The Devil's Heart (30 page)

It would be an awesome sight, Balon felt. And one hell of a fight.

"Here." Sam dropped his pack to the ground. "We can see it all from here and still have time to run if they spot us."

"Run where?" Linda asked.

"Run and run," Sam answered the edgy question. "Run. Hide. Then run some more. Until it's time to make a stand and fight it out."

"When will that be?" Again, the questioner was Linda.

"When it's time," Sam told her, patience in his tone. "I'll know."

"How?" she pushed him for a firm answer.

Nydia gave him a look that said all her past suspicions were returning.

"I can't give you a flat, firm answer to that." Sam looked at the flat plain that contained the dark circle of stones. The altar, although Sam could just barely make out, held a vivid white slash across its top. "But I'll know."

His answer did not satisfy the young woman, but she shut up.

"1 wonder what their reaction will be when they discover we're gone?" Nydia asked.

"Rage and hate," Sam said, shifting the Thompson from left hand to right. He looked at Linda. "Can you fire a weapon?"

She shook her head. "My dad never allowed them in the house. He said guns kill people."

"People kill people," Sam said, rebutting her statement. He glanced at Nydia, and she picked up the unspoken question from his thoughts.

"I can shoot. Rifle, shotgun, pistol."

"All right!" Sam smiled.

"But I've never had to shoot at a human being," she added.

"These aren't human beings," Sam reminded her.

Linda shifted her butt on the ground. Nydia put her hand to the side of her neck, touching the tiny bite marks. They itched. She wondered what had bitten her. "What time is it, Sam?"

"Eleven-thirty, Eastern time," Ralph said to his wife, "We'd better get into position."

She grinned at him.

"Old lady," he returned the grin, "you are a wanton woman."

"I'm a-wantin' you," she aped a southern accent. "Again."

"See me next week, some time." He zipped up his jacket.

"Getting old, eh?"

Ralph waggled his eyebrows and grinned lewdly at his wife. He stepped out into the cold mountain air of the Sierra Nevada range, striding purposefully to the small observatory he had built on one of the highest peaks of that range. His wife was only seconds behind him.

"Wait up," she called, and he stopped, holding out his hand.

"What's the matter, old woman—did I wear you out?"

"Dream on, stud." She squeezed his hand. They walked for a few seconds in silence, his wife breaking the mood by asking: "Ours has been a good marriage, hasn't it, Ralph?"

"Any better and I couldn't have stood it," he joked.

"No, I'm serious, honey."

"It's been the best, and I mean that. Why are you asking that at this time?" He stopped, looking at her in the brightness of starlight. Stars that seemed close enough to reach out and touch.

"It's just … well, we enjoy … it so much. You know what I mean? Sometimes I think we enjoy it too much."

He laughed aloud, pulling her to him. "Honey, you worry about the darnedest things. Nowhere in the Bible—that I can find—does it say a married man and woman can't enjoy all the slap and tickle they can handle. And I think if I ever find that passage, I'll just ignore it; pretend like I didn't see it. I might even petition … someone to get it thrown out."

She smiled. "They have been good years, Ralph. I wouldn't trade them for anything. I mean that."

"You're in a very reflective mood this evening. Why?"

"You know I always get that way when we come up here. It's ... a feeling of being so close to all things that really matter."

"A feeling of being closer to Him?"

"Yes," she said softly.

"Well … so do I, honey. That's why I love to come up here."

She kissed him and said, "Let's go view the Heavens."

"What time is it now, Sam?" Nydia asked.

" 'Bout three minutes later than the last time you asked me." He grinned, white teeth flashing against the tan of his face.

She squeezed his hand. "Anybody ever tell you you're a handsome fellow?"

The look Linda gave her, hidden in the gloom of the timber, was of hate.

"Oh. dozens of girls. Hundreds. And one guy."

"Are you serious?"

"About the guy?"

"Yes," she laughed.

"Sure am. Never ran so fast in all my life. Fellow tried to kiss me … right on the mouth."

Linda did not share their humor, sitting glumly on the ground behind them, her eyes full of hate.

Nydia laughed softly. "I don't believe you, but tell me about the girls."

