3 Gates of the Dead (The 3 Gates of the Dead Series)

by Ryan, Jonathan

  “Intellectual and emotional,” I said.

  “Ah, so you have thought about it.” Father Neal needled me.

  “A little.”

  “Do you know how Jesus meets Thomas’ doubt?”

  I was speechless. I had focused for so long on Thomas in that passage, I had never given any thought to Jesus’ words. “He meets Thomas intellectually and emotionally.”

  “The invitation to put his hands in Christ’s wounds,” Father Neal prompted. “His intellectual doubts met.”

  “Then what?” I pressed.

  “Thomas believes, and then what does Jesus say?”

  “Blessed are those who don’t see, but believe,” I murmured.

  “Indeed.”

  I stared out the window at the white line on the side of the road as it raced by. To his credit, Father Neal remained quiet to let me process.

  “Have you put it together, lad?”

  “Doubt is always emotional and intellectual, as you said.”

  “Yes, and what else?”

  “Proof can always be had, but belief doesn’t depend on it, or shouldn’t.” It really was that simple. For all my reading, my study, my doubts, I forgot that everything depends on a point of view first.

  “Now, lad, given everything you’ve been allowed to see, which one is it going to be?”

  “Do I have to decide now?”

  “Yes. You must.”

  “Why is it so important?”

  “Because, if you don’t believe, you’ll be run over by a spiritual truck. The men we are about to confront are believers of a type way stronger than you. The things they know, the power they have, and it’s all real. The only way to confront them is to believe in a power much stronger.”

  “Them? I thought there was only one.”

  “No, you and Jennifer believed that, but it is not true.”

  “How do you know?”

  Father Neal gripped his cane until his knuckles went white. “Because I have seen them in the spirit world.”

  “I’m sorry. Can you say that again?”

  Father Neal was always extreme, but this was new.

  “Aidan, I have told you what I used to be.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “You didn’t believe me. You thought Crowley was a charlatan, doing it only because it got women and men into bed with him?”

  “I…” I couldn’t believe he was talking about this in front of the group.

  “Don’t worry, I had to fill them all in,” Father Neal said, waving his hand. “Crowley was real, Aidan. His followers are real. They are the men and women in black. All of them have the same purpose. To awaken the Grinning Man. Aleister was obsessed with the idea. I followed him to America to make sure…” He paused and swallowed. “My guess is The Grinning Man sleeps in those caves the book talked about. I’ve searched for him for years. Now, we’ve found him, and we can stop him.”

  “But who is he, Father? Why is this such a big deal?”

  Father Neal’s eyes pierced mine. “Who he was, originally, I don’t know. I’m not sure if anyone does. But the Puritans, the Native Americans, and everyone had a name for him. They called him the Black Man. They thought he was the actual Devil, but I believe he was, or is, only a servant of Lucifer.”

  “That’s a bit racist,” Darrin quipped from the back.

  “No, Darrin,” Zoe jumped in. “He dressed in all black, not that he was black, although, many racist people often equated the two.”

  “Yes, Zoe, and the Puritans mistakenly equated him with the Native Americans as well. But he was neither. He was a man, but what he is now, even I don’t know,” Father Neal said.

  I decided to change the subject. “When you say you saw them, what do you mean? Who did you see?”

  “I didn’t see their faces. They had obscured them, but I found them.”

  “Wait, you actually went into this world? I thought you said it was forbidden,” I pressed.

  Father Neal looked down. “It is forbidden, but I thought, under the circumstances, I would.”

  “And?”

  “I will not speak of it, Aidan.”

  “But…”

  “Don’t ask me any more. Just know I have an idea of what we will face when we get to the mound.” He grimaced as if someone had struck him.

  “What will that be?”

  “I think you know,” he said gravely, turning to face forward.

  “The final ceremony?”

  “Yes. The third gate will open, and the Grinning Man will re-enter the world.”

