He heard Stacy exhale and utter a brief moan. "It's black. Everything has been painted black."
The carpet, the walls, the windows, the pews... all black. The feeble glow of the candlelight didn't stand a chance.
"Who would do something like this?" she asked.
"They worship the Shadowking," Eric blurted. "They did this as a tribute."
"If there is a God, how could He allow this to happen?"
Geoff turned as the pounding on the door grew more frantic. What he saw there made his blood freeze in his veins.
"No," he shuddered. "They've gone too far."
He'd never witnessed something as purely evil as what he saw above the soot-colored altar.
A giant cross hung from the wall, turned upside-down and painted to match the rest of the room. The body of Christ had also been smeared with a black, tar-like substance. The only spots of color were in His eyes... they'd been painted silver. A wooden sign hung above the hellish scene: The False God.
On either side of the inverted cross were six other human bodies, nailed to crude, handmade crucifixes. By the looks of them, they'd been hanging there for some time. Their skin had been burned and melted; their charred clothing hung from their remains like long-forgotten scarecrows. Each had a sign hung around its neck by a thick rope: The Liar, The Whore, The Thief, The Unbeliever, The Adulterer, and The Interloper.
An unholy display of human sacrifice.
The image turned Geoff's stomach. He retched loudly, vomiting half-digested soup onto the church floor. He heard Stacy crying behind him but suddenly felt too dizzy to go to her. The vision burned inside his head like a malignant tumor. The crimes perpetrated by those hanging overhead could have never matched the barbaric way in which they had been punished.
"Please," Geoff begged. "Get us out of here, Eric. Whatever it takes. Another second in here and I'm going to lose my mind."
"We have to get outside," he said. His voice had grown thick from weeping. "The Skryel's presence is too strong here."
Just then, the rear door burst open with a crash and a half-dozen men and women stepped inside, trembling in anticipation. Pauline brushed them aside and took her spot in front of them. In the firelight, she looked ancient; a corpse wrapped in gray flesh and the stinking, tattered remains of her grave shroud.
"There's nowhere else to run, Traveler. This is where you meet your end."
"Shut your disgusting mouth," Stacy screamed. "What have you people done? You're damned... all of you are damned!"
Pauline wiped spittle from her lips and toddled closer on grimy, gnarled feet. The others crept forward behind her, barely able to contain their excitement.
"We're not the ones who are damned, girl. The boy has sealed your fate. By morning, you're smoking flesh will grace the chancel wall and we'll feed our crops with your blood."
"You're the one waking up in Hell," Geoff shouted as he grabbed the nearest candelabra and dumped it to the floor. The candles sputtered and threatened to go out before finding new life in the threads of the carpet. The flame chewed at the floor hungrily before catching on to the closest pew. They backed away as a wall of heat separated them from their attackers. Black, noxious smoke drifted to the ceiling and began filling the airtight room.
"NOOOO!" Pauline thundered. "Get them! Get them NOW!"
Geoff was caught off guard as three of the men lurched forward and ran toward them through the flames. All of them became screaming torches. They beat at their flesh and clothing as their skin blistered and blackened. Pauline raged from behind the inferno, ordering others to continue the pursuit. Geoff saw her through the shimmering heat; the hem of her dress had begun smoldering.
"Shadowking!" she bellowed. "Hear our prayers! The Traveler has come to mock you and undo your glorious creation! Since The Darkening, we have wept at your feet, begged you to make us whole. Your kingdom awaits!"
Geoff ran to the other side of the room, toward the wide double doors that would lead them back out to the street. He didn't know what he'd find on the other side of the door, but another minute in that forsaken church would surely be the end of them all. His right hand had begun to tingle with a peculiar heat...
Eric rushed past him and pushed open the heavy door, running down the front path and waiting for him on the sidewalk. From here he could clearly see that the rear half of the church was consumed in flame. So intent on following their target, the Skryel's chosen ones hadn't thought to surround the church and cut off their means of escape. Eric didn't realize that the laughter he heard was his own.
