by R L Delaney
What would be next? Amy folded her hands and looked down, preparing herself for whatever else would be happening.
For some minutes nothing happened. Without daring to look up, Amy figured Sternfoot and Rigby were just waiting until the Desastrotrax was fully working and had properly intoxicated her fellow students. She cast a quick glance at Johnny Delano. He seemed to be in a strange, far away maze of emptiness. He most certainly was no longer at home.
At that moment Sternfoot's voice broke through the silence. A shock went through Amy's body as she realized the man was speaking in Latin.
"Principes in tenebris, et venerunt epuléntur nobíscum. Parati sumus fecit festum."
Amy did not speak Latin. Not even a single word. And yet, as clear as if Sternfoot had been speaking in English, she understood what the man was saying.
Rulers of darkness, come and dine with us. We have made ready the feast
Johnny Delano opened his mouth, but it wasn't his normal speech that came out. A low, dark voice from somewhere deep within, shouted, "Finally, the time has come. We are being set free. We will roam the earth and possess the land for our king."
From everywhere other voices gurgled up. Dark sayings and weird utterances rolled out of the mouths of the other students, none of them in recognizable voices.
Amy desperately hoped this nightmare would soon be over. She tilted her head slightly and peered through semi-closed eyelids at the front of the class, so she could see what Sternfoot and Rigby were doing. Both men seemed in some sort of trance themselves as they had lifted their arms up into the air and were mumbling unintelligible words and phrases.
From the back, Billy Bratmeyer's mouth flapped open, but Amy was certain it was not Billy that spoke. A weird, high-pitched voice with a strange, foreign accent yelled out, "It's the parents we need to turn against. The parents are our next step."
Other distorted and hoarse voices joined in and yelled out their agreement. "The parents… We will turn the children against the parents, and the parents against the children. It's the very next step."
Amy could stand it no longer. She wanted to run, or hide, or do both things at the same time. What horrible power did these Shadow Walkers possess? Would Brother Perpetiël know how evil they really were?
And then, all at once, almost as if someone had turned off the power, the commotion stopped. Nobody spoke anymore. Not another word was uttered, and a deep silence fell over the room. The only thing Amy heard was the labored breathing of several of her fellow class mates and the creaking of Sternfoot's chair, as the wicked chemistry teacher, apparently exhausted by what had just transpired, sank down into its cushioned seat.
Amy dared to open her eyes all the way. Sternfoot's eyes were firmly closed and so were Rigby’s. The man was still standing, leaning on one of his crutches, while he had one arm raised towards the ceiling and his lips were moving as if he were speaking without making a sound. Most of her fellow students had their eyes closed as well. The ones who had their eyes open all had that strange empty gaze.
At last Sternfoot leaned forward and opened his eyes and cleared his throat as if to signify the whole thing was over. He glanced around the room and got up from his chair. "Well done, class," he spoke while still breathing heavily. "And this… was only the beginning. Everybody can open their eyes now."
All eyes opened. Everyone stared at the teacher.
"Well…?" Sternfoot said with a smile. "What do you think of Desastrotrax?"
"It's wonderful," the whole class droned in unison in army fashion.
Sternfoot smiled some more. The victory was clear. "Will you be faithful to hang on to your little pouch?" he asked again.
"Yes, Sir. We will." Came the reply from all, except from Amy.
"Good," Sternfoot nodded. "The effect of the Desastrotrax will wane, which is why you have to be faithful with your pouch. You may not share any of what you have felt, or experienced tonight with your parents. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Sir!"
"We do not discuss this meeting at school or anywhere else… Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir!"
"Well done, class… well done." Sternfoot repeated himself. Then he fell back into his seat while he let out a satisfied sigh. "Remember… this week we will focus on the parents. Then, next week we will have another one of these unifying blasts with Desastrotrax." He pursed his lips and rubbed his forehead with one hand. The whole ordeal seemed to have taken a lot of his strength. "Class dismissed."
