"What's up, Father?" Alder asked from his place in the back of the van. He was recovering from his wounds, but was still taking it easy.
"The engine is overheating, and there's a weird hum. I don't think we're going much further in this van, and I thought a town would be a much better place to conk out than on the highway."
Another sign proclaimed "Flat Rock, Population 436." Bryce smiled. "How quaint! A real small town in middle America."
His joviality faded as they drove closer, however. There was something wrong up ahead. It couldn't be the dinosaurs, though. Those were still behind them. But the feeling would not go away.
"Look," exclaimed Mara, who was sitting in the passenger seat.
Bryce followed her pointing finger to the edge of the small town. There were mannequins hanging from buildings, from lamp posts, from telephone poles. However, as the van crawled closer, the priest saw that they weren't mannequins.
"My God, what's happened here?"
The bodies were all hanging upsidedown. Each had a gaping hole in its chest, its heart cut away.
"It's like what we saw in Newark," Coyote said. "But the lizards didn't tie ropes around the others."
"The lizards haven't gotten this far yet, Coyote," Alder stated, "and even if they did, I don't think they would use rope."
"Rope is dead thing. Edeinos do not use dead things. Edeinos did not do this," Tal Tu explained.
Bryce stopped the van, and Rat slid open the side door.
"There are more than fifty of them," Rat counted as he and the others exited the van. Tal Tu, by habit, remained inside.
Tolwyn had a grim look upon her face. "The villains who did this deed must pay."
Suddenly a great banging sounded, and figures appeared in the doorways of the buildings. These figures were alive, and they advanced on the group, banging sticks upon the ground and making an awful racket.
Mara and Rick pulled out their guns, while Bryce, Tolwyn, Coyote and Rat gathered around them. The crowd was a ragged looking bunch of men, women and children. They appeared to be refugees that had claimed the town as their own. They stopped advancing about a dozen yards from the group, forming a semi-circle around them.
"It's just like Kane said," one of the older men called out. "More sacrifices have come to us."
"More sacrifices!" another yelled, and the chant was picked up by the whole crowd.
"Rick, we can't shoot all of these people," Mara said.
"At least not before they were on top of us," Alder agreed. "But we can't let them take us without a fight."
The old man raised his stick into the air, and the
chant died down. He looked at the group, then smiled. "We have a way to keep the lizards at bay. They cannot enter our town as long as we keep the warnings posted!"
"Post more warnings! Post more warnings!" the crowd echoed.
"Kane taught us that. He showed us how to post warnings that the lizards would understand."
Bryce felt sick. Who could have convinced these poor, scared people that murder was the way to save themselves?
"He told us to watch for a van carrying a priest," the old man continued. "That would be the next set of warnings we would have to post."
"I don't like the way this is developing, Father," Alder said, raising his revolver slightly.
The crowd started forward then, slowly moving toward the group. Coyote turned to the van and shouted, "Tal Tu, come out!"
"What are you ...?" Bryce began, but he stopped when a cry of alarm raced through the crowd.
"Kane lied!" one woman cried.
"The warnings didn't work," a man moaned.
"The lizards have come!" another shouted, and the crowd scattered back into the buildings.
Bryce turned to see Tal Tu leaning back upon his tail beside the van. He seemed to have a very satisfied look on his lizard face.
"Come on," Alder warned, "let's get back in the van before they realize we have just one lizard."
100
Andrew Decker navigated the minibus around the flock of winged lizards in the road ahead. Kurst was in the seat next to him, curiously watching every move he made.
"What's the matter, Kurst?" Decker joked, "never seen anyone drive a standard before?"
"No," Kurst replied.
They came across the minibus while they were walking along I-80, and Decker decided to give it a try. He had never actually attempted to operate the jeeps once they gave out, but he had made the M-16 work when none of the other marines had been able. So he opened the door, found the key in the ignition, and turned it. On the second try the engine coughed. On the third try it turned over, and they were on their way.
