The Dark at the End rj-15

by F. Paul Wilson

  Weezy said, “And that’s strange, because it’s the oldest Lodge in the Americas-or at least the site is.”

  Jack didn’t care if they turned it into a whorehouse. Only the basement interested him.

  He opened the cellar door and flipped the light switch. The space below lit up. Weezy stayed close behind him on the way down.

  “Who’s this Kris and is he looking for what I think he’s looking for?”

  “Kristof Szeto was one of the Order’s enforcers.”

  “That guy you slammed with the truck door?” Eddie said.

  “The same. Also the guy who put out the hits on Weezy last year. We had a run-in on Thursday and he told me he was working on a project in my hometown.”

  “‘Run-in’?” Weezy said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Would that ‘run-in’ be the reason he’s not returning calls?”

  “It would.”

  No reason to get into Drexler’s involvement and administration of the coupe de grace.

  “Will he ever again return calls?”

  “Not without a seance.”

  “Oh, brother,” Eddie muttered.

  Weezy sighed. “Before he lost the ability to return calls, did he perhaps say what this ‘project’ involved?”

  “No, but he told me who had put him up to it: the One.”

  Weezy stumbled against his back. “ What?”

  “Exactly.”

  “The One? But what-?”

  “That’s all I know.”

  The basement had changed too. Last they’d seen it, the space had been piled high with antique furniture. Now it lay empty except for scattered chunks of broken concrete and three six-foot piles of freshly dug earth.

  Weezy clutched Jack’s arm as they approached the dirt.

  “Look at this. It can only mean… Jack, he’s got to be looking for the altered sigil of the Seven.”

  “That’s my guess too.”

  “But why?”

  “Well, I’d be surprised if Rasalom didn’t know we have the Compendium.”

  She frowned. “How could he?”

  “Between what I heard from Thompson and Szeto and Drexler on Thursday night, they’ve been making connections between you and Eddie and me and my Tyleski identity. I’m sure Thompson mentioned somewhere along the way that Tyleski stole the Compendium from him and he wants it back. And I’m sure Drexler must have mentioned it to the R-man.”

  Weezy said, “And if he knows we have the Compendium, and knows the Compendium contains the Other Naming Ceremony…”

  “… then the last thing he wants any of us knowing is his Other Name,” Jack added, nodding. A thought struck. “Could that be why he put Dawn across the hall from you?”

  “To spy on me?”

  “Or to steal the book.”

  Weezy looked offended. “She wouldn’t! Tell me true, Jack. Do you really think she’d do something like that?”

  “I’m reaching the point where, except for a very select few, I’m wondering if anyone is incapable of anything.” He caught her glare, so he added, “Oh, all right. I don’t think she’d do that to you.”

  “Thank you. I like to think I’m a half decent judge of people.”

  “Well, then, does your judgment tell you why she was moved in there?”

  “Eddie gave us a possible explanation.”

  Yeah, one that had made Jack very uncomfortable.

  “I might have another,” Eddie said. “Maybe the One had some way of influencing Dawn or tapping into what she knew.”

  Jack stopped and stared at him. Weezy did the same.

  Eddie looked embarrassed. “Hey, just tossing it off. This guy is supposed to be more than human and I-”

  “No-no,” Jack said. “It’s not as crazy as it sounds. She lived in his house for most of her pregnancy. Maybe…”

  Weezy said, “Well, if he knew I was studying and cross-referencing the Compendium, and he learned from Drexler that you and I had been in the buried town-”

  “Wait!” Eddie said, waving his hand. “What buried town?”

  “Long story.”

  “According to you they’re all long stories.”

  “I’ll tell you later.”

  “Why didn’t anyone tell me before?”

  Jack and Weezy replied in unison: “Because you were a blabbermouth.”

  And then they both cracked up.

  Eddie wasn’t laughing. “Real funny. A riot.”

