In the open air, the morning was quiet and still after the close confines of the wood. The clearing was actually a kind of shelf, set high in the side of the mountain. Even though Joshua had never been here before, he found the view spectacular! He stepped towards the edge of the shelf and sighed. He completely forgot about the camera and took the view in naturally. A breeze ruffled his hair. For a moment, he just stood. Then, he raised the camera. It took a moment for the auto-focus to adjust, but when it did, he could see all around. To his left, the mountains sloped away into thicker, denser forest that ran all the way to the sea. Panning to the right – brought closer through the viewfinder – was the wide gulf. In the clear, crisp air of the December day, the water of the gulf stretched out like a sea of glass. Joshua followed the surface of the gulf to where the darker waters brightened to bluish green: the open sea. Directly across the waters of the gulf was a large city. Golden sunlight twinkled off towering structures. Plumes of smoke dotted various estates. Holiday traffic crawled.
Joshua panned back slightly. In the middle of the gulf, jutting out like a rocky tumor of green and grey, stood Devil’s Head—a solitary reminder of an age gone by. The place was named for its craggy shape and near-impossible accessibility. The head’s rocky coastline was clearly visible through the viewfinder. Joshua could see that it was quite precarious. For a moment, he thought he could actually hear the distant waves exploding against black rocks. In addition to the gulf, the head was protected by several other natural barriers. From where Joshua stood, the Prahmist Mountains sloped away to the right and sank into a series of low hills, guarding the head. These hills were blanketed with similar thick, dense woods—only a few old logging roads cut through them. Beyond the hills, where the head truly began, was the Poisoned Glen. Joshua could see it now; a long scar of grey nothingness in the otherwise lush, green landscape. The Poisoned Glen was a karst-like landscape; a deep indenture in the earth, so named because nothing grew there. The terrain was covered in colorless rocks—much like the Burren in Ireland. The glen swept down from the hills and met the waters of the gulf in the treacherous Devil’s Throat. Not far from there, back along the main coastline, Joshua could see the mouth of the River Emunah. Situated on top of the head itself – like the ancient crown of a sleeping giant king – Joshua could see the ruins of Haydesgate castle.
Joshua recalled hearing something about the castle recently, and zoomed in. The place looked like a finely-detailed model through the viewfinder, complemented here and there with other stone structures. Joshua noticed as well – looking strange and anachronistic against the otherwise ancient and natural surroundings – a few larger, more modern-looking buildings. One of them shone with a pale glare, reflecting the winter sun like a white coal. “Glass,” Joshua whispered. The buildings were new to him; Joshua had never seen or heard of them before.
When were they built? he wondered.
Joshua squinted and licked his lips. The place was a hive of activity. Vehicles moved soundlessly—and lots of people scurried about, all dressed in similar uniforms, looking like busy ant-drones from this distance. It was strange not hearing any of the sounds accompanying the activity. It gave the place a dreamy, otherworldly quality.
Joshua dropped his eyes and even noticed a few large boats docked near the opening the locals referred to as Devil’s Mouth. The Mouth was a large, cave-like arch situated in the base of the head itself. Dark waters foamed in and out of the Mouth like saliva. Yellow stalactite fangs hung from the yawning roof.
Joshua noticed something else: there were no roads showing in any direction from all the activity. He frowned. As near as he could recall, there had never been any roads going out to the head. So, how did all the activity come to be? How did the people get out there? And what was it they were doing? he wondered. Joshua was so enthralled by these questions that he completely forgot about the white dove that had led him to the rock shelf.
“Admiring my work, I see.”
Joshua spun, startled. He dropped the camera, and it landed with a moist thud. A few feet away – still half-hidden within the shadows of the dark wood – stood the fat man Joshua had seen in his driveway earlier. Joshua stared. How on earth a man this size could have snuck up behind him through a forest floor of dead twigs and damp foliage was beyond Joshua. However, the fact the man was standing in the same place Joshua had – just moments ago – emerged from the wood and out onto the rock shelf suggested the man actually followed Joshua.
The thought unnerved him.