They drove in silence for awhile. Kurst did not seem to be much of a conversationalist, although they did talk the night before. He was a strange fellow, but not overly so. In fact, with all that was going on around them, Kurst was behaving rather well.
Without knowing why, Decker turned off the highway and took a smaller road south. He was cutting down much earlier than he had planned to, but he had a hunch that this was the road to take. Decker, ever since his baseball days, had always followed his hunches.
"Follow your feelings, Decker," Kurst said, somehow picking up on the congressman's thoughts.
The road twisted and curved through the countryside, refusing to follow a straight path. Decker maintained his speed though. He felt that time was important all of a sudden, that it was imperative he reach the end of this road. When he saw the sign for Flat Rock, it was like a bolt of energy shot through him.
"We have to go to Flat Rock," he explained.
"So it would seem," replied Kurst.
They saw the mutilated bodies hanging from the poles and buildings first, then they saw the crowd. Dozens of refugees were converging on a battered and torn van. But an occasional gun shot or flash of light drove them back into the few buildings that made up the town.
Decker gunned the minibus, screeching to a halt alongside the van. He looked into the open window and saw the woman with the emerald eyes looking back at him. "I've come a long way to find you, miss," he was finally able to say.
"And I," Kurst echoed.
"Then make room in your magic chariot, because we do not want to share the same fate as those hanging above us," the emerald-eyed woman said, indicating the mutilated bodies with a nod of her head.
Then her and her companions — a priest, a wounded man, two boys, a young woman with wild silver hair, and a lizard man with a cat — piled into the minibus. Without asking any questions, Decker pressed down on the gas pedal and drove off, leaving the angry crowd of Flat Rock behind them.
101
Once he had put twenty miles of road between themselves and Flat Rock, Decker pulled off the road and stopped the minibus. He gave the disheveled group the once over, then introduced himself and Kurst.
"I am Tolwyn of House Tancred," the emerald-eyed woman said. "And these are my companions, Christopher Bryce, Rick Alder, Dr. Hachi Mara-Two, Tal Tu, Coyote and Rat."
Decker examined each in turn, trying to get a handle on the people and why they were together. He gave up after the lizard was given a name. He paused to think for a second, then decided to be honest with them.
"I've seen you in dream, Miss Tolwyn," he started, hoping he didn't sound as crazy to her and it did to his own ears. "I knew I had to find you, to help you."
"What?" exclaimed the priest. Decker ignored him for the moment.
"But I have to tell you the truth, you're not the main part of this recurring dream." Decker saw that Tolwyn's eyes were wide, and the others were looking at them both, weird expressions on their faces. "I'm looking for a stone. It is blue — turquoise actually — and it ..."
". is full of swirls of crimson," Tolwyn finished. The group was quiet for a time, trying to fathom the implications of this meeting. Then Tolwyn said, "I have been waiting for you as well, Decker. The knots ... you are one of the black man's knots ..."
"Th
at isn't part of my dream, I'm afraid," Decker confessed.
"Do you know where the stone is, Decker?" Tolwyn asked hopefully.
Decker shook his head. "Somewhere out west is all I know."
"Yes, in a great canyon."
"That's more than I knew."
"If we're done comparing dreams, I suggest we get moving," the priest said. "I for one would like to get out of this area before nightfall."
The others agreed. Decker started the minibus and drove back onto the highway heading west.
102
The Gaunt Man leaned against a great well that stood behind his manor. It was thirty feet across, a huge hole that fell into darkness. The hole was rimmed by huge stone blocks, carved with scenes of battles between men and monsters. Standing some distance away was Scythak, the huge hunter. He held a prisoner, one of the natives from the island. Beside them was Thratchen.
"Bring the stormer forward," the Gaunt Man ordered, never taking his eyes from the dark hole.
Scythak shoved the native toward the Gaunt Man, using but a fraction of his great strength. The High Lord of horror gently positioned the man before the well.