  Jack turned and stepped to the edge of the deep hole in the basement floor. When the underground corridor below had flooded back in the eighties, a lot of silt must have washed in from the lake, collapsing side walls, burying everything.

  “Ras must have decided the safest course was to dig up the special sigil and either destroy it or find a safer place for it. He assigned Szeto the job, Szeto hired Tommy and his crew, but Szeto became… incapacitated and couldn’t follow through on paying the workers. So there’s good news and bad news.”

  Weezy and Eddie joined him at the edge.

  “What’s the good news?” Weezy said.

  “They didn’t find it.”

  Eddie said, “I think I can guess the bad news.”

  “Right. We get some shovels and replace Tommy and company.”

  7

  Rasalom barely recognized the face in the mirror. His right cheek and ear had been severely burned. They were healing but would remain scarred. The disfigurement did not matter in and of itself. He was not vain. And once the Change began and he was transformed, the scars and loss of a hand would not matter. He would be renewed.

  But until then, these scars would attract attention. He did not like the idea of people staring.

  Well, it would not be for long.

  Then again, it might be a very long time if he did not locate that baby. He had to return to the mainland-now.

  He left the bathroom and made his way through the front room, feeling stronger, and somewhat steadier on his feet, but still nowhere near who he had been forty-eight hours ago. He needed to lean on the furniture.

  “Where are you going?” the cow said as he passed her.

  She remained on the floor beside her dead dog, caressing the fur of its carcass. How long would she stay there? Until it rotted?

  He didn’t answer her. Instead he opened the front door and stepped outside. The air was icy but still, and the sky a speckled black dome. With so little light pollution here, he could make out the crowded stars and dust lanes of the Milky Way arching above him.

  If his plans held, all this would change-day would become night, and the stars would mutate into new formations.

  The South Fork of Long Island glowed faintly straight ahead and to his right. He raised his arms to each side, spreading them like wings. He stood swaying, a human cross, then willed himself to rise.

  Nothing happened.

  He tried harder, but remained earthbound.

  Unease filtered through him. Was it because he was still so weak?

  He lowered his arms and stared at the stump of his left wrist. Or had the loss of his hand affected his mastery over gravity? Through the years he’d used that mastery judiciously and with caution-it wouldn’t do to be seen floating in the air-and had found it of limited use. An occasional convenience. But now, when he needed it, it had deserted him.

  “What are you doing out there?” the cow called from behind him. “Come in here right now before you catch your death of cold.”

  No, he would not catch his death from a cold or any other infection. Viruses and bacteria had no chance against his immune system. But a too-low body temperature could stop his heart like anyone else’s.

  Perhaps it was just as well he couldn’t lift in his weakened condition. The ability might fail him while airborne. He needed more strength.

  He could go back inside and begin slow work on the cow with a knife. No one would hear her screams as he fed on her agony and fear. But he saw no guarantee that would be enough. He would most likely have
to take the boat back to the mainland anyway. That meant witnesses. And if evidence were found in the house, he would be subjected to the inconvenience of a police investigation.

  All reasons why he rarely harmed anyone himself. So much better to induce someone else to commit an atrocity.

  Patient… he must be patient.

  He returned to the house.

  8

  “How much farther, do you think?” Eddie said, panting.

  Jack and Eddie were both in the hole, digging their way east along the dirt-filled subterranean corridor. They’d fill buckets with the excavated dirt, which Weezy would pull up on ropes and dump into the basement.

  Jack had driven down to Spurlin’s Hardware and bought shovels, an aluminum ladder, lanterns, and the rest of the equipment. Then he’d picked up sandwiches and drinks at the Krauszer’s down on 206.

  “We should be getting close,” Jack said. He looked back and up toward the hole in their ceiling and basement’s floor. “What do you think, Weez?”

  Her face appeared in the opening. “If memory serves-”

  “And it usually does,” Jack said.

  “-you should have just a few more feet to go. If…” She hesitated.

