Ingress

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Ingress Page 22

by Mary Ann Poll


  She really is a looker, Bart thought.

  “I’m going to check on Melbourne. Call me when you know about that dog.” He turned to Mrs. Tellamoot. “He saved our lives, you know.”

  Bernice patted his hand. “I didn’t know but I’m glad.” She went back to watching Benny.

  Bart said his goodbyes and headed to Doc Billings.

  Kat was sitting by Ken. So was Paul Lucas. Kat got up and went to Bart.

  She tilted her head in Paul’s direction. “He’s been praying pretty much nonstop since we got here.”

  “How is he?”

  “Better than he should be, from what Doc says. The fever’s breaking and his breathing has become more normal. He still hasn’t regained consciousness, though.”

  Bart walked to Ken. His hair was soaked. He had dark circles under his eyes and pallor under the deep flush from the fever. Don’t you die on me. Don’t you dare die on me. Bart realized Ken was the closest thing he had for a friend. They understood each other.

  The front door creaked open.

  “I’ll go.” Bart walked to the waiting room and returned a short time later, followed by Grandma and Josiah.

  “Bad news travels fast,” Bart said.

  Kat ran to her grandmother, a small child once again falling into her arms. Grandma patted Kat and walked to Ken and the pastor.

  Josiah joined them. A look of anger took the place of his calm expression.

  “What evil did this?” he demanded, looking at Paul.

  Paul shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “It was those nasty creatures they call the Kumrande—you know, the ones we all thought were folklore.” Bart looked at Grandma Bricken.

  “Mrs. Tellamoot did talk about a white settler from the Forgotten Place who practiced an odd religion. One of the parts of that religion had to do with elements of nature.”

  “These Kumrande are a part of that religion?”

  “Seems possible.” Alese answered.

  “Tell me what they look like,” Josiah said.

  “Small, sharp-featured faces. Grey. Yellow, reflective eyes. Wrinkled.”

  “You’re describing what the Europeans call gnomes. What the Irish call leprechauns.”

  “News to me. I only knew them by Kumrande.” Bart was writing in his notebook.

  “These creatures are brought out by someone who worships evil ones. They are creatures subject to the will of demons.”

  “Gnomes are said to use poison to subdue a victim. Maybe the Kumrande’s do the same.” Kat smiled sheepishly at Bart.

  “How do you know that?”

  “I read a lot. Thought it was fiction at the time.”

  Doc Billings had been listening. “When he got here, he woke up and couldn’t make a coherent sentence. He would try to name something and the word came out totally different than what he was trying to say. When I asked him about the pain, he motioned to his head and stomach. I’ll be right back.”

  Doc returned with a book of poisonous plants common to Southcentral Alaska. He thumbed through. “I knew the symptoms sounded familiar.” He read in silence. “Yep. Those are the symptoms. It’s Baneberry poisoning.”

  “How is it treated?” Kat asked.

  “It should wear off. The fever’s what threw me—it’s not part of baneberry poisoning. But everything else is a perfect match.”

  “How about the dog?” Bart was feeling a loyalty to the animal that saved his life.

  “The dog should come out of it even quicker. I’m more concerned about these deep wounds because they look infected. But, as long as Ken responds to the antibiotics, he’ll be good as new. I better call Douglas.”

  Doc Billings returned. “Douglas is taking care of Benny. The biggest concern with him is appetite. Sometimes they lose it and then you lose the animal from dehydration and starvation instead of the poison.”

  “So, why would anyone use baneberries to poison someone if it doesn’t kill them?” Bart asked.

  “Baneberries are nasty little buggers. They will incapacitate an individual for quite a while. Lucky you weren’t hit by it, too.” He hung a small IV bag next to a larger one that was hooked into Ken’s arm. “This one has the antibiotic; the other one will help with the electrolytes and keep them balanced. He’s lost a lot of fluid. Threw up a few times and sweating like a sauna client. I’ve given him an antihistamine just in case. It will help negate any allergic reaction. Now, we wait.”

  “We are going up to the vet’s office. We may be the older generation but we can help, too. We’ll find out what else Mrs. Tellamoot knows about that book.” Josiah and Alese walked out together into the driving snowstorm.

