Down the Rabbit Hole

by R L Delaney

  As to underline the truth of the Captains words, Principal Rigby lifted up one of his crutches and brought it down with a loud thud.

  Harrison narrowed his eyes. It was clear what was happening. Devonshire's mind was fully under the control of the Shadow Walkers. Could he make a run for it? Jump out of the window perhaps?

  Devonshire leaned back, causing his swivel chair to creak loudly in protest. "You are finished, Harrison Ames."

  "It's the drugs," Sternfoot added, and shook his head while his face held a sad, pitiful expression. "Don't deny it, Detective. You and your evil buddies have used Dewsbury for quite some time for your illegal drug activities. Two people have now died, and it has to stop today. But…," he licked his lips and paused for a second, "… we can still help you."

  Harrison stared at Sternfoot in disbelief. This was such an outrageous and blatant lie that it bordered on the unbelievable.

  "How long have you been using?" Devonshire narrowed his eyes as he stared at the detective.

  "I-I… am not using drugs."

  Sternfoot shook his head in disgust and turned to Devonshire. "He's in denial, Captain. I feared as much. Druggies like him can't help themselves. His behavior is typical. These drugs literally eat their brains. It's awful. Just awful."

  "You are lying," Harrison hissed, even though he knew it wouldn’t do any good to say anything. That strange chemical smell was so strong… it made him dizzy. He needed to get out of here.

  "I will have to place you under arrest," the Captain roared, "and you are going to tell me who your buddies are! Is it that brother of yours maybe, and your nephew Justin Ames?"

  Sternfoot cleared his throat and lifted his hand. "You see how he is reacting?" He shook his head in a compassionate matter while smacking his lips. His wild hair went in all directions. "I've got some good friends at the Clearwater Psychiatric Rehabilitation Centre. There they might still rehabilitate the man. Druggies like him will do anything the Good Book has forbidden us to do. It's so sad, the state this world has fallen into."

  Harrison could not believe his ears.

  "I agree," Principal Rigby entered the conversation. "Considering he is under the influence of drugs, he's hardly to blame for his actions. Jail won't do him much good. With the proper medication and therapy we will yet be able to redeem him."

  Harrison felt the urge rising to knock the man's teeth out, or plant his fist right smack in the middle of his face, but that would not bring him any further.

  "And then to think I trusted you, Harrison." The Captain bit his lower lip and sounded hurt. He turned back to Sternfoot . "I'll call some men to take him away."

  Harrison shivered. What power did these Shadow Walkers have to manipulate people's minds like this?

  Captain Devonshire lifted his hand and smashed the button on his intercom with his fist, yelling for Poppy to come.

  This is your chance, Harrison. If you don't run now, you can't run anymore.

  Poppy opened the door.

  Harrison turned and jumped. He planted both of his hands on the chest of the astonished secretary and pushed the woman to the floor. He hated to do that to poor Poppy and while he sped by, he mumbled an apology. Poppy let out a yell and crashed towards the wooden floor of the office. By the time she hit the ground, Harrison was already outside. For the second time that day he had to force his poor, exhausted body to the limits as he ran and ran, until he reached the outskirts of Dewsbury and hid behind a broken down chicken shack on a deserted plot.

  Chapter Two

  The first thing Amy saw when she opened the entrance door of Dewsbury High was the goofy grin of Mr. Broderick. The old, long-haired janitor stood near the door and was holding a clipboard, while scratching his sweaty hair band with a pen, something he always did when he was excited. He stared at her long and hard.

  "Going to the curriculum too?" he asked at last, his grin now transforming into an actual smile.

  "Yes, I am," Amy replied. "I wouldn't want to miss it for the world." Amy had never liked the janitor in his weird hippie outfit with his outspoken views on freedom and happiness, and today was no exception. Why was the man staring at her so intently?

  A knot formed in her stomach. She was about to step into the lion's den, and although Brother Perpetiël had prayed for her in the truck, still there were plenty of places Amy would rather be at this moment.

