by Ike Hamill
He rushed through the end of the Ceremony and sat back. He was supposed to witness a gathering purple flame—the King’s Flame. As he sat there, the moon began to touch the trees on the distant hill. Ricky sighed. For a moment, he had felt something. Maybe it was a childish superstition, but it had been something. He hoped that it had affected him enough that the reverence would come out in his act. At least he had tried. Ricky put everything back where it was supposed to be and waited for the wax of his candles to cool.
The moon finally dropped below the hill. Ricky still saw its glow on the clouds. He tried to internalize the quiet menace of the place. If he could somehow embody the same potential energy of the fall sky, he knew that he could captivate people. He needed the audience to feel the same way that he did in that moment. They needed to fear him just a little.
He whispered one of the passages that he remembered from Ceremony. The words sounded silly at first. Ricky repeated the syllables again. He rejected his skepticism and refused to hear the sounds as silly. He closed his eyes and let his voice boom as he repeated the passage a third time. Their power filled him and warmed his core.
Ricky smiled.
Chapter 51 : Hilliard
[ Walk ]
SEVEN MONTHS BEFORE THE Monster
As far as Chelsea Hilliard was concerned, people could take the rest of the seasons and stick them on a rocket ship bound for Mars. If possible, she would live the rest of her days in a perpetual state of late autumn. It was perfect. The air was chilly and so crisp that it seemed to shimmer in her wake. The leaves were gone, taking all the pesky Leaf Peepers with them. The sun was warm, but low in the sky and unthreatening. She didn’t even have to worry about sunscreen.
Chelsea closed her eyes as she walked, simply enjoying the perfect morning.
“Hey, neighbor!” a woman’s voice called.
Chelsea opened her eyes reluctantly. She recognized the voice at roughly the same time that she spotted the woman. It was Peg something-or-other. She was a relative newcomer to the town and she had a ridiculous last name that Chelsea hadn’t bothered to memorize.
Chelsea raised her hand and hoped that would be the last of the encounter.
It wasn’t. Peg crossed the country road and fell in alongside her. She matched Chelsea’s fast stride. The woman was older, but pretty well put together. Chelsea figured she was in decent shape, or else she wouldn’t have kept up so easily. Not many could keep up with Chelsea when she was really moving.
“I thought I would head down to Springbucks’,” Peg said. “I’ve heard they acquired an O’Keeffe.”
Chelsea offered a smile and nothing more. She hoped that her silence would be contagious.
“How’s the family?” Peg asked.
“They’re fine,” Chelsea said. She hadn’t meant to respond, but the question had tickled her intuition. Peg was older than Kirk’s typical prey, but maybe… Chelsea frowned at the thought. Someone had told her that Peg was a switch hitter. She wasn’t sure she believed it, but the notion was enough to cast doubt on the idea that Peg was sleeping with her husband.
“That’s good. I hear it’s going to be a long and cold winter.”
“We can hope,” Chelsea said.
Peg chuckled even though she couldn’t have known the reason for the comment. Kirk didn’t make it public that he had a stake in a couple of the local heating oil distributors. People hated the idea that someone was profiting from the sale of heating oil. They seemed to consider heat to be a basic human right or something.
“I heard that Claire Dawn is going to hold an auction from her attic after New Year’s,” Peg said.
As far as Chelsea was concerned, this was the first interesting thing that Peg had ever said in her life. There were a million swirling rumors about the things stored in that attic. Claire was as old as time, and supposedly her grandfather had collected some amazing pieces down in Boston in the late nineteenth century. If the rumors were true, an auction would be an incredible opportunity to find some legitimate treasures.
“Is she holding it herself?” Chelsea asked. She was practically salivating.
Peg stopped.
“Did you hear that?”
“What?”
Peg was already starting to walk up the driveway of the A-frame. Chelsea looked up towards her own house. Her phone was just up the road. With that, she could track down this rumor of the auction and figure out her game plan. But she had to wonder what the hell Peg thought she was doing.
“Excuse me,” Chelsea said. Peg was already halfway to the house. There was nobody living there, of course. The owners barely showed up for summer anymore. Most of the time, the grand house stood empty. Its beautiful views were enjoyed by nobody.
Chelsea started up the driveway as Peg knocked on the door.
“There’s nobody home,” Chelsea called.
As Peg knocked, the door swung inwards. Chelsea trotted to catch up as Peg stepped inside.
“There shouldn’t be anyone home,” Chelsea called.
Chelsea advanced to the doorway and saw Peg leaning over the balcony, looking down at the floor below. Chelsea was filled with nervous excitement, but she wanted to get out of there. Kirk always said that nobody had a house like that unless they were crooked.
Crooked people had security systems and cameras. Crooked people didn’t like intruders.
“What are you doing?” she asked Peg. “Get out of there.” She took a step forward and realized that she didn’t have any responsibility for Peg What’s-her-name. She could just leave the woman there. Chelsea turned back towards the door and was startled to see that it was swinging shut.
