Dark Rite

by David Wood

  The last remaining cult members were now firing with impunity, and the repeated gunshots made a deafening counterpoint to Kaletherex's roars as they echoed around the cave. Grant spotted Elijah roll to one side and come up behind the plinth. He aimed his rifle over Cassie's thrashing, screaming form and fired a well-aimed shot across the cavern.

  Grant never saw if Elijah hit his target. Too late, Grant realized he had been distracted and Kaletherex struck out. One massive, burning hot black arm collected him across his chest and lifted him high, sent him flying backwards through the air. As he flew, he swept the knife around and felt it bite into the flesh of the demon's arm.

  As Grant hit the ground with a bone-jarring impact, Kaletherex screamed. The demon's arm was rent from wrist to elbow and the wound poured thick, viscous black blood and steam roiled up like a volcano.

  Dragging air into his protesting lungs, Grant grinned. His every nerve was amped, his eyes alive with power. He saw everything. He had wounded it! Deep down, he hadn't really believed it was possible.

  Don't let it get to Cassie, the voice in his head hissed. If it gets her soul, its power will be unstoppable for a moon's turn!

  People struggled to fight their way out of the cavern, but the throng was bottlenecked at the narrow passageway. Gunfire reverberated through the chamber, and Elijah still hid by Cassie, sheltering by the stone altar where she lay bound.

  Grant ducked under the sweeping arm of Kaletherex once more and rolled nearer to her. “Cut her free!” he yelled. “Get her out of here, it's the only chance we have!”

  He moved again, drawing Kaletherex aside, and dashed forward once more. Red hot talons raked across his back and he ducked and slashed out with the knife. He yelped in pain, but felt the blade slice through the demon's flesh once more. Kaletherex shrieked, its gashed thigh bleeding and steaming.

  Grant turned to face the demon and Kaletherex halted, staring hard at the knife that had so painfully wounded it twice. The creature tensed and began to circle, not quite fearfully, but carefully.

  “Not so fucking harmless, am I?” He wished he felt as brave as he sounded, but he was beginning to worry. Kaletherex was now wary of him, but clearly the wounds Grant had inflicted were far from grave. He'd imagined that a single drop of Ma Withers' potion would, he didn't know, melt the beast like the witch in The Wizard of Oz. His own wounds pained him, draining the energy from him. Could he at least keep Kaletherex at bay long enough for Cassie to get free?

  And then he realized what Kaletherex was doing. The beast was circling toward the altar. It wanted Cassie. Grant moved to intercept the beast, and it roared as it stalked closer.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Elijah sawing at Cassie's bonds with a pocket knife. And behind Elijah, Cliff Stallard appeared, rifle raised.

  As Grant was about to call out, Amos emerged from shadow and put his rifle to the back of Cliff's head and fired. Cliff's face vanished in a scarlet explosion. A wave of satisfaction washed through Grant, but it was short lived. More shots rang out and Amos's chest burst in twin sprays of blood.

  “Amos!” he cried out, his voice echoed by Elijah, who saw his father fall. Cassie rolled off the altar, her bonds cut, as Kaletherex rushed Grant again.

  This time, Grant was too slow. The demon's claws raked across his arm, tearing the knife free, and the force of its charge sent him hurtling backward. He flew through the air and hit the ground hard, the air leaving his lungs in a rush. He pushed himself up on his elbows and watched helplessly as Kaletherex charged in for the kill.

  Suddenly, the demon froze, flailing its arms around its face as if swatting flies. Grant was suddenly aware of the continued gunfire, and realized the demon was caught in the crossfire between Elijah and whoever had shot Amos. Unlike the wounds from Grant's knife, the bullets did little more than annoy the demon. It turned and charged what it believed were new attackers.

  A familiar voice screamed, “No! I'm on your side!” Moments later, Jesse Stallard's broken body flew from the darkness and landed with a wet smack next to Grant.

  Grant gazed dumbly at the shredded corpse, unable to summon the strength to fight. He realized the power of Ma Withers’ protections at the sight of how utterly Jesse had been destroyed by one of the demon’s blows. But even so, the moments of his life were numbered by the seconds it would take for Kaletherex to find and kill the other shooter. Then it would come for Grant.

