“Edmundson,” Cole said, “you stay here. Guard these people as best you can. Keep them together, keep them calm, and keep them busy, you hear?”
“Yessir,” Edmundson said.
“So who’s going to go, then?” another man in the crowd asked. “Who’s going to volunteer?”
“It’s a suicide mission,” Ted said, throwing up his hands. “You go out there and there’s no way even nine of you are going to make it there.”
“Shut up, Ted,” Rob replied, rolling his eyes. “You’re scaring people. Seriously, man. Just shut up.”
“You shut up!” Ted replied. “This is crazy! You can go off and get yourself killed for some voodoo mumbo jumbo, but I’m not.”
“Good, stay here. No one wants you along anyway.”
“Oh, and you think they want you along? Whatcha gonna do, speak Latin at them? Fucking fa—”
“Enough!” Edmundson said. He looked close to breaking. “I’ve had a long night and I swear, man, if you don’t knock it off, I will lay you out flat on your ass.”
Ted must have sensed Edmundson would and could do just that, because he turned and wandered off, muttering curses under his breath.
“Sorry, ma’am,” Edmundson said. “Go on.”
Kathy suppressed a little smile. “Thanks. Now, I know it’s asking a lot, but you’re doing it for yourselves and for each other. You’re doing it for your families and your community. Trust me, if there was a way I could do this alone, I would. But there isn’t. I need eight of you, and the more varied the eight, the better. Men, women…even children.”
“No!” the mother immediately said, pulling her little girl into a hug. “No. No way.”
“I’m only asking for volunteers,” Kathy said. “No one is obligated to go.”
The silence that followed drew out uncomfortably. People cleared their throats and looked away, shuffled their feet and fidgeted.
Finally, a voice said, “I’ll do it.”
Kathy and the rest of the crowd turned to see who had broken the silence. It was Toby.
“I’ll go,” he said. “Just…just tell me what I need to do.”
“So that’s four of us,” Bill said. “Five more to go.”
“I’ll go,” Kari said.
“And me as well,” Cicely added.
“Three more,” Bill said.
“You can count me in,” Rob said. “Variety for the win, right? Spice of life and all.”
“Why do you need a varied group?” the mother of the little girl asked suddenly. “Why is that important?”
“It makes the incantation stronger,” Kathy said. “Different voices, different energies, different experiences, all channeling one single purpose. It increases the chances of the incantation working, both quickly and completely.”
“So…if Gracie and I go with you,” the mother said slowly, “that would help…you know, make this spell or whatever, this incantation, strong enough to send these things back?”
“It would. I wish I could say otherwise. I’d never even suggest it under other circumstances.”
“Can you promise, if we come along, that you’ll do everything you can to protect her?”
Kathy looked at her, surprised. She gave Kathy a sheepish little smile. “She insists on going, but I won’t let her go alone. I’m coming too. I’m sure Deputy Edmundson here is a fine police officer, but I’m thinking about my little girl, and I can’t help feeling maybe she’d be safer with an expert in this stuff, a sheriff with a gun, and an ex-sheriff, right? Still…I want your word—your personal word, Ms. Ryan—that you’ll do everything you can to keep her safe.”
“You have it,” Kathy said.
The mother let out a shuddery sigh. “Okay. Okay. We’ll come too. I’m Louise, by the way.”
“Louise, thank you.”
A tear escaped Louise’s eye. “Just please try to keep my baby safe,” she said softly.
Kathy nodded. “Thank you. All of you, thank you.”
“You’ll need guns,” Ted said from the back of the crowd. He cocked the pistol he was holding. “Still think this is bullshit, but can’t no one say I didn’t do my part.” He handed the pistol to Rob, along with a set of keys. “My SUV is parked in the back. White Chevy Tahoe. Will fit all nine of you.”
“Thank you, Ted,” Kathy said, offering him a small but genuinely appreciative smile.
The alien abduction woman and the man with the baseball cap came forward. “Ellie and Bob,” the woman said, gesturing at herself and her companion. “Take our guns as well.” With a big grin, she added, “Don’t worry. We have more.”
