You guessed it; the meteorite that started all this had come to ground. It seemed to burn its way into Irwin’s head too. He couldn’t stop thinking about it and imagined it was full of gold. Naturally, he wanted to get his hands on it.
Several weeks later, a stranger called Jack Logan arrived at the Fort. The rumour was he’d come from the north-west. Irwin tried to get talking to him but Logan kept to himself. Then one day, Irwin heard from the storekeeper that Logan was leaving the next morning. Thomas Irwin needed to act fast.
He left his hut after dark and went to Logan’s shack, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. Logan eventually let him in and reluctantly agreed to ‘unburden’ himself and share his story. A mighty strange story it was.
According to Logan, several months earlier he’d taken a younger man called Edgar Vernon, only a year older than me, trapping with him. Edgar turned out to be the bee’s knees, as my dad would say, and they became good friends. Maybe more than just friends, if I’m reading between the lines correctly. Anyway, one night outside their cosy cabin way up river, Edgar and Logan saw the meteor when it arrived.
He described the moment vividly. ‘Edgar couldn’t take his eyes off it and neither could I. For an awful few seconds it seemed to be coming right at us. Then, with a loud booming sound like rolling thunder, it shot from the sky and came to ground somewhere across the river. The earth shook and trembled beneath my feet and flames lit up the forest where the meteorite landed.’
Logan had a bad premonition and wanted to leave the meteorite alone but Edgar couldn’t get it out of his head. It seemed to have that effect on people. Despite Logan telling him not to, a few days later Edgar disappeared and Logan knew his young partner had gone looking for the rock. After a sleepless night, Logan went after Edgar.
He canoed across the river and followed Edgar’s trail. There he found a ‘corridor of devastation’ above his head, which could only have been caused by one thing, and followed it to where it ended. In a shadowy depression where ‘no birds sang and not an animal stirred,’ the meteorite lay partly buried.
‘It was enormous, dark and round. My breath caught in my throat and my hands clenched into fists as I approached it.’ Logan found Edgar there too. ‘In gloomy undergrowth, two booted feet stuck out from a clump of ferns. I rushed over and found the prone figure of poor Edgar, lying there as if he’d been thrown down by some malignant giant. His grimy, sweat soaked face was pale as death and for a moment I thought he was gone. Then he slowly opened his eyes and a small smile appeared at the corners of his mouth when he recognised me. It was short lived.’
With his last breath, Edgar warned Logan, “Don’t go near it Jack. For God’s sake, don’t go near it.”
Despite this sage advice, Logan stared at the massive rock and fell under its spell. Where had I seen that happen before! He claimed ‘there was an almost magnetic attraction about the thing. I had to get closer, get right up to it. Under the spell of the rock, Edgar’s last request no longer mattered to me. Inexorably, the meteor drew me to itself.’
Then the story got even creepier and relevant at the same time. What was happening to us now in Wheeler’s house had happened back then too.
Logan got up and walked toward the rock, obeying ‘a distant, toneless voice’ in his head telling him to come closer. When he was less than a dozen feet from it he began to feel his arms and legs grow heavy as lead. He wanted more than anything to get right up to ‘the pockmarked stone’ and touch ‘the golden rivulets roaming across its surface. They shone even brighter now, pulsing and alive. I reached out to explore, embrace.’
I swallowed hard as I read this. It was exactly what had happened to Saunders.
Logan was luckier. At the very moment he reached out, a grizzly bear ran out of a dense thicket and charged at him. From what I can figure out, that’s usually fatal, but it saved Logan’s life. The animal knocked him over, dragged him away from the rock, and dumped him on the ground. Then it disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.
Logan knew now that he had to resist whatever kind of strange attraction the rock possessed, and ran for his life. He didn’t stop till he was all the way back at his canoe, paddled frantically across the water and collapsed exhausted in front of his cabin.