The students pushed their chairs away. Amy heaved a sigh of relief. The familiar sound of the scraping of the chairs over the floor that indicated the lesson was over had never been so welcome as today. The students stumbled out of the chemistry lab, still in a daze, and Amy walked out together with Johnny Delano. She hoped she could pass by Sternfoot undetected as Johnny Delano's sturdy bulk would keep her out of Sternfoot's sight.
"Not so fast, Miss Stenson."
Amy froze. Sternfoot had been looking for her, and just as Johnny and she were passing by him , he reached over the desk and grabbed her by the shoulder a second time. It caused another shudder to course through Amy's body.
Get your dirty hands off my shoulder.
"Yes, Mr. Sternfoot?" Amy answered mechanically.
Sternfoot stared at her with an intense expression and licked his lips. "Get me Justin Ames, Miss Stenson. That will be your mission this week."
Amy pressed her lips together, and while she put on the emptiest and dullest stare she could muster, she glanced up and said, "Yes, Sir. I will. Anything else, Sir?"
Sternfoot kept his hand resting on Amy's shoulders, and to Amy it felt like a block of lead was resting upon her. Why did he not let her go? Did he suspect anything?
"Did you like the meeting, Miss Stanson?" he asked at last.
"Very much so, Mr. Sternfoot," Amy said in the same manner she had heard some others talk.
"I am glad to hear that, Miss Stenson."
Please dear God, make this man move.
Amy had not finished her little prayer, before Sternfoot took his hand off her shoulder. He chuckled and seemed convinced Amy was firmly under the spell of the Desastrotrax as well. Good. The wicked man did not suspect a thing. At least that part of the mission had been a success.
"Now Miss Stenson, that will be all for you," Sternfoot concluded. "Enjoy the rest of your evening."
Seconds later Amy stood in the corridor of Dewsbury High. She had to hurry. All the other students had already left. Justin and the others would worry about her. As she made her exit, she still looked back over her shoulder and saw Sternfoot rubbing his hands while Principal Rigby slapped him on the shoulder.
Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness, who put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter.
The still, small voice that she had come to rely on spoke to her heart again. As she ran down the stairs a deep sense of peace enveloped her. Everything was going to work out fine. How? She had no idea, but she was certain the power of the Elixir would break the might of the Shadow Walkers, and that filled her with joy.
Chapter Four
The strange prophet walked through the wet streets of Dewsbury with big, wide steps and soon came to the edge of town. Harrison tried to keep up the pace, but could barely follow. "Come on," the prophet said when they were just passing by the chicken shack Harrison had been hiding behind earlier. He seemed impatient. "We still have a ways to go."
Harrison was thankful the prophet was taking him out of town and at this point he didn't even mind the rain. They were a sorry sight, and anyone seeing them rush out of town would have certainly wondered about them and possibly called the police. The prophet in his soaked robe, his long, dripping hair, and washed out sign on the broomstick, was a spectacle by himself, but Harrison knew he didn't look all that much better. His face was scratched, and after his many dives behind bushes, trees and chicken shacks, his clothes were muddy and stained.
The road they were on would lead into a vast forest at the foot of the Wintervale Mountains. At last they left the town behind and after they crossed several large fields that seemed to stretch on forever they reached the forest.
The prophet turned around and for the first time Harrison detected somewhat of a smile. "Almost there," he said. Harrison didn't know what else to do, but nod. He was glad to be out of the rain soon, although he wasn't too sure what sort of place he would encounter. Still, anything would be a thousand times better than being locked up by Devonshire in jail, or worse, being shipped off to an asylum under the watchful eye of Richard Sternfoot.
The path they were on was muddy and narrow and soon they were in the middle of the forest. Mighty oaks and towering pines darkened the way and several times Harrison had to protect his face from gnarled branches that hung over the path that had become so narrow, you could barely even call it a path.
"Watch out for the roots," his companion mumbled, trying to be helpful. The warning came just in time as Harrison was about to trip over a large lichen covered root, stepping over it just in time.
