“Agreed, Daniel,” K’chal nodded. “Still, it would appear, John, that whatever drives him, it must have begun before Jennifer or Daniel had even met you.”
He thought on this for a minute, then added: “In a number of the visions you’ve had, you’ve seen Babbitt as a madman at times, but also as ... something more?”
“Oh, well, yeah. But that couldn’t have been Babbitt.” John’s forehead creased as he pondered even the possibility of such a thing. “I mean … could it?”
K’chal shrugged and avoided a direct answer. “Mmm,” he said. “Whatever the case may be, Babbitt has been dogging your steps, holding a grudge since your first encounter with Reverend Medhurst. It sounds somewhat farfetched, but he seems to be acting much like a jilted lover or–”
“–or a jealous man.” Daniel had a sudden flash of incite. “That’s it!”
John and K’chal turned to him, both mildly surprised by his outburst.
“The guy’s nuts,” Daniel said excitedly. “It makes all his thoughts, even the simplest ones, almost impossible to read. But the emotions ... oh, the emotions, now those I can get. Past all that anger and fear and lust for power, this guy is jealous, John. Jealous of you and–”
“–my friendship with the reverend?” John’s intuition also kicked in. He couldn’t hide a look of utter incredulity. “Could that be it?”
“It makes as much sense as anything else.” K’chal stated.
Daniel was about to again add something, but he stopped and cocked his head; then the New Yorker quipped: “Right on cue, as usual–”
“Friendship has nothing to do with it.”
They turned in unison to see Jennifer entering the living room. She looked stunning, as usual … but although she had attempted to cover it up, it was obvious she had been crying recently.
They trio of men in the living room all stood as she entered.
“Arthur Medhurst isn’t Babbitt’s friend. He’s his keeper.”
John, Daniel and K’chal stared at her, unsure exactly what she meant.
“Are you honestly telling me you didn’t know that? Three smart fellas like you?” She strode across the office, shaking her head as she did. “You boys! Sometimes I really do wonder about you.”
John beamed at her. “The perfect entrance, as always.”
“I practice them at home in the mirror.”
At the same moment, they both leaned towards each other, and then they kissed. It was long and passionate, and it lingered …
… and lingered ...
Tired of waiting for them, Daniel said, “So! K’chal! How about that Australian Rules football, eh?”
The kiss continued.
K’chal glared coolly at Daniel, then turned away to give John and Jennifer a moment of privacy. When Jennifer and John finally broke from the kiss, she glowered at Daniel. “Once a schoolboy always a schoolboy, young Daniel?”
“Ouch!” K’chal cracked his first smile since his imitation of Crocodile Dundee.
But Jennifer was only trying to lighten the mood and keep her mind off heavier things. She laughed and gave Daniel an affectionate kiss on the cheek. These were clearly dear friends. Then she turned to K’chal, still feeling playful. “K’chal, a compliment, please,” she insisted.
With a rare, uncustomary lightness, K’chal continued the play. “Ah, dear lady,” he said, exaggerating every word. “I would say you were never more beautiful than today ... but then you are never anything but beautiful.”
Jennifer grinned. “Perfect, as always.” She leaned in, kissed him on the cheek and whispered theatrically in his ear, but still loud enough that everyone could hear. “Meet me in the back seat of the Bentley. Fifteen minutes. My treat.”
John played along, feigning outrage. “Hey!”
K’chal raised his eyes to the ceiling, patted at his heart, and sighed. “If only it were true! Be still my beating heart!”
They had all been caught up in pain and sadness for far too long. This was a rare, all-too- brief moments to have some fun. The group circled each other, all laughing. They stayed that way for a few minutes.
Eventually they had to get back to the problems at hand. John slipped an arm around Jennifer and held her close as she touched his face, his chest, his arms – making sure he was okay. “Are you sure you are all right?”
“I’m fine; really.” He was a touch uncomfortable with this attention in front of the guys and quickly changed the subject; a touch too quickly as it turned out. “How’s the reverend?”