CHAPTER 14
“An Unusual Conversation”
The fat man’s face was expressionless, masked by the dark sunglasses. He stepped out from the shadows and walked toward Joshua. Slowly, he bent and picked up the camera and handed it to the boy. For a moment, their hands touched. The fat man’s skin was cold. Joshua said nothing. The fat man straightened, smiled, ruffled Joshua’s hair, and stepped past him, looking out over the view below. His gaze finally landed upon Devil’s Head, Haydesgate castle, and the hive of activity it had become. Joshua did not turn to look at the fat man, but glanced at the mouth of the path nearby. For a moment, Joshua considered fleeing into the woods and back down the path the way he’d come.
But something told him this encounter was inevitable, like it was supposed to happen.
As if something had willed it, and driven him up here for this very purpose.
Looking into the woods, Joshua once again caught sight of the large white dove. It was perched on a nearby branch, still wearing that same solemn expression. It looked as if it somehow knew this meeting was about to take place. Joshua felt a kind of peace well up inside, and he forgot all about running. He turned and faced the fat man and asked, “Who are you?”
“Hungry?” the fat man said, ignoring Joshua’s question. He extended Joshua the baguette he had apparently produced out of nowhere. He tore off bits and was eating casually. His lips smacked loudly, a sound that annoyed Joshua. Bits of crumb collected at the corners of the fat man’s red mouth, and fell onto his dark suit like dandruff. Joshua caught a whiff of the baguette on the morning air—a fresh, hearty smell. It made his stomach growl. The fat man tore another piece from the baguette and crunched down on it. Even his teeth somehow seemed fat.
“No,” Joshua said. “I’m not hungry.”
“All right,” the fat man smiled. He wrapped the baguette in a napkin and put it inside his coat pocket. He brushed the crumbs from his large belly. “Suit yourself.”
“Who are you?” Joshua persisted.
“Yep,” the fat man sighed, once again ignoring Joshua’s question. He turned and paced to the edge of the shelf, turning his gaze once more to Devil’s Head far below. “I built it. I built it all.”
Joshua looked past the fat man and followed his gaze. Without meaning to, he took a step closer to the edge of the shelf. He had an undeniable sense of curiosity regarding what was going on down there—even admiration.
“It’s mine,” the fat man concluded. A strange silence fell between them, like they had known each other for years. Without looking at Joshua, the fat man whispered, “I’ll give it to you.”
Joshua stared at the back of the fat man’s head for a moment. As if sensing this, the fat man turned and looked at him. The sunlight reflected sharply off his sunglasses and Joshua shielded his eyes. When Joshua saw past the glare, he saw the fat man smiling. There was something untrustworthy about his smile; dubious—sinister even. Joshua took an involuntary step backwards.
“What?!” he blurted out. Joshua randomly recalled how Charlie Bucket had once been given the Chocolate Factory by the mysterious Willie Wonka. That had turned out all right for him in the end, he thought. For one bizarre moment, Joshua wondered if this conversation might perhaps be some kind of strange, wonderful opportunity for him.
Had his father had anything to do with this?
“W-what are you talking about?” Joshua stammered. He took another step back, and the fat man watched him—still smiling
. Joshua wondered if this man’s smile ever faltered.
Lyons was accustomed to people reacting to him this way. It was something he relished. “I said,” he took a slow step towards Joshua, “I’ll give it to you, Joshua.”
Joshua’s eyes widened.
“Yes,” Lyons whispered. “I know your name. I know all about you, Joshua. Your father and I are . . . associates.” He smiled. “From long ago.” Lyons once again turned his gaze to the scene far below. “Yes,” he said again. “I’ll give it all to you and more, Joshua.” He paused, sensing Joshua was deep in thought. Lyons turned and looked at the boy with a manufactured demeanor of innocence and trust. “You’re curious,” he said, “aren’t you, Joshua?”
Joshua swallowed hard.
“You see,” Lyons continued, “this is just one facility, Joshua. But my approach is far-reaching.” He spread his hands. “Oh, yes,” he nodded, “Far-reaching indeed.”
Joshua blinked at the fat man, confused.
