by Aiden James
Evelyn chastised herself for underestimating the depth of the demon’s anger, and its unquenchable thirst for revenge. She also feared for the excavation teams from UT, along with Peter Kirkland. Walter Pollack had already been murdered. She could still hear the professors’ disdain, calling her warnings to suspend the project a ‘self-serving crusade’. She lamented her unwillingness to fight harder, ignoring the initial dread that had overwhelmed her in November.
“Let-t-t-t… me-e-e-e … i-n-n-n-s-s-i-i-i-d-d-d-de!!”
The voice turned raspier, reminding her of the great blues singers of the 1940s that her grandfather, ‘Spotted Wolf’, John’s father, preferred to listen to when she was a young girl, shortly before he passed on to the other side.
“Get the hell away from here!!” she responded, stern. She bravely moved through the living room with her eyes closed and arms folded across her chest. Guided by her mind’s eye and her gut instincts, she followed an invisible corkscrew trail that widened toward the room’s parameter.
The voice chuckled, as if amused by her determination to not give in—to stand her ground. In response, she resumed the Native American chant used earlier, retracing her steps from a moment ago and then repeating the entire process anew.
As it had the night before, the entity launched a derisive tirade at Evelyn, shrieking madly with a strange mixture of taunts in several languages thrown simultaneous at her. She sought to locate the spiritual vortex that allowed the anisgina to sneak in here undetected. It was too damned easy…. If she could push the spirit out and permanently close this doorway, the cabin could be a safe haven once more.
“Anagisdi Utsatina!”
She uttered the command evenly, careful to focus all of her energy through her mouth and chest as she spoke the words. If she hadn’t made it clear to the spirit before, her command to ‘Go Away!’ better be understood now.
The response immediate, a tremor swept through the cabin, and every shiny surface in the cabin shook—whether actual mirrors or mirrored objects. A misty image began to form within the stainless steel surface of the gas stove, and when she glanced at the large mirror on the wall next to the front window, another similar image emerged. She watched in terror as the image solidified. The garish wraith of a Cherokee warrior gazed menacingly, its eye sockets soulless, empty black holes.
“Oh, Shit-t-t!!”
“Ulisgolvtanv Itsula ayv Hawinaditlv!” Let us in!
Evelyn couldn’t move, torn between fleeing the cabin and holding her ground long enough to find some way to keep the spirits out. Surprised there were more than one, until now she only sensed the main menace. Her intuitions always provided the upper hand when needed. But now she didn’t know what to do next—what other threat awaited her inside this breached fortress?
“Ulisgolvtanv Itsula ayv Hawinaditlv!!”
A swirling chorus of voices resounded in unison from inside the cabin. Evelyn’s knees grew weak and she thought she would collapse at any moment. But suddenly, her guides touched her, if only long enough to deliver a brief image to her terrified mind.
Cover the mirrors. Do it now!
With Shawn staying close to her side, she ran to the other side of the fireplace and down the hallway to the linen closet. Ignoring the growing din around her, she grabbed a handful of blankets and towels large enough to cover every mirrored surface in the cabin. Moving to cover each one, she started in the living room since the warrior in that mirror seemed the angriest, and had escalated its threats to include graphic details of how it would tear her tongue out and slowly gouge her eyes, clearing her sockets with its bloody knife until they looked like his. This spirit’s taunts continued until she had completely veiled the mirror with an afghan her grandmother knitted long ago.
Taking courage from this first conquest, she moved through the kitchen and the rest of the main floor, covering every reflective surface—including all three televisions—before climbing the stairs to the last mirror in the loft. As soon as she covered the mirror’s surface, the verbal threats stopped. Nothing more happened until after she returned downstairs.
When she poured herself a glass of wine from the kitchen, she became aware of yet another noise. This one more familiar, different than anything she recently endured, but also one that occurred this past weekend, during her and Hanna’s first night with their grandfather.