Toby took one of the offered guns and Kari took the other.
“You’re good folks, all of you,” Kathy said. “And I’m going to do everything I can to fix this. Know that. Volunteers, take fifteen minutes, get yourselves and your things together, and we’ll go. To everyone else, stay here and stay safe. Watch out for each other. And don’t give Deputy Edmundson a hard time.”
Little Gracie tugged on the hem of Kathy’s blouse and she looked down. “Are we gonna kill the monsters, Ms. Ryan?”
“Yeah, sweetie, we’re gonna sure as heck try.”
Chapter 17
Twenty minutes later, Kathy and the eight volunteer members of her circle stood by the front doors of the Heritage Center, along with Ted, Ellie, and Bob. The latter three, led by Ellie, had grudgingly volunteered to provide a distraction at the windows if necessary so that the other nine could slip out the back door to Ted’s SUV. The three of them were armed to the teeth, more so than the deputy downstairs or even the sheriff, which under other circumstances, Kathy might have found a bit unsettling. In this case, though, she was glad that Pennsylvania folks liked their guns and had thought to bring them.
They all stood looking out the window at the sculptures, assessing the situation. There were nine of those things out there, and they were no longer lining the walkway. They had essentially given up the pretense of blending in to their surroundings. Hovering, pulling, and stretching, they surged over the lawn, forming an uneven and constantly changing barrier between the doors and the parking lot. While no eyes surfaced from that nebulous mass of bodies, often several mouths appeared as they growled and nipped at each other. The lack of eyes could mean one of two things: Either their attention spans were short and their ability to sense humans based on proximity…or they were deliberately pretending to ignore the small group of people pressed up to the windows.
“Ugly fuckers, aren’t they?” Ted said.
“Language,” Louise muttered. She was clutching her wide-eyed little girl close. Both looked pretty terrified, and were probably having serious doubts about volunteering. Kathy didn’t blame them.
“Pretty big too,” Bob added. He chewed on the filtered end of an unlit cigarette—there was no smoking in the Heritage Center, and he wasn’t about to step outside for a smoke—and frowned. He went to tap on the glass, but Cole grabbed his wrist.
“Not a good idea,” Cole said and let go.
“Can they hear us?” Bob asked. “Or see us? Shit, they don’t have ears or eyes or—”
“They can see,” Kathy said, “and I’d guess they can either hear or smell us, or feel changes in the air akin to those senses.” She shifted the toolbox to her other hand. The box inside was vibrating audibly now, and some of the others were glancing at it uncomfortably.
“So…if they look like they’re leaving, heading around back or something, we make some noise here, right?” Ted asked. He had settled down considerably from the large, disgruntled man he’d been in the basement. Kathy had found that often, coming face-to-face (such as the face may be) with proof of interdimensional entities had that effect on people.
“Yes, but try to keep them outside and you inside at all times, if possible,” Cole said. “If they do break in or you have to
go out, shoot them in the mouth. We don’t know if it hurts them, but they sure don’t like it. Makes ’em fold up and disappear.”
“And if they break through the glass?” Ellie asked.
“Retreat to the basement. Hold down the fort,” Bill answered. “We hope it won’t come to that.”
“So don’t mess with them unless they mess with you or us,” Bob said.
Kathy turned to him. “I’m counting on the three of you to keep cool heads. Don’t fire unless you have to. Don’t draw their attention unless you have to. And if you have to, shoot wisely. Get me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Bob replied. “Shoot smart, not hard.”
“Exactly.”
Bob went to the far end of the lobby and set himself up in a shadow by the window, his gun drawn. Ted took the other side and Ellie took watch by the doors.
“Good luck,” Ellie said to Kathy. “Be safe.”
“Do what you gotta do and do it quick,” Ted added.
“Thanks,” Kathy said, and to Cole, “Lead the way.”
