The Presence

by Shady Grim

  “You’re talking about people who’ve been clinically dead for minutes, not for hundreds of years. There isn’t even a body to work with.”

  “They’ll use a new one,” said Tim.

  “You don’t actually believe this stuff, do you?”

  “My personal beliefs are irrelevant. What we’re doing here is trying to understand their motivations. Let me give you an example; if I want to hunt a deer, I need to know what a deer looks like, where it lives, what it eats, and what it does. If I don’t know these things, I can’t successfully catch a deer.”

  “That actually makes sense to me.”

  “Yeh speak ‘er language, Tim.”

  “Why all of this symbolism, and ritual, and fighting?” I said.

  “Why not?”

  “That’s not an answer, Tim.”

  “That’s because there isn’t one.”

  “Why now? What brought all of this about,” I said, “a twinkling star, a crow flying backwards?”

  “The four of us together in the right place made it the right time,” replied Tim.

  “What are we waitin’ for? Let’s stop this shit.”

  “Nightfall, we need cover.”

  “We won’t be able to see anythin’.”

  “Your eyes will adjust,” said Tim. “You two have to swim over to the other side of the lake. The dock is facing due north; use it to keep your bearings. Yew trees symbolize regeneration and immortality, so that will most likely be the fourth scared tree. The fourth offering will be placed near it.”

  “Do you really think that Ethan and I can identify a yew tree–in the dark?”

  “It has to be this way. The two of you together are no match for Herbert Fitzgerald. He needs to be taken care of first.”

  “You’ve been making a lot of references to the Fitzgeralds,” I said. “How do you know them so well?”

  “They raised me.”

  “Those nut-bags are yer parents?” blurted Ethan. I shushed him.

  “My adoptive parents, yes.”

  “So your name is actually Royal,” I said.

  “It was, now it’s Tim.”

  “I would’ve changed it too, buddy,” said Ethan. “Royal’s a shitty name.”

  “I read in the newspaper that you were killed.”

  “They certainly tried,” said Tim, pointing to the scar on his neck.

  “Yeh poor bastard! And I thought my parents were assholes.” Two gunshots rang out far in the distance. My hand instinctively grasped Ethan’s as my thoughts travelled to the children. “Hunters maybe?” He wasn’t really asking a question, but trying to console both me and himself.

  “It isn’t deer season,” said Tim, which bolstered our fears.

  “Woah! Did yeh hear that?” blurted Ethan. I turned toward the direction of a howling screech, which to me didn’t sound like it came from an animal.

  “Yes,” said Tim urgently. “It’s Herbert, we have to go.”

  Tim rose, but remained in a low crouch. I did the same. Ethan had just managed to get onto one knee when one of the shadow-beasts grabbed his leg. The rest of the pack closed in and dragged him away, kicking and screaming. It happened so quickly that even Tim’s preternaturally fast reflexes weren’t quick enough to grab Ethan’s arm. Tim immediately made chase, and I followed behind. I was running as fast as I could, but I simply wasn’t fast enough to keep up with them. I was so focused on not losing sight of Tim that I didn’t see Herbert, and didn’t know what had hit me. I was sidelined by what felt to me like a locomotive. I was slammed so hard into a tree that I was dazed and the breath was knocked out of me. My left shoulder took the brunt of the force, and I was so deeply bruised that I had difficulty moving my left arm. As my blurred vision began to clear, I saw Tim standing in front of me. His hands were outstretched for Herbert to see that nothing was in them. I could hear Ethan screaming in the distance and tried to break free of Herbert by slapping his genitals with my free hand. I realized then that he held a sharp knife to my throat as he pressed it a little harder against my skin.

  “Don’t struggle, Heather,” said Tim and I stopped resisting. Herbert nuzzled and sniffed my hair, and I couldn’t help but cringe. “Don’t do it, Herbert.” Tim’s tone was neither angry nor fearful. His voice was calm and even. He spoke as if he were discussing the weather or current news. “If you kill any of us, Lizbet’s ritual won’t work. She will fail. All of her hopes and dreams will be ruined. The Lord will be very displeased, and it will all be your fault.” It seemed to take an eternity for Herbert to make up his mind. Ethan stopped screaming, the shadow-beasts stopped howling, and my heart sank.