Geoff followed, running from the blistering heat, before turning to make sure Stacy was right on his heels. She stood ten feet away, covering her eyes and cowering from the fingers of fire that reached out for her. Pauline staggered through the burning wall, an open-mouthed, quivering mass of melting flesh. She reached her arms out to Stacy, ready to pull her into the inferno.
Geoff reached out with his right hand and ran toward her, knowing it was too late to save Stacy. Each footstep happened in slow motion; his panicked scream deepened and slowed like a record played at the wrong speed. As he neared the fire, his outstretched hand blazed white hot, wrapping his body in a shroud of super-heated wind. He'd never felt pain so intense in his life, but if he was going to die, it was going to be at Stacy's side. He fell to his knees and grabbed Stacy's shirt in his left hand; his right had become useless. Pauline leaned over and prepared to lunge.
Suddenly, the agony in Geoff's right hand became a pleasant tingle. The pain was gone. Something had changed; he felt a strange energy coursing through his flesh. It crackled from his fingertips like a downed power line. Pauline's tortured body stopped as if she'd hit an invisible wall, and for a second, she hung in the air, motionless, trapped. Like a shotgun blast, white flame exploded from Geoff's right hand, striking Pauline directly in the chest and turning her flesh into a thousand pieces of bloody shrapnel. The white light grew brighter and spread across the width of the room; it pulsed in time with Geoff's heartbeat, pushing the inferno back with the strength of a hundred fire hoses.
Geoff assumed he was dead. Nothing else could account for what was happening to him. He clenched his hand into a fist and closed his eyes as his entire arm grew transparent. Bundles of nerves glowed with electricity, and as Geoff realized the pressure was building to a climax, it did just that.
A massive wave of pure light erupted from Geoff's hand, knocking him back to the carpet. He quickly huddled over Stacy, fearing the blast would bring the building down on top of them in a fiery heap. Instead, the area behind the desecrated altar shattered like broken glass and rocketed into the field behind the church, flattening the crops like a giant foot. Even the raging fire couldn't escape the force of the blast. It shot from the back of the building like a booster rocket, turning the remaining followers into scorched skeletons.
"I did that," Geoff stated. "I did that! What did I do? Did you see that, Stacy? Eric? Where are you? Did you see that?"
Eric jogged to the front door, out of breath, but smiling. "I saw it. You can pat yourself on the back later. We still need to go."
"I kung-fu fire-slapped that bitch right through the fucking wall!" he cheered.
Stacy wrapped her arms around Geoff's neck and refused to let go. He couldn't tell if she was laughing or crying, but she was alive. They all were. Geoff stumbled through the door, carrying Stacy into the blessedly cool night air.
His celebration was short-lived. He heard the angry shouts before he saw who'd made them. Torchlight appeared from around the sides of the ruined houses across the street... dozens of them. The Skryel's congregation had far larger numbers than they'd previously seen.
"They were waiting," Geoff groaned. "The bastards were here all along just waiting for us."
"Make it stop," Stacy pleaded. "I want to wake up now. I've had enough..."
"Stand back," Geoff said. "Maybe I can fucking blast them..."
"No! Don't!" Eric warned. "You don't know how to
use it... you'll get us all killed."
The men with torches formed a semi-circle around them, trapping them in the middle of the street between them and the remains of the church.
"What then? Where do we go?"
Night became day as the distant hill was struck by a jagged fork of blue lightning. For seconds after, Geoff pawed at his eyes, convinced he'd gone blind. When his sight returned, he had to bite his lip to keep from screaming.
The house had followed them, and with it came the Skryel.
Destroyer of Worlds. God of this disowned patch of forgotten earth.
"He has returned!" a man shouted.
"God of The Shadows, hear us!" a woman replied.
All those who worshiped at the altar of the Skryel dropped their torches and fell to their knees in submission. They stared at the house with wet eyes, mumbling prayers and promises, offering their blood.