[ Memory ]
Chelsea was practically panting. She never got that tired from walking. Maybe walking alongside Peg was good. Maybe she had pushed herself.
“Isn’t this you?” Peg asked.
Chelsea looked up and realized that she had nearly walked right by her own house.
“Oh. Yes,” Chelsea said.
She turned towards her own driveway and took a step.
“Wait,” she said, turning back towards Peg.
The older woman raised her eyebrows and stood there, looking at her.
“Didn’t we…” Chelsea started. She trailed off. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what she was going to ask. It was like there was a hole in her brain where the question should be. She tried to piece together the morning. She had gone for a walk, met up with Peg, walked for a bit, and then… There was something tickling the back of her brain, but she couldn’t put any words to it.
“Oh!” Chelsea said. “The auction! Who told you about that?”
It was Peg’s turn to look confused. Peg glanced around and rolled her tongue in her mouth, like she was trying to identify a peculiar taste.
“Auction.”
“Claire?”
“Oh, yes. It was something The Girls said.”
“Oh,” Chelsea said, frowning. Those women made up rumors all the time. “Thanks.”
Without saying goodbye, Chelsea turned towards her house again. She started walking. She glanced back once and saw that Peg had resumed walking as well.
Chapter 52 : Hazard
[ Package ]
FIVE MONTHS BEFORE THE Monster
“I’ll take it,” Wendy said. “I have to go to the bank anyway.”
“Are you sure?” Bruce asked. “It can probably wait until tomorrow. I don’t think anyone stays in that house during the winter. In fact, it might be best if we just send it back.”
Wendy shrugged. She looked down at the little box. The address was clearly marked. There should have been no reason for the UPS guy to drop if off at their house instead of the place up the road, where it belonged.
“Who knows,” she said. “Maybe someone is there and they’re waiting for this.”
Bruce nodded.
Wendy put on her jacket and gloves. She wrapped her scarf around her neck before she put on her hood. The wind had finally died down, b
ut it had left behind a biting cold. Some of the locals said that they couldn’t remember a winter that cold. Wendy always figured they were exaggerating. The swings in temperature were extreme in their part of the world, and the difference between August and February was hard to imagine. That kind of shift seemed to make people stretch the truth when they assessed the current conditions.
She climbed into her car and set the package on the passenger’s seat. Wendy waved to Trina, who was pulling in just as Wendy was pulling out.
The tires crunched the new snow on the way up the driveway. It was a short trip up the road to the house where the package belonged. Wendy felt vindicated as she rolled up the driveway. There were footprints in the fresh powder. The prints led from the woods, across the yard, and to the front door. Clearly someone was home after all.
Wendy left the car running and grabbed the package.
She slowed as she approached. A new thought nearly stopped her in her tracks. In fact, it was about tracks. The footprints led up to the house, but where had they come from? They seemed to originate in the woods and go up to the front door. Wendy shrugged and started walking again. The rational explanation was that someone had gone out through a back door and then circled the house through the woods. There was nothing mysterious about that.
The front door was open—just a crack.
Wendy lifted a wary hand and knocked.
The door opened immediately. The woman standing there was also wearing a winter coat.
“Wendy?” the woman asked.
Wendy pointed with a hand holding the package. “Mary, right?”
“Right,” Mary Dunn said. “Did you hear it too?”
Wendy held up the package. “I’m just here to deliver this. They left it at our house by mistake.”
“Oh,” Mary said. “We were down on the lake—my son and I—and I heard a noise up here. He’s minding the lines and I was checking out the noise. The door was open.”
“Oh,” Wendy said. She looked down at the package in her hands. “I’ll just leave this here.”
They both heard the noise. The sound wasn’t words, but it was still understandable in a weird way. It was a call for help. It was a plea from a child. Wendy took a step forward before she even knew that she intended to respond. Mary was already moving across the foyer. Wendy was inside, still holding the package, when the door swung shut.
[ Bank ]
Wendy’s hands were on the wheel. She blinked at them. The car was far too warm for her to have her hood up and scarf on. She took them both off before she put the car in reverse and began to back away from the A-frame house. Something caught her eye before she backed out onto the road. There were footprints leading to the front door.
She paused for a second, her foot planted on the brake pedal, and then nodded. Of course there were footprints. She had left the package on the porch.
Inside? Had she left it inside?
No, of course not. How would she get inside?
Wendy turned her car towards the bank and got going.
Chapter 53 : Yettin
[ Winter ]
FOUR MONTHS BEFORE THE Monster
Harold knocked again. He shifted the plastic bags over to his other hand—the hand with the glove. They were much easier to hold that way. He was thinking about the refrigerator. When the new refrigerator had come, he hadn’t seen much choice. They had put it to the left of the cabinets, and that blocked the internal stairway that connected his niece’s apartment to his house. For years, the arrangement had worked just fine. It’s not like he needed to be able to get into his niece’s place without going outside.