  “Give me the bag,” said Herbert. Tim slowly slid his satchel off his shoulder and handed it to Herbert. All I could think of was Ethan. I fought back tears as Herbert removed my backpack. Herbert thought the tears were from the pain he was causing me, and he smiled. Tim cleared his throat to draw Herbert’s attention. “Empty your pockets.”

  “We don’t have time,” replied Tim. “Ethan might still be alive. If we get to him in time, we can save his life, and Lizbet’s honor.” Herbert was too focused on me to think clearly. Everything sounded reasonable to his muddled mind. He pushed me toward Tim, who took my hand and broke into a run. Herbert jogged closely behind us. I don’t know what trail Tim was following. He was running so fast that I couldn’t make anything out. The heavy breathing and the pounding of the heavy booted footsteps behind me made me feel like a ten-year-old again. My nose suddenly picked up the strong scent of cedar. Tim slowed. Ahead of him, in a small circular clearing, lay Ethan. A man with long white hair knelt next to him. The man’s head turned in my direction, and he vanished. A neat pile of green leaves lay where the man had been, and Tim went straight for them.

  “Hey, Herbie, I told yeh I’d get out of it.”

  “I need my medicine bag.”

  “And I need my satchel.”

  Herbert threw my backpack at me. He rummaged through Tim’s satchel and removed his hunting knife. He threw the satchel at Tim, who knelt as he opened it. Herbert was fixated on me, and didn’t notice that the pile of leaves Tim scooped up hadn’t come out of his satchel.

  “These will slow the bleeding.”

  I recognized the leaves as they were the same as the ones Tim had me hold against Ethan’s neck. I used a flashlight I’d retrieved from my bag to look Ethan over, and I wasn’t sure where to start. There was so much blood that I couldn’t tell which wounds were the worst. Ethan’s pants were in tatters, and the skin beneath them shredded. He had deep bite wounds on his arms. Tim began by removing Ethan’s pants from the knees down. I took out a bottle of morphine and a syringe.

  “What’s that?” said Ethan.

  “Morphine.”

  “No, don’t gimme that. It’ll knock me out.”

  “That’s the idea,” I said.

  “No!”

  “You need painkillers, Ethan! You’ll go into shock without them!”

  “I wanna stay awake!”

  “The other painkillers I have aren’t strong enough.”

  “I have something,” said Tim. “It’s strong, but not as potent as morphine.”

  “Okay,” said Ethan. “I’ll take it.” I replaced the bottle of morphine with an antibiotic, and found a place on Ethan’s arm to insert the syringe.

  Tim picked up a dark-brown glass vial and tipped it into Ethan’s mouth. “Give it a minute or two to kick in.”

  “Ugh! Tastes like hell,” said Ethan.

  “Some of these need to be stitched,” I said.

  “That’ll take too long,” said Herbert. “Just wrap him up.”

  Tim and I patched the ragged wounds and punctures as well as we could with the leaves. All four of us were startled when more gunshots rang out in quick succession. I counted eight, nearly an entire pistol clip of rounds. The fact that Herbert was as surprised as we were gave me confidence that the gunfire wasn’t related to any of us. Illegal target practice wasn’t an uncommon occur
rence. We were nearly finished with Ethan’s legs when we ran out of bandages. Tim removed his shirt and cut it into strips.

  “Eww, I don’t want yer dirty shirt,” grinned Ethan.

  “I showered,” replied Tim.

  As Tim and I were bent over Ethan’s body, feverishly trying to stop the bleeding, we heard the voice of a man speak to us.

  “Herbert can’t see or hear me. Pretend not to notice me.”

  I have to admit that Tim was a much better actor than me. He appeared not to notice anything out of the ordinary, whereas I kept glancing around to see the voice’s source. What I saw astounded me. Small humanoid figures, about two feet tall and half obscured by foliage, surrounded us. The man who was speaking knelt down in front of me and blocked my vision, startling me a bit.

  “What?” said Herbert. “What do you see?”

  “I thought I saw...uh...a bug. I don’t like bugs.”

  Herbert frowned; he was suspicious. But Herbert knew that most women didn’t like bugs, so what I said sounded acceptable to him. He moved to where my eyes had been and carefully inspected the area.