  Silence filled the car as we wound our way through the back roads. Father Neal’s voice broke the stillness.

  “Stop here.”

  “But we are still a mile from the mound, Father,” Reg objected as he tapped the GPS.

  “I know, Reg, but this is as close as we will get.”

  We all got out of the SUV and looked at each other. It was pretty clear no one understood why we were parked so far away.

  “Now, it’s time for my instructions. Are you all ready?” Father Neal said, his back straight, looking every bit like an old wizard. Not Dumbledore or Gandalf, but more like Merlin, wild and commanding. Everyone nodded.

  “Reg,” he continued. “Give us an hour. After that, I want you to call the county police, tell them what we talked about. It has to be an hour because if they come earlier than that, they will get more than they bargained for, understand?”

  Reg nodded.

  “Kate, Darrin, and Zoe, you must pray until Reg makes his call, do you understand? Don’t stop. And Olan?”

  “Yes, Father?”

  “You see the clump of trees in the distance on top of the hill?” he said, pointing.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “That’s where the Serpent Mound is and where we will be. After the police is called, I want you to lead everyone up the hill. Carefully and quietly. If you feel any resistance, stop and turn around, do you understand?”

  “What sort of resistance?” Kate asked.

  “You’ll know it when you feel it. There is a barrier around the mound right now that can only be broken by me. If something happens, you won’t even be able to come close.

  They nodded as they gazed at the clump of trees.

  “Good.” He lifted up his hands. “May the Power of the Three in One sustain you and protect you.” Then he gripped my arm. “Let’s go, Aidan.”

  As we walked down the road, my skin began to prickle, and my heart beat faster. My airway constricted, and I gasped. Father Neal waved his hand and mumbled something under his breath, and I felt better.

  “What was that?” I gasped.

  “The barrier I mentioned.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  His gave me a thin smile. “Electromagnetic barriers, you might say, designed to disrupt and paralyze. Reg’s car would never make it.”

  “And humans?”

  “Would go into full respiratory failure, as you were just beginning to experience.”

  The gravel on the side of the road crunched under our feet as I took in his words.

  “And how do they do this, exactly?”

  Father Neal didn’t answer as his lips moved in silence.

  “Father Neal?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry, my boy, what did you say?”

  “I said how do they put up these barriers?”

  He limped along. “You might call it a generator, I suppose. They would have generated them, casting a dome around themselves.”

  “Did you say cast?”

  “I did, yes. A spell of sorts, a spell of protection.”

  “Spell of protection?” I couldn’t keep the skepticism out of my voice.

  “Yes, Thomas, spell of protection.”

  The clouds hid the moon as we walked up to the earthen serpent. “You know, I might be able to buy the whole God thing again, but this magick business is a bit hard to swallow.” I strained my eyes to see Father Neal through the blackness that surrounded u
s.

  He looked at me, surprised. “Don’t you remember our conversation about science, magick, and God? And as for how it relates to Christianity, the Bible forbids certain practices, but it never says the cursed things don’t work. It just instructs us not to do them. Is that also troubling to you, hard to comprehend?”

  I sighed. “No, I mean … I don’t know.”

  “It’s all right, my lad, God loves you anyway.”

  My throat tightened, but I said nothing.

  We walked for about twenty minutes as the darkness closed in around us like a blanket. The lights from the houses that had been twinkling in the distance now disappeared. I could only see a few hundred feet around us as we turned off the road. A sign posted midway up the hill read: Serpent Mound State Park.

  Father Neal looked at me. “Here we go, lad, up the hill.”

  The branches of the trees pointed up like bones waving their gnarly fingers in the wind. The farther we climbed, the stronger the wind blew. The darkness engulfed us.

  “We are getting close, Aidan.”

  Father Neal pointed to the left. “The mound is over there.”

  I could only make out a hump of earth stretching down the hill. “Doesn’t look like much,” I whispered.

  “I know, but trust me when I tell you, it’s impressive.” As Father Neal moved, I noticed a canvas satchel across his shoulder.