Lyons turned and took another step toward Joshua, leaning in very close. When he spoke, his tone was surprisingly pleasant. “You see, Joshua, you have something that I need.”
“I do?” Joshua’s brow wrinkled. “What’s that?”
The fat man laughed, and paced past him, clapping him on the shoulder. “Influence, my boy! Influence!”
“Influence?” Joshua said hesitantly. “W-what are you talking about? Nobody knows who I am.”
The fat man laughed for a moment. “No, but they will,” he said. “They will indeed. Thanks to your father.” He looked at Joshua once more. “You see, Joshua, you’re going to inherit The Kingdom. Don’t look so surprised,” he said. “You’ve heard of it, I’m sure. But I don’t need influence with people, Joshua. I already have that. No,” the fat man stepped closer again, towering over Joshua, looking down at him through those dark sunglasses. Joshua could see himself clearly reflected in the lenses. He was suddenly struck by the horror of it. When the fat man spoke again, his voice was like the hiss of a snake: “I need influence with your father, Joshua.”
“Influence—?” Joshua asked.
“Leverage.”
“My father—?”
“Yes!” The fat man dropped to one knee and placed his hands on Joshua’s shoulders. He licked his lips hungrily. “Don’t you see, Joshua? You could convince Theo to back me, to give me The Kingdom! In order to help me build my network!”
Joshua shook his head—slowly at first, and then more rapidly.
“Our network!” Lyons persisted. There was a strain in his voice. “The Scientific Improvement Network!”
“No!” Joshua shouted. The boy no longer saw anything of himself in Lyons’ black sunglasses, but it seemed to him that something cold and ancient burned beneath.
“Think of it, Joshua!” Lyons pleaded, rising to his feet. “You and me, together, we could—”
“No!” Joshua said again, and pulled away from the grasp of the fat man.
The fat man raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. He smiled again—even chuckled. “Now, hold on, son, let me finish,” he said innocently. “At least let me finish.” Lyons paced towards the edge of the clearing, as if collecting his thoughts. He put his hands on his hips and waited. After a moment, his eyes closed behind those dark sunglasses and he smiled.
Behind him, Joshua lowered his eyes to the ground. But then he turned his head and looked hesitantly once more towards Devil’s Head and Haydesgate castle far below.
Though Joshua could not see, Lyons’ smile deepened.
As Joshua stared at the scene far below, something happened. The scene changed.
“Can you see it?” a voice whispered—somewhere far away, in his mind.
Joshua did not pull his gaze away. He stared, as if entranced. Devil’s Head and the rest of the view broke apart and fell away; there opened before him what seemed a vista of all the lands in the earth. In the next confusing moments, it was as if Joshua could see what the entire world would be like under the influence of Lyons’ Scientific Improvement Network. Joshua saw himself in charge; all the people in the world came to him, looked to him, answered to him, served him. They fell down before him. Joshua’s temperature rose, and his breath quickened. He fought to understand the vision. He could not discern if what he saw was dream or premonition—a forgotten past or distant future; images from this life or some other.
“And, in exchange,” the voice continued—a deep, timeless voice that sounded familiar and foreign all at once, “I will reward you with position and power and prominence. You see . . . what I am doing is merely a start, Joshua. The Scientific Improvement Network will soon be embraced by everyone in the world. And I can’t run it alone. I’m going to need help. I need to surround myself with people—powerful people, people I can trust who will be loyal to me, and help my vision come to pass. Can you see it?” the voice whispered once and then demanded again, “Can you see it?”
Joshua’s eyes widened as the world below erupted in flames and rushed to the edge of the rock-shelf itself. He gasped and raised his hands to cover his face. He could hear the fire burning; he felt the onslaught of heat. Within the dancing flames, Joshua saw gold, and wealth, and power unlike anything he had imagined in his wildest dreams.
“Give me The Kingdom,” the voice growled, deeper and older than before. “Give me The Kingdom, and all will be yours, Joshua.”
