by J M Hart
“Call your mom, Tim,” Kevin said, “and tell her to put it on speaker.” The sound of the phone ringing was a strange sense of normalcy.
“Dad.”
“K, not now.”
“Dad, shake that thing off, you have to get closer, bumper to bumper. Or you won’t be able to follow. I’m not —” The reception was lost. Kevin had no choice but to focus on the road out front, where translucent waves, a mirage, started to appear.
“What now?” Callie shouted. She butted her nose up against the windscreen and saw a sinkhole was opening, growing, in front of them. She started to slow and search for another way. Molly’s screaming filled her head. Callie glanced into the rear-vision mirror. “Kevin! Quieten her down.”
“No! Go straight for it!” Jade said. She leant over the gearstick and grabbed Callie’s leg, pushing it down onto the accelerator.
“What? Stop it! Don’t be foolish, we’ll all die.”
Tim pulled faces at Molly in vain. She couldn’t be distracted. He looked behind him to see where his mom and Daniel were. They were still trying to shake the swarm. “Come on, K, you can do it.”
Kevin was breaking out in a sweat and his face became red, his eyes sparked. There was no time for the car to brake or swerve. This time his mom would have no choice but to floor it, and hope they could jump the sinkhole. The car went straight up and hovered over and into the mirage. Kevin felt Jade’s vertigo and anxiety vanish. He heard Molly stop crying and Tim’s panic dissolve. Everything went quiet. They should have been alarmed, but they only felt peace.
They all thought they were on their way to the pearly gates, soon to see a bright light. The nose of the car tilted downward. They braced for impact, the world came alive, and the car dived into the dirt and gravel. Its back wheels thumbed the ground and the car slid out of control, sliding down the blue metal drive, straight for the veranda.
Kevin glimpsed behind. The doorway was getting smaller.
*
Shaun braced himself against the leather seat in front and screamed in pain. Kath unlocked her seat belt and fastened his. Shaun felt feverish as every muscle in his body screamed with panic. He couldn’t take his eyes off the beast. Everyone was freaking, he couldn’t concentrate, his senses were locked on the entity. He knew he had seen it before in his dreams. It collapsed into a thousand mirrored pieces and headed towards them. Daniel was doing his best to shake it off, but Shaun knew they, he, had no hope of escaping this time. He was no longer an innocent boy. This is Dad’s doing, he thought. The memory of that night ten years ago came flooding back along with all the bad feelings, as if he was a kid again.
He understood his dad had violated his trust, and the trust of so many people, for some non-existent magical cure for his mom. He had loved his mother more than anything. He had prayed for her day and night to be healed. But what his dad did, whatever it was that he unearthed that night, seemed to be causing the extinction of humanity. The explosion, the plane to Egypt, the drug-induced flight, and the memories returned — the Russian in the palace. Everything had seemed so strange at the time. The dreams, the girl, finally it made some sense. It was her all along: Rachel. If only he could go back and stop his dad.
Shaun quickly turned away and faced front. The Dodge disappeared into thin air, just like Kevin and Tim had vanished at the river. What the hell? The swarm was descending again. Daniel swerved left then right in quick jerks.
A thousand vile angels swarmed behind the tail of the car. The swarm united, forming into one gigantic beast, stopping and sniffing the air as if searching for its prey. Filled with fury it turned from side to side in a rage. Its serrated tail sliced through the buildings and the people behind them on the streets. It shrieked and took off in flight.
The devil was enriched; his army of death was free to hunt. It exploded into a swarm of a thousand micro-beasts again, heading for the car. Sharp claws dragged along the boot of the car. Kath covered her ears, trying to block out the high-pitched screeches. Shaun saw the demons suddenly vanish behind them. The feeling of flying overcame him, and he relaxed. Every muscle, every cell was infused with light and peace. His burning hands cooled, the pain gone. He was in slow motion, gazing over his shoulder through the rear window, searching for the swarm, and saw a horizon of green and blue mountains stretching to the ocean. As suddenly as it had begun, the floating sensation ceased, and the car fell from the sky. Shaun’s body became heavy, and he was aware once again of the metal cage around them. The car landed heavily. Shaun’s neck whipped back and his head smashed into the side window as the car slid along the gravel slamming into the rear of the Dodge. Hidden under a few layers of dust, the cars became one piece of metal beside the grazing cow.