"I must prepare for the worst," the Gaunt Man explained, pulling a large dagger from the folds of his black outfit. The native's eyes grew wide, but he did not run. The Gaunt Man admired that.
He grabbed the prisoner by the arm and lifted him over the well. With a casual swipe of the blade, blood flowed from the man and dripped into the well. Somewhere deep below the ground, a great roar sounded. The Gaunt Man dropped the prisoner into the well and called out, "Come forth, Carredon! Come forth, my destroyer!"
Dark water splashed over the sides of the well, and a nightmare creature rose out of its depths. It was a dragon-like monster with wings as black as night and scales of armor. Blood covered its terrible, tooth-filled maw—the remains of the prisoner. It stepped out of the well, dwarfing even Scythak with its size and power.
"You have summoned me, my master?" the Carre-don roared, its voice projecting waves of fear that even Thratchen felt.
"I have a mission for you, Carredon," the Gaunt Man said. "Listen well to what I say."
As the Gaunt Man spoke, Scythak stepped forward and handed a pair of rune staves to the dragon. Carre-don took them carefully, repeated its orders, then spread its black wings.
"As you command, my master, so shall it be." And then the Carredon flew.
103
Tom O'Malley waited beside his airplane on a small airstrip north and west of London. He had delivered his cargo as promised, and was now awaiting the goods he was to transport back to Australia. He looked again at the sky to the south, in the general direction of London, and was disturbed by the dark clouds. The man he delivered the cargo to had been nervous, frightened even, rambling on about the terrors that were assaulting London. O'Malley had heard as much on his radio. He had even been warned off by air traffic controllers on the continent when he wasn't able to raise the London tower.
He checked his watch again. He could only give his client a few more minutes, then, cargo or not, Mrs. O'Malley's little boy was taking to the sky and flying home. There was too much weirdness happening in the world right about now, he decided. America, England, France, and even the Indonesian islands closer to home were under attack or worse depending on the reports you heard. It was crazy — but it was also very scary.
Just as Tom O'Malley was about to call it a trip, he noticed an automobile racing onto the airstrip. It zigged and zagged as though out of control, and it was moving much too fast when it wasn't jerking to a stop, but it seemed to have a definite destination in mind. It seemed to be heading right for Tom's plane!
O'Malley, nervous now that his beloved airplane was being threatened, leaped in front of the swerving vehicle and yelled for it to stop.
It kept on coming.
Tom swallowed hard, put his hands out more for protection than as a signal to the car, and closed his eyes. He heard the car's engine race, heard the tires squeal, heard the brakes catch. He opened his left eye a crack, and saw that the car had finally stopped — right in front of him.
It was a powder blue four-door that didn't look too old. But it had more dents and scratches than Tom had ever seen on one vehicle before. He tried to see who was driving, and Tom did a double take. The car was empty!
"What in the world is going on here?" he shouted out loud as he ran around to the driver's door. Before he could grab the handle, however, the door flew open and a small, stocky woman leaped out. She was about three and a half feet tall, had braided black hair, and wore a combination of leather and armor that made her look very formidable. So did the array of weapons she carried on her person — an ax, a mace, a number of daggers, and a large pistol.
"Who? What?" O'Malley stammered.
Then more of the small people filed out of the car. Tom counted as they emerged — one, two, three, four, five, six. Plus the woman. There were seven of them!
And they were driving a car! Tom felt as though a cruel joke were being played on him.
The woman fell to one knee before him, and the others did likewise. She held her ax before her, offering it to Tom.
"We ask for asylum in your cosm," the woman said. She had a thick accent that was almost German, but had a hint of somewhere even farther away than that. "We have decided we have had enough of conquering, and ask that you take us to your High Lord."
She lowered her head again, and the other dwarves followed her lead. All that is except one, who stared at Tom's plane with something akin to awe. The woman rapped him atop his metal helmet, and he obediently dropped his gaze to the floor.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Tom said calmly. "What's the punchline?"
One of the older-looking dwarves leaped up. "I knew it! The folk of this cosm make trolls look smart! How many times are we going to make the same speech, Pluppa? How many times?"
