The Trilogy of the Void: The Complete Boxed Set

by Peter Meredith

  The two men finished their slide, pitching up against the far wall and instantly Will scrambled up, bringing his gun to bear. He moved to the corner where the halls joined and quick as a wink, dodged his head out and then back again. The two flashlights were still shining bright, but both, unfortunately were sending their light his way. Everything beyond them was impenetrably dark.

  "You're getting pretty quick Willy J," his sister called out from the inky black. Will took another peek, barely letting his head show; the corridor was still empty. He then whipped about to see the wide-eyed priest climbing to his feet.

  "Are you ok?" he asked the priest in a hushed tone, ignoring his sister.

  "Oh yes. Was that the demon?" the priest asked with some excitement. He attempted to look around the corner as Will had done, but the bigger, younger man held him back.

  "Shhhh," Will hushed him, pulling the man in close. "You have to get out of here. Take this hall, go down it, and keep veering to the right and..."

  "I wouldn't do that if I were you Father," Talitha called out. "You'll be going out blind in the dark and I can hunt you by sense of smell alone."

  "Can she do that?" the priest asked without a hint of nervousness.

  Will nodded, and leaned close enough to touch the Vogel's ear. "Go. Follow the corridor." The words held only the strength of a baby's breath.

  "You need me." The priest was being obstinate.

  "Oh, he needs you, Father," the girl spoke loudly. "He needs you to be a distraction to me so he can run away. Will Jern ain't no hero. Remember Father Alba? I gave Will the chance to trade places with him, but he was too much of a coward."

  Involuntarily, Will looked back at Father Vogel. The older man gave him a piercing glance that only stoked Will's guilt. "She's lying about the distraction part, Father. Only I can deal with her, I need you..."

  "You can't deal with shit, Will!" Talitha screamed at the top of her lungs. "Vogel, don't you go anywhere. I say who stays and who goes." A weird gasping noise came from her direction, which was followed by the sound of a sharp slap.

  "I'm not going anywhere, Miss Jern," the priest said loudly. His firm raspy voice sounded composed, which matched his outwardly calm demeanor. "Miss Jern? Is Officer Milner all right? Is he injured?"

  "Oh, I suppose he's ok. He just had a little trip and bashed his face in a bit. He's so clumsy." Another little cry of pain accompanied this.

  "Miss Jern..." Vogel began, but Talitha's voice stopped him cold.

  "Father, if I hear the words 'Miss Jern' one more time, Officer Milner is going to have another accident."

  "Of course," Father Vogel remained unruffled despite the threat. "What would you like to be called then?"

  "Ask Will, he knows."

  Father Vogel looked at Will. Will looked at his watch.

  Forty-four minutes until their flight was scheduled to take off. If he kept his foot stomped on the gas pedal the entire way, he could get to the airport in ten minutes. With ditching the car and running to the ticket counter; he was looking at another ten minutes. A dead sprint could get him anywhere in the airport in five minutes add another five for complications. He had no time for this.

  "I don't have time for this Tal. Why don't you tell me what you want?" He called out angrily, earning him an irate headshake from the priest.

  "Nothing other than to prove to the world what a coward you are," Talitha answered back just as furious. "Everyone just loves Will. He's so handsome and good that he's practically a saint. He stopped the demon, he saved poor little Talitha. Let's all kiss his ass and worship the ground he walks. But I know you, Will. You ain't shit! In fact..."

  Will interrupted heatedly, "Wrap it up Tal. What's your point?"

  "My point is, dear brother, you're nothing. And despite what everyone thinks, you're not even a good person. Dad died trying to save you, mom was in the hospital because of you. You killed Henny Harris and Adrina. You let Father John die and you let Father Alba have his eyes torn out. You were too chicken to look into the future at first, so we can add Terry Brabec and her family to the list of deaths that are all your fault. What else...oh yeah, does the name Jim Anderson ring a bell? That poor man is probably being tortured right this very moment all because you lacked the guts to..."

  "That's not true," Will said quietly. "I was fighting Luke."