Jennifer’s playful mood instantly evaporated. Their short escape from reality was over; just like that. “Unconscious.” She had to fight back tears. “I’m afraid he might not make it.”
John tightened the arm around her shoulders, trying to comfort her, as they all thought on that possibility, and what it might mean.
Finally K’chal stated the obvious. “His destiny is in the hands of those equipped to help ... if the fates so decide it.”
They all went quiet again, and he stopped and closed his eyes, yet another uncustomary action for him. When he opened them he stared squarely at Jennifer. His voice carried the strange hint of an echo. His words were almost a proclamation. “While I cannot give any assurances, I can tell you I believe he will make a full recovery, though it may take some serious time.”
Jennifer, John and Daniel all stared at him, that load of worry somehow miraculously lifted from them. K’chal allowed a few more seconds for his statement to sink in.
When he spoke again, his voice was back to normal. “Unfortunately, we have a problem of our own – one I am sure the good Reverend would be the first to bring up.”
“You’re right, of course, K’chal,” John agreed. Then he remembered what Jennifer had said earlier. “Jen! What did you mean about the reverend being Babbitt’s keeper?’
“I meant it literally. Like a zookeeper. He keeps Babbitt – or rather, the creature inside Babbitt – in its cage. Through incantation, prayer, sheer force of will, I don’t know. But Arthur keeps it in.”
“The creature inside Babbitt?” John was openly confused. “Ya mean his hatred, surely?”
“Oh, I mean a lot more than just hatred, John. Remember the attack in your hotel room in London?”
John was puzzled and didn’t even bother to try and hide it. They all understood he was new to this and it was his only way to learn; even if what he heard scared the living daylights out of him. “You mean that really happened? I thought it was a nightmare … just like the others I’d been having.”
Jennifer didn’t answer. That was an answer in itself.
John sat, shocked, thinking back on what he had been convinced was a nightmare – at least until now. “I mean, of – of course I remember it,” he said haltingly. “But that was something … not human. Are you … are you saying that thing lives inside Babbitt?”
“‘Lives’ might not be exactly the right word,” Daniel said, well-informed on the subject already. “It’s more of a symbiotic relationship. One that Babbitt, as weak a personality as he is, would not wish to give up – not voluntarily, anyway.”
John didn’t want to believe it, but somehow he knew it was true.
“Perhaps that is why the human part of Babbitt hates you so much, John,” K’chal postulated aloud. “In his diseased mind, you are a threat. If the reverend became distracted, if he decided to stop helping–”
“–Or if the reverend were seriously incapacitated,” Daniel cut in.
John flashed a look at Jennifer, thought about her concern for the reverend’s life and added: “–Or God forbid, even worse–”
“– the cage could collapse and the demon could escape,” K’chal said. “And –”
“– and the human part of Babbitt, pitiful though it is, will get eaten alive.” Daniel finished, looking very unhappy at the possibility.
“There is nothing else for it. We cannot let Babbitt run around loose.” Jennifer voiced the concern they all shared.
John visibly shuddered at the thought of another go-round with Babbitt. “And if my ... visions … are any indication, we’re gonna have our hands full.”
Ever the pragmatic one, K’chal stated an obvious point. “We all agree we must stop him. But first we have to find him – something the police have obviously been unable so far to do.”
“This is a huge city.” John rubbed at his forehead. “He could be anywhere.”
“He’s at 627 East End Lane, WC2, wherever that is.” Daniel grinned like a Cheshire cat, in an instant his old rambunctious self.
“It is an area near the Thames River,” Jennifer said. “We could be there in less than half-an-hour.”
John stared at Daniel, amazed. “Daniel, how did ya–?”
“Poor guy tore his shirt.” Daniel held up a scrap of white cloth, his grin even wider now. “You know me. If I can touch it, it can’t keep a secret.”
