The Hollowed

by Jay Caselberg

  “Yeah, okay, but that’s not necessarily going to help, is it?”

  “No, but it might give us some idea.”

  “Yeah, maybe. Listen, I’ve got an idea. Are you up for an excursion on the weekend? Maybe Saturday?”

  Jason thought about that for a couple of moments. “I guess so. I was just thinking about Claudia.”

  “Yeah, well, Stase often goes out and does stuff on a Saturday. Beauticians and shit like that. I’ll just tell her I’m going over to see you. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Okay, I can work something out.”

  “Good. Anything you can find out in the meantime would be great.”

  They lapsed into silence. Chris felt better about having some sort of plan, but the traces of fear still wormed inside his chest. Now, at least, he wasn’t alone.

  Chapter Thirty

  Something for the Weekend

  Chris picked Jason up from his house on the Saturday afternoon and, not without some trepidation, they headed off for the cathedral. Jason, as usual, was decked out in a bulky sweater and corduroy pants. Jason looked nervous, a little unsure. He’d come up with nothing from his research effort over the past few days, and that also unsettled him. He’d been looking for things associated with vans and strange periods of blankness in people’s lives. He did research, he was good at research, and yet he’d drawn a blank. All he’d come up with was the usual rubbish about abductions.

  They had to cross the town to get to where the cathedral sat, but traffic was light, and apart from weekend shoppers, the streets remained free-flowing.

  “So, where’s Claudia?” Chris asked him.

  Jason chuckled. “Funny you should ask that. She’s gone off to meet Stase to do some shopping.”

  Chris gave a short unamused laugh. “Huh. I knew she was meeting a girlfriend, but she didn’t bother to say who.”

  “Well, that’s the girls for you.”

  They drove on in silence for a while.

  “So what do you expect to find there?” asked Jason after a while.

  “I don’t know. Some way to get in and see what they’re up to. Everything I’ve seen happens during the week. I’m hoping they have less activity on the weekend. Maybe we’ll get a chance to sneak inside, have a quick look and get out again. Enough for us to develop a proper strategy. What do you think?”

  Jason nodded, his eyebrows beetling. “Uh-huh. Sounds like a plan.”

  “You thought any more about this stuff?”

  “Jesus, man. I’ve thought about nothing but. I don’t like the idea that something’s screwing with my head. Not at all. My head’s my most important asset, apart from my sylph-like frame and animal magnetism.” He chuckled at himself, tapping with one hand on the dash. “Can I put some music on?”

  “Yeah, sure,” said Chris. They didn’t have to concentrate on anything particularly yet.

  “Thanks. Just want something to steady the nerves. Keep my mind off it, so to speak.” He pushed in a CD and drummed on the dash with his fingers in time to the music, singing wordlessly under his breath as he watched the passing streets.

  “Jason, listen,” said Chris. “I really appreciate this.”

  “Shit. Nothing. Happy to be along.” He didn’t look it.

  As they neared the area of the cathedral, Chris slowed and killed the volume. He recognized the streets now, having imprinted them firmly the last time he was here. A couple of times he’d pulled up maps on some of the search programs and studied the street layout, so he knew exactly where he was going. He knew his way around, but just needed the confirmation to be clear in his own mind. Stase never even bothered disturbing him when he was online. She seemed to have no interest, except when she had something very specific to look up, and then she got Chris to do it for her.

  He slowed still further, leaning forward in his seat and studying the road, the surrounding houses, the trees along the side of the road, even the sky above them. He kept on being afraid of seeing some large black flying thing tracking them as they went. Jason was still drumming gently with his fingers.

  They turned into the street containing the large building that was their destination. Chris frowned, in spite of himself. The street was packed with cars. Something appeared to be going on. Deciding that caution was the right course, he decided to cruise past the cathedral, have a look, and then park somewhere beyond it.

  As they reached the cathedral grounds, Chris sucked air through his teeth. “Shit,” he said.

  In the front of the cathedral steps sat a couple of large black cars, ribbons draped from their hoods to the top of their windows. A crowd of people stood on the steps and arrayed out in front of them. The wooden doors were wide open. It was a wedding. It was a bloody wedding. But that didn’t make sense. How could there be a wedding here if this was supposed to be the place where things happened? Chris cruised past slowly, turning his head to look. It was real enough.

  “So, what do you make of that?” said Jason.

  “Shit,” he said. “I don’t know. Damned if I know.” He shook his head and sped up and away.

  Scratch that plan. He had to think of something else.

  He’d dropped Jason off at his place with the agreement that he’d give him a call as soon as he came up with any real idea what they needed to do next. At the same time, Jason agreed to continue his research, not that he seemed very hopeful that he was going to come up with anything.

  On the way home, Chris decided that he could at least swing past the cathedral on the following day, Sunday, and see what was going on there: whether the place did more than service bridal parties. He didn’t need Jason along for that particular excursion.

  In the morning, he gave Stase some story about going out to get a few things from the store, leaving her half asleep and still in bed. She liked to sleep in on the weekends and had been staying in bed later over the past few weeks. He figured he could pick up the papers and perhaps some breakfast things on the way back, enough to make his story credible.

