A Gathering of Crows

by Brian Keene

  “How is that any different from what you and I do?” Myrtle asked.

  Levi hesitated. He wanted to tell her that there was a world of difference between what he did and her crystal-gazing, pseudo-New Age nonsense, but this was neither the time or the place. Instead, he simply smiled as politely as he could and continued.

  “It’s not any different, except that these men were amateurs. They didn’t understand the forces they were dealing with, nor how to bend them to their will. In the end, they didn’t even invoke the right entity. Instead of summoning a nature spirit or something helpful, they accidentally began worshipping something else, and eventually, they brought that something else into our world.”

  “A demon,” Donny guessed. “Meeble.”

  “It was indeed Meeble, but Meeble is not a demon. He’s something different. And here is where things might get difficult for you to believe—especially for you, Esther. All I can say is that I believe them with the utmost sincerity.”

  Randy laughed. “Shit, dude. I saw what these fuckers could do with my own eyes. I’ll believe pretty much anything at this point.”

  Donny and Marsha nodded. Esther scowled. Myrtle leaned forward, staring at him with rapt attention.

  Levi took a deep breath and exhaled. “Much of what we think we know about the history of our planet and the development of the human race is wrong. Our history books and oral traditions are full of inaccuracies. This is especially true of our religious texts. The primary doctrines of Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, Jainism, Hinduism, Shinto, Satanism, Wicca and all of the others have been tampered with and rewritten by mankind so much over the years that none of them reflect the original works. Instead, they are filled with inaccuracies and falsehoods. It takes many years of study and searching to learn the real truths. You might believe, for example, that the Bible is the inspired word of God, but it isn’t. You’ve been taught to believe that it is, but what you believe is a lie. The Bible is not God’s word. Neither is the Koran or the Torah or any of the other holy books.”

  “Then whose word is it?” Esther challenged.

  “They are the words of men, edited, parceled, snipped and changed countless times to reflect the will of the men in charge, rather than God’s will. If you truly want to know God’s word and seek His will, then you’ve got to look beyond the Bible, because the book we’ve been taught to call the Bible is not the complete text. Do you know how many books and scrolls and interpretations were excised over the years? Hundreds. It’s not the inspired word of God. It is composed only of the books men decided should be in it. It doesn’t give us the complete picture. For that, you have to turn to other texts. Perhaps they aren’t in the canon, but they were written at the same time and they are just as valid. Those texts give us a true understanding of God. For example, the Bible we all grew up reading tells how God created the universe, but it says nothing about the universe that existed before ours, or about the enemy that came from that other universe.”

  “You mean Satan?” Myrtle asked.

  Levi shook his head. “No, I mean the Thirteen. In the beginning, the entity we know as God or Yahweh or Allah, or hundreds of other names, created the heavens and the Earth. That much is in the Bible. What the Bible doesn’t tell us is that in order to create this new universe, He needed a lot of energy. So God destroyed the universe that existed before ours. He reduced it down to the very last atom and utilized the harvested energies as building blocks to create our universe. The old universe ceased to exist and ours was born. However, in addition to God, there were thirteen other denizens of that previous universe who somehow escaped the destruction. Nobody knows how. Suffice it to say, when our new universe sprang forth, they were still here, and they were enraged by what had happened. These entities are collectively known to us as the Thirteen, and they’ve been the enemies of God and all of His creations— human and otherwise—ever since. They’ve sworn to destroy anything created by God. After all, He destroyed their universe. Perhaps they merely seek revenge, or maybe they plan to build a universe of their own—a third universe, in which they are the ones in charge. Whatever the case, they are not gods or demons, though they’ve often been mistaken for such. They are not susceptible to all of the same magicks, workings and laws that govern, banish or bind demons, angels and other supernatural entities. Very specific—and dangerous—magic must be used when confronting them. That magic is known only to a few, of which I am one.”

  “And this Meeble dude is one of the Thirteen,” Randy said. “Right?”