  “What’s in the bag?”

  “Don’t ask questions. Let’s move.”

  We walked farther to the mound as the tall observation tower loomed over us. I shivered as a creeping sense of dread hit me. My heart quickened, my breath came in ragged gasps, and my vision narrowed. The telltale signs of a panic attack. I wanted to run, to get away. I turned around, and Father Neal grabbed me by the arm.

  “No, you don’t really want to run.”

  “I’m afraid,” I heard myself saying, but not quite believing the words, or the meekness of my voice.

  “It’s all part of their work, Aidan. The fear, the darkness, all of it.”

  I looked up into the trees. “And the wind? What’s with the wind?”

  “Spirits … the spirits are coming to the mound.”

  Thunder rolled and crackled around us as a ripping sound filled the air.

  “The veil,” I said, and Father Neal nodded.

  As we walked closer to the mound, the temperature began to drop beyond the natural cold of night. My breath, which I could barely see at the start of our walk, had now become a steady stream of gray.

  Father Neal slowed down, and his limp grew more pronounced.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” he gasped. “My knee aches. An old war wound, you might say.”

  “Do you need help?” I reached toward him.

  “No. Thank you, though. I will enter the ring by my own power.” His voice was resolute.

  “The ring?”

  “A concentrated energy surrounding the men who have done all this. It grows more intense from the spirits that are gathering.”

  At that moment, we heard it. The sound of crunching snow surrounded us in the dark woods. The sound of hundreds of feet marching in step.

  “The coming sacrifice draws them, held in the power of the Bone Masters,” Father Neal whispered. “They’re coming to the mouth of the serpent, to concentrate their power for the Grinning Man. Don’t move.”

  We stood still, holding our breath as the spirits passed around us. With each crunch, I felt certain they would see us, but whether they were too focused on their destination, or Father Neal’s prayers protected us, I couldn’t tell, and they moved on.

  “Now, Aidan, walk right behind me. Don’t walk anywhere else.”

  I might have argued with him in the quiet warmth of his office, but not here, not now. This was his realm, and I could only follow like a kid following his dad.

  Each step brought us closer to the mouth. In some parts, the ancient mound rose no higher than our knees. As it stretched down the hill, the hump grew larger. We climbed on top of the nearest earthen coil. It seemed deserted, but Father Neal began to follow the curve.

  “We are now on the back of the serpent, Aidan. Shall we find the head so we can crush it?” he whispered, a new strength entering his voice as though he was using all his energy.

  “By all means, but how?” I scrambled up after him.

  “My guess is this is the tail, so all we have to do is continue in this direction until the end.”

  I nodded. “Lead the way, priest.”

  We followed the curvy mound as it wound its way across the open plain. I squinted into the dark to see if I could see the head. Nothing.

  As I reached out to tap Father Neal on the shoulder, a hard smack to my chest knocked me onto my back. All the air rushed out of my lungs, and I struggled to breathe. I looked up to see Father Neal stagger, but he caught himself with his cane.

  “They know we are here,” he rasped.

  “What do we do?”

  Father Neal crossed himself and said something quietly under his breath as he bent down at my side. He reached into the canvas bag and pulled out something I couldn’t see. He touched my arm and then touched my leg. Heat flowed down my arm.

  “Thanks. What’s that in your hand?”

  “Don’t worry about it just now. Let’s keep working our way to the serpent’s head.”

  As we walked on, the wind beat at us with hurricane force. Father Neal grabbed my arm as we struggled to follow the path. The wind began to howl as if it had become a living being. I thought it was just my imagination, but I started making out voices in the gusts. Faint whispers grew louder and louder as though someone had turned up the volume to a full ear-splitting blast.

