The Trilogy of the Void: The Complete Boxed Set

by Peter Meredith

  "What?" Tomas shouted.

  Father Menning no longer clawed at his eyes, they were gone. Now he was turning a fantastic shade of deep red. There was almost no time left.

  "Run!" Again, she said it too quietly, barely above a whisper and he bent his head down so that his ear was next to her mouth. "Run please," the words left her mouth without strength.

  She knew what would happen if he left her. The demon would own her soul for all time and the very thought sapped her will.

  "You need to speak up!" he shouted.

  Adrina knew that if he didn't start running in the next couple of seconds, he wouldn't make it—her entire being shook with fear, but somehow she summoned the strength to yell, "Run!"

  Tomas began shaking his head—his lips moving—his finger pointing. She tried to shove him away, but it was too late. She knew it.

  Adrina had taken too long. Her eyes were drawn to the priest and he was now a repulsive purple color. Her son would never make it out of the house alive. She had killed him with her cowardice and there was nothing left to do but to save herself.

  Chapter 2

  Commander William Jern-In the House

  May 10, 1980

  1

  Commander William Jern considered the weather. His upturned face scanned, first eastward as always in the morning, and then slowly rotated a full 360 degrees. The dull clouds drizzled a light chilly rain, and looked like they would all day.

  This was a morning ritual for him dating back to the days when having his own Cutter was still a possibility. His mind pictured one of the long, gleaming white boats the Coast Guard used for drug interdiction, search and rescue, and patrols—he gave a little sigh.

  "Let's go Katie; you don't want to be late." In the military being late was a cardinal sin. Katie looked up at her father and had to crane her neck far back to do it. He was just over six feet tall, very strong and broadly built, while she was a tiny thing.

  "Can I wear your hat, Daddy?" Katie asked as she danced around the puddles. She loved wearing his broad-brimmed white hat with the gold braid. It had meaning to her; it marked her as 'Daddy's Girl,' and of course with it there would be the, 'Oh so cute!' compliments that every 6-year-old girl lived for.

  "Not today honey, I think it will mess up your pretty braids. Mommy worked very hard on them, didn't she?" Braiding hair was quite beyond William, it looked to be an extremely complicated endeavor. The most he would ever attempt were pigtails and they usually came off cockeyed.

  His own hair was dirty blonde and he never permitted it to grow longer than one inch. He had the same hairstyle, which could only be referred to as "regulation" for his entire eighteen years with the Coast Guard.

  "She didn't work hard at all and my hair is real hard too. Feel." Running back to him, Katie pulled off her little plastic hood and presented her shoulder length blonde hair to him. He dutifully reached down and touched it very gently. He was not about to knock one of those braids out of place. "Daddy, you gotta feel harder than that!" she exclaimed still holding her head out to him.

  "Yes, I felt the toughness honey, but the answer is still no. I have to keep my hat on while we're outside. Regulations, remember?"

  "Yeah, those are like rules, right? We have rules in Miss Canaday's class. You're not allowed to chew gum and there's this boy who is kinda mean, Donny, and he had to put his gum on his nose and leave it there for a long time!" She giggled at the memory, "Do you have that rule too?"

  "Oh yes, we have the 'gum on the nose rule'. I constantly have lieutenants walking about saluting with gum on their noses. How else do you think they'll learn their lessons?"

  Katie laughed loudly at the thought and began skipping as he walked along beside her. She would go out of her way to leap over the puddles and William smiled at her; of his three children, she was currently his favorite.

  2

  The question of "favorites" had come up the week before when one of his subordinates, Lieutenant Valdens, had mentioned he had a favorite and really didn't like his other children. This seemed like an odd and rude thing to say, but it caused William to consider whether he had favorites. He didn't think he did, except when he got home that night, he had to reconsider.

  He was helping his sixteen-year-old daughter, Talitha with her homework and suddenly the thought struck him, "She's my favorite." Talitha was beautiful like her mother, brainy like her father, kind, gentle, and funny as well. William loved her with all of his heart.

  However, the notion that he loved her more than he loved the others made him a bit sad. He decided he needed to spend more time with his other children and went to his son's room. As usual, William ended up in a wrestling match with Will. At seventeen, his son was fast becoming a man and couldn't wait for the day when he could out-wrestle his dad.

  That day wasn't far off since Will was already taller than, and almost as strong as William. Will was athletic and handsome, and William was very proud of his son. From a young age, he was extremely personable and could sit among adults and converse on their level. With all that, one would think he would have a certain amount of conceit, but Will was also very humble. Lying there, holding his son in his "Unbreakable Death Grip," William realized that he had been wrong earlier and that it was his son who was really his favorite.

  And later that night after William read Katie her bedtime story: Are You My Mother and tickled her until she couldn't breathe, he concluded that his favorite child was whichever one was closest to him at the moment. He didn't know if this was considered proper parenting, but he didn't much care either.