  “There’s nothing more you can do right now.”

  Kat pulled a chair up to the examining table where Ken lay. It was obvious she wasn’t leaving.

  “Call me if anything changes.” Billings left the room.

  Brandon McGill stood at the upper floor window of the old house, a look of rage contorting the handsome face. Atramentous and Gambogian stood on either side of him.

  “I thought that dog had been taken care of,” he hissed.

  “He was almost dead. Our friends had driven him to the point of insanity. He had bitten himself enough to start an infection. We do not know how or why he became healthy again.”

  “Send Prevaricator and Trepaner. They must stop that dog.”

  “Done.”

  Iconoclast looked out onto the courtyard and smiled. The skull had begun to change color. It had deepened from a sand to a red clay brown. It wouldn’t be long now. He looked at the abandoned corpse in front of the cabin and smiled wider. “Fools think they can change their minds.” He shivered knowing if the mayor had been wise enough to call on Jesus, Iconoclast would have been up against a formidable foe. He threw the thought of defeat from his mind and returned to the task at hand. He grinned as he saw people begin to mill around the old square. It had begun. They were coming to him.

  Grandma and Josiah walked into the vet’s reception area.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Bricken and …?”

  Josiah held his hat in his hand and bent slightly at the waist. “Josiah Williams.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Is Mrs. Tellamoot still here?”

  “She is. Won’t leave that dog.”

  “How is Benny?”

  “Remarkably well. Eyes are open. Sitting up. The wound is deep but looks like it will heal. Just need him to eat.”

  “Oh, that is good news.” Grandma Bricken knew it would break Mrs. Tellamoot’s heart, again, if she lost this one, too.

  “Do you think we can see her?”

  “Sure. Come with me.”

  Mrs. Tellamoot stood up and smiled when she saw Josiah and Grandma. Benny was standing and wagging his tail. He pawed the kennel door.

  “Doc says he needs to stay put for a little while. I think Benny disagrees.” She laughed.

  “Bernice, do you have any specific information about that Book of Fallen Angels?”

  Her face paled. She dropped into the chair beside Benny and put her hand through the kennel bars to pet him for comfort. “Why do you ask?”

  “Seems Mayor Orthell had it and now Bart’s got it. The mayor indicated it had something to do with the murders around here.”

  Bernice’s eyes shot to Alese’s. “If that’s true, Ravens Cove is about to meet the same fate as the Forgotten Place. I thought it was odd to bring all those old buildings here ‘as a tourist draw’ like the mayor said. There is only one way to stop it. That is to call on the holy angels of God to fight for us.”

  “We have prayed, Bernice. It doesn’t seem to be working.” Josiah shot Alese an alarmed look.

  “I know that Jesus hears us. I just don’t know why this is happening and why He won’t stop it.” Alese sighed and sat down.

  “That book not only brings back the demons and elementals, it brings back the strongest of all the evil foes—right under Satan, that is. And, as you
know, our battle is not with flesh and blood, Alese.”

  “Then what are we supposed to do?”

  “I think the evil foe knows his battle for the souls of men is with God. But people, arrogant as we are, think we can fight that battle for God. Maybe God wants us to know for a fact that He is the only one that can fight this battle. Not us,” Josiah said.

  Mrs. Tellamoot look at Alese Bricken. “The Forgotten Place was all but destroyed. There were some, in the hunting party, that survived, as you know. My grandmother told me there was a man of God, who joined them that day. He had come as a missionary and wanted to learn the ways of the people. The story goes, and no one could confirm it, that when he saw the destruction, he fell on his knees, cried out to the Lord to fight, and went into the village. They said they heard footsteps like an army above their heads. The next thing was the tale by the Native saying he had sneaked back to the village and saw the death and the angel that was fighting.”

  “I can’t believe my own arrogance,” Josiah said. “I have been acting as if I was calling on God. I was calling on God and expecting myself to fight this evil myself. I am a fool.”

  “I am, too. I have been doing the same thing.” They looked around and saw Paul Lucas behind them.

  “Kat told me you were here. There is an odd thing happening in the town right now. A gathering at the Old Town. People are going there like they are on a mission or in a trance.”