Offering their lives.
The ground trembled with the force of the Skryel's wrath. An inky black stain coalesced in the sky above the house. Geoff finally understood that everything happening was predestined: from the stupid television show to the impromptu road trip, from the harmless ghost stories to waking up in another dimension. It was meant to be this way, the machinations of an ancient being that would stop at nothing to unravel the universe.
"What now?" he asked.
Eric grabbed his hand and smiled sadly. "We fight."
Hand-in-hand they stood together, surrounded by the praying damned.
Geoff closed his eyes and felt the all-too-familiar jolt as Eric worked his magic.
He knew in his heart they weren't going home.
The traveling no longer bothered him. He was growing used to it... and he made his peace with knowing that wherever they went, death would follow.
The Skryel would follow.
He opened his eyes...
THE END
Chapter 10
THE END
The words were scrawled on a make-shift sign, surrounded by thick, overgrown brush.
"That's not the greatest omen I've ever seen," Geoff said. "We're still in Elmview?"
"One of them."
"Can't you take us somewhere else? A beach? A resort? A Phillies game?"
Eric laughed and shook his head. "This is safest right now. It's easiest for me to travel to places I know... and, well, Elmview is pretty much all I know."
"I understand that, but by going back time and again, you're destroying the only thing you've ever known."
"Would you rather me draw that fucking thing into Los Angeles? Chicago? It might not be the best way, but it's all I can do right now."
Their conversation was interrupted by Stacy's harsh retching. She sat in the grass, hunched over, puking up nothing more than strings of thick saliva and bile.
"Come on, babe," Geoff chuckled. "It gets easier the more you do it."
"Get away from me," she barked. "I saw what you did to those people."
"What I did... to those crazy, godless maniacs? Are you joking?"
"Just leave me alone, please." She gagged and spit into the brush. Her skin was the color of fresh snow.
"What's wrong with her?" he asked.
"It's all the traveling," Eric replied. "She's not made for this."
"And I am?"
"Did you see what you just did back there? Do I really have to answer that?"
"So I can shoot lightning from my fingers like fucking Electro, but she pukes every time we move?"
"Electro?"
"Forget it! I just want to know what's happening to her. Is she going to be okay?"
"Hopefully."
"Hopefully? That's not good enough, Eric. Not at all."
"You won't have problems traveling; you were built for this. You're a doorway. I've told you this before."
"Yeah? And?"
"And she's not. Her body and her mind can't deal with this the same way we do."
"So what? She's going to die?"
"I didn't say that," Eric muttered. "Eventually she's going to lose touch with reality. It's going to drive her mad. She'll forget who you are and why we're here... and even where here is."
"Then we have to go back!" he yelled. "Right now. We have to go back home."
"We can't do that. For fuck's sake, I won't!"
"Then you're killing her!" Geoff pushed the boy away and watched him trip over his feet and fall into the dirt. He stood over him, fists balled. Eric held his hands in front of his face and closed his eyes, preparing for the attack. Geoff pulled his arm back and stopped, horrified by what he was about to do.
"Go ahead," Eric screamed. "Do it and get it over with."
"No. No, I can't."
"Is it going to make you feel better? Is it going to solve all your problems?"
"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."
"Yes, you did! You're just another bully. Just like the kids at school. Just like my fucking sister. Go ahead and do it!"
Geoff reached down to comfort the boy, but Eric struck out and punched his hand.
"Damn, kid, you hit hard."
"Let me up and I'll punch you right in the face!"
"No one's hitting anyone," Geoff said. "Now knock it off. I said I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push you."
Eric crawled back on his hands and quickly jumped up, well out of Geoff's reach.
"Christ, kid. What the hell happened to you?"
"Nothing. Forget it."
"I don't want..."
"I don't fucking care what you want. Just... please. Let it go, okay?"
"I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about me. Go see if Stacy is okay."
Confident that Eric wouldn't bash his skull in with a rock, Geoff knelt next to Stacy and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She twitched but allowed his touch.