Now that she was…
Harold couldn’t think of a word that was appropriate. She wasn’t crazy. He wouldn’t even let himself think that word. She was sick—temporarily sick.
Now that she was temporarily sick, it might be time to retire the large refrigerator and reopen the interior staircase. It would make it easier for him to take care of her. He might even want to permanently reconnect the apartment with the rest of the house. It might be necessary if her condition turned out to be less than temporary.
He gave up on knocking and dug out his key ring. He still had a key to her place. As he slid it in, he realized he didn’t need it.
“April?” he called, opening the door. She was on the floor of her kitchen. Books were spread around her. It was freezing in there.
She didn’t look up as he set her groceries on the table.
“How come you didn’t answer the door?”
She still didn’t look up. The room was silent except for the sound of Harold taking the items out of the plastic grocery bag and setting them on the table. She flipped a page in the book she was studying.
“You should have told me that you went deaf. I could have taken you in to see Dr. Purdy,” he said.
She flipped another page.
Harold gathered the milk, butter, cheese, and salad. He headed for the refrigerator that he was going to have to move. It was a giant ordeal to get it up there. He would probably have to hire ten guys to come over and help him get it out. Harold put away the groceries and turned back towards the table.
When Harold saw her face for the first time, he dropped to his knees.
“April,” he breathed.
She finally looked up at him.
There were no whites to her eyes. The area around each iris was blood red. He saw foam leaking from the corner of her mouth and dripping from her nose.
“April?” he cried, crawling towards her. When she looked down at the book again, a bloody tear escaped her eye and hit the page. Harold reached and took her hand.
She barked a short scream and blinked down at his hand.
“April, what happened?”
She chewed the air and worked her tongue before she could speak. April grunted. Harold didn’t expect much from her. He was careful to keep his expectations in check, just like the doctor had said. He put no pressure on her to get better. But this new development was almost more than he could handle. Was this how his niece was going to be from now on? Was she a senseless, drooling creature with blood-filled eyes?
“We’ll get you to the doctor. He’ll know what to do.”
April shook her head. “He has been called.”
“Who? You called the doctor already?”
She still shook her head. “The ancient ones don’t have names, Uncle Harold. The caller is the only one who can control them, and the first thing the demons do is hypnotize the one who called. It’s a perfect circle.”
April raised a finger and drew a circle in the air.
Harold looked down at the book she was reading. It was the same one that he had loaned to Ricky. The young man must have brought it back.
“Come,” Harold said. “We have to get you to the doctor.”
“He’ll come for us all, Uncle Harold, but his minions will prepare and harvest first. Then he will rise.”
“Come on, darling. We’ll get you help, okay?”
Harold wanted to believe that the doctor would help, but he could easily picture Dr. Purdy’s frown. That frown meant that this was yet another development that Harold was going to have to learn to live with.
Still, he had to try.
Chapter 54 : Oberheim
[ Circle ]
ONE MONTH BEFORE THE Monster
Les Oberheim pulled down the driveway slowly and glanced at his wife. He was waiting for her to say it. She always said the same thing when they returned to their beautiful summer house. She wasn’t even looking. Evelyn was digging through her bag.
He tapped the brakes. She finally looked up.
Les raised his hand and his eyebrows in a silent question.
“Yes, it’s beautiful. Can you pull up? I’m not feeling well.”
Les pulled up and stopped the car.
“You said, ‘Don’t ever let me forget,’” he said. She was already getting out of the car. “‘How lucky we are to have such a wonderful getaway,’
you said.”
“I’m not feeling well,” she said. Evelyn marched towards the door and barely took time to inspect the lawn and landscaping. She always loved to review the condition of the place when they arrived. The new kid, Cormier, had done a pretty good job as far as Les could see. Evelyn didn’t care.
“The door’s open,” she called.
Les sighed. So much for the Cormier kid. He would have to talk to him about the basic rules of the road if the kid wanted to resume his care-taking duties next fall. Les opened the trunk and pulled out their bags. They kept a full wardrobe in the A-frame house, but they always seemed to have full suitcases whenever they arrived to their summer home. He closed the trunk with his elbow and grunted as he tried to lift both bags at the same time. It wasn’t going to be long before he wouldn’t be carrying two bags at once.
Les thought about the staircase inside the house. It wouldn’t be long before that would be a hassle as well. They didn’t have any stairs down in their Florida home. Everything down there was flat. It was harder to fall down when everything was flat.
His arms were burning by the time he shuffled the bags through the door.
The light on the security system was green. Either the Cormier kid had left it disabled or Evi had keyed it in.
Les filled his lungs with the smell of the house. The fragrance was of old stone, polished wood, and sunshine. It reminded him of sitting by the lake until his skin was burned and tender. He could almost hear the grandkids laughing as they ran down the dock and jumped off the end. This place had been their refuge from the world as his career had wound down and their kids were making their own lives. It was a symbol of the good life—the life he had worked so hard to achieve.