The Paladin (17 page)

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Authors: Ken Newman

Tags: #Kill Boy, #The Paladin, #Ken Newman, #Hell Boy

BOOK: The Paladin
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Jan turned to leave but found a grim Mr. Cody blocking the doorway.

"Get out of my way, creep!"

"Dear child," said Mrs. Anderson. "You won't be doing anything that will violate your faith. You are merely a witness of the ceremony and afterward, you will be part of a grand feast."

"Miss Kelly, I will make you a deal," said Beck. "You are more than free to leave now with no hard feelings. However, if you stay to end of the ceremony, I will write both of you checks for one hundred thousand dollars."

"Oh, hell yes, I'm in!" said Stacy.

"I don't know," said Jan, "this seems so freaking wrong."

"Mr. Cody, show both of these ladies to the door," said Beck.

"Damn it Jan, don't blow this," said Stacy, "I don't know about you, but I could use the money."

"OK, let me get this straight," said Jan. "I just have to watch; I don't have to chant or sell my soul to Satan or participate in anyway?"

"Easy money, don't you think?" asked the schoolteacher.

"Miss Kirby, please cut these ladies a check," said Beck.

Dana quickly wrote the enormous amounts and handed one to Stacy and another to Jan.

"I guess I'm in," said Jan folding the check and shoving it into her jeans pocket.

The schoolteacher smiled.

 

20

 

In the gravel parking lot of a boat dock that lay at the western edge of the state park, Brenda Mills slid to a stop.

Killing the engine, she took the borrowed flashlight, along with a large kitchen knife, and stumbled out of the cab of the truck.

"It's so dark," she said with a shiver. Brenda had a dread fear of the dark, and in her mind, she imagined that the gloomy forest was filled with all manner of terrors.

Switching on the cheap flashlight, she was confronted with three widely-spaced trails. After a bit of thought, she selected the well-worn path to her left. Several yards down the narrow path, she heard the unmistakable sound of a car slowly grinding through the freshly laid gravel of the parking lot.

Switching off her feeble light, Brenda slipped behind a tall pine tree. Peering through the dark and the underbrush, she watched a car park next to her truck. A brilliant beam of white light illuminated Zack's truck.

The visitor then swept the surrounding woods with the powerful light.

Brenda avoided the searching beam.
They're looking for me.

Soon, the bouncing beacon disappeared down the trail to her right.

Thinking she was safe, Brenda
thumbed on her weak yellow light and hurried down the uneven trail.

***

Maggie waited patiently in the dark until she saw the dim yellow light move away from her.
Got you! Now, little girl, lead me to your boyfriend.

***

After an hour and half of stumbling through the dark, Brenda finally made it to the rusty barbed wire fence that separated the land of the park from the desolate rock Silas Cole had described.

As Brenda struggled through the three-strand barrier, she ripped her blouse on a rusty barb. Uttering a black oath and moaning at the loss of her favorite top, she detected a snapping twig and froze.

"Oh, no!" she whispered as she pulled the snagged sleeve free.

Falling through the fence, Brenda dropped her knife. Not waiting around to find her fallen weapon, she fled across the uneven ground toward a small stand of oak trees.

"It's OK, Brenda; it's just your imagination. Probably just a deer or a squirrel. It's not a rapist murderer…please God, don't let it be a rapist murderer!"

To her horror, a bright beam of light illuminated the foliage around her, confirming her worst fears. Brenda felt trapped, but she wasn't giving up without a fight.

Carefully avoiding the beam, she bent over and found a loose rock light enough for her to lift over her head.

With a wild scream, Brenda swung the stone down as Maggie moved past her hiding place.

Alerted by Brenda's loud, high-pitched scream, Maggie sidestepped to her right. The descending stone, instead of braining her, landed a glancing but painful blow on her shoulder. Caught off-balance, Maggie tripped on an exposed root and went down hard on the uneven ground. Like a screaming banshee, Brenda attacked the fallen woman and soon they were rolling around on the ground.

Less than five minutes later, Brenda found herself pinned to the ground with Maggie sitting on her chest.

"Where's Zack Cole?" asked Maggie shining the blinding light in Brenda's face.

"Go to hell!"