  Now, watching his daughter skip about the puddles in her Minnie Mouse raincoat and matching shoes, his heart swelled with the love he felt for her.

  He asked her, "Do you still think Miss Canaday is the meanest teacher ever?"

  "What? No Miss Canaday is the best teacher I ever had." This was odd since Katie had proclaimed her: "The Meanest Teacher" ever just two days ago.

  William's wife Gayle had received a call from Miss Canaday who stated that Katie had become too affectionate with one of the boys. Too affectionate, didn't sit well with William. His other daughter Talitha even at a young age, considered herself above such nonsense. She saw almost all boys as terribly immature and beneath her dignity. This was an attitude William appreciated, kissing boys in the first grade was not.

  That night William and Gayle had a talk with Katie, and William took the lead, "Katherine, we need to discuss how you're acting in school. With boys that is. Miss Canaday tells us that you've been doing quite a bit of kissing. Honey, this is inappropriate behavior for a young lady. Kissing boys leads to promiscuity, and that leads to...um...ahh," William had started the sentence well, but couldn't seem to finish, especially with Gayle eyeing him.

  She was obviously enjoying this, but he persevered, "And that could lead to bad things...improper things."

  Gayle cocked an eyebrow at him and then turned away to hide her smile. Katie however, had the proper attitude. She saw that daddy was using his stern face and commanding voice, so she immediately brought forth her corresponding sad face with a complementary contrite tone.

  "I'm sorry, Daddy. I don't think I meant it. I think it was an accident. What does promise-too-ity mean?" William could see that she was trying to cute her way out of trouble.

  Gayle turned back to him, this time with both eyebrows raised and a slight smile, it was an 'Oh please, do tell what promise-too-ity means, I can't wait,' kind of look.

  "First off, you don't accidentally kiss a boy. Second the word is promiscuity and it means...ah," William refused to look at Gayle, but with his peripheral vision saw her eyebrows edge up slightly. "It means it's bad to go around kissing lots of boys."

  He glanced at his wife, her face now told him, 'Eh not bad, could have been better.' William was in the middle of giving her a, 'It was fine' face with a slight head nod for emphasis when Katie showed him it wasn't fine.

  "But I didn't kiss lots of boys! It was just one boy, I k
issed lots of times," she explained. "And Miss Canaday is a snitch and the meanest teacher ever, she hates me! And I don't think I am being a promise-cute-ity neither!" She said this last bit with arms crossed and a small stamp of her foot.

  "Listen, its prom-es-cu..." he started to explain the proper pronunciation when Gayle interrupted.

  "I think we're done trying to teach our six-year-old that word," Gayle said to William, her face giving him a look that agreed with the statement, maybe even a bit more so. "Katie honey, no more kissing at school." This time it was William whose eyebrows shot up and Gayle continued quickly, "I mean you're too young to be kissing at all, so cut it out. Another thing, Miss Canaday is not a snitch and isn't the meanest teacher ever."

  Now, William was glad to hear that Miss Canaday was back to being The Best Teacher Ever. He certainly appreciated a teacher who would go out of her way to call over something as simple as that.

  The drizzle started to fall just a little heavier and William opened up his black umbrella. He almost called Katie over, but she was practicing her ballet in the rain and she was too precious to interrupt.

  She suddenly looked like her mother. With her little hood thrown back, the rain had darkened her hair and the braids resembled the way Gayle had kept hers when she had danced. She'd been very good once and Gayle still kept her figure slim and tone. Katie almost never looked like her mom, but it was these little moments when she did that he liked the most. She was normally the cutest thing on two legs, but every so often, he would catch a glimpse of the beautiful woman she would become and he'd glow with pride.

  "Daddy, my school is that way," she said interrupting his thinking. She pointed down Clayton Road, the direction they normally took to her school.

  "I know dear, but I wanted to swing by our new home and find out how the work is progressing. You can see your new bedroom," he added as an inducement.

  "I like my room now, with Tal. And we don't want to move," Katie said this as she leapt a very large puddle, just barely clearing it. "Tal wants to stay in my room with me, and we don't know anyone way over here, and all my friends are back at the apartment."

  William expected this. "There are lots of nice children who live in this area. I see them all of the time when I'm at work." He pointed up at a window in the three-story brick building they were walking next to. "Do you see that window?"

  Her blue eyes blinking into the rain, Katie said, "Uh-huh"

  "That's my office where I work and right over there is our new house." William pointed across a large oak-tree lined grassy park at a row of brick houses.

  Katie squinted at the house, her tiny nose wrinkling. "I don't like it. And Tal doesn't like it. It's so dark and red and we only like houses that are white with blue window thingies," she explained.

  "Thingies? Do you mean shutters or drapes?"