It probably started before she even picked up the bottle of Merlot, or the distant whistle may have been too subtle for Evelyn’s tired mind to pick up. Or, maybe her psyche filtered the sound in an instinctive attempt at self-preservation. Regardless, once whatever caused this noise cleared the tree line of the northern forest bordering John Running Deer’s property, it grew much louder. The thing that sounded like an immense swarm of angry hornets descended upon the cabin, slamming into walls and roof like an ungodly hailstorm tearing away slats and shingles.
She immediately grabbed Shawn and moved into the hallway, the safest place within the cabin should a tornado ever strike—and this certainly qualified as one in her mind.
“Stay with me, boy,” Evelyn told him, as he tried to run into the living room and his preferred spot behind the couch. “It will pass. We’ll be safe—I promise!”
Similar to the previous assaults on the cabin’s structure, this one finally waned in strength. When it did, she led Shawn back into the living room, where they both sat on the floor next to the fire, looking around, anxious. Every creak in the fifty-year old structure drew a fearful glance.
Amused by their vigil, the sexless voice returned, cackling gleeful just below the ceiling.
“Ah-h-h, poor Evelyn! Po-o-r-r-r Two Doves Ris-s-s-i-in-g-g!! You’re mi-i-i-ne-e-e!! This place can not protect you… leave with me NOW-W-W!!!”
“NO!!” she shouted back at the invisible presence, mustering her courage despite weariness from the spirit’s endless antagonism. “Get the hell out of here!!”
“Kstaquadu ‘ga, Tali Wo:-ya Alisaladisgv!!!” ~ Go with me, Two Doves Rising!!!
“Adanvsdi Ayv Uwasv!” Evelyn held her ground in telling the entity to leave her alone, despite the hysterics that threatened to overtake her at any moment.
“KSTAQUADU ‘GA!!!” The anisgina’s anger at being defied was immediate. Its voice much deeper, it thundered like a Vulcan god determined to enforce its will.
“NO-O-O!!!... Just go away—PLEASE!!!” she cried, cowering on the floor beside the fireplace, while Shawn hovered nearby, snarling at what he could detect better than her. His gaze remained trained on the spirit’s otherwise invisible path as it moved through the air above. “Just GO!!… Please, PLEASE, leave me alone!!!”
Exhausted physically, spiritually, and definitely emotionally, she wept upon the cabin’s cold wooden floor, no longer listening to the escalated threats from the spirit that drew nearer to her. Nor did she acknowledge its cackled laughter and gleeful digs at her current state once it realized she had reached the breaking point of what she could withstand.
It seemed like at least an hour, though the exact period of time remained a mystery to her. The entity’s taunts eventually faded, becoming infrequent, and dissolved altogether when the doorbell rang. Startled, she sat up and looked toward the door. Shawn, too, sat up, barking loud as he approached the door, though unlike before his tail wagged. Two shadowed figures stood near the front door, one trying to peer inside the cabin through the front window, while the other figure, shorter, waited for the first one to rejoin it by the door.
Evelyn prepared for another ploy by the entity and its attendant spirits, moving into the kitchen where she grabbed a long carving knife—wondering at the same time what good it would do if the visitors weren’t of this world. It couldn’t hurt if it turned out they were.
Armed and ready, she stepped up to the door, and when she peered through the peephole, she frowned. Shawn’s barks even more excited, Evelyn offered one last prayer for protection. She then cautiously opened the door.
Chapter Twenty-seven
> “You know...this could wait until tomorrow morning.”
David looked over at Miriam. Her attention glued to the dim road before the Odyssey, she barely acknowledged his words. She squinted in a concerted effort to see through snow flurries that had steadily picked up since they left Gatlinburg and entered the main drive that runs through the Smoky Mountains National Park. When they watched the Weather Channel back at the chalet, the local report called for six to ten inches of new snowfall by morning.
Even Ruth had suggested they wait until daytime to make the trek. But the strange coolness that had taken over Miriam’s persona last night emerged again, easily pushing aside her warmth and more demur nature. It made David’s aunt do a double take, as until that moment, only David and the kids had witnessed the sternness so unlike her.