That’s the story Logan told Thomas Irwin, who only half believed it. But Irwin had seen the meteor overhead himself, and Logan’s description of ‘gold veins’ running all through it made dollar signs appear in front of Irwin’s eyes. The clincher was when Logan, ‘reached behind him, pulled out a cloth bundle and unwrapped it, revealing a sharp piece of rock; black with bright golden veins. It was a piece of meteorite that he had picked up from the grass and brought back in his haversack. It was heavy, metallic. The veins looked like gold or some kind of natural gold alloy. Logan smiled grimly.’
End result? Logan gave Thomas a map and instructions to find the rock. In return Irwin promised to bury Edgar Vernon’s remains. In addition, Logan made Irwin swear one other thing, namely that he would ‘dynamite that rock and blow it to kingdom come,’ to which Irwin gladly agreed. After all, to extract the gold, the meteorite will have to be dynamited anyway.
Thomas left Logan’s place determined to go and explore the rock. He figured that guilt and loneliness had driven Logan crazy, and it was most likely the bear that had killed Edgar Vernon. In other words, he rationalised the whole thing and saw a lot of dollar signs in front of his eyes.
I figured that might not work out too well.
Chapter Fourteen
I closed the book, rubbed my eyes and stared around the room. The shadows around me were now pitch black. Despite the old fashioned writing style, I’d become so engrossed in Tom Irwin’s story that I’d forgotten I was in a solitary, maybe dangerous situation. Outside the pool of yellowish light where I sat, everything was still as it had been, nothing moved at the windows.
So what had made me look up?
I slipped the thin volume back into the leg pocket in my shorts and stood up. I’d finish it later, or tomorrow. There was something not right about the room, something I couldn’t figure out. My ears strained for the slightest sound but there was none. Then what else was there? Whatever it was, it was making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t see far into the shadows in the corners of the room, and now regretted switching off the main lights. They had seemed unnecessary at the time and flicking them off was what I’d have done at home. But in this vast living room the little brass lamp beside me barely extended more than a dozen feet into the surrounding darkness.
I looked at the lamp under its ornate lightshade to check if it could be angled any better. It couldn’t, and now I’d stupidly ruined my night sight. Beyond the security of my tiny island of light everything was impenetrable black.
The solution was very simple; walk over to the wall switch and flick on the ceiling lights. Five seconds would do it. But now that switch seemed miles away. I stood frozen to the spot.
Someone was watching me. I had no idea who they were or where they were, but they were watching me, I’d have bet my life on it. I knew it was happening and felt exposed, vulnerable, a target in plain sight ready to become a victim. If only I could hide.
The one response I had available was to switch off the table light. The thought of doing that was terrifying but at least it would take me out of this paralysing spotlight. I could run and hide, get out of the room, get help. I closed my eyes for a second, whispered a one sentence prayer, made up my mind and chose the lesser of two evils, maybe.
I stretched out my arm and closed my hand around the little chain hanging under the lampshade. My legs tensed and tightness filled my chest. I tugged out the light.
Absolute blackness surrounded me. What the hell had I just done? I flung myself forward and stumbled into a staggering, swaying run. Must not hit my head again. My knees connected with one of the low coffee tables – solid wood like everything else in this damn
place – and I fell forward, just getting my arms up in time or else I’d have lost some teeth. My elbows clattered into the tabletop and there was more pain.
I rolled off the table and crawled across the floor with no idea where I was going. My sole goal in life was to get to the light switch on the wall by the door. Every piece of furniture I bumped into was some deadly trap laid for me and I dreaded the thick arms that would reach out and grab me. My own arms flailed in front of me in blind panic and I pushed and shoved chairs, tables, and stools out of my way.
By sheer luck I got to the far wall, felt a doorframe in front of me and stood up. The switch should be on my left, about chest height. My fingers frantically fumbled. I expected a vise grip on my shoulder any moment. More fumbling, fumbling. Where is the blasted thing?
My hand moved over the tiny plastic lever and the room was flooded with light, beautiful, beautiful light.