Cole led them back through all the rooms to a small hallway, past the offices of Historical Society members and then on past storage rooms to a small metal door. Kathy handed Cole the keys that Mrs. Pulaski had given her, and Cole unlocked the back door. It was the kind with a long metal push bar, and it groaned when Cole opened it. The nine of them waited a moment, listening for the keening or growling sounds of possible nearby creatures. When they were satisfied that the dense darkness was empty, they filed quietly out, one at a time, into the open air.
The back parking lot of the Heritage Center was thankfully empty, with the exception of two sedans and Ted’s Tahoe. His keys had a fob dangling from the key ring that would automatically open the doors, but the accompanying noise was too much of a risk. They’d have to open the doors manually.
They crept across the lot, sticking close together and keeping little Gracie in the middle. They were acutely aware of their surroundings, flinching at every little sound, shivering at the slightest shifts of the breeze.
They had just reached the Tahoe when the first of the screeches sounded over the top of the building.
“Cole,” Kathy warned. She was on the passenger side of the van, waiting for Cole, on the driver’s side, to unlock the door. The toolbox trembled in excitement.
“On it,” Cole said tensely.
A dark shape soared upward against the sky, its outlines glowing faintly. Its newly formed wings made a terrible buzzing sound, despite the slow flap of their movement.
Next to Kathy, Bill said, “Stick close to the truck, folks.”
Cole got the driver’s-side door open and pushed the button to unlock the other doors. Another screech zigzagged through the air, followed by a gunshot, and then another.
The others opened their doors, piling in to the Tahoe. Kathy hopped into the passenger seat and at the satisfying sound of doors slamming, Kathy let go of the breath she had been holding. She turned in her seat and quickly counted seven people, plus Cole and herself.
“Everybody in,” she said, putting the toolbox on her lap. “Everyone okay?”
“We’re fine,” Bill said. “Let’s go.”
Cole fired up the engine and took off. As he turned the corner, Kathy could see Ted on the front lawn, firing wildly. Inside the open doors, Ellie and Bob were trying to help without compromising the security of the building, but it was a losing battle. The creatures swarmed Ted like a black, slightly iridescent fog, and his screams followed the van as it pulled out onto the road.
Louise clutched her daughter close, trying to cover her eyes and ears. Toby watched out the back window. The others looked worried.
No one spoke during the ten-minute drive to the edge of the woods.
When Cole parked the truck, they all looked to Kathy. She knew they wanted instruction and leadership. Even more than that, she knew they wanted to hear that everything would be okay.
She could at least provide the former.
“We need to stay together going through the woods. It’s about an hour’s hike in, but the path is fairly clear and the terrain is easy. Still, stay together. Hold hands if you want—I don’t care. Just make sure you don’t get lost, okay? I don’t know what’s in there, but I can only assume that the closer we get to the Door, the more desperate those things will be to keep us from it.”
“Kathy,” Cicely said, “are we going to die?”
“Was Ted right?” Kari added. “Is this really a suicide mission?”
Kathy paused, knowing full well that each second that ticked by that she didn’t answer them was going to erode their confidence. Finally, she said, “Not necessarily. It’s dangerous. You all know that. But if you do what I tell you, we have the best odds of surviving. Once I begin the incantation, the only thing you need to do is hold hands, close your eyes, and concentrate. That’s it. They won’t be able to touch you then. We just have to get ourselves there and set up. That’s the real tricky part.”
“Let’s go then,” Toby said quietly.
The others agreed.
“If you’re ready….” Kathy said.
“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Rob replied.
“Okay, then. Let’s get to it.”
* * * *
The nine of them made their way through the woods, led by Bill and Cole, then Kathy, carrying the toolbox. She had been partly joking when she’d suggested holding hands, but they did, forming a sort of chain that began with Gracie tightly gripping both Kathy’s free hand and one of her mother’s, then Rob, Kari, and Cicely, and ending with Toby. Since cell phones had ceased to work some hours ago, the density of the night possibly interfering not just with their reception, but even with the functioning of things like the flashlight app, Cole was using the utility light that he kept clipped to his belt. Bill had found another flashlight under one of Ted’s car seats, and between the two of them, the illusion of safe passage was created. The group spoke little, and when they did, it was of superficial observations. Toby told a joke that elicited smiles, if not laughter, and Bill told a hunting story about the time a herd of deer pushed him into a lake.