  “It is the beginning of the end. That is what happened in the Forgotten Place before the slaughter. All the people came out and stood in the town center. No one understood why they didn’t run or hide. Now I know why. The deceit has been woven over them.”

  “I know where I need to go.” Paul walked toward the door. It was getting light. The snow had stopped but the sky still hung with deep grey clouds not sure it was finished dumping its load.

  “Not without us, Paul. You’d be a fool.”

  “I’ve been called worse in the name of my Lord.”

  “Lord,” Josiah began, “help us. We have sinned against You. We have forgotten we are weak and cannot fight any battle without You. Please, God, help us. Please fight for us. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”

  Paul sighed. “Pride is such a deceitful thing—the heart of man laps it up like water.”

  “Agreed. Let’s go.”

  “We need to tell Kat and Bart.”

  They walked into the small medical clinic. Bart was all smiles, as was Kat. Kenneth came out from the back.

  “Ah, the small family has reassembled.”

  “We are not the only ones in a reunion. We need to get to Old Town. Your illness has been a diversion as much as a close encounter with death. It has given Iconoclast time to assemble his comrades and to grow stronger,” Alese Bricken said.

  Ken went for the door.

  “Wait a minute. You aren’t going anywhere,” Kat said.

  “I am going somewhere. I feel fine.”

  “Kat, he needs to go, we all do. There is a crowd gathering at Old Town. There is a slaughter about to occur.”

  “He’s been so sick.” She looked into Ken’s eyes, pleading with him not to go.

  “I’m fine. And I have you.” He lifted her chin and kissed her gently.

  “Why do we have to do this? Why?” she screamed. “Hasn’t God put enough on us already?”

  They stood and looked at her. She wiped an angry tear from her right eye.

  “Guess not. Let’s go.” She stormed toward the door.

  They arrived at Old Town. The old skull was maroon and its eyes were glowing with a light of their own. Two people were dead in front of the old hotel. Others were standing in front of the skull, like waiting their turn on a carnival ride. Brandon McGill stood behind the skull, greeting each one. Bart lurched forward to get to them.

  “Stop. You can’t do this, Bart. Haven’t you learned that yet?”

  “I can’t stand here and watch a massacre.”

  “We aren’t here to watch a massacre. We’re here to ask forgiveness and pray. Why do you think we weren’t affected by the odd call of the demons?”

  “I am the sheriff. I am supposed to protect these people. What do you want me to do?”

  “Wait on the Lord.”

  The sky started turning red. “Iconoclast is definitely here.” Kat was pointing to the red smoke. They watched as the smoke rose higher and people drew closer to their doom.

  “Do you accept me as your king?” Bart heard McGill saying. He looked closer. Brandon McGill’s face wasn’t right. It kept contorting like the skin didn’t fit quite right.

  “Do you see that?” He pointed to Brandon. Ken looked where Bart was pointing and watched.

  “Yeah, that’s just wrong.”

  “I do not believe that is Brandon McGill we are seeing. It’s a demon. I’ve seen it before when I was in the ravine. Lord, reveal the truth of this being. Please God make it reveal its true form. In Your name, Jesus. Amen.”

  At the “Amen” the small troop watched as Brandon McGill’s façade dissipated and what stood in its place was an enormous black being. Its chest was four feet across. Its skin was black leather and molded to its rib cage like armor. The claws glinted in the growing darkness. In its hand was a small purple and black ornament. Each person wanted to touch that ornament.

  “What is that?” Kat asked. Something niggled her subconscious. “I know that thing.”

  “Dreaming maybe?”

  “I don’t know.” Then she was sure she perceived a low, melancholy melody. “Hear that?”

  “I do,” Josiah said, “it sounds familiar.”

  “That’s the tune I heard when you were in the ravine!”

  “That’s the rock thing. That’s Pet!” Kat said loudly. Too loudly. She got the attention of the thing at the rock.

  Several people had touched Pet. Dried blood was evident on either their left or right hands.

  “We have visitors, O friends. Please help me to get rid of them.”

  Those people turned and started toward the small group.

  “Wendy!” Kat screamed and lunged forward.

