by Ira Robinson
The three humans braced themselves as the bugs swiftly descended upon them, but even Bart, with his large frame and strength, was bowled over by the ferocity of the large creatures, each vying for a place on his body that was exposed. Their legs and maws began to grind against the skin, seeking a way to bury their stingers into the flesh.
Sam slapped as many as she could but, as she did, she could see Tamara had it much worse - the bulk of the things were going after her.
The girl carried on chanting, her arms outstretched toward the barrier spell she was maintaining, giving her attackers free reign to dig themselves in. Dozens - hundreds - dove in and out of her eyes and ears, covering her hair with their bodies. The ritual words were hissed out of gritted teeth so they would not gain access to her mouth and get into her throat.
For all her fighting against the mass striking against her, she was faltering. A step back, then two, as more bugs found purchase against her lips and hung off of them. She shut her eyes tightly so they could not get in, but each was determined to taste her sensitive flesh.
The heat in Sam's hand diminished, as well, and she quickly wrapped rope around her wrist, hoping it would help her keep hold of the silver pendant. The creatures careened into her, each one slamming into her over and again like a bullet. She tried to keep them off of herself, but it was futile.
The terrifying laugh of the revenant came once more and Sam's blood chilled in her veins.
He put his hand against the invisible barrier and there was no flash, no push back from his presence.
"It's breaking!" Sam screamed, knowing Tamara was failing to keep it going. But what could the poor girl do about the heavy onslaught she was enduring?
A moment later, the rest of him came through.
A loud zsssttt hit her ears as the revenant tore through the barricade, small bits of rotted flesh drifting away from his body without any indication he felt it. They fell to the ground, instantly turning the grass there black as the essence of his decay filtered into the living things.
A heartbeat later, he pounced from the bone circle and slammed into her. She folded beneath him, crushed into the ground with the force of his weight. She barely kept hold of the necklace, the rope wrapped around her wrist giving her just enough ability to keep the pendant in her palm.
The breath huffed out of her with a rush, aching in her chest flaring when she tried to gasp in a new one. His hands pinned her down as her mouth opened. He brought his face down to within inches of her own to match. A vile dark fluid drooled away, seeping past his teeth.
She closed it again just before it touched her skin, but it did not matter. The goo covered it and filled her nostrils with a humid, dirty scent. The breath she managed to take came out again in a rush of wracked nausea.
Sam instinctively inhaled and, with it, a small bit of the sludge was sucked into her nostril. It choked her again as the hands of the revenant sought greater purchase against her flailing limbs.
A loud crash echoed from everywhere but she could not look. Her eyes squinted against the bright light of the sky silhouetting the image of her father. She could not breathe, could not force him away from herself.
The thunderous clap resounded again and, this time, her father rocked backward. Recognition of the sound of a gun finally registered in her reeling brain.
The pressure on her arms released as the revenant came to his feet again, staring around himself to find the source of the bullet that struck him. Sam coughed, clearing her throat of the tar that slid from the mouth of her father to her face and used her free hand to wipe some of it off.
She spat what she could to the ground and rolled herself over, pushing away from the grass to get to her feet. She stayed standing, though her legs were unstable, but a moment later, after a deep breath that cleansed out her mind, they stilled beneath her.
She spared a glance to see Bart across a dozen yards, still fighting through the bugs that were attacking him. The gun was outstretched in his hand, small tufts of smoke coming from the barrel.
"Get it back!" Tamara shouted, her hands raised up in the ritual position. The glow around them was still there, though obscured by the morass of insects clinging to them.
Sam's eyes lit on the revenant and, gritting her teeth once again, she ran at the large figure with her own arms in front of her.
Touching him was foul. Clutching the necklace, she buried into the rotted skin surrounding the top part of his frame, her fingers flaring with anguish as she reached the bone beneath. It was like sinking into acid, but, though the intensity of it was too much to bear, she shoved with everything she had.
Her feet pushed against the ground a step, then another as she managed to get him to move. Maybe it was the distraction from the gun, or the surprise that she would fight back against him that made the creature lose his balance, but the thing moved.
His own feet were the first part to re-enter the barrier and, as he did, the necklace flared with a new intensity. She screamed as it suffused not just her hand, but flowed down into her wrist and forearm. Every inch of her burned as the twisted beast was pushed back.
Electric crackles and pops sparked along his large body and his mouth opened wide in another shout, the polluted breath washing over her face. She squinted her eyes again and held her own, using the force of her torso to shove.