  “If what?”

  “If the flood didn’t wash it deeper into the passage.”

  Jack remembered the force of the water as it had surged against him back when they were teens. Quaker Lake lay to the west, just beyond the other end of the passage. That September, swollen by record September rains, it had broken into the passage, flooding it and nearly drowning Jack.

  “If it moved even ten feet, we’re sunk. We’re going to have to find Tommy and company and pay them ourselves. No way the three of us can dig that far.”

  “We don’t have the authority to do that,” Eddie said. “This Szeto guy must have cleared it with the Council first. No way they’re going to clear it for us.”

  “Who says they have to know? We can-”

  “Hey, guys!” Weezy said in a hushed voice. “Quiet for just a minute.”

  Jack glanced at Eddie and they shut up. Finally Jack said, “What’s up, Weez?”

  Her voice filtered from above. “I swear I heard someone upstairs.”

  Jack didn’t like that. He climbed the ladder and retrieved his Glock from his jacket pocket.

  “Maybe Tommy came back,” he said as he led the way upstairs.

  Both the front and rear doors were locked, which meant nothing if someone had a key. But it had begun to rain about an hour ago and the floors inside the doors showed no trace of moisture.

  “You’re sure?” Jack said.

  Weezy shrugged. “I’m not saying I heard some one, but I know I heard some thing. Maybe just the building settling.”

  “I think it would have pretty much settled by now,” Eddie said.

  “It’s got part of a buried town beneath it, so who says it will ever be fully settled?”

  Eddie nodded. “Point to you.”

  “Just to be sure, I’m going to take a room-to-room look-see. Anyone want to come along?” Jack said.

  They both volunteered.

  The first floor was easy-only the kitchen, the conference room, the front room, and a few closets. All empty.

  A different story upstairs: lots of small rooms-almost like a dorm-and crammed with the furniture that had once filled the basement. Took longer, but same result: empty.

  “All clear,” Jack said. “Back to digging?”

  Eddie shook his head. “I’ve got to tell you, I thought I was in shape, but I’m bushed.”

  Weezy laughed. “I know I’m not in shape, so imagine how I feel.”

  Well, the hour was late, and Jack had to admit he was feeling a little sore himself. Working out wasn’t the same as working.

  “Okay, let’s knock off and see if we can find a motel and crash for the night.”

  “And risk not being able to get back in?” Weezy said.

  “We’ll get back in.”

  She gestured around them. “Why don’t we stay here? Heat, electricity, running water, lots of rooms, no linens, but we’ve got mattresses.”

  “I don’t know,” Eddie said.

  “Come on. It’ll be fun. Where else can we stay? The Lonely Pine Motel? These mattresses here are ancient but I bet they’re better than the ones at the Lonely Pine.”

  Jack said, “I can’t do anything in the morning without coffee.”

  “I’ll run down to Krauszer’s for you. Come on. I’ve got an alarm on my phone. I’ll set it for an early start in the morning.”

  Well, why not? They were already trespassers. Might as well become squatters too.

  “As long as I get my coffee.”

  TUESDAY

  1

  Weezy’s voice woke him.

  “Jack? Eddie?”

  It echoed from down the hall and she sounded terrified.

  He leaped up from the bare mattress and looked around in the dark. He was fully dressed except for his work boots. He’d rolled his jacket into a makeshift pillow. He felt around for the flashlight and the Glock he’d left on a bedside table.

  They’d left a light on in the hall before calling it a night. What had happened to it?

  “Guys!” she called again, her voice quavering. “Can you come here?”

  “On my way,” Jack said.

  He found the flashlight and turned it on, then grabbed his Glock. Couldn’t imagine why he’d need it but he preferred to have it with him rather than on the table.

  The piles of upended chairs and bureaus and such scattered around the room cast weird shadows as he hurried toward his open door. He flipped the switch on the wall as he went by but the ceiling light didn’t go on. Odd. It had worked before.