"Oh … they all lusted after my body. Nearly drove me crazy. I finally had to get a big stick and carry it with me. One time I started a riot; all the girls started chasing me and fighting over who got to keep me. Why …"

"Sam," she stopped him, "that is the biggest lie I have ever heard."

"Yeah," he grinned, "I guess it is, at that." He put an arm around her shoulders just as Linda got to her feet and walked to the crest of the ridge where they stood.

"Oh, my God!" she said, pointing to the dark circle of stones. "Look down there. Past the stones and stuff. Over by the house."

A long wavering line of torches smoked the night, casting trembling evil flickers of light into the sky. The line marched toward the circle of stones.

The trio on the ridge above the sin-stained circle of stones watched for a few moments. The line came to the barren plain and slowly began to circle the stones.

"What time is it?" Linda asked.

Sam glanced at his watch. "Eleven fifty-five."

"You are too close," the voice boomed into Sam's head. "It is dangerous where you are. And it is not advisable for mortals to view this awfulness."

"I have to see what I am to fight," Sam replied, as Nydia and Linda looked at him in surprise. "Stubborn. And young. Very well. Have it your way, young warrior."

The mighty voice faded.

"Who were you talking to?" Linda asked.

"The Other Side," Sam replied.

"The other side of what?"

"Life." Sam thought for a few seconds, then added, "As we know it."

Linda pulled her attention back to the torches. She shook her head in disbelief. Neither Sam nor Nydia knew if the almost indiscernible movement of her head was meant for Sam or the scene before them.

On the fringe of the torch-lit circle, the trio on the top of the ridge watched as shadowy figures moved closer to the light, walking in a peculiar, hunkered manner. Even at this great distance they looked grotesque … not human.

"The Beasts," Nydia said.

"I wonder where they came from?" Sam mused aloud.

"I mean … what was their origin?"

"Hell, I suppose," she replied. "I don't know, Sam. You know as much about them as I do."

Linda was strangely silent.

God's failures! The phrase leaped into Sam's mind.

And the young man questioned that statement: but how can . . . could God fail at anything?

He wished for the mighty voice to return: to answer his questions, but the voice was silent. Then he remembered something his mother had told him, something his real father had told her: nobody knows how many times God tried to make man in His own image … and failed.

Sam pondered that for a few moments, thinking: were the Beasts God's failures? What happened to cause the failure?

"I can't answer that, either, Sam," Nydia said. "Only He can answer that."

"I forgot you can read my thoughts. I wonder if we'll always have that power?"

"I … really hope not, Sam."

"Yeah, me too."

"You two can read each other's thoughts?" Linda asked, astonishment in her voice.

"Yes," Nydia said. "And sometimes other peoples' thoughts as well."

Sam glanced at her. "You know something I don't? he projected.

Nydia refused to reply.

"There's something going on down there," Linda said. "Look."

The participants in the calling of the forces had gathered in circles, several rings of them, each growing progressively smaller inward, the Beasts forming the larger outer circle. The circles began moving, the first clockwise, the next counterclockwise, the third circle clockwise, the inner circle counterclockwise. It was a grotesque form of dancing, the women dancing back to back, the men front to front. They hummed lowly, the faint humming only occasionally reaching the ridge, Standing by the dark altar was Falcon, his face whitened with makeup, in stark contrast to his black robe.

Sam stood with Nydia by his side, both of them watching through binoculars. "Hideous," was her only comment.

The humming changed into a chanting, the dancing becoming more profane. The chanting changed into a low roar as three young girls were dragged screaming through the dancing, leaping, chanting circles of worshipers. One was stripped naked, her clothing ripped from her. She was secured to the altar, her legs spread wide, bent at the knees. She could not have been more than eleven or twelve.

"I don't want to watch this," Nydia said. She lowered her binoculars and turned her face from the scene of depravity and sin.

"I want to see it," Linda said.

"I suspected you might," Nydia said, just loud enough for Sam to hear.

Sam's face remained impassive. He said nothing. He knew something was going on between the two young women, but did not know what. Linda took the binoculars, lifting them to her eyes. Nydia turned her back to the obscenity below her and sat down on a log, zipping up her jacket to her throat for protection against the strengthening wind.

