The keepers, p.36
The Keepers, page 36
When they were prisoners in the lodge they had struggled against the ropes and tried to find ways to free each other. Despite Andy’s instinct that they were to wait it was impossible to simply do nothing. When the noise from the raucous party had grown louder they became bolder, banging around trying to jar open a drawer to find something with which to cut the ropes. And Jessie had lunged at the window with her shoulder to shatter the glass and scream for help. With the noise and drinking downstairs they might not notice a breaking window. But it had been no use. She couldn’t produce enough momentum to even crack the pane. Besides, the lodge grounds were deserted. They had been alone with their captors. Now, in this place of overwhelming evil, hope of escape drifted further and further away, as distant and unattainable as the shimmering evening star.
Across the cavern Andy, still caught in a web of rough rope, huddled against the wall. He was staring at a space midway between them, intently watching something that Jessie could not see. His crystal sea-colored eyes widened and he slowly nodded. For an instant Jessie stirred with renewed hope then it quickly faded. Nothing Andy saw could possible do any good now. For a while she had clung to the belief that Jack was working toward their rescue. But that hope flickered and died, too. If Jack were still alive he would have come by now. The thought of these evil creatures doing whatever they wished, with no one to stop them, was unbearable. Jessie’s hatred rose like a towering flame. The heat of it was enough to bring on spontaneous combustion. Her powerlessness fueled her anger and frustration. As she watched The Group, calm and arrogant, going about their preparations Jessie trembled with impotent fury.
Melanie, in a clinging black silk gown and matching hooded cape, brought a small polished oaken table and placed it between the altar and the ten throne-like chairs. Then she covered it with a red lace cloth. From a leather case, that gleamed like mahogany, she lifted out ten silver goblets and a large silver bowl. She carefully set them on the lace-covered table along with a sharp pointed dagger, a wide, gleaming cleaver, and two large butcher knives.
In the flickering red and yellow light from the wall sconces the array of knives flashed silver-white. The cutting instruments seemed forged from pure silver, polished to a blinding brilliance. Still, they can’t be silver, Jessie reasoned. The metal is far too soft for the work ahead. The observation struck Jessie as wildly funny. She lost control and began to laugh hysterically. Melanie glided across the floor to where Jessie lay on the rock and, with the practiced indifference she had used in setting out the implements of death, slapped Jessie. The sharp powerful blow snapped Jessie’s head back, thumping it against the stone. Pain shot through her and once more her mind was exquisitely attuned to the terror. Melanie went on with her duties, moving as silently as a slithering black snake through its underground realm.
The men wore hooded black robes of the same whispering silk as Melanie’s gown. Stan and nine members strolled about the cavern or gathered in small groups talking in hushed tones as if they were in the chamber of some great cathedral awaiting the start of services. The eleventh man, also in a ceremonial robe, slumped in the end chair on the dais. He constantly refilled the glass in his hand from the bottle at his side. He drank and drank. The emptying of each glass seemed to bring more sobriety. The lines around his mouth deepened and his eyes were smoldering charcoal pits, offering up a smoky black doomed bitterness. The others drifted about in contentment as if they were the sedated ones.
Denise floated along behind Melanie. Denise wore a gown of crimson blood red. She appeared to be a heat-less flame weaving among the shining black silk pillars. As she glided between Jessie and Andy, carrying away the leather case, her face was ivory pale and rock hard, a living cameo. Jessie’s heart split with pain.
“Denise,” she said as the girl passed.
Her daughter’s name left a mix of gall and honey on her lips. Denise swiveled to the right with the slowness of a dreamer. There was not the slightest flicker of recognition anywhere in the depths of her glistening ebony eyes. The utter hopelessness and abject despair of hell pressed against Jessie. Each breath she took was a Herculean effort. The daughter Jessie had raised was dead, lost to the darkness.
A red fog seeped in around the walls of the cavern. It swirled and grew. It filled the air like vaporized blood. A heavy sorrow pressed down on Jessie. She was filled with an aching sadness. And she heard a sly, simpering voice sliding through the mist chuckling and crowing in boastful vanity.