  "The whole time? I don't think so. You told me last night that you hit him in the head with a piece of wood. Why didn't you just go kill the gypsy? Wasn't that our plan? Kill the witch as soon as possible?"

  That had been the plan. She was right. So why hadn't he followed through with it? Had he been afraid to face the Void again? Will couldn't exactly remember. His memory of those seconds was a terrible blur. He remembered the pain in his chest and the torture by Ba'al Zubel that followed, but then what? He had laid upon the black ice for a few seconds trying to breathe, trying to come to grips with just being alive and then he had heard the gunshots. They were like a needed slap, bringing him back to his horrible reality. He had struggled to his feet and the first thing he'd seen was Luke beating Jim, smashing his elbow into the big man's face repeatedly, blood was everywhere.

  "I was trying to save Jim," Will said in a whisper.

  "You were trying to save yourself!" Talitha screeched.

  Will didn't argue; he hung his head instead. In the shadows of the hallway, Father Vogel patted Will on the arm and tried to give him a warm smile. Will kept his face averted. Was Talitha correct? The absolute truth was that he didn't know. She was spot on with the notion that he was afraid of going into the Void again, but all the same he didn't know if that was the underlying reason why he had attacked Luke instead of the gypsy witch.

  After he was silent for a few seconds, Talitha continued, "There is a way to make amends you know. Officer Milner, a fine upstanding man of the law is about to go through a very heinous and long death... you could trade places with him."

  Seeming to oblige her words, a strangled cry rolled down the corridor to greet them.

  "I can't," Will said, again in a whisper.

  "What was that dear brother? We couldn't quite hear you down here."

  Father Vogel spoke up, "He said he can't, but I will trade places with..."

  "No! I want Will only," Talitha interrupted. "What's your excuse this time, Will?"

  "You know what it is. Lisa and the baby. And the sword." Will refused to even glance toward the priest. He felt small.

  "Oh sure," Talitha snorted back laughter. "What a champion you are. I can't be a hero now, but I promise I'll do it later. Sorry Milner, it looks like you're out of luck."

  "Will please!" Milner screamed out. The man's fear was a knife to Will's guts.

  "I...I can't," Will called back with a voice that cracked. He didn't have time to explain things to Milner, and even if he did, would the cop understand? Not likely.

  "You're an asshole, Will! An asshole. If..." Another slap silenced the fear driven fury of Eric Milner.

  The priest grabbed Will by the shoulders and tried to look up into his face, "You have to stop this. You have the power to end his suffering."

  "He won't do it, Father. Will's last real heroic act was rescuing me from a dog named Nancy... a scary little puppy dog. Why don't you tell everyone that story? It's another look at me, I'm Will. I'm so great story. Why did you even waste my time on that one?"

  "That story wasn't about me," Will replied in a small voice. "It was about you."

  "Then you must have told it wrong."

  Will checked his watch, he had wasted four minutes already, but this little story of Talitha when she was young was something he felt both the good and the bad side of her should know. It had nothing to do with lava-monsters or scary dogs or even bees or glass. It was the day that he, at five years old, had known that he loved his sister with a greater love than he had thought possible.

  "I didn't tell the story wrong, I was interrupted," Will began, ignoring the curious look of the priest standing next to
him. "When Nancy charged at you, I actually started to run, but at the last second I saw that you were staring at those gigantic teeth and hadn't budged an inch. Your eyes were huge, but the rest of you looked so small. Anyways, I reached out and grabbed you, and pulled you back, but you went completely mad. It was like touching someone drowning, you threw yourself on me and clambered over me in an effort to get past those teeth."

  There was silence from down the hall, but Will only paused a moment before going on, "You tackled me right there, and for a moment we were all arms and legs flying everywhere trying to escape, but eventually we managed to crawl out of the circle of death. We ran like crazy, but this time we weren't laughing. We were both crying. You were practically in hysterics over the dog and I had cut my foot on some glass.

  "This is the part that I will always remember, this the part that I wanted to tell you. Because of my cuts, I had to go to the emergency room, and when I got back, I was all mopey having to sit on the porch, unable to walk or play. So...you danced for me."