  Someone poked him. Grant looked around, but no one was there. The invisible hand prodded again. He remembered Josiah's finger tucked in his pocket.

  You gotta finish this, boy. This ain't no time for dancing. The voice said. Kaletherex has its vessel on this earth, and I have mine. Don't forget, I am with you!

  A strange calm rose up through Grant, wrapping him in warm detachment. He reached into his pocket and pulled Josiah Brunswick's finger free, gripping it for strength, and hauled himself to his feet. He didn't turn and run, but searched around for his knife. He found it nearby. His fingers closed around the hilt, and he turned to see Kaletherex impale Sheriff Barton on a stalagmite.

  “Grant! Come on!” Cassie, leaning heavily on Elijah, was hobbling toward the passage leading out. “We've got to get out of here.”

  “You go.” Wrapped in the void, he scarcely recognized his own voice. “I'll be there soon.” The lie left his lips smoothly, and he felt not a pang of regret as he positioned himself in the path of the demon. He would die here, but Cassie was going to get away. His sacrifice, and Amos's, would not be for nothing.

  Kaletherex seemed to move in slow motion as it charged. As the beast loomed over him, massive arms wide, Grant let himself be gathered up in its crushing embrace. The heat of the demon's body burned where it touched his skin. Distantly he heard Cassie scream. His flesh blistered, he smelled his hair burning, and the pain, both agonizing and enlivening, pulsed through him. It was all a faraway thing, and he pushed it aside as he stabbed the demon in the face and neck with the tainted blade, keeping its fanged jaws at bay. His blade bit through infernal flesh and bone again and again as the demon howled.

  Grant's strength waned with every blow, but he could feel the demon flagging as well. He yelled as he poured the last of his strength into his attack. He buried the blade halfway to the hilt in Kaletherex's skull. The demon's hellish roar struck him like a blow and he lost his grip on the knife as it thrashed about. Grant bounced against the cavern wall, scarcely keeping his feet.

  But it wasn't a killing blow. Kaletherex, the bowie knife jutting from its forehead like a twisted unicorn, was still very much alive, and very angry with its tormentor. As the demon stalked forward, the voice came again.

  That's not the way, boy. I told you, I am with you.

  “What do you mean?” he cried, wondering if Brunswick could hear him. “Tell me what to do! The only thing about you that's with me is this damn finger!” The finger writhed in his grip, as if struggling to reach the demon. “The hell with you, Brunswick,” he muttered.

  Kaletherex was almost upon him, jaws open wide, ready to devour him. “And the hell with you!” He looked down into the gaping, tooth-filled maw of the demon and laughed maniacally. “Remember Josiah Brunswick? Here's what's left of him, and I hope you choke on it!” He laughed again and thrust the writhing finger deep into Kaletherex's throat.

  That's the way, boy! The voice was exuberant, yet already distant, fading.

  Kaletherex roared around Grant's hand in its throat and slammed its mouth shut. Through the pain and stench of burning, Grant vaguely registered his arm as it was severed below the elbow and disappeared into the huge, black beast.

  The demon screamed and staggered back. Grant stared wide-eyed at the stump of his left arm, not bleeding, already cauterized by the hell-creature's furnace bite. Kaletherex roared, clutching and clawing at its throat and stomach. Some people still ran and screamed, though there seemed to be hardly anyone left in the cavern but the dead and the gibbering mad.

  Pain lanced through every atom
of his body, but Grant ignored it. He stumbled to his feet as Kaletherex fell to its knees. The demon swung blows left and right like a drunk swinging desperate punches as the strength left it and its hold on the mortal realm wavered. Its presence shifted and morphed, became gossamer and unreal. Grant grabbed the Bowie knife, yanked it free of the beast’s skull, and stabbed and slashed, again and again, until it felt as though he was swiping through nothing but air. With a soul-rending roar of agony and despair, Kaletherex folded in on itself and fell away from the world.