The Group’s leader had arrived.
Jessie stiffened. She saw Andy’s head jerk up, his chalk white face contorted with terror and revulsion. Awareness among The Group heightened. A current of excitement shot through the air. “Aye. Canna ye feel it?” Terrance said to Stan and Robert. In his exuberance MacDermott’s accent thickened and his piercing eyes caught and held each man in turn. “Dinna ye ken what powers will be ours after this night? We’ve nay brought the Master so soon before. It’s well pleased he must be with this offering.” The three men strolled out of Jessie’s hearing and she gagged on rising bile.
Like the members, the evil presence in the cavern was relaxed and at its leisure. It filled the soaring heights like a vast poisonous cloud, rolling and turning upon itself in sensuous pleasure, totally absorbed in its own pride. A being fawning love upon itself, it soaked up the adoration and hungered for more. It wrapped its servants in coils of languor, feeding off of them and at the same time nurturing them for the perpetuation of more evil. What the men had promised Stan was true, as true and as real as the being that swelled and strutted and pranced with self-satisfaction at this rite of its worship.
Jessie’s anger and disgust rose to a crescendo. She bit her tongue to keep from screaming. She and Andy were not prey for these foul beings. They must fight, even if only in spirit, until they could fight no more.
Merely thinking about it gave Jessie an infusion of strength. She had to share it with Andy, let him know that there was a way to conquer the terror and pain.
“Andy,” Jessie whispered, “Look at me.”
Andy raised his head. In the cool crystal depths of his eyes rested a startling wisdom. He seemed to read her every thought. When she started to speak a dazzling brilliance flashed from him, it silenced her. They communicated without words, transferring silent thoughts.
It’s okay, Mother. I know. They are evil and wrong and can never really win. They have made their choice, even Daddy and Denise. Don’t try to save them.
Jessie’s mind whirled in a dizzy spin, what was Andy telling her? They couldn’t save Stan and Denise, They couldn’t even save themselves. Andy’s white penetrating stare gripped her.
You can’t choose for other people, you have to give up. Let them go and follow me.
As his thoughts floated toward her they seemed to part the air, burning a searing trail through the cloud of evil. She didn’t understand and started to question him, but Andy drifted away. His eyes no longer saw her. He sat silent as a totem. She had wanted to give Andy a measure of strength and comfort, to help him endure the coming torture, but the task had been taken from her. He was beyond reach. Perhaps his strange sense had come to save him, taking him to wander in a safer world.
“It is time!” Chester Stanhope made the announcement and the others began to assemble.
The nine old members slowly marched past the altar and seated themselves in the red velvet chairs. Marius weaved drunkenly, then haughtily drew up and cast the others an icy glare.
“Where I now sit, so shall you all.” Marius’s words slurred and he tottered again.
No one looked in his direction.
“You will hear me. Where I now...”
“Melanie,” Robert waved her forward. “Attend to our brother.”
Melanie nodded and produced a small brown vial from the folds of her gown. She quickly moved to Marius and raised the small bottle to his lips, tipping his head back until he swallowed. Then he took it from her and eagerly emptied it. Order was restored and Stan knelt before the dais. Melanie took Denise’s hand and led her to a place to the left of the chairs.
Chester Stanhope rose, the black robe billowing over his round body, and locked his fat hands around his protruding belly.
“We are here in the presence of our Master to do him homage and honor.” His voice swelled and echoed in the hollowness. The thin blood-red mist swirled across the floor like rolling night fog. A low moaning chant came from the others.
“We bow to thee and to thee only,” they chanted.
“We bring the perfect sacrifice, two of the vile and loathsome breed that continue to deny your right and proper place. We present their bodies as proof of our loyalty and vow that before their souls depart they too shall proclaim you king.”
We bow to thee and to thee only...” came the answering chorus.
“On this your night of nights we send our dearly beloved brother, Marius Trello, to be with you forever. And present for your approval his replacement, Stanley Andrew Nolan. Imperfect now, but soon to be filled with your glory and power.”