"Call the hyenas!" a voice screamed, and the chanting grew thunderous.

"Dogges, Dogges," the circles screamed. "Hear our cries, 0, Dogges."

"Call the centaur!" the voice commanded.

A bleating young lamb was dragged into the circle. Its throat was cut and the blood sprinkled around the altar, encircling the naked, weeping girl.

"Centaurs, centaurs, those who prance for the Prince of Darkness. Ixion and Nephele, Kentaurus and Magnesian. Come to us now."

"Call the satyrs!"

"Diomedes! Dionysus! Flesh eater and Lord of all that is pleasurable. Come join us."

The flesh of the lamb was ripped from its body and passed about the circles, the dancers gnawing at the bloody strips of meat.

"Call the griffin!"

The chant went up.

"Call the owl and the raven!"

And Sam heard the beating of wings overhead. Something beat close to his head. Instinctively, he ducked, the talons just missing his head.

"Call the Great Rukh!"

The dancers began flapping their arms and shrieking hideously.

"Bring me the basilisk!"

"Where is Sirius?" the circles called.

"Sirius is in place," Falcon answered, lifting his arms skyward.

"Bring to us the double amphisbaena."

The circles hissed ominously.

Falcon threw a great caldron of water into the air, calling: "The hydra—come, hydra, those of you who know the Master."

"Come, hydra," the dancers chanted.

Another dark caldron of water was hurled into the cold air, Falcon shouting, "The Demon Merman."

The circle of leaping, hunching, chanting dancers began a movement that vaguely resembled a huge fish swimming.

"Bring the bats and the rats!"

The forest surrounding them became eerily silent.

Then a faint scurrying sound was heard, and something furry and evil brushed Sam's boots. He kicked it away just as Nydia muffled a scream. Sam whirled: a bat was entangled in her hair. She finally slapped it free and the furry filth went flapping and screeching off into the night, toward the torches and the stones.

"Black!" Falcon shouted. "Now!" he pointed to the terrified girl bound naked to the altar. Black jumped upon the altar.

Like Falcon, he was dressed in a dark robe. He lifted his robe, exposing his erect maleness. Lunging at the girl, he tore her bloody as he bulled his way inside her, laughing at her pitiful screaming.

The circle of dancers laughed with Black, howling their glee at the child's wails of pain. Falcon ran to her, teeth shining brightly in the torchlight. Fanged. He bent his head and tore at the vein in her neck, sucking her blood just as Black began his ejaculation.

Rats, the lower form of creatures that they are, began running and squeaking around the dancers, they, too, taking a joyful part in the evil ceremonies. Bats wheeled and cut the night, squeaking their contentment to be free of the darkness in which they had been confined.

"The merman!" Falcon looked up from the girl's throat, blood leaking from his mouth. He pointed to the sky as a horrible creature sluggishly made its way through the darkness.

Others of the Coven rushed forward to drink at the dying girl's fountain of gushing blood. A male member of the Coven took Black's place between the girl's legs, lunging at her as her body began to pale from the loss of blood.

"I don't believe I'm seeing this," Sam muttered.

"What is that thing?" Linda asked. "It looks like it's half man—or monster—and half fish."

"And part goat," Sam muttered, looking at the horned head of the merman.

"Call the little people!" Falcon shouted. "Come, imps. You have our Master's permission. Come!"

At first, Sam began to sense, more than see, the change in the sky. The change was very gradual, the flush in th sky above the circle of stones changing little by little, from a dark amber, through the color patterns, until finally it settled into a dark, bloody red, the glow transforming the scene before them and around them, their own faces and exposed hands now an ugly red.

"What is that smell?" Nydia asked, still sitting on the log behind Sam and Linda.

"Sulfur," Sam whispered.

"It's more than that," Nydia said. "It's … evil."

Linda looked at her.

The sky was now a color of Hell, the flames—real or imagined—licked the area above them, dancing down out of the sky to touch and mar the earth. The stink from the pits stung the eyes of the three on the ridge, wrinkling their noses against the smell.