I turned around, darting my eyes left and right. Now I could see everything. And there was nothing there, nothing threatening, and no-one other than myself.
Slowly my chest stopped heaving and my breathing returned to normal. I was being a total fool. What a baby, afraid of the dark. I walked back to the middle of the room, straightening furniture as I went. My mouth was bone dry and I took a bottle of water from the little fridge behind the bar counter and glugged it eagerly down my parched throat.
Nobody was ever going to know about this, not even Nora.
I binned the empty bottle and, still feeling a bit dazed, made for my green leather chair. I passed the big main window that ran from floor to ceiling and something made me stop in front of it. The curtains were partly pulled back, leaving a gap in the middle broad enough for me to feel completely exposed. I couldn’t see a thing, of course, everything on the other side of the window pane was jet black and formless.
But anything out there could see me. Something odd was going on in my head; I couldn’t figure out why I was standing here when I didn’t want to be. I tried to move away to the side but couldn’t budge. All I could do was stare at the black pane and listen, but the glass was too thick and soundproof for any animal howl or screech to get through. A big ball of fear expanded inside me then it shrank again, like a hand had reached into my chest and squashed it flat. If only I could get my legs to move.
I leaned closer still and tried to see outside, until the tip of my nose touched the cold glass. The air around me seemed to thicken and I found it hard to breathe. Something was about to happen, and I wanted to scream but couldn’t. The silence remained absolute while my heart pounded in my chest. With a supreme effort of will I slowly moved one leg to turn away.
A pale face appeared on the other side of the glass, barely an inch away from my own.
Instinctively, I jumped back. Both my legs were ‘pins and needles’ dead and crumpled underneath me. I tumbled backwards and my back hit hard wooden floorboards with a numbing thump. I lay there, my eyes still fixed on the terrible face in the window. A familiar female face, her eyes fixed on me. It was Abby Mackie’s face.
Then she spoke.
“Nick, come out and get me, I need you to help me to get inside.”
Her lips hadn’t moved, and I wouldn’t have been able to hear her through the glass anyway. Yet the words sounded clearly in my tingling head. Something icy cold was inside my skull, a hard ball I didn’t want there. I tried to probe it the way your tongue keeps going to a sore tooth. Was it Abby in my brain? Was she trying to control me?
The hard fist grew in my skull then opened like fingers flexing. Tendrils extended, elongated, invaded, and prised into the byways of my brain. I could feel it happening, but I couldn’t stop it. With every second that passed I wanted less and less to resist.
I slowly got up and stepped toward the window again, my eyes locked on hers. Her voice came again. “Go to the front door, Nick, I’ll come for you there.”
Again, she spoke straight into my head. Her instructions were totally compelling, and it was impossible not to obey her. I went to the door, slipped out of the room and walked down the hallway.
“Unlock it now,” I heard in my brain as soon as I got to the door.
Without even hesitating I undid the lock, turned back the latch and pulled the heavy door toward me. Cool night air wafted over my sweating face. I expected to see her standing there but instead it was Sanders who came out of the darkness. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me outside.
“Wait,” I protested, “Where’s Abby?”
Sanders shook his head. Or did he? I sensed it rather than saw it. “Make as little noise as possible. The others must not be woken.”
I pulled the door shut behind me and followed Sanders around to the side of the house.
“Where are we going?” I asked him. I was only able to get the words out with great difficulty. My mouth seemed to have clogged up.
Sanders didn’t stop or turn around. “We are going to Abby, she is waiting for you. Now be quiet.”
Something tightened inside my head and knew I couldn’t speak again. Sanders wasn’t allowing it.
We rounded the corner to the back of the house and I saw Abby Mackie standing near the back door. Where was Georgia? Maybe she was their backup. These two alone were enough to make me permanently one of their group. I had only a few seconds left.
