Piercing the Darkness (91 page)

“Good-bye,” said Number Three, heading back down the mountain.

Number One followed him. “Let’s get into town. I’ll hot-wire a car.”

There was an immediate consensus.

Sally did not hear them go. She lay among the rocks in a dead faint. The Satanists had come within four feet of her hiding-place before turning back.

IN CLAYTONVILLE, FORMER
Police Sergeant Harold Mulligan locked the front door of coroner Joey Parnell’s home and put Parnell’s house keys in his pocket. He’d just dropped by the Parnell residence on a business call—but it wasn’t police business. Mulligan was in civilian clothes, and was driving his own private vehicle, an older Ford. He did not linger, but got into that Ford, backed down the driveway, and drove out of that neighborhood, out of that town, and, for all practical purposes, out of existence. He would never be seen again.

Within a few days, the papers would report the mysterious gunshot deaths of Parnell and his wife, both found dead together in the Parnell home, apparently from a mutual suicide pact. Satanic literature would be found in the home, along with evidence linking Parnell to several unsolved murders in that part of the state.

SALLY AWOKE WITH
a start and stiffened. Don’t move! They might be near you!
She stifled her breathing and remained still, listening.

There was no sound except the cold breeze. The shadows were longer. It was the only way she could tell that any time had passed. She lay among some large stones, flat on her back. She raised her head slightly. She felt cold.

Then she felt fear. Steady. Pounding. Growing. Like footsteps behind her in the dark, like some . . . some
thing
lurking around the next
blind corner, like a crawling, unstoppable monster approaching while she was unable to move.

She whispered so quietly she only mouthed the words, “Who’s there?”

EYES! Scales! Blackness, power, sulfur,
hatred
!

It stood tall before her, a waking nightmare, a black, towering silhouette against a surreal, blood-red sky, the bulging yellow eyes leering at her, never blinking, never wavering.

She knew it was there. It was not material, and physical eyes could not see it, but she’d had such visitations before, and she knew it was real. She tensed, rose to her elbows, looking up at it while it looked down at her, the sulfur blowing in silken wisps from its nostrils, its fangs bared as it grinned with fiendish delight.

It spoke to her in her mind.
You know me.

She did, and now she had good reason to be terrified. She pushed herself away, wriggling backwards on her hands and elbows, speechless, shaking.

The thing’s words throbbed in her head.
You know me, Sally Roe, and you won’t get away!

The huge red sword came down like a meat cleaver.

TAL HEARD SALLY’S
scream above the battle and shouted, “Guilo!”

“YAHHH!” came Guilo’s answer as he shot up from the center of the ebbing cloud. He’d heard it too.

Side by side, with wings spread full and trailing fire, they dove like meteors for the mountain, rolled sharply to the right, then dropped into the forest, lighting up the treetops.

SALLY TUMBLED OVER
the rocks and rolled down the steep incline, arms thrashing, kicking up pine needles, dirt, and pebbles. The ground was washed red with the light of that huge sword as the thing glided down the slope after her, wings spread like a canopy. She could hear its huffing breath, the rippling of its leathery wings.

She came to a stop against a tree.

WHOOSH!
The sword split the air once more. Sally ducked,
scrambled down the hill, fell, and rolled again.

TAL BANKED TO
the left, Guilo to the right; they would strike from opposite sides. Tal shot up the mountainside, chest just above the rocks and brush, then cupped his wings, swung his feet out before him, and doubled back.

He could see Sally tumbling down the slope with the black spirit pouncing on her like a murderous vulture, red sword flashing again and again. Beyond the spirit, he saw Guilo as a fast-closing ball of light. Tal hauled back his sword, ready to strike.

The loathsome spirit saw them coming and stood his ground, ready to meet them. They came at him like two colliding trains. With incredible power, he batted them both aside. Guilo went tumbling uphill, trying to come out of a spin, while Tal cannonballed downhill, passing through and between the pines, disappearing into the thick forest below.

You are mine
, said the spirit,
and I will finish what I have started!

“No!” Sally pleaded. It was the only word that would come to her mind.

ZING!
The sword caught her in the leg. She fell against a tree, then to the ground. The sword came down again, just missing her shoulder.

Brilliant light! Two comets! Guilo from above, Tal from below, closing again!

Guilo struck first. The spirit batted him aside, but caught a stunning blow in the back from Tal’s sword and teetered forward before spinning and meeting Tal’s sword with a jolting parry that sent Tal fluttering into the forest again.

Guilo dove and struck the thing’s neck. It elbowed him several miles out of the way.

Tal righted himself, gripped his sword tightly, and shouted,
Sally Roe! Stand against him! Turn him away!

Sally didn’t seem to hear. She was crying out, trying to get on her feet. The thing leaped upon her, digging its talons into her. She could feel them searing her flesh. She was choking on the foul breath. It raised the sword again.

OOF!
A streak of light passed overhead, and the thing pitched forward.
Guilo looped in a tight circle and came in for another pass, and there came Tal, straight down from above.

The spirit rose to its feet and faced them head-on, wild-eyed, sword ready. Guilo came in low; it kicked him aside. Tal dropped from above; it batted him into the treetops.

Speak up, Sally!
said Tal.

“Stand aside,” the thing roared. “The woman belongs to
me
!”

With that, it stomped its black, scaled foot down on the fleeing woman’s leg, knocking her down, holding her there.

Tal shouted, “She is
ours
,” and dove for the demon again, at least to keep it diverted.

This time their swords met in a shower of sparks. The blow sent Tal reeling.

Take authority!
said Tal.

You are mine, Sally Roe!
said the demon.

“No!” said Sally. She’d found some words. “I belong to Jesus, the Son of God!”

That’s it, that’s it, that’s it!
Guilo roared, rushing through the trees with incredible fury.

His blow knocked the demon backward. The thing whipped his sword around, but Guilo pulled his feet in just in time and got away.

You do not belong to Jesus!
the monster screamed.
He could never love you!

Sally was distraught, groping for words. “Jesus loves me! The Bible tells me so!” A child’s Sunday school song. It was all she knew.

Tal scored a hit and sent the demon tumbling into the trees.

Sally went running for her life, crying out, “Jesus, help me! Help me!”

The demon recovered and roared after her, wings thundering.
You will burn in Hell with me! I will drag you there myself!
He swung his sword at her, but his reach was short.

She fell, twisted, looked up at those yellow eyes.

He landed on her, knocking her flat with his knees, clamping her down.

Their eyes met.

“Jonas!” she screamed.

He broke into a wide, hideous grin, the fangs dripping, the brow furrowed with wicked laughter. The sword went high over his head.

“Jonas,” she said, extending her open hand toward the gnarled face, “STOP!”

The sword remained above his head. The eyes narrowed.
You are mine!

She rose up on one elbow. She was gaining new courage. “I am
not
yours! I belong to Jesus!”

No . . . no, Sally Roe!

She was amazed. The sword teetered above the demon’s head. He could not lower it. She spoke again. “I belong to Jesus now; He paid for my sins with His blood, and you can’t torment me anymore!”

I will do what I wish! I am going to kill you!
Suddenly the demon didn’t sound too convincing.