When the men left and the steel door slammed down, Erin was left in total darkness. Her head was swirling. She heard the click of the padlock closing and conversation fade into the distance. She struggled with the shackles for a few minutes but knew Rex well enough to know they’d be secure.
In the brutal heat of Texas summer, the storm cellar quickly became a sweatbox. Perspiration poured down Erin’s face and saturated her clothing. The derelict never awoke but snored noisily from time to time. As the long hours crept past, there was nothing to do but wait.
Just after sundown, the door opened again. They took Joe first, unfastening his manacles and roughly dragging his still-unconscious form up the stairs. The doors slammed shut and Erin was left in darkness again. She longed for something to drink, but at least it was cooling off slightly.
Twenty minutes later they returned. Without saying a word they released her hands from the manacles and threw her roughly to the floor. Pulling her arms behind her back, they shackled her hands tightly in handcuffs. As the cuffs clicked into place they jerked her to her feet. Grat led the way up the stairs while Reno and Bryce forced her after him.
Holding her arms in a vice-like grip, they loaded her into the rear seat of an extended cab pickup. Bryce climbed in beside her while Grat and Reno took the front seat. In the gathering dusk, they lurched and bounced across the open fields toward a distant grove of scrub oaks. Erin’s head was swimming. She feared she was going to be sick.
Passing through the trees, they entered a large, open area lit by generator-powered quartz-halogen lamps mounted on tall poles.
Around the perimeter of the area a crude circle had been painted on the ground in white spray paint. At the center of the circle, the still-unconscious derelict lay spread-eagled on a concrete dais with chains firmly attached to his wrists and ankles. On either side of the dais stood a large pile of dry brushwood.
The pickup stopped just outside the circle. Erin was rudely shoved out and dragged to the rear of the truck. While Bryce and Reno held her arms, Grat opened one handcuff and slipped it through a hole in the pickup’s rear bumper. They worked quickly and with precision. There was no emotion. She was being handled like a sack of feed or a side of beef.
Grat clicked the shackle into place, checked to make sure both cuffs were secure, then left without saying a word. Erin slumped onto the ground in total exhaustion and pain, numbly observing the preparations taking place before her.
More trucks were arriving and equipment unloaded. A crowd was gathering.
A few minutes later Rex drove up in his classic 1962 Rolls Royce Silver Cloud II. Rex exited the car and began a heated conversation with a tall, slender black-haired woman. Rex was still enraged and kept gesturing wildly and pointing in Erin’s direction.
As the two finished their conversation, Rex approached Erin and stood, staring at her in silent contempt for several moments. Finally he leaned down and softly said, “Don’t be impatient, Honey. We don’t want to rush Joe in his big part. It’ll be the performance of his life. But he’s just getting things warmed up for you. It’ll be your turn soon enough.”
Rex stood glaring at her a moment longer, then kicked her, driving the pointed toe of his eel skin boot forcefully into her ribs—taking her breath away. Then he spat and strode away without looking back.
Preparations were continuing around the dais. Thirteen drums were set up around the perimeter of the circle, and drummers in black robes took their positions.
When it was fully dark, a pretty, black-robed woman with long blonde hair came into view, carrying a torch. With quick, yet deliberate movements, she lit both of the piles of brushwood. As the fires began to blaze brightly, the quartz-halogen lamps were extinguished.
A circle of thirteen young women in black robes formed around the dais, staying about twenty feet from the derelict. Beyond them gathered a circle of hooded men, also in black robes. The drums began to sound a slow, deliberate cadence.
The derelict was finally stirring. Looking from side to side, he shouted frantically, “Hey… what’s going on here? Who are you people?” He struggled futilely against the chains that bound his arms, then cried, “Somebody let me go!”
Ignoring the derelict’s pleas, the black-robed men and women began a slow, rhythmic dance around the dais.
The terror of the scene before her caused Erin’s adrenalin to begin flowing. Finding new strength, she sat up and tried pulling against the chain that bound her, but the handcuff was firmly secured.