I wanted to resist but the hard fingers in my brain gripped too tightly. We passed a big mound of logs and old wooden boards that Peterman must have stacked for burning in the winter months. As I passed it I managed to stick my arm out and knock a few plywood boards off the top. They clattered down and fell on the ground at my feet, between Sanders and me. Sharp pain filled my head and I heard Sanders’ instant command for silence.
A sharp pain in my foot stopped me and I let out an involuntary grunt. I looked down and saw that I’d stepped on one of the pieces of wood. An upright nail must have pushed through the thin sole of my runner.
The fingers in my head momentarily lost their grip. I was free, at least for a few seconds. Adrenalin surged through my body. It was fight or flight, it was now or never.
I pulled the piece of wood off my foot, turned, and ran for my life.
* * *
I ignored the weird feeling in my foot and ran as fast as I could around the side of the house, back the way I’d come. If I hammered on the front door someone would let me in before Sanders could get me. I slipped on the longer grass at the first corner and nearly twisted my ankle. Fear got me back on my feet and I staggered around to the front of the house. My hopes rose as I reached the second bend.
I turned the corner and Georgia Benton stood directly in front of me, stopping me in my tracks.
Too late, I tried to shout for help. Someone inside would hear. The fingers slid back into my mind and silenced my open mouth. The moonlight was brighter here at the front of the house, and I studied Georgia’s face, so completely perfect, her eyes drawing me like magnets. Her calm, persuasive voice spoke clearly in my head.
“Nick, come close to me.”
I tried to resist, God knows I did. It wasn’t just the mind lock these people had on me, though that was bad enough. I’d broken free of it back behind the house and if I’d immediately ducked away from Georgia and ran off, I might have remained free of their influence. But, well, it was Georgia and I thought maybe I could rescue her from them. It sounds so stupid now. She let me speak.
“Georgia, I’ll help you get back to normal again.” At the same time as I said it, I struggled to push back the unseen force tightening its grip behind my eyes. If I could slow it down, keep a little of my free will back.
Before I could even focus, a great wave of pressure swept over my thoughts and took control of them. My will to resist dissolved. Whatever was inside me was far too strong to resist.
I stared into Georgia’s eyes, so clear and brown and beautiful and inviting.
“Nick, come here and hold me.”
It was what I’d fantasised about and it was really happening r
ight at this moment. Her soft voice was magnetic in my head. I’d wanted this so badly and now she wanted it too.
There was something else deep down inside me, that I wasn’t being allowed to focus on, that was screaming a message at me. What was it? I screwed up my eyes in concentration. Some kind of warning to run away? If only I could amplify it, hear it properly.
“Nick, stop resisting.” Georgia’s voice was a little harsher now. “Watch me closely.”
My eyes immediately went to her and I looked her up and down. She was wearing what the girls call Daisy Dukes, plus a tight t-shirt and a pair of canvas shoes with no laces. Her hands moved down to the bottom edge of her t-shirt and she lifted it over her head. She dropped the thin material on the ground and began caressing her naked upper body. Moonlight gleamed on her white creamy skin, the random tiny brown spots on her taught tummy only adding to her perfection. My heart stopped beating.
I couldn’t look away and I didn’t want to anymore. Georgia was achingly desirable, and I wanted her more than anything else in the world. She stepped forward, wrapped her arms around me, and pressed against my chest. My body reacted predictably. She had to know I craved her.
“Touch me, Nick, I know you want to. Touch me anywhere.”
Spellbound, I reached up and caressed her gleaming shoulder. Her fingers interlocked with mine and she moved my hand to her breast. I felt her hard nipple press into my palm. My other hand went around her narrow waist, caressed the hollow in the small of her back. She looked up into my eyes and I stood completely transfixed, my desire total and immediate. I was hers, and she was going to be mine.
“Come with me now, Nick, we’ll finish this later.”
What? No, this can’t be. One thing and one thing only had to happen, right here, right now. Fingers tightened their grip and this time they were mine.
“Here, now, on the grass,” I screamed inside my head, knowing she’d hear.
Uninvited Page 13