Hypnotically – as if an unseen hand were placed under his chin – Joshua looked up. Past all the riches and images of wealth, looming large on the horizon like a demon wreathed in flame, was the huge face of the fat man. He looked down upon it all, his hands outstretched in a display of glory. His fingers glowed red in the flames, as if covered in blood. Joshua noticed that now, in this vision, the fat man no longer wore his sunglasses. They were gone, and his naked eyes glowed with an eerie red and green light—a light that seemed like envy and rage all at once. The eyes were huge, like twin moons rising upon a Science Fiction horizon. They stared at Joshua, hypnotized him. He took an involuntary step forward, towards the edge of the rock-shelf. He was being drawn in.
But then something bright flashed across his line of sight. Joshua’s eyes were wrested from the vision and he stumbled backwards and fell. As if waking from sleep, Joshua shook his head and looked around. It took a moment to remember where he was. The white dove fluttered past him, and Joshua watched as the bird resumed its perch upon one of the low-hanging branches of a nearby tree. He stared at it a moment and suddenly came to himself.
“No!” he shouted and drove a fist against the hardened winter earth. The pain was excruciating, but he welcomed it. Joshua whipped his head around and looked at the world below. Everything was as it should be again: the Head, the gulf, the woods, the city. From somewhere behind, a bird chirped peacefully. Joshua closed his eyes and felt the fresh December wind at his face. All was quiet and cold and normal again, but Joshua was sweating all over.
Behind him, near the edge of the clearing, the fat man looked at Joshua, as though in shock. For a moment, this was the scene: Joshua collapsed on the ground, with Lou Lyons glaring at him from behind dark sunglasses. Neither of them moved. Sound was sucked away, as if the woodland realm awaited the outcome of this showdown. The world was on pause.
Lyons quickly strode toward Joshua. “Joshua,” he said, “let me help you up.” The fat man loomed over Joshua and extended his hand, the dark glasses an unbetraying mask.
Joshua looked at Lyons’ hand and called to mind the vision he had seen.
Had Lyons seen it, too?
The fat man spoke again: “Take my hand, son.”
Joshua lifted his gaze and looked directly into Lyons’ face. “I’m not your son,” he said.
Lyons watched as – very slowly, but with an undeniable strength – Joshua rose to his feet. The boy’s gaze locked with his own in an unwavering stare. Lyons took an involuntary step back.
“I have a father,” Joshua said clearly. “And I will do what he wants me to d
o with The Kingdom.”
“Joshua,” Lyons smiled again. He took a step toward him.
“Now get away from me!” Joshua said sternly. His chest rose and fell passionately.
The fat man stood looking at Joshua a moment.
Joshua wondered what he would do next. He couldn’t explain why, but he was convinced the things he had seen in his vision were somehow induced by this man’s words—conjured up, as though by some evil magician or other being possessed of unnatural powers. But Joshua was not afraid. He knew that he had only to remain loyal to his father and things would ultimately be put right.
The fat man sighed, disappointed. He knew the conversation was over. He looked at the ground and kicked a rock. With his head still bent forward, he turned and looked at Devil’s Head, Haydesgate Castle—and, perhaps, beyond, as if in deep thought. He raised his head, breathed deeply, and exhaled, “Ahhhhhh!” It was either a sound of genuine refreshment, or masked frustration. “All right, Joshua,” he said simply and smiled. “All right.” Straightening himself, Lyons put his hands in his pockets, and started for the line of trees.
Joshua watched him go, glad the encounter was over.
Before entering the woods, however, Lyons stopped and turned back to Joshua once more. He no longer smiled as he spoke. “Have it your way, Joshua,” he said, and was gone.
For a moment, it seemed to Joshua that the fat man’s large frame simply entered the woods and was gone. There was no diminishing of sound as he made his way back down the path, no snapping of twigs beneath his immense weight. The fat man simply vanished. Joshua stood in the clearing for some time, watching where the fat man had gone into the woods, waiting to see if he would re-emerge, wondering if he hovered just within the line of trees like a specter. So convinced of this was he that it was actually some time before Joshua looked away again. When he did, he turned his gaze once more to Devil’s Head, Haydesgate castle, and the other strange buildings far below.
The Evil Within the Woods Page 8