She looked around for something, anything, to use as a tool or weapon, but Grat had done his job well. There was nothing within reach but bare, hard-packed earth. She could see no possible way of escape.
Erin sat crouched in an ocean of darkness, illuminated only by the full moon. Her attention was captured by the horror steadily unfolding around the dais. Rex had come into view again. He was wearing a black robe trimmed in gold. Walking calmly through the lines of dancers, he stood before the dais observing the terrified derelict. At a motion from Rex, two figures dressed in black entered the circle and quickly ripped open the derelict’s shirt, exposing his heaving chest.
The drummers increased their speed.
Slowly, from within his robe, Rex withdrew a seventeen-inch serrated-edge bowie knife and brandished it in the air. A cry went up from around the circle.
Sensing what was about to happen, Erin frantically examined the shackle that gripped her wrist, running her free hand along every surface, searching for some way to release its hold. But there was none.
She twisted her wrist in the cuff, pulling against it with all her might, yet it held firm.
Rex began a slow circuit of the dais, holding the knife over his head. The firelight gleamed on its polished surface. The dancers were chanting now, though Erin couldn’t make out the words.
Erin’s struggle against the manacles grew more desperate. She hammered the cuff against the pickup’s bumper, jerking it, thrashing it back and forth, but it would not yield.
The drums were louder now… the drummers had been steadily increasing their speed and intensity. The dancers matched the quickening pace with even more grotesque moves. It was all building to an inevitable climax.
Erin was hysterical now. She put both feet on the pickup’s chrome bumper and pulled against the chain, straining against the stainless steel shackle until blood flowed down her arm, but the cuff remained tightly locked around her wrist.
She was in agony, tears pouring down her face. Though she’d never believed in God, Erin found herself praying desperately for help.
And then, seemingly from nowhere, a hand reached out and touched hers. It was a woman’s hand, and the touch was gentle. She looked up, incredulous, and saw a woman dressed in black kneeling over her. The woman bent down, and by the flickering light of the distant infernos, Erin caught a glimpse of her face. “Eliel!”she gasped through the tears, “what are you doing here?”
“Be quiet!” Eliel ordered. Eliel’s hand reached out and rested lightly on the stainless steel shackle. With a slight click, the handcuff fell open.
Eliel spoke quickly, “You must run! I’ll try to divert them when they come for you, but I can’t hold them back for long. Run! Run and don’t stop. Run toward the east. That bright star up there… follow it! It will lead you to the road. Araton is waiting for you there with a car. No matter what happens, you must not stop. Now GO!”
Erin didn’t need to be told again. She ran. Out across the dark field. Away from the unspeakable terror unfolding in the island of light behind her. She stumbled and fell, but got up and ran again, keeping the star in view. In the distance the drums continued to build to a crescendo. As Erin climbed over the white board fence marking the edge of the ranch, she heard the drums stop. A bloodcurdling cry split the air, then a flash of light, like distant lightning, and the sound of thunder.
Erin didn’t need to look back. She knew exactly what had happened. The portal had opened. A sound like the rasp and clatter
of hundreds of leathery wings filled the air overhead. Then it died away, and there was silence.
By then she was over the fence and stumbling across the next field.
In the distance she heard shouts. Angry shouts. The sky behind her lit up as the quartz halogen lights flashed on. They’d discovered her escape.
Erin was running across open farmland now with only the light of the full moon to show the way. As she clawed her way through tangles of brush, she felt thorns ripping her flesh but didn’t slow down. She clambered over a barbed-wire fence and was out across the next field.
Running across a mud flat at the edge of an old cattle tank, she sank into mire up to her ankles. She fell, landing on her hands and knees. She was covered in ooze and fought to free herself. Both of her shoes were lost in the dark mud, and there was no time to retrieve them. She scrambled to her feet and kept running
On dry ground again, her feet were soon torn and bleeding. She fell several more times. Every muscle in her body was screaming in pain, but she didn’t dare stop. She kept on, knowing her life depended on it.