"I don't have time for this, Blondie. Tell me where your boyfriend is before it's too late."

"You're not getting the vessel! I just talked to my mom, so you can tell old man Beck that he can just go to hell, too!"

"What did you say?" asked Maggie.

"I said, tell your boss he's out of luck; now get off of me!"

Maggie pulled her pistol free and put it to Brenda's head. Brenda's protests died in her throat.

"Listen to me carefully," said Maggie. "First, I don't work for John Beck, and the last thing I want is for that creep to get hold of the vessel. Second, if I did work for Beck, I would have already shot you for nearly breaking my shoulder with that stupid rock. I'm here to make sure you and your dumb-ass boyfriend don't destroy the world."

Maggie replaced her gun in her holster and got to her feet.

"Well if you don't work for Beck, how did you know about the vessel and the creature? Are you with the police?"

"I'm not a cop. A little birdie told me you and Zack were trying to find the vessel to ransom a kidnapped woman. Your mother, I believe?"

"Somehow, my father is in with Beck; he used me and Zack," said Brenda. "I found awhile ago that it was all a lie. That's why I am tramping around these god-forsaken woods trying to stop Zack."

"How did you find out about the creature?"

"I know about the creature from an old journal Zack and I found. It sounded crazy, but now I know it was true."

Brenda looked up at Maggie and switched on her flashlight.

"OK, so you don't work for Beck and you’re not a cop; who are you and how do you, know about the jar?"

"A long story, Blondie, that we don't have time for, but believe me: I'm one of the good guys," Maggie said. "After the vessel is safe, I'll tell you all about it. Truce?"

Brenda looked at Maggie a moment then said, "OK, looks like I don't have a choice."

"My name is Brenda, by the way, not Blondie."

"Maggie," she said extending her hand and helping a bruised and disheveled Brenda up from the rocky ground.

***

Beck's group sat around a circular dinner table in Mrs. Anderson's dining room. The witch set before each of them a cup and matching saucer. Playing the perfect hostess, she poured everyone a steaming cup of tea and set out a plate of lemon cookies.

"What's the matter, Mr. White?" asked the schoolteacher sweetly. "You look nervous as a cat."

Harold glared at her but remained silent.

"This all fine and good," said Beck, "but we aren’t here for a social call."

"Patience, John," she said. "Everything must be exact and the timing perfect or you could doom us all. So drink your tea while I prepare the vessel."

"Good tea," said Stacy taking a sip.

Jan watched warily as the others tried the tea. Seeing no ill effects from the group, she too took a sip.

Helping herself to a cookie, Jan failed to notice that Stacy's eyes began to droop.

"I feel…funny," Stacy began then she slumped in her chair.

"You drugged us, you…"Jan said, as she struggled to rise. Jan collapsed and fell out of her chair.

"Now, we can begin," said the schoolteacher with a wicked grin. "Mr. White, Mr. Cody, please help our guests into the basement."

Harold gently picked up Jan and cradled her in his arms, while Jeff slung Stacy over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. With Mrs. Anderson leading the way, they passed through a door and down a long, narrow staircase.

Dana rose and began to follow, but Beck put out his hand and stopped her.

"Trust me, Miss Kirby, you don't want to know."

***

After half an hour, Harold and Jeff rejoined Dana and Beck. Harold sat down next to Dana and took her hand. In his eyes, for the first time, she saw fear.

"If we both live to be a hundred, never ask me about the basement," he whispered.

The witch appeared at the basement door with a large sack of salt. Carefully, she poured a thick stream across each doorway and windowsill of the room, all while chanting in a weird and unknown language.

"I warn you now. Stay in this room, it is protected. Regardless of what you hear, do not go outside this room or enter the basement. In fact, don’t go near the windows or even attempt to look outside. It could cost you your life…and more."

The lights suddenly extinguished and hundreds of hidden black candles blazed to life, making Dana and Jeff jump.

***

For close to an hour, the four sat at the table engaged in awkward small talk, periodically giving the basement door a nervous glance.

In the midst of a bizarre story about Cody, two Mexican prostitutes, and a mule, the quiet house shook ever so faintly with the unmistakable sound of thunder.

