Looking at Terry and Eric he could tell they felt the same way.

  Brent looked at his fellow trailblazers and asked, “Do we go on?”

  Marta looked at Brent for a moment then to everyone else and said, “Let’s do it.”

  That was apparently all that was needed to get the lot of them back in gear. They still had nearly three days of adventure ahead of them.

  3:36 P.M.

  THE RING OF the phone startled Stephanie as she sat reading the latest in her string of Stephen King novels. Setting the book aside she got up from her couch and walked to the living-room telephone.

  “Hello?”

  “Aileen, it’s Brendan. I’ve just received a call from Cowan.”

  “From Scotland?”

  “Yes. He and his sister are still there.”

  David McNeill—aka Cowan Cormack—and his twin sister, Donna, were on a trip to explore and sightsee throughout the British Isles. David was using this trip to test the waters with his sister to find out if she could be lured into their numbers through the subtle means of “discovering” their family lineage.

  Three months prior David had called Brendan to announce that his sister was overjoyed at the suggestion of taking the trip and fingering through historical records to discover their family roots. Of course, David already knew where to look and he knew what they would find.

  The question was whether she would be properly romantic-cized by family legends and historical proofs that they came from royal Picti blood. Would she, like her brother, have the courage to venture beyond the facts of who the family once was to pursue who the family could be again? Stephanie figured she was about to find out the answer.

  “And…?”

  “I’m told that it doesn’t look good. As much as she’s loving the history and how ‘tickled’ she was at discovering her Picti past, she’s not showing the least bit of interest in being a part of something greater than her current, rather pathetic, station in life.”

  Stephanie was perturbed by the news. “And that’s it? She knows who she really is, a Picti princess, and wants nothing more. That is pathetic.”

  “Indeed. However, there is some potential good news on that front. In the midst of the search, Cowan discovered in the same town in which they skimmed through their family records, another family who is also linked to us through blood. If this is true, and if he can make headway with one or more of them, then we may have another long-desired link to the old country. It’s too early to tell, obviously, but to have someone who can do further research for us in our native land…”

  “Priceless,” intoned Stephanie.

&n
bsp; “Priceless. Cowan and his sister will be in the town for another couple of days to ‘take in the sights, sounds, and the people.’ He believes that the interaction that he will have with this family will appear pretty natural.”

  “With a true link back to the old country, will that mean a move for us?”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, my dear Aileen. Even if we have a couple—or a few—added to our numbers from the areas around Pictland, we’ve got several more here in the States. The wealth and support that we need is here, as well. Remember, though, it’s not all about our little coven here in Pittston, Ohio. It’s about the bigger picture. We’ll just have to see how things play out.”

  There was silence on the phone for the space of about ten seconds and Stephanie was about to ask if Brendan was still there when he inquired, “Are you not going to ask of me another question, Aileen?”

  Stephanie thought for a moment, coming up blank. Then it hit her. “The stone!” she exclaimed. “What of the stone? Is it the one at Tarbat?” Her heart began to beat rapidly.

  Silence.

  “Say it, Brendan! Out with it!”

  Brendan laughed and obliged her. “Yes, my dear Aileen! The Key Stone is found! At least parts of it.”

  Stephanie’s excitement began to wane as quickly as it had spiked. “Parts of it?”

  “One piece was exactly where we were told, in the old Pictish village of Portmahomack on the Tarbat Peninsula. It is in the Tarbat Old Parish Church, set in a wall of the crypt, carelessly used as a piece of masonry. But it is there. Cowan asked of the rest of the stone, and the caretaker of the church took him to go look at another, similar stone, also used in a wall that circles a garden at the church manse—house. Cowan says it looks to be of the same piece of stone as the one in the crypt.”

  “But the markings, they are supposed to be on both sides of the stone.”

  “That, my dear, is the problem. Getting those stones pulled from those walls will be next to impossible.”

  “How many other pieces?”

  “Cowan said he didn’t know. He asked of the villagers the whereabouts of other pieces and no one knows a thing. But Cowan said that that the piece in the crypt is obviously a top section, while the one in the garden wall is from the bottom. But, there are probably five or six more pieces to be found. Unfortunately, Cowan doesn’t have time to return to Tarbat to do more searching. He’s got to bring his sister back to the States.”

  Stephanie sighed, maybe a bit too loudly.

  “Dear Aileen, fear not. We know where the whole stone was, we know where two pieces are, and most importantly, we already know the location of the Key of Bridei that fits into the Key Stone. Once the remaining pieces of the stone are found—and they will be found—we will have our path of discovery before us. Be excited, my lovely priestess. The Redeeming Age is nearer than we thought only yesterday.”

  Stephanie’s mood lightened. “You’re right, Brendan. Thank you for the call. Things seem to be progressing just as you had said.”

  “Never doubt me, Aileen.”

  “Never.”

  “Come to the farmhouse tonight. I’m calling upon the others, as well. We will ask the spirits to advance the work that Cowan has started.”

  “I will be there, my priest.”

  Brent mused.

  The previous day and a half on the trail went off without a hitch. No other boars, no seductive moves by Tara, and no high tension. Last night had turned into an enjoyable evening around the fire at campsite five, basking in friendship and laughter. Today’s hike had started off a little later in the morning than expected, but it was nice to not feel rushed. Besides, they needed all the energy they could gather for the day’s trek.