9
Labyrinth of darkness: Casey. England.
Sophia, are you there? Casey thought. Lying on the cold dirt floor on his back with his head resting on Terry’s leg, Casey stared into the darkness. The chamber was musty. The air was stale. Terry was propped up against the cold stone wall and Amy leant against his shoulder. He could feel Terry playing with his curls; he wouldn’t admit it out loud in a million years but Casey actually found it soothing. He shouted louder inside his head, Sophia, are you there? and Amy jumped a little. Casey was worried about Sophia because this had been the biggest gap between communications. Maybe I could dream about her. After sealing them in, he had tried again and again to break the wall down so they could get back into the house.
Amy had suggested they should just rest a while so he could build up his strength. “It will come when you’re ready. You used a lot of energy in the forest beforehand. It might be best that we stay here and not go rushing back upstairs, for a while anyway.”
Casey felt pressure building on his bladder. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, directing his thoughts to his mom, her smile, the sound of her laughter and the smell of her perfume; he inhaled deeply to imagine the scent. Sometimes he felt so lost without her. She would have liked Sophia — and Terry and Amy. His bladder was becoming so uncomfortable his eyes flew open and he desperately looked for a place to relieve himself. How long had they been here? Two hours at least, he thought, looking back at the wall. He saw a shadow out of the corner of his eye; something was moving towards him. He closed his eyes, ignoring his bladder. He felt the presence getting closer and the darkness behind his eyes became intense. Internally, he tried to move away from the presence, slipping further away from his body, hiding in Terry’s aura. He sensed it looking closely into his face, trying to see if he was awake. He kept as still as possible and felt like he was floating out in space. His heart was racing, but his breathing was relaxed as if in sleep. A breath crossed his face, and he nearly yanked himself out of hiding. He heard a voice in his head. His palms were sweaty. He disengaged from the separation of his body, feeling the intensity of the darkness move away. He allowed himself to float closer to the surface and open his stubborn eyes a crack. An apparition of an old man with ginger hair and a scruffy beard down to his chest, wearing a brown robe with a sash had disappeared into the wall. Casey’s fear evaporated. He focused on the wall again and it moved like a Chinese block puzzle; he shuffled the bricks, restacking them. Casey slowly sat up, watching them move left-right and up-down. He reached out his hand to hold them and they succumbed to his energy. I’m back. Without touching them or moving from Terry’s side he laid the bricks on the ground. He could hear the trunks sliding along the wall.
Terry and Amy were up on their feet beside him, motivated to step into the opening and back into the basement.
“What do you think, Terry?” Amy said. “Do you think it’s safe? I don’t feel the heaviness any more. It feels like a blanket has been lifted.”
“Let me go upstairs first,” Casey said.
Terry raised his brows and said, “No!”
“I hate to say it, but I think he’s right, Terry.”
“I’m not letting Casey go up there on his own!”
“Yeah, you should let me.
You need to be here for Amy, and I’ll know better than both of you if the entities are gone, or are hiding in the walls.”
“Entities, is that what you saw? What do they look like, Casey?”
“They were metallic grey liquid like mercury. They had the snout of a dog, the wings of a bat, the tail of a scorpion, and death dripped from their mouths. They didn’t have a stable, solid form. They fight for existence and that’s why they need us: to possess our body and soul, leaving us only a corner of our mind to reside in. They have no souls, they’re from hell. And to answer the questions you want to ask, Amy, I don’t know how I know this stuff. Sometimes I feel like I am an old man who has lived a thousand lifetimes. But other times — well, you get the picture. I survived drowning that day for a reason. You found me, Terry, for a reason. This is all connected.”
The darkness of the basement hid his face as he climbed the stairs. The golden retriever followed. Casey placed both hands on the door like in a fire and felt the silence.