  “Exactly!” Levi couldn’t hide his enthusiasm. His impressions about the boy, founded when he first saw Randy’s aura, had been correct. Despite having no teaching, or indeed, any inkling of his gifts, the boy was attuned.

  Randy grinned, clearly pleased with himself despite the evening’s grim events.

  “Meeble is indeed one of the Thirteen,” Levi continued. “He is not as calculating as Ob, the Obot, who commands the Siqqusim, nor is he as big as Leviathan, Lord of the Great Deep, or as powerful as He Who Shall Not Be Named, but Meeble is just as dangerous, cruel and committed to our eradication as any of them. His physical form is bestial. He appears as a hulking, white-furred cross between a cat and an ape and stands almost sixteen feet tall, according to those few who have seen him and lived to tell about their encounter. While the rest of the Thirteen seem to focus their destructive energies on a global scale, Meeble seems to delight instead on destroying humanity one town at a time. That’s what happened at Roanoke. And until tonight, I and many others like me assumed that’s what was happening in many of the cases where entire populations seemingly vanished overnight—ghost towns out west and such. Now, I’m not so sure.”

  “But I thought you said Meeble was behind this?” Marsha clenched the sofa cushion tightly with both hands. “Now you’re saying he might not be?”

  “Perhaps not directly. This is still all just a theory. There’s one more piece of the puzzle to put into place.” He stood up and placed his hat back on his head. “And so, I’ve got to go back out for a little while.”

  “Like hell,” Donny said, jumping to his feet. “If you’re going back out there, then I’m going with you.”

  Marsha reached up and grabbed Donny’s arm.

  “Oh no you’re not.”

  Donny pulled away. His eyes remained focused on Levi. “Seriously. You can’t face those fuckers by yourself.”

  “I’m not. God is on my side.”

  “You just got done telling us that God blew up an entire universe of people to make this one instead.”

  “Indeed. Can you think of a more powerful ally to have standing with you?”

  “Even so, I’m coming along.”

  Marsha protested again, and the others all began to talk at once. Levi whistled, getting their attention.

  “It’s not open for debate, Donny. I appreciate your offer. I really do. But somebody needs to stay behind and watch over the others. Randy is still weak, and—”

  “I am not.” Randy swayed as he tried to stand.

  “Look, I’m fine.”

  Myrtle wagged a finger at Levi. “That’s a very sexist thing to say.”

  “I’ll have you know,” said Esther, slowly rising to her feet, “that I knew how to shoot a rifle before I learned to read. I used to go hunting with my father all the time, Mr. Stoltzfus. That was how things used to be in these parts. I reckon I’m capable of defending myself. Myrtle and Marsha, too.”

  “You people seem to think I’m making a request. I’m not. This is an order.”

  “I’m not in the army anymore,” Donny said. “And I don’t take orders.”

  “No?” Levi glanced at Marsha and then back to him. “Would you like to know what I think, Donny? I think you’re afraid to be left alone with Marsha. I think there’s something unsaid between the two of you, and whatever it is, it scares you to death.”

  Donny opened his mouth to respond, but said nothing. He stared at Levi. The tips of his e
ars turned red.

  “I want all of you to remain here. Remember, as long as you stay inside the house and don’t try to leave, you’ll be safe. You have my word on that.”

  Before any of them could argue anymore, Levi turned and hurried into the foyer. Sensing nothing outside, he opened the door, stepped outside onto the porch and closed the door behind him. The coast was clear. He whispered a fervent prayer, reciting from memory a benediction against enemies, sickness and misfortune that his father had taught him long ago.