This gave David the first inkling that her reaction and suspicion from the night before, in regard to his response to Evelyn Sherman, was a little more than just a jealous whim. The thought became reinforced less than half an hour ago, when she insisted on driving tonight to John Running Deer’s cabin—even after several fresh attempts to call Evelyn failed to get past severe static or an annoying fast-busy signal.
“It’s too late to turn back,” Miriam advised, tersely.
He loathed her attitude, but fought the temptation to linger long on it. After all, in his mind she’d always be the love of his life…he just hoped that life with her would be lovable again, and soon. If he could just cut out the past twenty-four hours, including the phone call from Evelyn that started this whole uncomfortable business in the first place, nirvana or at least some semblance of peace and maybe even normalcy would be back in his life sooner than soon.
She paused to look over at him, her smirk making him think that his thoughts were an open book to her.
“Evelyn sounded like she couldn’t wait much longer, remember?”
Miriam’s tone now? A strange mixture of concern, aloofness, and sarcasm. Likely the end result of a long day that began at the crack of dawn, with a hefty dose of stress and a lack of sleep. Coupled with the phone conversation she alluded to from the night before…. He recognized the wisdom in keeping whatever snide comeback that begged to burst out of his mouth in check. Better to go along with her plan for tonight’s visit to John Running Deer’s cabin and wait to see how everything shakes out.
David reflected on how the evening had started. Everyone enjoyed the rib-eye steaks he prepared on the chalet’s Jenn-aire grill. Miriam helped him prepare everything else, and they had even paused to nuzzle and kiss for a moment while setting the dinner table together.
The mood began to change right after the evening meal, when Christopher wanted to go outside on the deck with Tyler. Jillian offered to join them, but then Tyler declined. He lashed out at his younger siblings as if the suggestion was instead an invitation to jump into a barrel of burning horseshit.
Ruth seemed aware of the potentially volatile confrontation brewing between the children, as well as Tyler’s terror. Despite the frightening incidents that took place back in Littleton the past weekend, this was the first time she’d witnessed such a combination of unabashed anger and dire fear in any of the kids. Certainly, the entity’s wiles brought about similar trepidation before…but nothing as profound as the current mood that threatened to suffocate her eldest grandnephew—at least not in her presence.
It made David very uncomfortable leaving them alone in the chalet tonight. Tyler never revealed what unsettled him so, which by itself made his dad reflect on the similarities between this situation and what happened in October. Miriam normally would be the first one to take on the protective parental role. This time, however, she merely told her son to remain brave until she and David returned home from their trip. She also mentioned they might not get back until the next morning, and then had David hurriedly pack an overnight bag for them while she took a moment to comfort the kids.
“Hopefully Evelyn’s actually at the cabin when we get there,” said David, his tone reserved, unsure how to approach anything that dealt with John’s eldest granddaughter.
Luckily this time Miriam’s response was a positive nod to affirm she hoped the same thing.
“So, you do remember how to get there, right?” she asked.
The road into the park had become increasingly icy, and it surprised David it was even open. He noticed the barred gates on either side of the narrow highway, which could be closed at any time, upon their arrival at the park’s entrance. Of course, the road runs all the way through to North Carolina, so closing it would present problems for other travelers relying on the thoroughfare to get them to the other side of the Great Smokies. Still, he preferred traveling along this lonely stretch in the safer light of day. No use arguing that point now.
“The dirt road we’ll turn on is coming up ahead…right around this bend. I think.”
He joined her in squinting to better see through the windshield, peering into the thick darkness. The headlights provided only faint illumination of the forest tonight.
“What do you mean by ‘I think’?” This time her response seemed more worried than sarcastic. “You said you remembered how to get there!”
“Yeah, I do remember,” he replied, determined to remain calm and not be drawn into an argument he would surely lose—either factually or emotionally, and frankly either way just as bad. “But, that was in the full light of day, when I can actually see the landmarks that point to the correct road.”