  Light flashed in the hall, though, and it turned out to be Eddie with his own flashlight.

  “Weezy?” Eddie said.

  “I’m in here,” she called from two doors down where she’d chosen to spend the night.

  Jack reached the darkened room first. A flick of her wall switch proved that her light didn’t work either, but Jack’s flash beam found her wrapped in her coat and crouched on the bed, holding her unlit flashlight and looking terrified. He entered with Eddie close behind him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Someone was here.”

  “Who? How?” Eddie said. “There’s nobody here but us.”

  Jack couldn’t argue with that. The windows were barred and they’d barricaded both downstairs doors before hitting the mattresses. Even someone with a key couldn’t get in without making a terrible racket. Eddie tried her wall switch again-as dead as Jack’s.

  “Mine’s dead too,” Eddie said. “Seems we’ve lost power.”

  Jack held his pistol against his thigh as he flashed his beam around. Like every other room, lots of furniture stacked and bunched together, but no people.

  “I’m telling you someone was in the room.” Her voice rose in pitch. “He was standing over the bed and looking down at me.”

  “‘He’? ” Jack said. “What’d he look like?”

  “Okay, it could have been a she, but it… I don’t know… it felt like a he. I grabbed my flashlight but it’s dead.”

  She hit the button and the beam shot across the room.

  “It didn’t work before.” She turned it off and back on again. “I swear it didn’t.”

  Jack said, “The place is empty except for us. It wasn’t Eddie or me, so that leaves a nightmare.”

  “I wasn’t dreaming. Believe me, I know when I’m dreaming. What time is it?”

  Eddie pulled out his cell phone and pressed a button. Jack saw his puzzled frown in the glow from its display.

  “No service. It worked fine before.”

  No service meant no time on the display. Jack hadn’t yet become dependent on his phone for the time. He trained his flash beam on his watch, an old Seiko that refused to die.

  “Two thirty-two,” he said, then noticed the second hand wasn’t mo
ving. “Wait. I take that back. My watch has stopped.”

  Okay. This was getting weird.

  Weezy’s door slammed closed.

  Jack jumped just like everyone else. Eddie was closest. He grabbed the knob, twisted, and pulled.

  “It won’t budge.” His voice had developed a quaver.

  Jack stepped over to help. “Maybe the two of us-”

  “Jack? Eddie?” Weezy said. Her voice sounded strange.

  Jack turned and saw her awed expression as she trained her flashlight beam across the room.

  “Look.”

  He followed her beam and stepped back in shock when he saw two chairs on the ceiling.

  “What the…?” His mouth had gone dry.

  Those chairs had been part of the furniture pile a moment ago. Now they were in the front corner of the room, resting on their sides against the ceiling.

  “We’re outta here,” he said.

  He and Eddie tried the heavy wooden door together but it wouldn’t budge-wouldn’t even rattle. Seemed like it had fused to the frame.

  He crossed the room to the window and looked out. Beyond the wrought-iron bars, the frozen surface of Quaker Lake reflected the streetlights of the sleeping town.

  He tried to raise the sash but it wouldn’t budge-either painted shut or fused like the door. He could break the glass but didn’t see the point: They’d never get past the bars crisscrossing the opening.

  “Hey, guys,” Eddie said, his ear pressed against the door. “Somebody’s out in the hall.”

  Jack joined him at the door. He heard movement outside to their right. Floorboards creaking, joists squealing in distress.

  Someone? No, some thing was moving down the hall, something massive, coming their way.

  “Stand back,” Jack said, pulling Eddie with him.

  The sounds of the walls, floor, and maybe even the ceiling of the hallway struggling to hold together grew louder and closer. Cracks zigzagged along the stucco walls of the room, the door bulged inward as if some monstrous weight were pressing against its far side. It didn’t look like it could hold.

  Jack looked around, spotted an open closet door, pointed.