John now looked askance at Daniel. “And you say I’m weird.”
Daniel grinned from ear to ear, and then shook his head. “You are, my Australian friend, you are. Take it from me.”
It was up to Jennifer to bring things back to the problem at hand. “So! Are we all agreed we have to do this?”
The other three nodded.
“Then I suggest we discuss a plan for what to do when we find him,” John said, his concern obvious.
Agreed,” K’chal answered. “And since the reverend will not be with us, we should…”
He never finished his statement.
*******
The entire room shuddered, and then ripped violently back and forth, as if it were struggling prey caught in the mouth of a hungry lion.
The moment it eased, another violent quake struck.
John and Jennifer clutched tightly to each other and struggled to stay upright. Daniel’s chair pitched backward and he was thrown unceremoniously to the floor.
K’chal dropped into a crouch, both arms straight out, and waved gently to help him keep his balance. He looked like a surfer navigating ‘the big one’.
The quaking ended, but was quickly replaced by an earsplitting, splintering roar, as if the earth had literally torn open beneath their feet. And the room was instantly filled with dense smoke. They couldn’t even see each other.
“What in God’s name is that smell?” Jennifer’s voice called from somewhere in the smoke filled room.
“I hate to think,” John answered. “But the last time I smelled it, a wall of living flame was trying t’ turn me inta burnt toast. I got a bad feelin’ about this”
“You think?” Daniel’s quip lifted from inside the smoke. He couldn’t see his hand in front of his face, much less his companions.
A moment later, however, the smoke began to dissipate … and a moment after that, it was gone.
The living room in St. John’s Church Rectory was empty of smoke now. It looked just as it always had. Nothing was broken; everything was in its place…
… but there was no sign of Jennifer, John, Daniel and K’chal.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
John, Jennifer, Daniel and K'chal stood in a dark, murky room, a strange mist blotting out the far corners and billowing around their ankles. It was hard to make out much of anything, though one thing was clearly evident: they were no longer in the living room of St. John’s Rectory.
“What the hell just happened?” Daniel stared around, squinting, trying to make out something in the shadowy grey. “And where the hell are we?”
The mist slowly dissipated. They were finally able to make out nearby objects: a fireplace, furniture, even Yuletide decorations hung along one wall.
John couldn’t believe it. “I … I think … it looks like the living room of the Amityville house … or at least something made to look like it.”
“The question,” K’chal asked, “is how did we get here? And why?”
“I’m damned if I know.” John turned to Jennifer. “Jen?”
She stretched her hands out in front of her ‘feeling’ the area, then shook her head, just as puzzled as the others. “I don’t know how, but if I had to hazard a guess, I would say Brendan Babbitt is involved.”
“Would Babbitt have the juice to do something like…” John motioned around him. “… like this?”
“Didn’t he do similar things in those visions you told us about?” K’chal asked, his eyes never stopping their sweep around the room.
“Well … yeah.” John stared at the scene they now found themselves in. “But to take all four of us physically from the Rectory and conjure up all this here … could he do that?”
“Can you be absolutely certain we are here?” K’chal asked. “Perhaps this is all some trick of the mind.”
“And Babbitt may not be actually responsible.” Jennifer lowered her hands and stepped closer to John’s side.
“That would corroborate the strange emanations I am feeling that seem to coming from somewhere nearby.” K’chal’s words were again matter-of-fact, as if he were talking about a trip to the mall. “Are you sensing anything, Daniel?”
“Oh, yeah,” Daniel answered. “And boy, do I have a bad feeling about this.”
“What is it, Daniel?” The others seemed to be somehow prepared for this, but John didn’t know what to think.
Daniel shook his head. “Well … that’s a really good question. I’m not getting a clear picture; but whatever it is, it’s not human – at least not what we call human.”
His head snapped back and his eyes involuntarily slammed shut. After a short beat his eyes flashed open and he turned to John. “Hell, John. It sounds wacky; but I just got a flash of something I’d hoped I’d never see again: a monster that attacked me when I touched your journal in Malibu.”