Sam's hands passed through the barrier spell and the heat and pain within her arm fled, draining through her fingertips. The howl the revenant made grew higher pitched and the embers heightened from red to orange and back. She pushed again and saw the light in the hollows dim.
The energy seemed to leak away from the horror and the intensity of the fear and revulsion trying to control her went with it.
She was able to get him closer to the center of the circle before whatever vitality the barrier lent her began to falter.
Though she kept him locked in place, she felt the revenant beginning to push back again and perceived she could not do it for long. Her strength was flagging with every passing moment.
Her eyes were on his own festering ember, the bone and flesh around the holes shifting with the struggle against her.
He grabbed her arms anew with the claws and dug into her, shredding through the clothing easily. Her head bent back and she screamed as the foulness entered her body and, for a moment, lost her grip on him.
Her hands pulled away from his shoulders and she raised them up, grasping the soft tissues of his throat. Her right hand glowed a fiery red as the necklace touched him again.
Growling and slavering, the creature let go of her arms and reached out for her own throat. He gripped her and, for a moment, her hold on him loosened. The pressure of his touch instantly dizzied her and she sucked in as deep of a breath as she could before he closed off her ability to get another.
She used her hands to thrust against him, breaking free as she stepped backward. Her eyes wide, she looked around for anything she could use to keep him at bay.
Tamara was nearer to the circle than she had been, flailing as the insects tore into her at will, and Bart was using his own body to try to fling as many of them away from her as he could. He, too, was covered but seemed better off in that moment.
Sam's mind locked on the scene, as she turned back to the beast and she knew it was over.
The revenant had them and would not let this end. He would destroy them here and move on.
All of this was useless. The pain, the endless fear and heartbreak, would be for nothing.
He stepped to her again, a grin on the skeletal face as he readied himself for her destruction.
His shadow overcame her, blocking away the blue sky as he towered above her. He stretched himself to his full form, until he was only inches from her own tired, drained body.
She scowled as a thought crossed her mind.
Taking a deep breath, she screamed, "Bart! The hat!"
Her father grabbed her again and leaned his face into hers. His mouth touched her own, the t
eeth scraping against her lips.
Nausea and foulness crawling inside of her came through her again as black smoke poured from her body into that of the revenant.
From the corner of her eye, she saw movement as Bart crossed the distance to the edge of the circle and threw the hat from his head into the invisible barrier.
When it touched the ground near her feet, the bright flash of light and explosion hurled her backward, rocked by the power instantly.
The revenant screamed as darkness enveloped her.
Chapter 36
"What the -?"
The bass voice of Bart cut through the dark haze, stirring her into consciousness. Sam blinked a few times, but the blur did not go away.
She was on her back, the hardness of it pressing into the aching of her body. Every nerve screamed, all parts of her crying out against the abuse she put them through. Her lips parted and she sucked in a deeper breath, which helped clear some of the haze from her vision and, a few seconds later, she took another, gritting her teeth together as she forced a roll.
The strong current of wind that had been blowing was no more, replaced by a gentler caress against her skin, the simplest kiss on her exposed and abused limbs. It carried with it a rush of sound, high frequency droning as the multitudes of insects were pushed away by a force she could not see.
The great wave of power drove them from where the three humans remained, stunned by the sudden release of the magic the revenant held over the onslaught.
Sam turned her head to the circle. Bart and Tamara were close to one another, with the girl still chanting softly a few feet from him. His eyes were wide with shock, staring at the figure of the man trapped within the bounds of the magic she channeled.
Her own eyes pinned to him, as well, unable to look away once they came into focus. She shifted herself as best as she could, the aching ignored. She climbed to her feet, wobbling uncertainly, and did not fall back down again, in spite of her weakness.
One hand against the invisible barrier, the being in the circle stood close to the edge. He was tall, more than Sam, and looked a great deal like Bart. There was no missing flesh on him, no skeletal smile, and his clothing was new. No claw touched the wall, only the palm of a man who had done much work in his life. Giant, strong, and gentle hands.
Sam took a hesitant step forward, her feet sliding more than lifting. His body, though large and sure, seemed to be not fully there,; the grass beyond his form could not be seen, but the light filtered through, making his slight transparency more prominent.
That did nothing to hide the tears in his eyes. Those reflected the brightness of the sky above, glimmering even as they fell away from his cheeks.
"Dad?"
Bart took his own step closer, voice barely audible over Tamara's low chant.
"Dad?" Bart asked again, stopping inches short of the barrier. "Is it really you?"
The figure nodded, his eyes switching between the siblings standing so close. He raised his other hand and put it on the barricade, but it did not crackle or threaten to break. There was no flash, no smell of death and decay.