  Sunday morning, it was a quick run across town to the cathedral, and he was there in record time. As with the previous day, he drove slowly past, looking not only to see if he could spot the vans, but also for any other activity. As he neared the cathedral grounds, he was surprised, and at the same time unsurprised to see a cluster of cars around the area, and again, the doors open.

  He chewed at his lip, trying to decide what he was going to do. He glanced at his watch to make sure of how much time had passed and how much time he might have left, though the way Stase slept and kept going back to sleep during the weekend, she was not likely to be unaware of how much time had actually passed since he left. Setting his mouth firmly, he located a parking space and pulled up to the curb. He may as well find out what was going on there.

  Chris walked back to the cathedral’s front, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He slowed as he reached the front gate. A quick look had revealed no sign of the vans out the back, and for the moment, he didn’t think that was a very good sign. He was almost starting to think he was imaging things again. But he couldn’t be. Jason had been with him. He’d seen them too. Where did they put the things on the weekend? He stood at the gate, watching and listening. There were unmistakable sounds coming from inside the building, floating down the path towards him on this bright, crisp morning.

  “Damn,” he said quietly to himself. He knew what the sounds were, but he didn’t want to admit it right now. It was singing. The sounds of multiple voices blurred by the building itself and the distance at which he stood, joined together in song and underneath it all, the sound of an electric organ sounding more like a 70’s rock band than real church music.

  Chris slipped through the gate and walked nervously up to the front steps. If he could just get a look inside…

  He took the steps slowly, one at a time, pausing with each new level. The voices were clearer now. Definitely singing. Definitely singing a hymn. They were having a service inside.

&nb
sp; He took the last step and crossed to the side of one of the doors, gently leaning his face around the corner so he could see inside. He got a good view of the back few rows. People stood, prayer books in hand, belting out the chorus of an old standard, the mix of good voices and others making the kind of amateur swell of noise that came with public services. He pulled his head back, thinking. If they were holding a church service in there, how the hell could this be anything else but a functioning church? Though he had often wondered what happened to these places most of the time when there weren’t services in progress. Did they just gather dust in the hollow spaces that echoed between the walls?

  He ducked his head around the corner for another look. Long lines of pale, polished wood pews, scattered with people in groups, or individually, stretched up to the front, where a pale stone altar sat beneath an unadorned window. A tall crucifix was affixed to the wall beneath the window, pale polished wood, almost matching the pews, but not quite. A brown stone floor, matt and smooth, echoed the sound of the congregation, sending it bouncing back from light stone walls. The interior was simple, unaffected, strangely unlike what he had imagined for the interior of a cathedral. It was big enough; there just didn’t seem to be any of the trappings of high religion. A couple of flag-like devices were affixed to the walls, one burgundy, one green, with gold letters embroidered into them, but they looked dull and faded.

  He pulled himself back and stepped quickly down the stairs and out to the street. He didn’t want to be caught hanging around here, and he wasn’t keen on being seen. He walked quickly back to the car, a new plan starting to form inside his head.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  What Happens Inside

  Chris was ready, well, just as ready as he was going to be. He’d picked the night with care, a Thursday evening when Stase was going out for drinks with the girls. He’d given Jason a preparatory phone call from work, checking that it was going to be all right with him. Jason was a little bemused when Chris had asked him if he owned a crowbar, but then it was the sort of thing Jason would own. It wasn’t the fact of asking for it; it was what he wanted it for. He also suggested he bring along a flashlight. Chris had one of those big heavy-duty black numbers from the tool cupboard downstairs, and he’d checked that the battery was okay, and everything was working correctly. He’d shoved the flashlight, a hammer, and a pair of pliers, in a small black bag in preparation, not one hundred percent sure exactly what he needed to take, and stashed it in the cupboard from which he’d taken the flashlight. He wasn’t worried about Stase finding it and asking any potentially awkward questions. He had never seen her open the cupboard once. All it held were tools and old cans of paint.

  He’d also asked Jason about Claudia.

  “No, no trouble,” he’d said. “You know the little woman. Works till all hours. She’ll get home when she’s ready and if I’m out, well I just got bored at home. Simple.”

  “Okay, if you’re right then, I’ll pick you up around six thirty.”

  He grabbed the bag from downstairs, headed out to the car, and got in. He sat for a few minutes, just staring ahead, his hands on the steering wheel, wondering if he was doing the right thing; finally, convinced he had little other choice, he kicked the engine into life and pulled out onto the street. He’d come this far; he might as well go all the way.

  When he rang at Jason’s door, it took only moments for a shadow to darken the glass from the inside and the door to swing open. Jason nodded to him and stood there looking back as if waiting for something. Chris glanced down, and piled on the floor to one side lay a crowbar, a hefty flashlight and a pair of bolt-cutters.

  “Aren’t you going to put those in something?” he asked.

  Jason grinned sheepishly. “Oh yeah,” he said. He disappeared back down the hall and left Chris standing on the front doorstep rocking back and forth on his heels. Jason reappeared a few moments later with a battered black canvas bag, dropped it on the floor and crouched down to shove all the things inside it. He stood, rubbing the palms of his hands together. “Let’s hope we don’t get pulled over,” he said. “Anybody’d think we were off to do a spot of housebreaking. Not that we aren’t.”