  “The blessing that came from Heaven, from God the Father, when the true living Son was born, be with me at all times. The holy cross of God, on which He suffered His bitter torments, bless me today and forever. The three holy nails which were driven through the holy hands and feet of Jesus Christ, bless me today and forever. The spear by which His holy side was pierced and opened, protect me now, today and forever. May the blood of Christ and the Holy Spirit protect me from my enemies, and from everything which might be injurious to my body and my soul. Bless me, oh you five holy wounds, in order that all my enemies may be driven before me and bound and banished. All those who hate you must be silent before me, and they may not inflict the least injury upon me, or my house or my premises. And likewise, all those who intend attacking and wounding me either spiritually or physically shall be defenseless, weak and conquered. The cross of Christ be with me. The cross of Christ overcomes all water and every fire. The cross of Christ overcomes all weapons. The cross of Christ is a perfect sign and blessing to my soul. Now I pray that the holy corpse of Christ bless me against all evil things, words, and works.”

  When he was finished, Levi made the sign of the cross four times, to the north, south, east and west.

  “Guide my hand. Your will be done, as always.”

  He took a deep breath and stepped off the porch.

  He felt naked and exposed. The prayer was the last of his powwow. From this point on, to defeat his enemy, he’d have to rely on methods and benedictions that were far older and far less holy than the one he’d just used.

  ***

  Marsha slowly unclenched her fist and let go of Donny’s arm. He winced. She glanced up and gasped. She hadn’t realized it until just now, but her fingernails had dug into his skin, leaving angry red marks.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “It’s okay.”

  The group stared at each other in silence for a moment.

  Then Myrtle tiptoed over to the window and cautiously looked outside.

  “Is he gone?” Esther asked.

  “I think so,” she whispered. “I don’t see him, at least.”

  “Well, good riddance then.”

  Myrtle let the blinds fall closed and spun around.

  “Esther! There’s no call for that. He’s your boarder.”

  “And he can leave here come sunup. I won’t have him under my roof another night.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake!” Marsha bristled at this. “He’s fighting for you. For all of us. How can you say that about him?”

  “Because he’s not doing this for us. You get to be as old as me, Marsha, and you’ll see. I know how people are. I see through them. That man may think he’s fighting for us, but if you really look at him, you’ll see he’s fighting for himself—and the way he’s doing it is simply un-Christian. I won’t have it here. Better to end up dead than in concert with the Devil. I know that you’ve been through a lot tonight, but trust me. Levi would sacrifice every single one of us if it meant defeating the enemy. I can see it in him.”

  “Listen to you,” Myrtle said. “Do you hear yourself? This is a far cry from what you were saying about him earlier.”

  “Earlier, I didn’t know. He’s not what he seems.”

  Myrtle shook her head. “But he was praying, right before he left. I heard him whispering a prayer to God—the same God you believe in.”

  “Not my God.”

  “Fuck this shit.” Donny started for the foyer. “I don’t need to hear this crap.”

  “What are you doing?” Marsha grabbed for him again, not caring if she hurt him or not, but Donny shrugged her off. When he responded, he didn’t look at her.

  “I’m going with him. Somebody needs to watch his back.”

  Marsha put her hands to her face and stared at him, the realization sinking in.

  “He was right, wasn’t he? Levi was right. You’re afraid to be left here with me.”

  Without a word, Donny strode toward the foyer. Seconds later, they heard the door open and close.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Randy said. His tone was sullen. “None of us are gonna escape anyway. Nobody ever gets out of this town. Not before, and especially not now.”

  With Donny’s silent departure confirming her question, Marsha collapsed onto the couch and put her arm around Randy. They comforted one another as best they could and waited to see who would return— Levi, Donny . . . or the crows.

  NINE

  The darkness deepened. The moonlight dimmed. Thick, sluggish clouds crawled across the sky, blocking the feeble stars. Gone were the gunshots and screams. Gone, too, were people fleeing down the streets or across yards and vacant fields. All across Brinkley Springs, the dwindling number of survivors huddled in their homes and basements, tool sheds and root cellars, storefronts and barns, cars and trucks, praying for help and waiting for the inevitable.

  And one by one, the inevitable found them. The shadows arrived . . . hungry.