“That’s just frigging great!” she whispered, harsh, shaking her head while she leaned her face closer to the windshield.
He did the same, patting her arm once he thought he saw something familiar in the headlight beams’ glow.
“There—that’s it.”
“Are you sure—what the hell??”
A sudden gust of wind slammed into the Odyssey, almost pushing them off the road. Surprised, Miriam let out a frightened gasp and briefly lost control on the pavement’s slick surface. The vehicle careened from side to side and swerved into a shallow ditch on the right side of the road. They both were jerked forward in their seats.
“Are you okay?” he asked, gently this time, turning on the front dome light.
She looked okay, though a little unnerved. He motioned to take over for the rest of the trip, but she waved him off.
“I’m fine,” she said, her tone abrasive. But the glance she shot him was softened, like she realized her tone was a severe response to his kind gesture. “I should be okay…as long as we’re getting close to John’s cabin.”
“It’s just ahead…beyond that advisory sign,” said David, pointing to the snow-covered signboard detailing the mileage to several park destinations, including Cades Cove. “You’ll turn right and it’s just a few miles south of here.”
She responded to his confidence, and began to pull out of the ditch and back onto the road. The back right tire was stuck, spinning freely while sending a shower of muddy snow and ice behind the van. Despite trying to maneuver the gears back and forth in drive and reverse, the vehicle stayed put.
“Let me get out there and push,” he suggested. “Just keep an eye out for my signal on when to gun it”
He didn’t wait for her reply, knowing there was no other way out of this situation. Hell, it wasn’t like they could count on a park ranger or patrol officer to help them at this late hour. And if one showed up, he figured a cop would just as likely hand out a ticket or arrest them on the spot for being on restricted park property.
He stepped out of the vehicle, zipping up his parka when another chilled gust greeted him. Tricky footing, he made it to the back of the minivan without landing on his ass. The right side of the Odyssey’s back end leaned over the ditch, leaving the tire barely visible. David motioned to Miriam while she watched him from her side-view mirror, and he began to rock the rear while she hit the gas in rhythm with his efforts.
It took a few minutes to finally make some progress while being careful not to drive the
tire any deeper into the rut. Their surroundings desolate and creepy, it started getting colder...especially noticeable when the wind picked up again.
He became aware of footsteps crunching through the snow, approaching the minivan from the deep shadows on the other side of the road. He saw Miriam’s attention drawn to the noise as well, since she had the driver-side window rolled down in order to better communicate with him.
“Why-y-y-y are ya here, Billy-y-y Ra-a-y-y-y?”
The voice sounded hollow and at the same time weirdly sultry…an unsettling combination. Familiar, and one he hoped to never, ever hear again after what happened two months ago. Allie Mae McCormick.
“Why-y-y-y did ya come back, again-n-n-n??”
This time, the voice sounded less sultry and more menacing, its owner perturbed.
“David—get back in here! Hurry!!”
Miriam’s urgency spurred him on. One good push should do it. One last—.
“Go ba-a-ck-k!!…back to yer home, Billy Ray-y-y-y!!!”
It sounded like the invisible owner of the voice now hovered in the middle of the road. But then creaking ice on the road warned of footsteps coming closer...toward the back of the Odyssey where he pushed with all of his might to get the damned thing back on the road.
“Gun it, Miriam! Floor the van now!!”
Bravely, he ignored the encroaching frigid presence while Miriam hollered ‘I am!!’ in response to his gruff command.
“Le-e-e-av-v-v-ve h-e-r-r-e-e NOW-W-W!!!!” the spirit suddenly shrieked in his ear.
David recoiled, but seeing the tire finally grip a patch of earth below the snow and climb out of the ditch, he gave it one last push before scurrying back to the passenger side door, swinging it open and jumping inside the Caravan. Before he closed the door, he leaned his head out through the doorway, facing the icy presence that pursued him stealthily from the rear of the vehicle.