  “You’re not a very good liar,” whispered Tim.

  “I coulda told yeh that.”

  I ignored them. My eyes were still fixated on the man kneeling before me. He was the same man I’d seen next to Ethan. He looked very much alive, but there was something about him that told me otherwise; something unrelated to the fact that Hebert could neither see nor hear him. The man’s skin was tanned from spending much time in the sun. His hair was long and white, and he wore buckskin.

  “You can see them,” said the man. “It’s best not to look directly at them. They don’t like that. They like the strawberries you planted, so they’re keeping the dark spirits away from you.”

  I checked Ethan’s feet and ankles. His boots were new and thick, and although they were riddled with holes, the shadow-beasts’ teeth didn’t penetrate to the skin. Herbert’s eyes were on me again. I took longer than I needed to check Ethan’s ankles so the man could continue to speak to me. Tim fussed at Ethan’s back.

  “Herbert will take you home,” said the man, “which is where you need to be. The fourth will find you there. Beware the dark spirit that you call The Presence. It has grown strong.” The man reached out and placed his hand on my arm. His hand felt warm, and his grip was strong. I could feel the calluses on his fingers. “You are not alone. Many of us have come. You won’t see us, but we will be there.”

  “Get up,” said Herbert, and the man vanished again.

  “He can’t walk,” I said. “His wounds will open.”

  “He either walks, or you two drag him.”

  “I’ll carry him,” said Tim.

  “Yer a pygmy,” said Ethan. “Yer too scrawny to lift–” Ethan was hoisted up and lay across Tim’s shoulders before he could finish speaking. Once the pain of being moved settled down, he spoke again. “Damn dude! Yeh must work out a lot.”

  I picked up my pack and Tim’s satchel. Herbert’s eyes looked dark and unfixed as he stared at me. He licked his lips, and gripped the handle of his hunting knife.

  “Heather!” shouted Tim. I was startled and turned to him, but he was looking at Herbert, not me. Herbert jumped too, and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before taking the bags from me. “Walk in front of me.”

  “It’s too dark. I don’t know where I’m going.”

  “Go straight ahead,” said Tim. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  “We’ll be right behind you,” corrected Ethan.

  We were marched back to the house, and settled in the grass a little distance from the tree line that was parallel to the back door. For some reason, Lizbet didn’t want us near the front door. She’d just finished wrapping a bandage around Persephone’s hand.

  “Herbert, I’m so proud of you! I knew you could do it!” Herbert beamed. He lived to please Lizbet.

  I helped Tim ease Ethan to the ground. He was shivering. “He needs a blanket and some water.” Lizbet looked Ethan over and ordered Shelly to bring him a blanket and as much water as he wanted. Herbert proceeded to tie Tim’s hands behind his back. My hands were tied in front so I could give Ethan a drink. Tim and I were sat back to back, and Herbert tied us together by wrapping a rope around our torsos. Then he pulled Tim’s shoes off and took his hunting knife out of its sheath.

  “This is so you don’t run off again.” Herbert grinned as he ran the blade of his knife up the sole of Tim’s foot. I felt Tim stiffen, but he didn’t make a sound. Herbert was disappointed. He liked to hear the sounds that pain produced. He jabbed the point of his knife into Tim’s other foot before slicing into it. Tim’s body jerked, but he remained silent.

  “Enough, Herbert!” said Lizbet. “It’s not time yet.”

  “Why are you doing this, Mrs. Fitzgerald?” She ignored me and focused her attention on Tim.

  “Hello, Mother, it’s been a long time hasn’t it?” Tim’s voice displayed no anger, or pain, or fear. I’m certain the man would be a formidable poker player.

  “Royal, you’re filthy. I did not raise my sons to be slobs.”

  “What did you raise me to be?”

  “You could’ve been something, boy. You were so bright, not like your useless brothers. You have no idea the kind of power you could’ve had.”

  “You would never have allowed that. You just wanted me because it was the only way for you to get into that house.”

  “Obviously not the only way,” said Lizbet. “This place has been empty for so long that it’s become weak. All I had to do was get those two idiots to let in that nasty little germ, the one cowering in the kitchen, before they repaired too much of the house. They welcomed her with open arms and the seed was sown. All that’s left to do is perform the desecration and this house will wither.”