“We bow to thee and to...”
“The hell you say!”
Jack’s ragged cry boomed from the crevice and bounced from the rock walls. It shot through the evil cloud that had grown to billowing proportions with each of Stanhope’s words. The cavern walls flamed with glowing angry iridescent shades of red, rust, and maroon. The mist thickened, twisting into fat heavy coils like a monstrous serpent. Then Jack stepped into view on the narrow ledge of the fissure.
“Don’t a one of you sons-of-whores move! See this?” Jack held two wires out over a battery at his feet. “The flutter of an eyelash and it is over...for everyone!”
Not a member of The Group moved. Then Roland Perry slowly raised his hand in a calming gesture.
“Mr. Tanner. You are a persistent man, but surely you see the folly of your plan. You know we cannot be destroyed. Have you forgotten your failure at the garage?”
Jack’s eyes raged with fire and an icy smile flashed from his dark face.
“No, I haven’t forgotten. I haven’t forgotten for a minute of the six years since you slaughtered my child. Now I’ll give you reason to remember the name Tracy Tanner. When these wires connect with this battery the whole mountain goes. Your black tongue would rot if the truth ever touched it, but I hope you do live forever... beneath a thousand tons of Ozark clay and rock!”
Melanie clutched Denise’s shoulders, her white fingers sinking like talons into the soft red velvet. Stan remained on his knees, the stiffness of his back revealed the tension under his robe. Robert Milton made a hesitant move and Stanhope lifted his hand to stay him.
“I say, Tanner,” Stanhope said. “What is it you want? We are reasonable men. And with the power to grant your every wish, provided it doesn’t conflict with our plans.”
“Your lies make me sick. You are not reasonable. You are not even men. What I want from you is that you let them two go, or I blow us up.”
Jessie jerked her shoulders several inches off the stone altar. “Do it, Jack. It’s our chance to win. Anything that stops them is worth the price.”
Jessie imagined the gigantic explosion and the rumbling as the cavern collapsed. They would be crushed and cheat the evil monsters. Any death was better than dying at their hands. If Jack could seal them up forever that was victory enough. As if Jack read her thoughts he threw his head back and laughed. The sound clanged like a bell in the underground cavern and echoed out through the lesser chambers. There were many ways to die and not all of them were bad.
He was going to do it! Jessie closed her eyes and said goodbye to the world and to those she loved. A strange and eerie death but not without purpose. And therein made the difference.
“Tanner! Wait!” Robert called. “You can’t be sure we’ll be trapped. Give us a minute. You don’t want to kill the woman and the boy.” Robert’s voice spun out across the cavern like a silken web snaring Jack’s hand.
“You’ll let them go?”
“Let us talk first, then we’ll see.”
“Jack, don’t listen,” Jessie pleaded.
“Mr. Tanner,” Andy broke his silence. “Let them talk, please. I can’t explain right now.”
Andy’s request ripped Jessie out of her obsession to destroy The Group at any cost. She had agreed to let Andy guide if the chance for escape came, but did he know of a way out? Or was Andy so frightened that he would say anything? Still, maybe Andy had received a message and she had no right to seal his fate. She could not speak for others, how hard that was to learn. Jack ignored Andy and stared at Jessie.
She nodded.
“A minute...” Jack trembled with pent-up energy. “...but one move I don’t like and we go.”
The Group flocked together, a conclave of vultures, their hoods forming a black circle. Only Trello, Melanie, and Denise remained apart. Trello watched with glazed indifference; Melanie and Denise fluctuated between blazing hatred and trembling anxiety. Jessie looked at Andy and hoped to find assurance that letting the creatures talk was the right action. But his eyes were closed and his face was as pale as death.
Andy was gone again.
The demon hissed in Jessie’s ear, whispering foul degrading secrets, staining her with knowledge of things that Stan and Denise had already done in his name. In seconds The Group broke, all but Robert taking their original positions.