  Blackness swimming in from every part of his vision, Grant managed a weak, strangled laugh and let the darkness take him as he fell face-first to the floor.

  Chapter 23

  Grant vaguely registered sensations of movement, a change in temperature. He heard sounds of the forest and heard distant shouts. Pressure on his body as he was shaken roughly and realized he was being carried over someone's shoulder as they ran. He heard a voice calling his name and some distant part of him celebrated as it was almost certainly Cassie's words he heard. Blackness took him again.

  He woke lying on something soft. He registered movement and something brushed the hair from his brow. He opened his eyes and Cassie's face split in a grin of sheer joy.

  “You're alive!” she said. She was wrapped in a big, dirty coat.

  “Am I?” He saw movement behind her and realized he was looking out the back window of a car. He lay across the back seat, his head in her lap. He turned his head and saw the dark shape of the driver and recognized Elijah's short cropped hair. Tears streaked the young man's cheek as he drove. The passenger seat was empty.

  Cassie eyes were sad again. “Your arm...” she said quietly.

  Grant tried to grin at her. “Got another,” he slurred.

  He closed his eyes and let the oblivion of darkness take him again.

  The next time he woke, he found himself lying in a hospital bed. Cassie and Elijah sat beside him. Elijah stared into nowhere and Cassie smiled as he found her eyes.

  “You're going to be okay,” she told him. “But you're badly hurt, so you have to stay still.”

  He nodded, winced at the movement and stopped. “Yeah. Don't think I'm going anywhere any time soon.”

  “I can't believe you came for me,” Cassie said, looking away, unable to hold his gaze. “You came for me and you fought that thing.” She looked back, tears in her eyes. “You beat that thing!”

  “I had a lot of help.” Grant looked at Elijah. “I'm so sorry about Amos.”

  Elijah nodded. “I did that to him.”

  Grant had no idea what to say to that. It was true. But it was also because of Elijah that Amos had come to help and the old man's bravery and fighting spirit made all the difference. “Your dad was amazing. There's no way I could have done what I did without him. He saved all of us, even you.”

  Elijah nodded again, said nothing. Fresh tears rolled slowly down his cheeks.

  “Where are we?” Grant asked Cassie.

  “Kingsville. We just drove away from Wallen's Gap, away from all of that and straight here to the hospital. I don't ever plan to go back, either.”

  Grant’s eyes fell on a newspaper lying on Elijah’s lap. The headline read Cavern Collapse! He recognized a picture of Natural Bridge. “What’s that?”

  “The cover story. You been out cold for nearly two days.” Elijah tossed the paper onto the bed.

  A cave-in at Natural Bridge Caverns claimed the lives of dozens of Wallen’s Gap residents in the worst tragedy to hit the community in decades. Members of the Wallen’s Gap Community Church were enjoying a picnic in one of the larger chambers when the roof suddenly gave way. A representative of the Virginia Department of Conservation and Recreation said that the chamber in question was in a remote area of the park and not a place frequented by tourists. Local authorities…

  He stopped reading. They had certainly moved fast. The Kaletherex cult was going to get away with it. To hell with them. If the survivors were willing to be a part of the cover-up, they deserved what they got. He looked at Cassie and grinned.

  “What do you say, when I get out of here, we head west until we hit the Pacific? I've had my fill of mountains. Let's see what it's like by the sea.”

  Cassie smiled, but her eyes reflected the deep injury she had endured, to body and soul. It would be a long time before either of them were even vaguely better. But she seemed to genuinely mean it when she said, “I'd really like that.”

  “What about you, Elijah?” Grant asked. “You want to come and see the ocean?”

  Elijah shook his head. “I got a sister moved to New York to go to college. Reckon I might go and see her, tell her what happened. Then maybe stay there a while if she'll have me.”

  Grant nodded. He keenly felt the burned patches of skin, the torn muscles and cracked bones throughout his body. He lifted his left arm, what remained of it, and stared at the dressing that rounded off just below his elbow. So much for his dreams of being a professional musician. Then again, the drummer from Def Leppard only had one arm. A shame Grant was a guitarist. Perhaps Suzanne had left him for all the wrong reasons, but it led him to Cassie. He thought she would support him whatever his dreams. And he would support her.