  "I didn't," Talitha said from her end of the hall.

  "Oh yeah you did. You were cute as a button and danced like a little ballerina until mom came out to applaud you. After that you became shy and then..."

  Talitha interrupted, "I stepped on a bee."

  "Yeah, you stepped on a bee. On purpose."

  "What?" she asked, skeptical.

  "You stepped on a bee so you could be with me."

  "That doesn't make any sense. I could've been with you without having to hurt myself." Her point was logical.

  "I used to think it was because you loved me so much that you wanted to feel what I felt. You used to be like that when we were young. If I was sick, an hour later you were sick, even if I was faking it to get out of going to school," Will replied. "But who knows? Maybe you were worried I was bored or lonely, either way we spent that afternoon sitting on the porch drinking that super tart lemon aide that mom used to make."

  "That stuff was crazy, I don't know if she ever put sugar in it," Talitha said. There was a momentary pause and then she added, "What are we doing here? What's... shouldn't we be going to the airport?"

  Pausing only long enough to snatch up one of the flashlights Will dashed down the hall, feeling sick with relief. He knew his Talitha was back, and he found her straddling Milner looking lost with the heavy pistol in her hands. Her face was black and fierce, but her eyes were innocent.

  "Will, we were just outside talking." She held out the gun to Will as if it could explode in her hands. "And now...what's going on with me?"

  Will pulled her off the cop and went to help the man up but Milner shoved him aside. "Don't touch me! I'm done with this, all of this. Give me those." He grabbed the guns from Will. "If I ever see the two of you again..."

  "Officer Milner, I'm sure the Cardinal is deeply in your debt," Father Vogel said in his calming manner. "I'll let him know that you have gone above and beyond."

  "You do that," Milner replied backing out of the room and he then dashed off down the hall.

  "I think he's going the wrong way," Talitha murmured. "But I don't think he'll listen to me."

  "I don't think he'll listen to any of us," Will added, checking his watch. "Thirty-seven minutes till take off; we got to go. We can talk about what's going on with you once we're on the plane. Which way is out?"

  Father Vogel took a hold of his arm and attempted to pull Will in close. "Will, your sister can't come with us. She's a danger to everyone around her. She needs psychiatric attention."

  With a twist of his large arm, Will pulled away from the smaller man. "She's coming. The only person I question about who may or may not be coming, is you." His words came out quite bit more nasty than he had intended, causing both Talitha and the priest's eyes to widen. He had trouble caring—his head had begun to thump almost as soon as the evil Talitha had departed.

  Talitha looked unsteady and a little sick beneath her black camouflage and Will grabbed her arm, steering out into the hallway. "Which way?" he asked again. She pointed back the way they had come. As they walked, he turned to the priest. "I don't mean to be rude, but I need her, I don't really need you."

  With his usual serenity Father Vogel responded, "That remains to be seen. Miss...may I call you Miss Jern?"

  "Call me Talitha, please. Take the turn to the right, Will. This is weird, I don't really remember coming down here, but at the same time I do, like I dreamed all this."

  Will's pace was frantic and in seconds, Father Vogel was panting, but still he managed to say between gasps, "Talitha, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

  A glance at his sister told Will it wasn't a good idea. Her eyes looked still wild, the whites oddly huge in the black soot. "Not here, Father. Not just now." His tone was much kinder this time.

  Chapter 11

  Will

  Will only allowed a real conversation to occur once they were safely on the plane.

  They quick marched with dogged determination through the factory losing two minutes in Will's calculations due to the slowness of Father Vogel. The man was gasping loudly at the pace, but Will pushed them on relentlessly. With his iron-grey hair and web of wrinkles around his face, Will put the older man's age at close to sixty. Yet with the safety of his family on the line Will wasn't going to miss their flight no matter what.