Kathy smiled to herself. It never ceased to amaze her how adaptable human beings were to situations of intense fear. Soldiers did it. Trauma victims did it. Their methods varied from shutting down to cracking wise, from innuendo and physical contact to complete avoidance, but as a species, humans were survivors. In her lifetime, Kathy had found little reason to have faith in the better parts of humanity, but their resilience and their occasional acts of thoughtless bravery were why she kept doing what she did best. People surprised her in their will to find the best and bravest aspects of their character sometimes.
The increasing volume of their laughter and talk suggested that for the time being, they had forced the fear from their minds. It was, in part, due to the fact that the majority of the trip through the woods had been uneventful. The occasional crackling of a branch or the crunch of leaves that echoed in just such a way as to suggest something “out there” made them flinch, but in each case, it had proved to be nothing. They were starting to feel confident, allowing themselves the possibility that everything really would be okay.
Kathy hoped they were right.
They were close, maybe five minutes or so away, when Kathy saw the eyes. First, it was a pair, shark-like and faintly glowing, from a clump of shrubs. Then another pair lit up nearby, and another, and another.
The laughter trickled off quickly and the chatter ground to a halt. The others had noticed. Bill and Cole had slowed considerably, so that the entire line crept stealthily now, afraid sudden or swift movement would incite the things behind those predatory eyes to attack.
“Kathy, what do we do?” Toby asked from the far end of the line.
“Hold onto each other. Don’t run unless they attack. If they do, head for the clearing
up there. We’re close.”
All around them, a low hum almost like words closed in on them.
They kept moving. Occasionally a tentacle would snap out at them, making Kari or Louise cry out. Cicely half-whispered prayers.
When one of the creatures leaned out and roared in Toby’s face, he fired three bullets into its mouth. It shrieked and snapped back into the darkness. Another lunged at Kari, but Kathy pulled the gun from the other woman’s pocket and fired until that shrieking mouth jerked back into the gloom.
Bill and Cole broke through to the clearing and Kathy shouted, “Go! Go!” The others, still holding onto each other, half-ran and half-stumbled into the clearing.
The runes around the doorframe glowed. In the space beneath the Door itself, bluish mist roiled out and into the air. The oaks, distorted by the alien light and the encroaching dark, seemed to shrink even further away from the groaning and bowing boards of the Door. Whatever was on the other side—maybe the true gods behind the Door—couldn’t slip underneath, and Kathy was glad for that. But the way the planks were bending against the strain, it would be a miracle if those gods didn’t find a way to break straight through.
“Quick, everyone! Form a circle.” Kathy stood before the Door and the others joined hands in a circle around her. She looked at each in turn—Kari to Cicely to Rob to Toby to Gracie and Louise, then to Bill and Cole. Then she opened the toolbox and took out the wooden box within. It glowed so brightly that for a moment, its bluish light was all she could see. It also trembled violently in her hands, and it took a good deal of her strength just to hold onto it.
She’d written phonetic notes for the incantation on the inside of her left arm, and as she held the box out toward the Door, she began to speak.
The hum of the Door, in response, grew louder, punctuated by a loud bang and then another from the other side. The darkness had swallowed the woods in all directions, flowing toward the ring of oaks, toward the circle of people and the Door.
A cry from Toby grew her glance in his direction, but she kept speaking. She caught a glimpse of the gash on the back of his shoulder, issued from a tentacle withdrawing into that encroaching dark. He was clearly in pain, but he held onto the hands of Gracie and Rob. Kari cried out next, though she too kept the circle unbroken, despite the blood running down her leg. Kathy kept going. The wood in her hands was splintering as the contents rattled violently against it, and her shoulder burned with white-hot pain, but she held on.
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