"Honey? Are you okay?"
"Geoff?" She looked as if she'd just woken from a deep sleep. "Where are we?"
"Don't worry about that. I'm getting you home soon. Just hold on, okay?"
Her exhausted grin broke his heart. In the dirt beside her, he saw the remnants of the soup they'd eaten at the church. It was speckled with blood.
He pulled Stacy to her feet and wrapped an arm around her waist. It took her a few minutes to get her balance; she was so incredibly weak. When he was sure she wouldn't topple over, he removed his arm.
"See? Not so bad, right?"
She wrinkled her nose and shrugged. "I've been better."
"A little more, babe. That's all I ask."
"I'd kill for a hot shower right now," she giggled.
Eric watched them. He was glad Stacy was okay, but he knew what was going to happen if he didn't figure something out soon. He'd witnessed so much evil, so much pain. The simple act of Geoff lovingly caressing Stacy's arm was enough to give the boy hope, but at the same time, it filled him with insurmountable emptiness. He had no one, and there was nothing he could do to change that. His death had given life to others; that had to be enough.
"Earth to Eric." Geoff snapped his fingers in front of the boy's face and laughed at his startled expression.
Eric smirked. "You know, my friend Danny used to say that to me all the time."
"So you've always been a space cadet?"
"Yeah," he laughed. "I guess so."
Geoff put an arm around the boy's shoulders and squeezed him tightly.
It was just about the best feeling in the world.
For now, Eric wasn't alone.
***
This Elmview reeked of smoke and rotting flesh.
Whatever had happened here had happened recently. Geoff stared into every open doorway, expecting something to bolt out and grab them.
Is this what it's like for him? Geoff thought. Living the same end over and over again? Watching his home be destroyed and jumping at every shadow?
It was a wonder Eric had maintained any of his sanity as he watched the same movie play out on repeat. A hundred times? A million? All alone, walking abandone
d streets, holding on to the few memories he had of his old life.
Somehow, this Elmview was the worst. It was still fresh. Judging by the vehicles that choked the town's intersections, Geoff was willing to guess this version of Elmview was very close to the timeline they'd left behind. Although the cursed town had met its end in 1986, here it had lived on for decades. It made him feel empty. No matter what happens, the Skryel always returns to exact its price, fueled by its personal vendetta against the human race.
Somehow this small town in Anywhere, USA had become its target. Eric and his friends had stopped the demon in its tracks; it was a loss the Skryel wouldn't soon forget.
Once they entered the town proper, the smell of corruption grew tenfold. The sign he'd seen at the town's entrance - THE END - couldn't be closer to the truth. Bodies dangled from light poles up and the down the entire length of the main street. Crows squawked and danced on the power lines, taking turns pecking away at the rotting flesh of those hanging there. Some of the corpses were still fresh enough to drip blood and sour-smelling fluid into the street below.
Smoke drifted lazily into a clear, blue sky from dozens of burning vehicles; entire rows of houses had been reduced to ash.
"Looks like we missed one hell of a party," Geoff said.
"Good thing we did, or we'd be the first ones hanging from the telephone poles."
Just as Eric spoke, the streetlights came on, bathing the carnage in an orange glow. This Elmview still had power. Somehow it made it even sadder.
"What are we doing here, Eric? I mean, how long do we have to run before we can go back home?"
"When the Skryel has been stopped, the world will be safe for a little while."
"Stopped? How the hell are we supposed to stop it? I know you have some practice, but I don't want to turn out like you. No offense."
Stacy limped along beside them, pausing every few seconds to inspect items she found along the street: a child's tricycle, a pair of scuffed running shoes, a dog's rawhide bone, a dismembered arm still wearing a silver bracelet around its sun-baked wrist. She looked at each of them with the same blank stare as if reading a book written in an unfamiliar language. Eric saw Geoff watching her and frowned. How many had to be ruined before this was over?
The Traveler (The Great Rift Book 2) Page 16