  He made those two minutes back up on the drive to the airport. It should have been a white-knuckled ride, only everyone was so covered in black soot that it wasn't obvious. Even if the priest wanted to ask questions, there was no way he could have as Will drove the old station wagon like it had never been driven before. Relying more on luck than on his second sight, he careened through the light traffic like a man possessed and pulled into the airport parking lot with twenty-three minutes left. A minute later, the station wagon was abandoned to its fate and they were dashing to the ticket counter.

  A thousand pairs of eyes were upon them.

  "You can't board the plane like that. They won't let you," the woman behind the counter said with an embarrassed smile.

  The three of them were a sight, with the priest being the least offensive. Talitha's borrowed black dress was in tatters, but worse was her face. The soot that she had applied had been partially smeared by the rain, making her eyes appear creepy and with her bedraggled hair, she looked ready for a starring role in a haunted house. Yet worse than her was Will.

  His blue jeans and grey hooded sweatshirt were covered in black muck, as was his hair, which went in every direction. However, it was the spectacular bruising of his face and the burning fierceness of his blue eyes that drew people's attention.

  "There's a boutique on the way to our gate," Will tried to sound smooth. "We'll stop and get a change of clothes there."

  "Ok, but you only have eighteen minutes," she gave him a smile, but it faltered when he tried to smile back. It only distorted his face more.

  "Thanks, I guess we'll have to hurry." Will knew precisely how much time they had and they were wasting precious seconds. He began drumming his fingers impatiently. The counter woman was either terribly uncomfortable with this crazed man in front of her, or finally got the hint that they were in a rush. She began typing at a blazing speed and a minute later, they were racing away with tickets in hand.

  As the least disreputable looking, Father Vogel went directly to the gate. "I'll hold the plane until you arrive."

  Will didn't bother with a smile. He was feeling far too stressed to make the attempt and every time he had tried people only looked at him as if they were about to be sick. He waved instead and sped off to a little shop that sold purses mostly, but also had a section for clothing.

  A sales lady, very tall and blonde saw them approaching through the glass and her eyes went wide at the sight. Will ignored her and strolled in, heading straight for the men's section, which consisted solely of two racks of expensive jackets. On the spot, he stripped off the grey sweatshirt and pulled on a brown leather jacket. It did little to h
elp his appearance. He also grabbed a blanket to cover his seat when he boarded. His shopping time twenty-eight seconds.

  "Will, look at these dresses," Talitha's eyes were big for the clothing. Her head wagged this way and that, surprising her brother. She had never been much for shopping. "Can we afford these?" Nothing in the store was priced below two-hundred dollars.

  "Yes, just pick something, ok."

  There was no hurrying her and Will's agitation soared to new heights. He began pacing back and forth, as Talitha went through every rack, slowly.

  "All these outfits are so dark. It's kind of depressing," Talitha said with a shake of her head. To Will, any of the clothes would be an improvement. She currently looked as if she had stepped out of a nightmare.

  The sales lady tried to be helpful, "They're dark because it's after Labor Day you know. Will you want new shoes also?" Talitha's black pumps were ugly.

  Will groaned. "Nine minutes Tal," he tapped his watch. "We don't have time for shoes."

  "Ok, ok. Can you grab me a blanket as well, please?" She went to the rear of the store. In a moment, she giggled oddly and came dashing up to him. "How about this? Can I get it, please? It's on clearance."

  It was a flowered sundress. Had she been in the least bit presentable it would have pretty on her. "Of course you can," Will answered. With a quick tug, he pulled the tag off the dress. "There's a bathroom across the concourse, you have eight minutes. Go get changed."

  She took all eight minutes. Will ignored the sale lady's explanation of how a sundress wasn't the right choice for that time of year and paid for the clothes. He then went to wait outside the bathroom. There he paced again, feeling a growing anxiety in his chest that ran down into his hands making them shake. With an effort, he tried not to think about Lisa or the baby, or whatever spell Amy had them under. All of that only made him want to throw up, so he paced.

  Talitha came out of the bathroom just as he was about to stick his head in to yell at her to get out. It took him a second to recognize her. Her skin was scrubbed clean and her tan fairly glowed, even her hair, though damp, was no longer a straggly filthy mess, and was now its usual deep brown.