  Only minutes earlier she had grabbed Brother Perpetiël's arm and asked him if things could still change. "I can't do this, Mr. Perpetiël. I-I just can't. Can't you go in my place?"

  The old monk had given her a weak smile. "You know I can't do that, Amy. And, of course, you are right. You can't do it… but remember, it's not in you. It's the power of the Elixir that will keep you safe and sound. It's always the power of the Elixir, never you. There's nothing to fear as you have been anointed with the Elixir."

  He had looked deep into her eyes and placed his hand on her head. "I will pray for you, Amy." His prayer had been short and simple, but it had filled Amy with confidence. But now, no longer surrounded by these powerful monks, some of her nervousness had returned.

  "It's going to be grand, Miss Stenson," Broderick said.

  He's deceived. He's under the influence of the Shadow Walkers.

  The words, spoken by a still, small voice, were so clear that Amy shuddered. She turned her head to see if maybe Brother Perpetiël had decided to help her after all, and had walked in after her. He had not. There was no one there besides Broderick. Still, the words had been so loud, and sounded so convincing, she just knew they were true.

  "Glad to hear that, Mr. Broderick," Amy said while looking down. She made a move to pass by him, but he stopped her by placing his hand on her shoulder and pulling her back.

  "Not so fast, Miss Stenson… I need your full name and address please." He tilted his head and pointed to the clipboard with his pen.

  "Why?" Amy raised her brows. "The school knows my name and address."

  "I know," Broderick replied. "It's really your signature I need. If you just sign I will fill in your name and address later."

  Amy stared at the old hippie for a moment and narrowed her eyes. Broderick made an apologetic motion with his hand. "Sorry, Miss Stenson. Orders from Mr. Sternfoot."

  "I won't sign anything," Amy said with a scowl.

  Broderick frowned. "You have to. Can't go to the meeting without signing." He stared at Amy for a second, and tapped impatiently with his pen on the clipboard. "It's not a big deal. Everybody signed. Almost your whole class is here already." He turned the clipboard over and Amy saw the names of most of her classmates. She even noticed the names of Lilly Witherspoon and Sandra Appleby. What had Sternfoot done to lure so many of her classmates to his meeting?

  "Give me the pen," she said, while she wrinkled her nose.

  "Good girl," Broderick pointed to an empty spot on the paper on the clipboard. "Sign there… I'll add the details."

  Amy shook her head and placed a big X on the paper. Broderick wanted to protest but just then Billy Bratmeyer entered as well.

  He seemed his normal self, and let out an enthusiastic cry when he saw her.

  "Amy… You came. Good to see you here." He nodded at Broderick and wanted to move on, but the janitor stopped him too.

  "Sorry Bratmeyer. You need to sign in as well."

  "Sure," Billy smiled and grabbed the pen that Broderick held out for him. "We must hurry, as it's almost seven and we don't want to miss anything."

  When he was done he handed the clipboard back to Broderick and pulled Amy by the arm. "Let's go, Amy."

  Amy shook her head. This was not like Billy at all. Billy, the one student who hated school more than anything else, seemed more enthusiastic about this meeting than watching Monday night football.

  "Wait," Broderick cried out again. "You still need these." His hand disappeared into the red plastic box and came out again, holding two tiny gunny sacks about the size of a matchbox that were attached to a simple string. />
  "What's that?" Amy asked.

  "Those are cool," Billy replied with a big smile and grabbed one of the little sacks out of Broderick's hand and put it around his neck.

  "I know they are cool," Amy protested, "but what are they for?"

  "I don't how they work, but they make you smart," Billy replied, "I got one before from Principal Rigby."

  "Here's yours," Broderick handed the little sack to Amy.

  She placed it against her nose and sniffed. A strong, chemical scent stung her nose and she took a step backwards. "W-What is in it?"

  Broderick shrugged his shoulders again. "I don't know and I don't really care. It's harmless. Look!" He stuck his hand under his shirt and with a proud grin he pulled out a similar sack that was attached to his neck. "I got one too. Mr. Sternfoot says its part of the experiment, although it seems to work best on younger folks."