Erin struggled through more dry brush and up over a low rise. Coming down the other side, she tripped, landing hard with her face in the dust. She lay there, breathing in ragged gasps, her chest heaving. If only she could rest. If only she could stop.
She struggled to stand, but her limbs would not cooperate. In the distance she could hear more shouts… and then the barking of dogs.
She forced herself to get up, and again she ran.
Through more bushes… inch-long thorns stabbed at her hands and legs as she stumbled on. Was every bush in Texas a thorn bush?
The dogs were getting closer. They’d found her scent.
Over another rise… and then another barbed wire fence blocked her path. Her hands were covered in blood and her fingers trembled uncontrollably as she depressed the top strand and clambered over.
Making it over the fence, Erin attempted to run, but stumbled in the darkness, falling hard on her face.
The dogs were much closer… just beyond the last rise. They’d be upon her in minutes. She couldn’t bear to think what would happen when they caught her.
Overwhelmed with exhaustion, Erin steeled herself to rise one more time. She pressed her palms firmly against the ground, and willed herself to get up. Then she stopped… perplexed. Something about the surface under her hands arrested her attention. She tried to dig her fingertips into the soil, but could not. What is this? It wasn’t the dry dirt of Texas farmland. It was rock-hard and solid. And it extended in every direction.
And then Erin knew… she had found the road.
What had Eliel said? Araton would be here with a car. Erin thought of her first meeting with Araton on the brink of Halema’uma’u crater. He’d already saved her life once. If only he were here.
Ignoring the pain, she stood and looked around frantically. She didn’t see a car.
Then, above the sound of the approaching dogs, she heard an engine start up several hundred feet down the road. With no lights visible, an old pickup truck slowly approached and pulled to a stop next to Erin. The windows were open, and she heard Araton’s voice. “Quickly… get in.
“I can’t stay with you long, but I can take you to a place where you’ll be safe for a few hours. You must call Holmes and Piper. You’ll be safe with them.”
Chapter Seventeen: Mendrion
THE LAKE HOUSE – THE PINEY WOODS OF EAST TEXAS
When they arrived at the lake house early Saturday morning, Erin had a glass of brandy and a hot shower, then slipped into one of Piper’s softest nightgowns. She was asleep within minutes and slept fitfully through the day.
Saturday evening she got up long enough to eat and quickly fell asleep again.
Before dawn on Sunday morning, Holmes and Piper were awakened by a bloodcurdling scream. Running to the guest room, they found Erin sitting up in bed sobbing. From the look of terror in her eyes, Piper knew she had been revisiting the nightmare in her sleep.
Piper sat down beside her and gently touched her forehead. Erin’s whole body was quaking, and she was running a high fever.
Looking up in alarm, Piper said, “She’s not doing well. Do you think we need to take her to a doctor?”
“Piper…” Holmes smiled. “Have you forgotten last Wednesday night? You’re a healer. Did you try to use your gift?”
“Do you think that would work here? Outside of the synaxis?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s worth a try.”
Piper looked at Erin’s trembling body. “I’m not sure where to put my hands. I know she probably has infection all through her body… along with who knows what else. I wish Eliel was here, or even Reetha… “
Then Piper had an idea. “Erin, I want to try the healing thing we did for Lys last Wednesday. Is that okay?”
Erin nodded weakly.
“I’m not sure how to do this, but I have an idea. I’m going to sit here beside you…” Piper inched closer to Erin. “Now lean up against me...”
Erin carefully leaned forward until she was resting against Piper. Like a little girl snuggled against her mother, Erin Vanderberg, the pride of Dallas society, rested her head on Ginny Piper’s shoulder. Piper put one hand on Erin’s back and another behind her head, and held her gently. Within a few seconds, Piper felt the now-familiar sensation of heat flowing through her hands.
The trembling gradually subsided, and she sensed Erin’s body relax.