  Ken grabbed her. “She can’t hear you, Kat. She’s not Wendy right now.”

  Paul fell to his knees and cried out. “God, help us and help our town. I do not understand why Ravens Cove is so important in the battle between You and evil. But it is. I can only call on You because Your son died for me and made the way to You. God save us.”

  The mob was on them. Bart and Ken had pulled guns and pointed them at the people. One of the mob screamed. A Kumrande had grabbed him from behind, to be the next sacrifice to Iconoclast.

  The mob stopped for a moment, almost broken from thetrance. The small group ran across the street into the trees. The crowd stopped at the edge of Old Town, unable or unwilling to leave. Wendy and some others went back to the skull and stood in line again. The rest made a barrier at the entrance to Old Town.

  Wendy was next at the Rock. Kat watched in horror as the lighted eyes glowed brighter and the beak mouth opened. Wendy stepped forward. A blur of white flew through the human wall and ran to the skull.

  “How the heck did that dog get out again?” Doc Douglas came running up behind them and stopped. Fear gripped him as he watched what was going on in Old Town.

  “God help us.” A surprise to all, he ran forward and fell to his knees right in front of the mob.

  He held up his hands. “God of my fathers, God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, I beg you to hear me. You fought for my ancestors in the days of old. You fight for your children today. Please renew Your wonders now, O God. Please. Save us for Your sake. In Y’shua’s mighty name, send your warriors. Amen.”

  “Who’s Y’shua?” Bart asked Grandma in a whisper.

  “That is the name of our Lord and God, Jesus Christ. That is His name in Hebrew.”

  What sounded like a mighty clap of thunder came through the air. So loud the ground shook and trees quivered.

  “What’s that sound?” Kat as
ked Ken. Ken shrugged. He was intent on watching Doc Douglas, who had gone prone on the ground and was not moving. The mob in front of him had tried to reach him but couldn’t.

  “I hear footsteps, lots of them. Up there.” Kat looked up but saw nothing.

  “So do I.”

  Prevaricator and Trepaner went to work, spreading lies and deceit. It was the demon’s only hope.

  “Not true,” Trepaner whispered in Kat’s ear. “You’re overwrought, maybe even insane.”

  “I think I’m just a little cracked right now.” Kat said to Ken.

  Ken looked at her. He’d never heard her waver on what she knew she saw. He was sure he saw something dark behind Kat. A sickly black aura. He had seen this before.

  “Paul. Here. Now.” Paul Lucas walked to Ken and Kat. “Do you see that?”

  “Be gone in the name of Jesus, you evil being.” Trepaneer flew toward the Old Town center like he was a baseball and had just been used to hit a home run. The black being fell at the rock center.

  Iconoclast growled. “We are not done, man of God. You have lost.” He grabbed Wendy and they watched in horror as the skull began to slide to the side, mouth still open.

  “No!” Kat ran forward before they could catch her. She stopped a few feet in front of the human wall.

  Iconoclast had forgotten Benny in the hubbub. Benny grabbed the evil being and bit down. It screamed. He released Iconoclast and tugged on Wendy’s jeans, dragging her a short distance from the hole. Pet fell to the ground and Iconoclast grabbed him back up before the dog could get it.

  Iconoclast reached for Benny and caught him. The dog writhed and snapped at his hand. “I suppose Dacoit would like some dog, too.” Iconoclast laughed as he took Benny to the skull and lowered Benny to the mouth.

  A bolt of lightning broke through the gathering darkness and struck the skull-rock in the center of the head. The lightning ricocheted and hit Iconoclast in the arm. He dropped Benny. Benny snapped at him one more time before he ran back to Wendy. Wendy was unconscious. He started licking her face.

  Mrs. Orthell screamed profanities and insults at the small troop, accusing them of killing her Tommy. Accusing the sheriff of not doing his job and telling them all how she’d enjoy murdering each and every one of them. Kat took off and broke through the human shield. She hit Mrs. Orthell like a linebacker and ran to Wendy and Benny. She grabbed Wendy and tried to pick her up but she was deadweight. The others followed her in and ran to her. They were surrounded by the mob.

 

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