  "Come on, Amy," Billy said with a note of impatience. "Put it on… we’ve got to go."

  The power of the Elixir will keep you safe.

  There was that still, small voice again, and Amy knew she just had to take it all by faith. Trust had now become the name of the game… Still, that suspicious looking little brown sack full of weird chemicals didn't look too healthy. But the monks were right. She had received the anointing of the Elixir, and now she just needed to trust. If they were going to expose and defeat the Shadow Walkers, this was the way.

  She gave Broderick and Billy a smile, and with a courage she did not feel she placed the brown sack with the rope around her neck. "Let's go Billy. We don't want to be late."

  The chicken shack behind which Harrison was hiding was by no means the perfect hiding place. People coming from the other side would be able to spot him almost instantly, the place was full of debris and pieces of wood, and prickly weeds were sticking out of the ground in all the wrong places. Hardly the place anyone would want to stay for more than a few seconds.

  But it was the only place where he could hide and catch his breath. He just had to stop. After he had jumped over a piece of rotting lumber and avoided stumbling over a slab of cement that was half buried in the mud, he found shelter behind the shack. His breath still came in short gasps as he leaned against the swaying side-panel of the shack, and he felt big drops of sweat rolling down his back.

  At least, from here he had a good view of what was happening and when his breathing had returned to normal he turned and kept his eyes glued on the road he had just come from. He almost expected the squad car from Captain Devonshire or the black Chevrolet Impala from Sternfoot to appear around the corner, but nothing happened. They never showed up.

  The only vehicle that drove by was a garbage truck from Dewsbury's waste processing company, CycleBury Incorporated. Minutes later, Joe Mills passed by, sitting on his tractor. He was apparently in a good mood as he was loudly humming along with a silly radio commercial. For just a moment Harrison considered running up to him and ask for help. But on second thought he decided against it. Joe Mills was an old man and wouldn't understand what was going on. Harrison couldn't risk involving him and his dear wife. He would jeopardize their lives too. When Harrison saw the old man leave in the distance, a deep sense of loneliness welled up. The aging bean farmer represented the gentle, hardworking spirit of the people of Dewsbury, but it seemed all that was now about to change. What these horrible Shadow Walkers were up to, was still not clear, but it was most certainly not their plan to bring peace and prosperity.

  When Harrison felt certain they were not on his trail he squatted down on a piece of broken door, leaned against the shack, and closed his eyes for a moment.

  What now?

  The police were on the look-out for him. They saw him as a dangerous drug pusher who needed to be admitted to an asylum. Harrison shivered as he relived the scene at the Captain's office. Clearly Captain Devonshire was hoodwinked, and no longer in control of his own mind.

  Going home was a bad idea. Most certainly, the captain would have somebody stationed in front of his house. He would be arrested the moment he showed up.

  No, he couldn't go home.

  But he could go to his brother's house. His brother's wife would feed him, he could take a shower, borrow some clothes, and get his strength back. There really wasn't any other option.

  As he was thinking things over he noticed a soft splatter of water on his face. He let out a grunt and opened his eyes. The sky had turned dark and a storm was approaching. Maybe that was to his advantage. Not many people would be out in the rain.

  He peered around the chicken shack again and scanned the area. No one was in sight. The coast was clear. As far as he could see he was on the outskirts of Dewsbury, right near Bilderbrook Lane. That meant his brother's house was not very far and he could make it there in a few minutes. He pulled up the collar of his coat as high as he could and stepped away from behind the chicken shack.

  Now that he was exposed and clearly visible, he almost expected Sternfoot's claws to appear out of nowhere and strangle him, but nothing happened, and Harrison moved quickly away from the shack and moved toward his brother's house.

  It started to rain harder now, but at this stage that was really the least of Harrison's worries. Soon he would be safe, at least for the moment.

  When he came to Garden Grove Lane, the street his brother lived on, he wanted to start running again, but he suppressed the urge. It would only attract unnecessary attention.