  “Yer too late, yeh old bitch. That house is alive.”

  Lizbet poked Ethan’s leg with her stick, making him cry out. “It’s weak, just like you, and I will bring it down.” Lizbet looked back to Tim with great disappointment in her eyes. “You could’ve been a part of this, boy, but you’re too soft. You’re a coward. I thought I could make you strong, but you’re weak like your mother and father. That’s why I had to get rid of you. You were becoming a liability with that blasted conscience of yours. But you fooled me, didn’t you, boy? You’re not so placid when it comes to your own skin, are you? I thought for sure you bled to death, that’s why Herbert didn’t bother to dispose of you properly.” In a softer more distant tone she said, “I shouldn’t have taught you so much about herbal medicine. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  “You murder innocent people and you call me a coward?”

  “This is war, boy. War!” she shouted angrily.

  “Well, I guess we just chose different sides then.”

  Lizbet turned and called to Jim and Persephone. Jim exited from the kitchen. Persephone was in her car, listening to music. She emerged from her car and slammed the door in a fit. She clearly felt pestered until she heard me pleading with Lizbet.

  “Please, Mrs. Fitzgerald,” I said. “We can talk about this. We can sort things out.”

  Jim and Persephone were tasked with watching us while Lizbet went back to the dock. Herbert joined her. She was obsessed with that dock, and I couldn’t figure out why. Tim most likely knew what Lizbet was fixating on, but I couldn’t speak to him because Jim and Persephone would hear us.

  “Is that brave Heather pleading for her life?”

  “Shut up, Rae!” shouted Ethan.

  “My name is Persephone!” Persephone paced around Ethan and I and ignored Tim altogether. She entertained herself by shining her flashlight in our eyes. It was tiresome and juvenile, but it gave me an opportunity to clearly see Ethan’s face. He was pale and a bit greyish. He’d lost a great deal of blood, and was in desperate need of proper emergency medical treatment.

  “Whatever yeh say, Rae.”

  Persephone threw her flashlight on the groun
d in a fit and broke it. She thrust her un-bandaged hand into her trouser pocket and pulled out a gold lighter. She knelt in front of me and stared into my eyes. This time her confidence didn’t fail her. She flicked the lighter’s lid open and closed while she taunted me. “Little miss perfect, always the smartest, always the prettiest, always the best.”

  “Tell us somethin’ we don’t already know, Rae,” said Ethan.

  “And her oafish sidekick,” said Persephone as she held the lighter’s flame to Ethan’s ear. He slapped her hand away, and Persephone jumped. “Why aren’t you tied?”

  “He’s too injured, Rachel.”

  “Stop calling me, Rachel! My name is Persephone!”

  “Yeh’ll always be crazy little Rachel to us.”

  “Put your hands out, Heather!”

  “I can’t. They’re tied together.”

  Predictable Persephone, in her blind rage, did me the courtesy of untying my hands. The bindings fell into my lap. She repeated her last instruction. I knew what she going to do. I extended my hands palms down. Persephone held the lit flame to my palms. I tried to be quiet, but wasn’t successful. I greatly envied Tim’s ability to hide pain. Tears welled up in my eyes and streamed down my face, but I defiantly held her gaze.

  “What’s my name?”

  “Persephone,” I replied.

  “Louder.”

  “Persephone,” I shouted, and both Ethan and Tim joined me.

  “And don’t forget it,” said Persephone. She pulled the lighter away from my hands, but didn’t close the lid. She was watching the little flame flicker and flutter. Without warning, she thrust her hand out and set my hair alight. I grabbed Ethan’s glass of water and splashed it on myself, but it didn’t put all of the flames out. Persephone giggled.

  Jim was admiring the rifles propped against the house. He chose the Ruger I’d been carrying and slung it over his shoulder. He heard Persephone giggling and ran over to pat the flames out of my hair.

  “Go sit in the car, you dizzy bitch!”

  Persephone rose and waggled her fingers at me. “See you in a bit, Heather.” She went back to her car and turned the radio up very loud. The light from her cell phone illuminated her sharp features as she became engrossed in a game.