The woman named Pluppa turned to Tom. "Please, good sir. The forces of Aysle could be right behind us. They will only kill you. What Lady Ardinay does to traitors is not something I wish to burden you with. But we cannot control the magic chariot very well, and we really do need to get away from this place."
Tom thought for a moment, looking over each of the dwarves in turn. They certainly didn't look like they were joking. And he did need cargo.
"Can you pay your way?" he asked.
"Oh sir, we are able warriors, and we are engineers and craftsmen of exceptional ability," Pluppa boasted. "And we have gold." She tossed him a small sack. He hefted it, feeling the weight. Then he opened it and poured seven large nuggets into his palm.
"Come on, then," he said, still not positive about the whole deal, "you've just bought yourself passage to Australia."
104
Decker was driving the minibus west, with no destination in mind. He trusted that the woman named Tolwyn would know where to go when the time came. But he would need to get gas soon, and he needed to check in with President Wells.
"We're going to stop in Indianapolis," he explained. "I have to make a call and we could use some new supplies. Just keep the lizard out of sight."
The gas station had a small snack shop attached to it, and while Decker went to use a phone the others headed into the shop. He deposited a handful of coins and dialed the private number Wells had given him. He listened to the phone ring two times, then the ring was replaced by a buzzing that didn't sound good to him. He hung up and tried again. This time there was no ring, just the buzzing. He would have to try later.
He entered the snack shop and saw that it was decorated with giant prints of American landscapes. There was Old Faithful. Over there was Mount Rushmore. Tolwyn was standing before one of the prints. She wasn't moving, just staring at it. Decker walked over to her.
"Tolwyn? Are you all right?"
"That is the place," she said. "That is where we must go."
She pointed at the picture. It showed the rugged, beautiful scenery of the Grand C
anyon.
105
Baruk Kaah sat among the black roots of Rec Pakken, basking in its evil aura. Eddie Paragon was with him, explaining everything he could about Earth. Baruk Kaah did not understand much of what the singer said, but Rec Pakken did. And, the High Lord decided, that was good enough.
An edeinos entered the dark forest, making the signs of apology as he approached.
"Why do you disturb us, gotak?" the High Lord demanded.
"The expansion has been halted, Saar."
"What?" Baruk Kaah raged, rising to his feet.
"In the middle of our realm is a place of the dead. We cannot defeat the warriors there."
"Leave. I shall deal with this soon."
The gotak scrambled out of the forest.
Baruk Kaah opened his senses to Rec Pakken, asking for guidance. The darkness device showed him a Core Earth hardpoint, an area within their stelae bounds that refused to give up its reality. The darkness device suggested that he ignore it and continue to expand around it.
"No!" the High Lord raged. "I will destroy this hardpoint by personally imposing my reality upon it! Come with me, Paragon. You shall see the power of a High Lord. You shall sing of the power of Baruk Kaah!"
The tribes were poised within their own reality, just beyond the pocket of Core Earth that had formed around Silicon Valley. Baruk Kaah could feel the dead land. It was like a festering wound within his healthy, living realm. He would heal the wound.
The High Lord stepped forward, cloaking himself in a swirling storm of his own reality. The storm moved with him into the hardpoint.
"Be with me, Lanala," Baruk Kaah prayed. "Stand beside me, Rec Pakken."
The reality of Takta Ker entered the reality of Earth, and a fierce storm formed around Baruk Kaah. Staggered by the surge of Earth energy, the High Lord fell back a step. Then he spread his arms wide and expanded his own storm. He pushed it wider, trying to overwhelm the Earth storm. Lightning swirled around him in a wide arc as the two realities battled for dominance. Thunder filled the area for miles around with noise. Then the storm collapsed back upon Baruk Kaah.
One tribe rushed forward, surrounding the High Lord. Gun fire sounded, and many of the edeinos fell. But enough made it back into the realm, carrying the body of Baruk Kaah.
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