“Mr. Tanner,” Robert said. “We have arrived at our decision. We want to thank you. It is obvious you are an instrument for the testing of our faith. We welcome such trials, each one gives us greater power, we need only to trust and obey. Do you think you are the first to confront us with such puny efforts? Between us we have thousands of years experience in dealing with you inferior beings. It has been proven again and again that remaining steadfast in our loyalty and duty we are carried to greater heights of power.
“Whenever you are ready, explode your toy. It doesn’t matter how our sacrifices die. It may take us a short while to come out of the debris, but we will. Your good Ozark clay and rock will hide nothing but your own burial place.”
“Another lie,” Jack shouted.
“Is it? The pity for you is that you will never know. If you kill yourself who will live to see the proof of what I say? You have three choices, my brutish fellow. Leave us in peace to perform our ceremony, ignite your explosives, or remain tottering on that ledge and we will attack. You cannot kill us, only yourself and the others.”
Jessie and Jack exchanged looks full of unanswerable questions. If Robert were bluffing he was a master at the game. The swirling reddish fog deepened and rolled against the rock walls, it condensed there and ran like rivulets of blood. The cavern reeked of foul corruption.
Andy twisted toward Jack. “Please don’t do it. If we die now we won’t be here to stop them later.”
“Your boy is crazy, Jessie,” Jack called across the space.
An aura of icy blue-white shimmered around Andy. Jessie blinked and it was gone. She shook her head and looked again, the glimmering lights appeared and then flickered and faded. It was hard to tell if she had actually seen it or if it was a stress-induced illusion. The Group cast wicked, gleeful smiles at one another. If even one of them felt a trace of fear it wasn’t visible.
The presence in the cavern became stronger, a vile sulphur stench stung Jessie’s nose and the strength she had gathered drained away. One word from her and Jack would end it for them, but would that be the end? Perhaps they would only be doing The Group a favor. There was no way of knowing what part of Robert’s statement was true and what part lies. Bets down, ladies and gents. You pay your money and take your chance. Jessie studied her son’s solemn upturned face, its clay-colored freckles scattered beneath eyes as clear as spring water. What did he know, if anything, that could help them? Jessie swallowed and placed her bet.
“Jack, do as Andy says.”
“No. I came here to do a job and I mean to do it. You there, Melanie! Get over there and untie them. Your friends may not be scared of crazy old Jack, but I doubt you’re so fond of having a mountain fall on you. Get them loose and I’ll let you run before I blow it.”
Melanie was paste white under her black hood, fear ripped through her glittering eyes. She made a dive for the red lace covered table. As her hand closed around the handle of the silver dagger Terrance lunged off his chair. He clasped his hands together and brought them down on the back of Melanie’s neck. She dropped without a sound, the knife clattered onto the stone floor.
Chester Stanhope swelled with evil triumph. “You’ve trapped yourself, man. Come across the hallowed cave and release them if you dare, you’ll be killed before you reach them. Or stay there and explode your device. You’ll make it our most glorious ceremony. We will go forth with greater power than ever.”
Tears of frustration slid down Jessie’s cheeks and soaked the hair at her temples. The fear of death was gone, replaced with racking bitter defeat. She, Jack, and Andy could die and only delay The Group’s evil. Across the cavern Jack’s image blurred like a running watercolor.
“Save yourself, Jack” Jessie heard the tired, old sound to her voice. “One of us must live to fight again.”
Melanie stirred on the floor of the cave and Denise hurried to help her stand. They huddled together beside the line of chairs.
Jack’s moment of decision grew near; pain, hatred, sorrow, and anger flashed across his face. He could delay no longer. He licked his lips and made a half move toward ripping the rest of the wrapping off the wires.
Then, waddling into the cavern from the tunnel under the ruin, Posey Dolass made straight for Andy. The mist recoiled from Posey. The retreating edges turned a charred black. There was a loud sizzling hiss, like water hitting red hot steel.
Andy’s face glowed.
“Posey. I knew you would come, and you make it on time.”
As if they were alone Posey took out his pocket knife and cut the ropes on Andy’s wrists.
“Most got lost, but you called out good and clear.”