  The decision to bypass campsite six had been an easy one, as there were no “facilities” and no place to get water. They did their best to make the water that they carried last. Fortunately, the day was a few degrees cooler than the previous days had been.

  It was now dusk, and when Brent and the others reached the camping area, they were exhausted. The additional miles of hiking had taken a higher toll than they’d experienced to this point. But they were all in good spirits as they raised camp.

  As Eric and Terry set up one of the tents, Brent and Marta set up the other. Karen and Tara had gone to set up their make-shift shower and fill up the water containers.

  “I’m so glad that today is drawing to a close,” offered Marta, tapping in one of the tent spikes. “It’ll be good to just sit around the fire tonight and relax.”

  Brent grunted in agreement. But he was only half listening as he pondered about Tara. She may not have made a move the previous evening or this morning, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try again.

  What is she up to? Does she really care for me or am I some sort of game for her? And why does she have to be so alluring? I can hardly take my eyes off of her. He tapped in the last of his spikes and stood up, stretching his back.

  “… who is distracted.”

  Brent caught the tail end of something Marta was saying.

  “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  “Brent, is everything okay?” She eyed him for a moment. “I said that you have the appearance of someone who is distracted. What’s up?”

  Brent made a show of rubbing his eyes and stretched again, adding a nice big yawn to the mix. “I’m sorry, Marta. Just tired and a bit sore.” He looked over at her as she crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. Hmm… She didn’t buy that.

  “Okay, yes… I’ve got some things on my mind.”

  “Tara?”

  “Yes. Tara.”

  “Okay, talk to me.”

  Brent wasn’t going to get into the details of the shower incident, but he did appreciate the opportunity to at least talk about some of his concerns. “She’s just…” He sighed. “Do you get the impression at all that she’s deliberately trying to make this a difficult experience?”

  “As in this trip?” she asked.

  Brent nodded. Sure, why not?

  “I don’t know about that. But she is still being very stubborn about the idea of God.”

  “Do you think it’s that she doesn’t believe? Or do you think she’s putting up some sort of front because she doesn’t want to believe?”

  “Maybe she believes, but doesn’t want to know him,” Marta remarked.

  That caught Brent. “You think that?”

  Marta thought about it for a moment. “I’m beginning to think so. We’ve known her now for, what, almost a month and a half?”

  Brent nodded.

  “You’d think that if she was even slightly caving to the idea of getting to know God, we’d have seen some hint of that.”

  Brent was forced to concede. “She doesn’t want to talk about him. She doesn’t want to participate in anything remotely Christian that we do.” Brent looked off into the distance where Tara had gone for the water. “What gives?”

  Marta shook her head. “Why would she want to be here with us for four straight days? I mean, other than the obvious.”

  Brent cringed. “Which is?”

  “Someone here has got her attention.”

  “Who?” asked Brent, hoping that the obvious wasn’t really that obvious.

  “Terry.”

  A look of disbelief punctuated his eyes and mouth. “What?”

  She smirked. “Brent, really… you can’t possibly think I’m serious.” There was a twinkle in her eye. “She likes you!”

  Brent didn’t know how to mentally regain purchase on this shifting ground. So he blurted out the first response he could muster. “She said that?”

  Marta momentarily closed her eyes and shook her head in exasperation. “Sometimes, Brent, you men can be so thick. No, she didn’t say that! I said that. And I said it because it’s so obvious. The woman stares at you continually. There is something about you that she’s intrigued with. Maybe she’s just drawn to those ruggedly strong arms of yours or your handsome scruffy f
ace.” She smiled and batted her eyes.

  Brent was dumbfounded. He had no idea how to respond. He just stood there blinking his eyes with a look of bewilderment. He didn’t know if he was more surprised about Marta’s revelation about Tara or her remarks about him.

  Rugged? Handsome?

  He finally offered, “Am I really that out of touch?” He hoped that she thought he was remarking about Tara.

  Marta smiled. “The clueless look on your face is priceless.”

  “I uhh…” Brent closed his mouth, sighed, and walked over to the other guys. He could hear Marta’s lilting laughter as he walked away. “Women,” he said under his breath.

  9:12 P.M.

  “WILL YOU HAND me the twine?”

  Tara picked it up out of the small duffel that they used to carry the components of the shower and walked it over to Karen.

  “Thank you.”

  While Karen returned to hanging the shower curtains, Tara contemplated how to broach a subject that she knew would ultimately end in her being proselytized again. She had to admit, though, that this bunch hadn’t been nearly as preachy as she had expected. Not everything was God all the time. In fact, not once had anyone asked her about her obvious lack of a “relationship” with their God. For the most part she was allowed to simply be who she was. Be that as it may, she was curious about this Christian’s religious experiences.

  “So, why did you become one?” asked Tara. She knew she should have prefaced the question, making her allusion clear.

  Karen didn’t even look back to Tara. It was as if she had known the question was coming. “For the same reason that you’re avoiding becoming one.”

  Suspicious and a little alarmed at the reply, Tara responded, “And that is?”

  “Control.”

  Karen didn’t say anything beyond that, and Tara knew that she was intentionally letting the word lay there, out in the open. She finished with the second of the three curtains and walked over to a sapling to begin putting up the last.