  There was his brother's house…

  Harrison froze.

  His heart skipped a beat, as if a dagger was thrust into his inward parts, and a shiver went through his spine. All was not well.

  Right in front of his brother's house, partly parked on the sidewalk and with blue flashing lights, stood the only police van that Dewsbury’s force possessed.

  Officer Frost was just coming out of the house. He descended the three steps that led to the garden path and was followed by Harrison's brother and his wife. Both were handcuffed.

  At last, Captain Devonshire appeared as well. He was carrying Justin's laptop, and slammed the front door closed with his free hand. It closed with such force that the sound reverberated through the street.

  Harrison ducked behind a tree and scolded himself. It had been a mistake to go to his brother's house. He should have known better. The Captain had even mentioned he linked his brother and Justin to Harrison's so-called illegal drug activities. Why had he not thought of that?

  Of course, there was no proof of any wrong-doing. The whole thing was a complete lie, a fabrication that originated in the perverted mind of Sternfoot and the Shadow Walkers.

  But these devils did not need any proof. They were operating on an entirely different plane, and were apparently able to manipulate just about anybody. The people of Dewsbury were about to become soft clay in the hands of wickedness.

  From behind the tree, Harrison saw how his brother and his wife were now locked up in the van. Captain Devonshire jumped behind the wheel and started the motor.

  Another shock went through Harrison's body, and he broke out into a cold sweat.

  They would be coming his direction. In just about a second or two, the van would pass him by and they would surely see him. He could not push himself further down behind the tree, as a massive thorn bush was blocking his way, and at such short notice there was nowhere else to hide. He was like a sitting duck.

  Harrison pushed himself as deep into the bark as he could. When he heard the car coming his way he closed his eyes, hoping the ostrich approach was the right one. If he didn't see them, maybe they wouldn't see him either.

  He tasted the tree as his lips were pushed into the bark. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered as long as he could stay out of the claws of the Shadow Walkers. God, help me.

  Somebody in the van had put on the police siren, and even though Harrison had his eyes firmly shut, he could still see the flashing blue lights through his closed eyelids.

  He half expected the tires of the police van to screec
h to a halt. Just about any second now he would hear the angry shouts of Captain Devonshire: "There he is. Get him."

  But no such words came and the car never stopped. Seconds later they were gone, and Harrison opened his eyes just in time to see the van disappear around the corner.

  He had not been spotted.

  He heaved a sigh of relief; but what now? He was still not safe. Free, but so tired… so very tired. The last few days had been nothing but an odd combination of running and escaping, time and time again, and Harrison knew he could no longer run. He simply lacked the strength. He needed to rest and hide in a corner. But there was no such corner. This whole thing was slowly developing into a virtual nightmare.

  Maybe it would have been better if Devonshire had spotted him. At least then the fight would be over and he could rest. Harrison let his back slide down the tree, not caring about his coat, and landed again on the wet, muddy ground.

  The only hope now lay with that weird monk that had left Dewsbury and had taken Justin and Amy along to visit that mysterious monastery somewhere in the Wintervale Mountains. Thank God they were out of town. It was a small comfort though, as they would be arrested as soon as they set foot in Dewsbury again. There was no way to warn Justin, Amy and that monk.

  He shook his head. No, it was hopeless, and it was only a matter of time before Sternfoot would get him. He glanced at the sky, not caring that the rain was soaking his clothes. It felt good to feel the rain on his face, washing away the sweat and dirt. If only his troubles could be washed away as easily.

  As he stared at his mud-stained pants, as hopeless and desperate as he felt, he couldn't help but chuckle. Anybody that saw him now, sitting against a tree in the middle of a rain storm, dirty and bedraggled, would certainly believe Sternfoot's lie that he was a hopeless drug addict that needed to be shipped off to an asylum. He looked the part.

  The sound of the rushing rain on the pavement was almost comforting. A lonely sound it was, and yet it somehow sounded refreshing and hopeful.