  “Yeah, okay,” said Chris, not in the least amused. Jason seemed to be taking this awfully lightly.

  Jason lifted his eyebrows then stooped and hefted the bag. “Okay. Let’s go then,” he said. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “Yeah, so do I…” said Chris.

  When they got to the car, Chris opened the back door. “Shove that stuff on the floor back there. We need to keep it in easy reach.”

  They both climbed in and Chris started the car. Jason was chewing at his lip.

  Chris turned to look at him.

  “You’re okay with this, aren’t you?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” said Jason. “Just a little nervous, I guess.”

  Chris was too. Breaking into places wasn’t something he exactly made a habit of. Jason had been good enough to agree to come though, so he wasn’t going to try and unsettle him any further than he already seemed to be.

  They drove in silence across to the other side of town, Jason not even asking to put on any of his habitual music.

  Chris pulled up a little way down from the cathedral, killed the engine and the lights and waited. He wanted to see if there was any kind of activity around the place, if there was anything that might give them away. It was a quiet, mainly residential street. A couple of cars drove by in quick succession, and then everything was quiet again.

  Jason cleared his throat. “Um…”

  Chris held up a hand. “Hang on, we need to be sure.”

  He’d been thinking about this. The cathedral grounds had enough trees to provide a fair bit of covering shadow. There were a couple of nearby streetlights, but they didn’t cast that much illumination into the grounds. With the trees lining the street, which still hadn’t lost their leaves, the grounds and building itself were further obscured. If the pair of them kept low enough, what with the surrounding walls, they should be able to avoid immediate observation.

  Chris was just about to reach for the door handle when he saw an old figure, long coat, walking slowly up the street towards them.

  “Shit,” he said. There was no way the old guy could miss them. Maybe it was dark enough, and what with the shadow of the trees around them, if they sat very still, he might just walk past without even seeing them. “Don’t move,” he said quietly.

  “Wha—?”

  Chris cut him off with a quick wave of his hand.

  The old man kept coming, walking slowly with a slightly uneven gait. His neck was bent forward, watching the pavement as he came. Chris held his breath. A small white dog pulled on a leash in front of him.

  The old man walked slowly past, seemingly intent on his own feet, or at least the ground beneath them. He didn’t even look up.

  Chris let out a long, relieved breath.

  “Thank God this is a quiet neighborhood,” he said. “I’d rather we weren’t seen.”

  Jason nodded.

  Reaching over the back, Chris pulled up Jason’s canvas bag, juggled it over the seat back and dropped it into his lap, then reaching over again, felt around and snagged his own bag.

  “Okay, hang on a moment,” he said, checking the front and all of the mirrors. “Right, it seems to be clear. We’ll just get out, walk quickly but calmly across to the gates and then straight inside. Once we get behind the front fence, keep low and we’ll head for the back. We can’t very well go in through the front door.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” said Jason, reaching for his door and pausing.

  “There’s got to be a back way in somehow,” said Chris. “Okay, let’s go.”

  As they both stepped out of the car and gently closed their doors, a slightly curious thought came to Chris. It was the most definite action he’d taken about anything for a long, long time. In everything, with the house, with the relationship, he’d just been si
tting back and watching, letting it happen. Even looking for the hollow people wasn’t real action. It was just more of the same, standing back and watching. This was actually doing something.

  They made it to the gate and further with no problem. Chris, keeping an eye out for other people, dashed along the side of the cathedral, Jason beside him, their bags barely above the grass that whipped past their feet. They rounded the corner to the back and Chris held up a hand, stopping Jason in his tracks. They were in deep shadow here. The branches of the nearby tree blocked the sky above, and Chris pulled them in close to the wall. His breath was coming quickly, and he could hear Jason breathing rapidly beside him. He took a couple of moments to slow his breathing, looking around, seeing if he could spot anything of use.

  All was still. Not one, not two, but five white vans sat parked in a line back from the building itself. He swallowed. Okay, the vans were here. They definitely hadn’t been on the weekend, or not that he could see. He listened. A faint breeze stirred through the leaves above him, seeming to whisper caution.

  “Do you hear anything?” he breathed, close to Jason’s ear. Jason shook his head and Chris nodded.

  Step by careful step, he moved further around the back of the building, Jason following close behind. He could smell the dampness, the mud, the thick earthy scent of moldering leaves. He put out a hand, feeling the cold rough stone of the cathedral’s wall. Every couple of steps, he paused looked around, checked behind him, but apart from the slight motion of the leaves above, everything seemed still.

  Along a facing wall, right near the corner was a small door that Chris presumed must lead inside. It probably didn’t give access to the body of the cathedral proper, but it was a way in. Whatever lay behind it must give entry, or at least a route to what sat beyond. He indicated the door with a tilt of his head and Jason nodded and took a few quick steps over to it. Chris kept watch and then trod rapidly over to join him. Jason was running his hand slowly over the door’s flat surface.