At last they came to a clearing next to a wider path and the prophet stopped. A proud smile appeared on his drippy face and he pointed to a spot at the other end of the clearing. "Here we are. Home."
Home?
Harrison stared at a rusty, beat-up Maverick camper van that was parked in the mud. The whole thing had once been bright red, but was now so full of mud stains and moss that it was hard to describe the present color. Behind the passenger seat were two windows and underneath those were painted with fluorescent paint spray the words: "Warning- The end is near."
"Home," the prophet said again and took Harrison by the arm.
"I can walk by myself," Harrison spoke in protest, but the prophet shook his long-haired head.
"No, you can't," he answered. "I have set traps all over the place."
"Traps?" Harrison's eyes widened. "You mean you catch rabbits?"
"No, no, no," the prophet shook his head again. "Rabbits are innocent." He turned to Harrison with a questioning look in his eyes. "You don't eat rabbits, do you?"
Harrison scratched his head. "No, not really… I mean, I ate one at a Christmas party at the police station a few years ago."
"No good. That's no good," the prophet mumbled. "Rabbits are innocent, and so are the squirrels and the birds. They are all innocent. No, the traps are to warn me when they come."
Harrison's eyes widened. This fellow really lost his marbles. All of them. "Who is coming?"
The prophet looked up, anger in his eyes. "The Walkers of course." He pulled Harrison by the arm and began to carefully navigate through the mud field. When he had zigzagged through the field for about five feet, he stopped abruptly and pointed to the ground. "You see?"
Harrison stared down, but did not see anything out of the ordinary. Just mud and a bit of grass. "What? I see nothing."
The prophet chuckled. "I knew I was good. I just knew it." He bent down and pointed to a tuft of grass and some small pebbles. Now Harrison saw it too. A tiny red wire, partly hidden under several leaves, came out from under a bush and was leading into the ground right by the pebbles. "W-What is it?"
"A trap," the prophet replied. "I just told you. Why do you ask everything two times? You're not very smart, are you?"
Harrison licked his lips. He was grateful he was still out of the claws of Sternfoot, but this fellow shouldn't push him too far over the edge. He cleared his throat and said, "I mean, what does it do?"
"Haha," the prophet said. "To explode or not to explode. That's the question."
Harrison's face paled. "Bombs? You've got an actual booby trap there?"
"It's not so bad," the prophet replied. "It explodes, yes, but it only releases a harmless chemical that paralyzes you. And…," he laughed, "… it makes lots of wonderful noises."
Harrison paled some more. "It paralyzes you? I almost walked into this thing." He gritted his teeth and howled, "What's wrong with you?"
The prophet stared at Harrison, his face in question mode. "There's nothing wrong with me. It's the world that's wrong. And I kept you from walking into this trap, didn't I?" He shook his head in disgust. "And don't worry about that word 'paralyze'. After about an hour you can use all your limbs again as if you were a newborn baby."
Harrison pressed his lips together and decided not to say anything.
"But you need to follow me," the prophet went on, "as I’ve got lots of those traps here." He lifted both his arms and cried in a joyful voice,
"Traps to keep me safe.
Traps to make me brave.
Traps to bring the walkers down.
Traps to lead me to my crown."
Harrison wasn't sure whether or not he should stay around much longer. Something had clearly disturbed this poor fellow's mind. But he was so cold and wet. In a normal situation, a horrible camper like that would be the last place he would want to visit. But everything was very abnormal. Maybe he should stay, if only for just a few hours, so he could figure out his next step.
"I get it," Harrison said. "I'll follow."
"Good," the prophet said. "I am glad you are seeing the light. You just stay close." He looked deep into the detective's eyes as he tilted his head. "I wouldn't want to have to build new traps just because you mess up my whole plan of defense."
"Sure," Harrison answered in a lame voice. "But what about your beloved rabbits? Do they not step on them?"