There was only a father and his two children staring at each other across what may as well have been a great chasm.
Sam's next step was surer, but, though she was tempted, she did not lift her hand to the wall.
Could it be over? Was he tricking them, somehow, so he could get another grip on her and bring her down?
But, as the moments passed and her heart broke inside, her own tears began to come, matching his, the one person she always wanted to have be a part of her life and was denied.
He turned his eyes from Bart and stared into her own, their dark color shining with the wetness of the drops, the emotions that overflowed him. Guilt was plastered there, regret filling his stare as the knowledge of what he had done to his daughter fully came into him, goaded on by her presence and mirrored cries.
His mouth remained closed, unable to speak, perhaps, by the spell that kept him bound, but his lament manifested just the same.
If it had been some part of himself that had turned into the dark phantom in the hat, that thing was not the man standing before her. The wicked power that had controlled him, forced him to become what he did, was something outside of himself, not in his ability to control.
That being was torn asunder, blessedly cast away, leaving only this spirit behind.
She took it all in as she reached the edge of the circle, memorizing every line of his face she could see, the wave of his hair in the breeze, not knowing when the flash of clarity would end. The dark power dissipated completely now, the force pushing him to become the predator tamed and faded into nothingness.
This was the man she always wanted to know and love, but never could. That chance was taken from her before she could even take a breath.
Her hand moved, guided by the breeze blowing toward the center of the circle, until it was raised before her. She took the final step and placed it on the barrier.
Her palm flattened against the invisible wall, the warmth from it pouring into her. It was comforting, as it washed over her abused skin, still reddened and sore from being inserted into the revenant flesh.
Her father slid his own hand closer, until his placement matched hers. Though the layer was thin, it kept her just far enough away from his touch to be bittersweet. Her eyes left his for a brief second, tracing the outline of his large hands against her own. So much larger, but still seeming so delicate.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Bart raise his own hand to come to the wall, and she reached across the distance to take his free one. In that moment, two children and their lost father unified in their grief and regret.
Jackson finally tore his eyes away from them both and raised them up toward the sky, his head bent back as a brightness grew in his body. It started in his core, the center of his chest igniting in white, but spread from there to every bit of his form trapped in the bubble. His hands were last, the glow overwhelming Sam's vision until she had to squint into the radiance to see anything at all.
A spike of silver light flared in his eyes and pointed to the heavens, then, with a final flash, his body disintegrated into a cloud of smoke.
Bart and Sam's hands remained on the boundary, but her heart fell as the phantom faded into the vapor. The moment could not last, but she wished it could have. So much she wanted to say to him, the moments that could have existed with him gone with the fading of his heartbeat from his living body. Why couldn't she have said what she needed, while he was still there?
But all that was left of the father she never knew was a pool of smoke.
Bart's hand dropped from the wall but his other held her own, pressure pushing into her from the weight of his own emotions.
Tamara's intonations changed, flowing into ones more broken getting louder with each. When the last came and she collapsed into silence, the barrier faded.
When it did, the vapor contained within spread apart until, after only a few seconds, it could be seen no more.
Sam could watch no more.
She turned to Bart and stepped into him, folding her arms across his back. Everything she had been holding on to fell away from her, bursting in cries of anguish.
Bart put his own around her and wept with her, his grief drifting from his cheeks to her hair.
Chapter 37
Sam wiped away the final tears as Bart moved from her toward the circle.
She sniffled and dried her hands on her pants, rolling some of the sweat from them. Pain flared and she hissed as her irritated skin was aggravated by the fabric.
He made it to the center and stared at the charred remains of the hat he had thrown in. The release of the power the relic contained had been immense, darkening the grass for many feet. Small waves of earth formed from where the energy passed through it, a bulls-eye centered around the still smoking remnants of the material it was created from.
He finally bent down as Sam stepped closer to Tamara.
When he picked it up, much of it fell to pieces again.
He dropped the rest back down and returned to the two women, his hair blowing freely.
Tamara looked the worse of the all. Though some of Sam's clothing had been ripped and her skin was going to take a few days, at least, to recover, Tamara was frail and barely able to move as she sat on the dirt.
Her clothes had been shredded in many places, opened by the claws and teeth of the bugs that had inundated her, and her hair, once long and thick, was straggly and yanked from her scalp, so much it made an almost checker board pattern.
She was breathing, but her eyes were unfocused. Her skin, where it had not been flayed, was pale. Most of her wounds were superficial, but a few seeped blood.