He slowly pushed the door open and peeked into the dark kitchen. The sun had gone. They had been down there longer than he thought. Night hung over the house and his bladder was about to burst. He couldn’t go slow; he had to get to the bathroom before his teeth started to float!
*
Casey stepped into the kitchen and crept into the center of the room. He peeked into the lounge room; the edge of the curtain was possessed by a pre-dawn breeze. A fog drifted through the open window and Casey shivered. The wooden panels that had hung over the window lay by the bookshelf and the side table, lamp, and chair were knocked over. Casey stood with the dog by his side in the middle of the room, testing for a sense of any other presence in the house. It seemed quiet and empty. He flicked off the light switch and waited. Nothing: no lost souls, no apparitions, no emotional memories. Something had taken them away. It had become eerily quiet and empty. He walked cautiously into the foyer and flicked the light up the stairs. Satisfied he was alone, he entered Amy’s great-aunt’s old room where she had stayed during her final years. He wanted to use the bathroom and closed the door slowly behind him, hoping to reduce the sound of the squeaking hinges. The torch clanged as he laid it on top of the porcelain. He quickly unzipped his pants and sighed in relief as the stream went on forever.
Casey zipped himself up, washed his hands and opened the squeaky door. The sound unnerved him, making him feel silly. The floor was loud, and the room smelt musty, but it felt happy and comfortable, and he imagined this was how Amy’s great- aunt was. The thought of frying up eggs and sausages, a Sunday English breakfast, made his stomach rumble. The clock in the room chimed, signaling dawn and the sun’s imminent rising. Where has the night gone? Where is Sophia?
Casey walked back to the basement passing the dog that patiently waited for him. She stepped in behind as he reached for the door handle. Suddenly the door was pushed inwards. He let go, stumbling backwards over the dog.
“What the …”
Terry emerged from the darkened doorway. “Why are you on the floor?”
Casey, Terry and Amy laughed nervously.
“What the hell took you so long?” Terry asked.
“I had to go to the bathroom. It’s all clear.”
“What’s clear?” Terry said. “The house or your bladder?”
“Funny! The house. It’s just a bit of a mess.”
The dog scratched at the back door, so Amy let her out. Five minutes later it scratched at the door, wanting back in. It settled on the kitchen floor and slept for the next few hours while Amy, Terry and Casey cleaned and secured the house. Terry and Casey boarded the windows and Amy tidied up. Light started to shine under the back door. There was no point in going to bed, they were all hungry anyway.
“Let’s have breakfast.” Terry fired up the stove and Amy pulled out the sausages and egg powder. Casey made the toast. They worked together as a team, not talking but enjoying the ordinariness of preparing breakfast.
*
In a labyrinth of darkness Joe watched Sophia glow while she slept restlessly. Stunned, he looked on in silence.
Beads of sweat sparkled on Sophia’s forehead like jewels. She was the only source of light in the dark tunnel. Slowly she started to lift off the ground, then gently as a feather floated back down and the glow dimmed. Father McDonald kept murmuring his prayers and Joe joined in and whispered his own. Together, they begged God to give her the strength to do His will.
Father McDonald switched on the torch. Joe covered his eyes to shield them from the artificial light, watching Father McDonald pop a tiny pill into his mouth. Rubbing his chest he said, “It just needs to keep ticking until this is over.” Then he leant over to Sophia and whispered, “Sophia, it’s time to wake up. We have to get moving.”
Joe packed up the rubbish of their snack bars as the torch flickered, unnerving him. It was the last torch. Sophia dusted herself off and silently they continued walking. The tunnels narrowed. Two hours passed before the torch flickered again, and the light was suddenly gone.
Father McDonald pushed the light on his watch and said, “Have trust, Joe, we will be out of here soon. I feel it in my aching bones.”
Joe thought he could hear the sound of water drip, drip dripping into a pool. Pinpointing sound in the tunnels is difficult. He walked on, took three steps, then dropped into a body of cold water.