  The Masters summon us. We will raise him. He will serve us…

  A death is coming, we will obey…

  I want to see blood, her blood…

  Her body shakes and her cries. Mmmmmmm. I hope they cut her now, just to give us a little pleasure. I am thirsty…

  “No!” I shouted into the air. My voice boomed as if it had been amplified with a stadium-sized sound system. I felt naked as I sensed invisible eyes turning to me with their full interest.

  Why are they here? A voice hissed right next to me.

  I felt a hard slap across my face, and I cried out in pain.

  They do not belong here! Beat them!

  Invisible blows struck my body. Palm prints appeared on my exposed arms, and hands tore at my clothes as I continued to cry out.

  “Aidan?” A woman’s voice cut through the darkness.

  “Jennifer?” I shouted, feeling hope spring up in my chest.

  “Over here, they’re gone. Help me, please!”

  Panic rose in her voice as I ran to the serpent’s head, the frozen ground crunching under my feet. The spirits ramped up their attack until my skin grew numb from the invisible slaps.

  Another blow to the chest and I went down hard. I looked around for Father Neal, but I couldn’t see him anywhere.

  “Father, help me!” I didn’t know if it was a prayer or if I was asking Father Neal to save me. At that point, I didn’t care as I felt something lift me up by my coat and stand me on my feet. I turned around and saw no one. I ran the rest of the way to the earthen egg in the serpent’s mouth.

  As I approached the mound, I found Jennifer in the center of the egg. They had covered her with a white ceremonial robe and tied her to a wooden doorframe. This was how they planned to hang her.

  No one else seemed to be around, and I began to descend the mound. Someone grabbed my shoulder.

  “Aidan, don’t go to her,” Father Neal said. “You will not be able to do it. Let me.”

  “Come on, there is no one here.”

  Before I could finish, piercing shrieks tore through the air and brought me to my knees. My ears ached as I tried to crawl down the mound to Jennifer. Gray-colored shadows swirled around me and assaulted my body. I tried to raise my arms and shield myself as two figures stru
ck me at once. I hit face first on the ground, and I tasted the cold grass. Invisible arms pinned me down, making it impossible for me to move.

  And then, I heard another voice, a voice of command speaking words I couldn’t make out.

  Was this actually the voice of God? I wondered. Or maybe some high ranking angel? The voice boomed into the darkness as if pumped through a giant subwoofer.

  I turned to look at its source.

  Father Neal stood erect, his arms extended above his head, his fingers stretched to the sky. His white hair flew in the relentless wind, and his face had been transformed from a kindly old man into some kind of powerful, angelic warrior. He reached into his bag, and it glowed white. The light crawled up his hand, to his arms and engulfed his entire body. He held up something I couldn’t see. Light sprang from him, white, hot, and bright to the point that I needed to shield my eyes.

  The world as I saw it turned upside down just beyond the light. Giant thuds hit the ground, and the whole earth shook.

  I crawled on my knees toward Jennifer. “Are you okay?” I reached out to her as I rose up near the doorframe.

  “Aidan,” she sobbed, tears streaming down her face. “Aidan, you’re here.”

  “Let me get these ropes.” I took out my pocketknife and began to cut.

  “Hurry, Aidan!” the voice of Father Neal roared from the light. “I can’t hold them any longer.” Then he boomed, “Michael Militant! Come defend us! Father, Son, and Holy Ghost hear my prayer!”

  The ground rocked with the force of exploding dynamite.

  I cut at Jennifer’s ropes with fury until my hands ached. First one, then another. I tried to ignore her wrists and ankles, which were now bleeding freely from chafing. With each tug of the rope, she cried out a bit.

  “I’m sorry.” I tried to keep my voice steady.

  “Don’t apologize, just keep going. They could be back.” She grimaced as I pulled the rope for more room.

  I glanced around quickly. “Where did they go?”

  “I don’t know. They vanished when you shouted.” Her voice became hoarse.

  “Maybe they ran away.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  With a final grunt, I sliced through the rope on her wrists and caught her as she fell forward. I helped her stand, and she shivered as she leaned against me. I took off my coat and wrapped it around her.