The prophet's eyes widened. "Oh no, no, no. Of course not. The rabbits know… the deer and the squirrels too. You see…," he leaned closer to Harrison and whispered, "…I told them. They know how to get to my home."
Harrison couldn't help it, and he didn't want to be offensive, but he burst out laughing. "You mean the animals all come to your home for a social visit?"
The prophet narrowed his eyes. "Yes, they do. Every night around dinner." He shook his head as he clearly could not comprehend Harrison's lack of intelligence. "What's wrong with that? They know how to avoid the traps and we eat together. They are smarter than you. Much smarter."
Harrison shook his head. Poor deluded fellow. But he would not argue with the man. Just a few hours would be all he needed.
"So, just hold on to me," the prophet said. But then he looked up as if a new thought had struck him. "You still want to come don't you? You still want to discuss the Walkers."
Harrison nodded. "Yes, prophet, I want to discuss the Walkers."
The prophet's eyes widened and he stared at Harrison with a dumbfounded expression. "H-How did you know my name?"
Harrison raised his brows. "I don't understand? What name?"
"My name," the prophet said. "How did you know my name is Prophet?"
Harrison sighed. Dear God, please help me to be patient. "Just guessing, Prophet. Just guessing."
"Amazing," Prophet mumbled. Then he looked up with new light in his face. "I guess you are smarter than I thought. Come on, we must go. There's a lot to discuss."
As soon as the lesson was over and Amy had freed herself from Sternfoot’s staring eyes, she ran through the corridor. The distance from the chemistry lab to the main entrance of Dewsbury High was considerable, but if some sort of speed record existed, Amy would have surely broken it that evening. When she came to the front she almost crashed into Billy Bratmeyer and Broderick, who were both standing near the door effectively blocking the entrance, with their little pouches pressed against their noses and were enthusiastically sniffing the scent.
Great, Just what I need.
"Amy," Billy said as he saw who was running down the stairs. He stopped sniffing and stared at her, still with that same, strange stare. His voice was flat, and void of any emotion, almost as if he were dreaming up some sort of memorized message.
"How wonderful are the ways of them whose shoelaces
we are not worthy to unleash, don't you think?" Amy slowed down. There was no way of passing Billy or Broderick without pushing them violently aside. "Yes, Billy…absolutely."
"It was a good meeting… a very good meeting." Billy went on. Amy felt the urge to shake him, and yank him out of that weird, lethargic spirit, but right now she needed to leave.
"Mind-blowing, Billy. Absolutely." As she looked into Billy's dead pan face, she felt compassion for the boy. Billy was not the enemy. He was a victim, but right now he was in the way. And so was the old hippie, the smelly Broderick. All of them heavily under the influence of Sternfoot's Desastrotrax. "Would you mind stepping aside. I need to go."
"Go where?" Billy asked, and instead of moving away, he took a step closer to Amy, and to Amy's horror he reached out to her with his grubby hand in a mechanical manner, almost as if he were a robot. Amy jerked back.
"Come with me, Amy," he mumbled in the same monotonous voice, "You are beautiful tonight. We need to celebrate the glories of Desastrotrax. You and me… at my place."
Amy wasn't sure she had heard right. "Excuse me, Billy?"
"At my place. A celebration," Billy continued.
Oh God, deliver me. "Sorry, Billy. I'd love to, but I can't. I got a special assignment from Mr. Sternfoot."
That worked. Billy stepped back. "A special assignment from Mr. Sternfoot? That's good. Very good. What is it?"
"It's a secret, Billy. I can't tell you, but I need to get out of here fast, otherwise I cannot accomplish my mission. Will you please step out of the way?"
"We will. We certainly will," Billy droned on. "Won't we, Mr. Broderick?"
Broderick had not followed the conversation and looked up. "What Mr. Bratmeyer?"
"Move out of the way, so Amy can work."
The man nodded and both men made room. Amy mumbled a quick goodbye and ran outside. Not a second too early as, from the corner of her eye, she saw Sternfoot coming down the stairs.