“What was —” Father MacDonald said.
It’s too late to stop them. They were walking so close. Joe felt the weight of Father McDonald, followed by Sophia, falling on top of him, driving him under. The backpacks weighed them down. Joe started to panic. Father McDonald’s head went under the water and he stretched his arms out to Joe, shining the tiny light from his watch. Joe saw the dot and struggled to the surface.
The light went out. Under the water, Father McDonald struggled out of his backpack. He splashed to the surface. “Let go of the bags.”
“We won’t survive if we let go of the packs,” Joe said.
“Joe, let them go. We have no choice.”
“Oh God.” Joe slipped one arm at a time out of the harness. “Sophia, hold onto my shoulders and don’t let go. I’ll get us out of here.” He didn’t want to turn, he didn’t want the light, he was afraid of what he might see.
“I’m a good swimmer, I am right behind you,” she said. “But Joe, what about your prosthesis?”
“It’s an Aqualeg, an amazing invention. I can do everything I did before I lost my leg. Now stay close, hen. Both of you stay close. After this, I think a warm fire with good friends and a whiskey might be in order.”
After ten minutes, the water felt as if it was now freezing over. Joe breaststroked slowly in front of them hoping he was not leading them in circles. We have to get out of here.
Father McDonald said, “I suppose we could think of this as an extended baptism.”
“Or a mikveh,” Joe said, shivering.
Sophia’s teeth were chattering. If there had been light, Joe would have seen that her lips and under her eyes were purple. “What’s a mikveh?” Sophia asked.
“It’s an opportunity to cleanse your spirit of any negative energy that you may have collected. The mikveh is a body of water that is connected to the flowing waters of mercy that come out of Eden. The ocean is a perfect place for a mikveh. You meditate on the layers of your spirit, or aura, being cleansed while you bob up and down under the water eleven times or more.”
“I love the idea of the ocean but I have never seen it in real life. One day, Joe, I would like to go to the beach and maybe we can do a mikveh together,” Sophia said.
“Ah, shit!” Under the surface of the water Joe hit his leg on something hard.
“Okay, maybe not,” Sophia said.
“Ah, no, hen. I hit my knee on a rock.” He reached under and felt around, finding a rock ledge. He pulled himself up onto it and crawled on his hands and knees until he slapped dry land. Joe climbed out of the water, then walked back, careful not to slip, and lifted Sophi
a up. They both fumbled in the dark for Father McDonald’s arms. Joe seized Father McDonald’s cold skeletal hands and pulled his dead weight up and onto the rock. They all sat on the edge.
Father McDonald pushed the light button on his watch and the chamber’s darkness was penetrated by the faintest glow. Using the light, he awkwardly tried to force his hand into his wet pocket.
“What are doing?” Joe said.
“My pills. They’re gone.”
The roof was invisible beyond the reach of the light. Joe helped him up and they started shuffling over the rock onto solid ground. The cave walls were opening out. Joe felt Sophia, at his back, hook two fingers into his pants belt loop.
“Stay close, hen.” Joe walked with his arms outstretched, feeling for obstacles and hit another wall. His heart beat faster; he thought he had reached the end. They had been travelling for days. This can’t be it. He felt along the walls. “Sophia, let go, and stay where you are.” He shuffled his feet a few steps to the left and hit a wall. He then shuffled to the right and there was another wall, a dead end. He wanted to weep, but placed his forehead against the cold rock, his arms outstretched, touching each side. The tips of his fingers on his right hand slipped into a crevice. He moved them deeper into it, not daring to move any other part of his body. He could fit in his fist; he opened his palm, and turned his body towards the gap and measured the space with his hands.
“Father McDonald, turn your watch light back on, please.”
Sophia and Father McDonald moved up beside Joe. There was a gap, hardly big enough for Joe to fit through. Sophia would fit. Side-on, they all might be able to squeeze through. Where would it take them? Joe wondered. He smiled at his two companions. “What do we do?”
“We keep moving forward,” Father McDonald said. He let his light fall dim and waited for Joe to lead.