"Must be a coming storm," said Cody as he munched on his fifth cookie.

"The weather report said we don't have a chance of rain for at least a week," stated Dana. "Wrong, as usual."

A crash of rolling thunder shook the house.

"That's right on top of us," Cody said. "Man, that storm's moving fast."

Through the basement door, they heard a high-pitched scream and Jeff jumped to his feet. His chair tipped over hitting the hardwood floor with a loud bang.

"Sit down, Mr. Cody," commanded Beck.

Sheepishly, the big man picked up his chair and resumed his seat.

The horrifying screams and thunder together rose in volume as if in competition.

Nervously, Dana lit a cigarette.

"Do you have to do that?" asked Jeff. "Bad enough stuck here in Hell House, do we have to get lung cancer, too?"

"Yes, I do!" she shouted back. "If I were you, Jeff, I would keep my big mouth shut, before I shut it for you!"

"The two of you be quiet!" said Harold. "Do you hear that? What is that scratching sound?"

The soul-freezing screams of Jan and Stacy had ceased, but the volume of thunder continued to escalate to the point that the group thought they were under siege by an artillery barrage.

"What are you talking about, Harold?" whispered Dana.

"Don't you hear it?"

She listened intently, and between the sharp cracks of thunder, she heard it.

"Oh my God!" she said as fear clutched her heart.

It was as if dozens of razor-sharp claws were dragging slowly across the rooms' three windows.

They all jumped at a loud crash and the sound of breaking glass that had come from upstairs. There was the thumping sound of several heavy footsteps crossing the floor above them along with an odd, unnerving, wet sliding sound.

Harold, Dana, and Jeff produced their firearms, whereupon Beck merely chuckled and lit a cigar.

Dana clutched at Harold's arm so tightly that he thought she would cut off his circulation.

"Look at the old man," he whispered to Dana.

"Why, he looks almost joyful," she said.

"I've never seen him look so happy."

A feeling of extreme oppression filled the room as if fear itself had become something physical; something tangible you could hold in your hand. The temperature dropped drastically as well, and suddenly, the room was filled with the sound of voices all softly whispering and laughing in an unknown tongue.

Cody cringed at the weird voices that seemed to be not so much around him but inside his head, inside his very soul.

"I can't take this shit anymore!" he screamed as he leaped to his feet.

"Sit down, Mr. Cody, and calm yourself," said Beck. "This will pass. They want you to panic. This room is protected; they can't harm you here."

"I can't…I have to get out!"

"Sit down and act like you have a backbone, you fool!"

"Screw you, old man, I'm out of here!"

The big man rushed from the protection on the room. Moments later the house echoed with Mr. Cody’s screaming and the sound of gunfire. Both the gunfire and screams abruptly stopped with a grisly wet, snapping sound.

Dana buried her face in Harold's chest and he wrapped his arms around her.

"What have we done?" she whispered.

 

21

 

"Zack believes the vessel was in a cave, but I don't have a clue where."

Brenda tried in vain to wipe the dirt from her hands.

"Why does the outdoors have to be so dirty?" she muttered.

"If you knew about the creature and what it is capable of, why were you still looking for it?" asked Maggie.

"Zack doesn't believe it. He thinks it's some wild tale by a demented man. Zack is just trying to help my mom and me. He thinks the Collamarr is just some valuable antique that the kidnappers want for ransom. I only found out this afternoon the truth about the creature."

"Before or after you sent Zack off looking for it?"

Brenda averted her eyes. "Does it matter?"

"So, knowing the full danger, you let him go after it anyway!" Maggie exclaimed. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Don't you dare judge me, you Amazon bitch! My mother is all I have left!"

"I understand you love your mother, but that thing could kill millions, you selfish brat!"

"Don't judge me," Brenda said softly. "I did what I had to do."

Disgusted with Brenda, Maggie scanned the area with her light.

"This area is at least ninety acres, so to cover more ground we have to split up," said Maggie.

"OK," said Brenda.

"Wait a minute, Brenda, let me see your flashlight."

Brenda gave Maggie her flashlight. Maggie took the yellow plastic cylinder, and with a mighty heave, tossed it spinning into the darkness.

"Hey why did you do that? I borrowed that!"

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