“This feels good,” Erin murmured. Within minutes she had fallen into a deep sleep.
After a few minutes, when the sensation of heat in her hands ceased, Piper gently lowered Erin to the bed and stood up to evaluate her condition. Many of Erin’s bruises and lacerations were visibly improved, and the fever seemed to be gone.
Holmes and Piper were relaxing in the great room on Sunday afternoon when Erin came limping down the hallway. The bruising on her face was greatly improved, but she still looked like she’d been run over by a truck. She walks like a crude automaton, Piper thought. Her body is functioning, but something in her personality has shut down. She looks numb.
Piper went to her and gave her a gentle embrace. “Are you ready for some food?”
“Yes. Thank you,” she said weakly. Seeing the afternoon sun shimmering on the lake, she added, “I know it’s afternoon, but is there any possibility of breakfast?”
“Breakfast it is,” Piper smiled.
Piper fixed a big plate of bacon and eggs, along with toast, coffee and OJ. Erin thanked her, and silently devoured every bite.
Erin was just finishing the meal when Eliel arrived.
Eliel landed on the deck, and without bothering to knock, walked right through the door.
Seeing Eliel, a brief flicker of life came to Erin’s eyes. Erin went to her and embraced her, weeping. “Eliel, I never got a chance to thank you. If you hadn’t been there…” But she could not say more. She just held Eliel.
Eliel gently stroked her hair. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to do more, Erin.
“I was able to lay a false trail that diverted them for a short time, but when they brought in the dogs, there was little I could do. The number of Archons gathered at the ranch was overwhelming. If I’d tried to stand against them, I would have been destroyed. I could only hope you’d be able to reach Araton in time.”
Eliel helped Erin to a seat on the couch and sat beside her, then looked to Piper and Holmes. “What are your plans now?”
“We were just discussing that,” Holmes replied.
Piper asked, “Is it safe for Erin to return to Dallas? Or would it be better for her to stay here in the lake house?”
“I believe the best plan would be to return to Dallas tonight.” Eliel responded. “But stay together. There’s strength in numbers.
“Stay with Holmes,” Eliel added, glancing at Piper. “Rand has assigned Araton and Khalil to guard the house. And one of you must be in the house with Erin at all times. The shades will be aft
er her.
“I’ll meet you again on Wednesday night,” she said. “We’re nearing a critical hour. We’ll need to speed our training process.”
Eliel carefully examined Erin’s wounds and turned to Piper, “Piper, your gift is growing stronger. You can never experience the full power of your gift outside the synaxis, but your gift will always be there. Keep using it.”
***
FRISCO, TEXAS (A SUBURB OF DALLAS)
Piper and Holmes both canceled most of their appointments and worked out a schedule that allowed one of them to be in the house with Erin at all times. Despite their best efforts to encourage her, Erin became more withdrawn, spending much of her time in bed staring blankly at the wall. From time to time Piper could hear her sobbing.
By Tuesday evening, Piper sensed an almost palpable darkness settling over Erin. Entering the room, she found Erin curled in a fetal position with her eyes tightly closed, her whole body trembling.
Piper pulled a chair next to the bed and sat down beside her. Sensing a presence in the room, Erin’s eyes slowly flickered open.
“How are you feeling?” Piper asked quietly as their eyes met.
“I’ve had better days…” Erin mumbled, trying to force a smile.
“Tell me what’s happening…”
Fighting back another round of sobbing, Erin looked at Piper in anguish. “Piper… I keep reliving the horror of that night... It all just replays, over and over in my mind.
“I see Rex pacing the room and feel the pain of his blows. I smell the stench in the storm cellar. I feel the manacles on my hands. I hear the scream of that derelict as Rex ripped the life from his body. I feel like I’m still there
“I hear the dogs pursuing… the knowledge that agonizing death is just minutes away. And I’m truly thankful that I survived, but then I wonder if I really did.
Iona Portal (The Synaxis Chronicles) Page 14