“What?” John was taken aback. “Y’read my journal?”
“Well … no.” Daniel was embarrassed. “I mean, no, I never read it. I just touched it.”
“I don’t believe it.” John was incensed. “I told ya that was personal.”
“I know, man. And I’m sorry; but I swear, I never actually read it. And anyway, what I saw that day – that sure as hell wasn’t Babbitt, or any other normal human.”
K’chal sounded a warning. “Might I note here that in a few seconds we will know what we are faced with. And might I further suggest that we prepare ourselves for whatever it might be, as a team?”
“K’chal is right,” Jennifer said, gently taking John’s arm. “The rest of this discussion can wait a bit, can’t it?”
John scowled. “All right. It’s just – it’s just –”
“John,” Jennifer said, very seriously. “Let it rest.” She pointed to a shadowy corner of the room, off to their left. “We are not alone. And whatever it is, it’s coming that way.”
A mournful wail rose from the empty air.
Daniel shuddered as if touched by a sudden chill. “Oh, great!” he muttered. “Another happy soul!”
The mournful wail faded in the distance. And as it did …
… Brendan Babbitt shuffled into the room, dragging his right leg behind him as though it were no longer a part of his body. He was stooped and twitching. His eyes were wild. He stopped and stared at the four of them … and grinned.
“At last,” he said. “I fin’ly ‘ave you where I want y’. But first ...”
A sonorous growl bubbled up from somewhere deep inside him. His mouth dropped open, showing a seriously decayed, but still normal set of teeth. But as the growl grew in volume, the teeth changed: in seconds they were no longer anything human. They were suddenly wolfish, canine, each one impossibly large, jagged, rotting, and tipped with what looked like human blood.
As the quartet watched in amazement, Babbitt’s eyes sank in their sockets, into a nest of sinister red lines and circles as black as kohl. His f
eature distorted, rippled … then tore apart with a sickening squelch. His facial skin bubbled, wrinkled, twisted into the demonic beast both John and Daniel had seen earlier.
The beast’s long, purple tongue darted from its mouth. It licked itself, everywhere. Its breath was rapid and shallow, wet and thick.
This was no mask. When it spoke, its words sounded like the tearing of solid oak and the howl of a buzzsaw, both at once.
“NOW!” it yowled. “FINALLY I’M FREE!”
John was dumbstruck. He stared in disbelief at the thing standing in front of him. Even after all he’d been through…
“This can’t be right,” he said, almost choking on his own words. “It can’t be real. It must all be in our minds. Somethins messin’ with our minds here.”
He began to turn to Jennifer, desperate for an explanation, any explanation for the thing that was hunched in front of him. But before he could move, the Demon Babbitt swept out both of its still-human arms, as if waving a nonexistent blanket.
A massive invisible wall of force surged free. It caught John full in the chest, sent him thudding back against the nearby wall, fighting to keep his feet. It lifted Jennifer completely into the air and sent her slamming into a low-hanging lamp. She dropped to her knees, and then keeled over, unconscious. Daniel was hurled violently back. He skidded across the floor, thumped against the wall and collapsed to the floor, also out cold. K’chal stood the closest to the Demon-thing; he caught the full brunt of the attack. It rammed into his chest with an audible ttthunk, drove him backward with such force he cartwheeled end over end and crashed to the floor in the furthest corner of the room, landing spread-eagle and motionless. It was not immediately evident how badly he was hurt – or even if he was still alive.
John saw it all. Have to do something, he told himself. He forced his body back to its feet and lunged at the Demon-Babbitt, seized its still-normal arm. “Brendan!” he yelled into the thing’s distorted face. “Listen to me! We can help ya!”
The Demon-Babbitt turned, a sick grin further curling across its already ugly face. It flicked John’s grip away and seized him by the throat.
Amityville Horror Now Page 23