  He remembered Ma Withers' words. That finger you got gonna cost you, don't forget that. He hadn't known what she meant, but Grant knew well enough now.

  “Your arm,” Cassie said, eyes wet as she looked at his injury.

  Grant smiled. “I'm just glad to be alive.” And he meant it. “I honestly thought I was going to die back there in that cave. I was kind of at peace with that. So seeing as I've managed to get away with nothing but some injuries that'll heal and only ended up losing my hand, I guess I can live with that.”

  “That's quite an amazing attitude to have.”

  “Oh, it's going to take some getting used to, I don't doubt that. And I’ll be angry about it for a fair while. Just as well I'm right-handed. But any problems I run into, I guess I'm going to need your help.”

  Cassie leaned forward and kissed him softly. Her lips were warm against his. “I can do that,” she said.

  Chapter 24

  In Wallen's Gap the people moved through the streets like ghosts. A sense of something terrible hung in the air, something lost and broken. For any survivors of the cave that night, little was ever said about what had happened. It took several days to quietly bury the bodies of all the dead. The new sheriff, a swiftly promoted local deputy, spent many late nights organizing the paperwork to hide the events up in the hills beyond town.

  In a house up beside the church, Mary Ann Stallard sat stony-eyed across the table from a young girl with red hair and freckles across her nose. “I lost a husband and three sons that night,” Mary Ann was saying, “so I ain't about to let you outta my sight.”

  “You never have,” the young girl said, her face sullen.

  “Don't give me none of your sass. Your daddy's the one who give you to us for safe-keeping when you was just a babe. We've fed and clothed you and cared for you like you was our own.”

  “I don't remember any of your own being forced to live in the basement their whole lives.”

  “That's enough.” Mary Ann's voice cracked like a whip. “You know how precious you are.” Her face and voice grew dark. “And if the good reverend had controlled his natural urges, we wouldn't have had to use your sister, and maybe my men would still be alive.”

  “And my daddy,” the girl added, though there was no feeling in her words.

  “You just look after yourself, and that one there.” Mary Ann nodded at the girl's stomach. “Now you make us a fresh pot, ya hear.”

  The young redhead nodded and rose from the table, one hand resting on her rotund belly.

  “Oh, and one other thing,” Mary Ann said.

  “Yes, ma'am?”

  “If that ain't a girl child the good reverend put in there, Sally Brunswick, we're gonna find you a baby daddy to keep on working at you until it is. I don
't know if our lord is gone for good or not, but there will be another conjunction and I aim to live to see it.”

  END

  About the Authors

  Alan Baxter is a Ditmar Award-nominated British- Australian author living on the south coast of NSW, Australia. He writes dark fantasy, sci-fi and horror, rides a motorcycle and loves his dog. He also teaches Kung Fu. He is the author of the contemporary dark fantasy thriller novels, RealmShift and MageSign, and over 40 short stories which have appeared in a variety of journals and anthologies in Australia, the US, the UK and France, including the Year’s Best Australian Fantasy & Horror. Alan is also a freelance writer, penning reviews, feature articles and opinion. He’s a contributing editor and co-founder at Thirteen O’Clock, Australian Dark Fiction News & Reviews, and co-hosts ThrillerCast, a thriller and genre fiction podcast. Read extracts from his fiction at his website www.alanbaxteronline.com or find him on Twitter @AlanBaxter, and feel free to tell him what you think. About anything.

  David Wood is the author of the Dane Maddock Adventures series and several stand-alone works, as well as The Absent Gods fantasy series under his David Debord pen name. He loves history, archaeology, mythology, and cryptozoology, and tries to work all of these varied influences into the Dane Maddock books, in particular. He is a proud member of International Thriller Writers and co-hosts the ThrillerCast podcast. He loves to discuss books and publishing, so feel free to connect with him at www.davidwoodweb.com or on Twitter or Facebook.