  Stu Roseman was pulled, kicking and screaming, from beneath his queen-size bed before being disemboweled. Mara Dobbs was yanked from her closet, where she’d hidden beneath a pile of blankets and towels, and was then drowned in her own toilet. Don and Jamie Mahan cowered inside their Ford Explorer, desperately trying every few minutes to start the unresponsive vehicle until both it and them were torn apart. Jerrod Hintz and Scott Balzer were discovered hiding in the butcher shop’s walk-in freezer and were clubbed to death with half-frozen slabs of meat. Candy Winters ended up with her head sticking out of her vagina. Toby Paulson was suffocated with his own severed penis. Bob Parker was strangled with his own intestines. Rocky Quesada and Joy Oliva had their heads repeatedly bashed together until both were nothing but paste. Aaron Milano was impaled on a flagpole. His two cats were impaled above him. Jeremy Garner, Peggy Stanfield and Michelle Broadhurst were discovered cowering in a far, dark corner of Herb Swafford’s hayloft. They were stabbed, cut, chopped and impaled by a variety of Herb’s farm tools—pitchforks, axes, shovels and rakes. Herb’s head and entrails lay in the mud outside the barn. His pigs would probably have eaten the scraps if the pigs hadn’t been killed, too. So were his cows, sheep and one lone horse.

  No matter where they hid, no one was missed. No matter how desperately they tried to escape or how valiantly they fought to save their lives, the end result was the same. Everyone had their turn. Everyone died. The shadows were as methodical and precise as they were ravenous and cruel. Human candles were snuffed in the night, never to shine again, and after their souls were devoured, the shadows moved on, leaving corpses in their wake.

  A small few died of natural causes. Keith David, Rebecca Copeland and Bobbi Russo all died of heart attacks brought on by fear and stress. Tim Draper and Perry Wayne suffered massive strokes that left them paralyzed and unconscious, and ultimately breathless. Don Hammerton tripped while running down the street and cracked his head open on the curb. Robin Clark suffered a seizure, bit through her tongue and bled to death. In each of their cases, their souls drifted slowly upward, flaring brightly but briefly as they were absorbed by the invisible barrier.

  Regardless of how they had died—murder or something more natural—the corpses didn’t last long. There was no slow progression of decay and decomposition. Shortly after their death, the people of Brinkley Springs returned to the ashes and dust from which they had originally sprung.

  And then, eventually, even the dust disappeared.

  ***

  Donny stood beneath th
e tree in Esther’s front yard and looked both ways down the dark street, trying to figure out which direction Levi had gone in. Nothing moved. Even the wind had stopped. He listened for footsteps, or any other sound that would give away Levi’s presence, but there was nothing. The silence made the tiny hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He’d been scared and nervous many times in Iraq. Hell, he’d been scared every day. But those fears were nothing like what he felt tonight.

  And not all of it had to do with what was happening in the town.

  He glanced back at the bed-and-breakfast, hoping to see Marsha peeking out the window at him, but the curtains remained closed. His heart sank, but what had he expected? He wished he could tell her how he felt, wished desperately that he could find the words to explain his revulsion from Brinkley Springs and his steadfast refusal to linger here any longer than he had to—even if it meant never seeing her again. But every time he tried to tell her, all it did was lead to miscommunications and further hurt feelings. It would be better for her if he just left again. She was stronger now. It wouldn’t affect her the way it had the last time he’d left. She’d get through it. She was older now, and she had Randy and her—

  Well, she didn’t have her parents anymore, did she? After tonight, she didn’t have anybody left at all, other than her little brother . . . and him.

  Something twisted in Donny’s gut. He felt a hot flush of anger and resentment that his decision to leave had now been made even more difficult. How could he abandon her now, in the aftermath of all this? He hated himself for feeling that way and would never have admitted it out loud to anyone, but the emotions were there all the same. What the hell was wrong with him? Had the last few years fucked him that goddamned bad? Was he so self-fucking centered that when his ex-girlfriend’s parents were murdered, the only thing he could think of was how inconvenient it was for him?