  "Are the shuterns on the outside or the inside?" Katie asked. She stood in front of the largest puddle yet, contemplating.

  "The 'shutters' are on the outside. And Katherine." When her daddy used her full name and his commanding voice, it meant pay attention. She paused just as she was getting ready for her run up to the puddle and looked up at him. "Don't try to jump that puddle. You won't make it across and you will get those pretty shoes all wet."

  She looked down at her little black shoes and Minnie Mouse looked back up at her. "Hmm," she said now eyeing the puddle. One more glance at her shoes and she skipped around it; Minnie's input must have helped. "Well Tal definitely doesn't like the house, unless she can stay in my room with me and even then I'm sure she doesn't like it."

  "Talitha has already seen the house and has told me she approves of it." A minute later, as they walked up to it, William pointed again. "Do you see that window over the porch? That's your room, and if you look," he faced back to the building across the park. "There's my office. If you ever get lonely or scared, you can just wave to me."

  Katie brightened at the idea and ran to the brick porch and up the stairs. Looking back, doubt swept across her face. "Are you sure you can see that far?" she asked. "It's kinda far and you're getting really old."

  "What? I'm only forty-one. Where do you get the idea I'm getting too old to see that far?" William climbed the stairs and looked back, squinting. He was that old it seemed. The window was plainly visible, but he didn't think he would be able to see her little arm from there.

  Katie, still looking at the window across the way, replied, "You said it right after you wrestled with Willy J. You said, 'I must be getting old' and you have glasses; I have seen them by your bed. And you have grey hair. And that makes you old," she explained. "Grandpa is really, really old, but I think you're only really, kinda old."

  William was in great shape; he ran five miles a day and lifted weights three times a week. He played in a basketball league with men half his age and routinely left them in his dust. He was about to explain this to his daughter, but the idea of defending his physical abilities to a six-year-old, well... made him feel old. Besides, she had a point. "You could flick your lights on and off as a sign," he suggested.

  "You won't see them in the daytime and that's when you work," Katie enlightened him patiently.

  Now in addition to old, he could add stupid to how he felt. "You're pretty smart, you know that?" he said. She smiled and nodded in agreement. He continued, "How about this. If you're lonely you could put your blue blanket in the window and if you're scared you, ah... put your red jacket in the window. I can see those easy."

  "That's a good idea. You are kinda smart too, Daddy," she said still smiling happily up at him.

  "Thanks."

  "You're welcome." After a pause she asked, "Is there room for my bike here?"

  He climbed down from the porch. "Of course. That," he said pointing to the left side of the house, "over there, is the garage and it will fit the car and the bikes." Her bike, along with most of their belongings was currently in a large storeroom.

  Their last place was a spacious four bedroom suburban house; their "home" now was an eight hundred square foot apartment. It was so tiny that he and his wife were sleeping on his son's old bed, since their king sized one didn't fit in what was laughably called the master suite. Their heavy leather couches that were purchased fourteen months ago at great expense, lay under boxes and boxes of dishes and clothes and who knows what else.

  They'd come to Governors Island, expecting one of the nice colonial homes only to be told that the house they had been promised had been given to a higher ranking officer. With no other houses available they had no choice, but to move into one of the four apartment buildings on the island.

  There they lived cramped, tremendously so, with no end in sight, until an unfortunate event occurred. A vacancy on Colonel's Row came about when illness befell the wife of Commander Steve Nelson; this had forced their entire family to move. It was sad for the Nelsons, but the Jerns were going to finally get some much-needed space.

  The Nelsons had moved out ten weeks previous and the Jerns were starting to get antsy, especially Gayle. Their move in date, delayed three times already, was the reason why Commander Jern was at the house again. He was there to see what, if anything had been done on the very short list of repairs.

  Looking back up at the house, it was obvious nobody was currently working on it. The windows were black and impenetrable; they seemed to glare down at him. In fact, from the sidewalk the house appeared to lean forward imposingly.

  Mounting the steps, he worked his key into the lock and stepped inside.

  3

  The place was quiet as a tomb, and as cold as one—William was amazed to be able to see his breath. It felt close to freezing inside the house.

  Snapping on the entire bank of light switches in the foyer, he went first to the thermostat and saw that the setting was at its coldest. He cranked it all the way over and waited, listening.

  "Come on, Daddy! Let's go see my room!" Katie tried to tug him into the living room.

  "Just a second,"
he murmured, feeling an unusual need to be as quiet. The house was so silent that on a subconscious level the least noise grated on him. "Let's take off our shoes...so we don't make a mess of these pretty floors."

  Katie was all too happy to slip off her Minnie Mouse shoes and once in her stockings, she did a quick pirouette and almost scampered off again, but he held her back.

  "Not yet," he said in a hushed tone. Fervently he hoped the pilot light to the boiler was still lit. On his last visit, he had to light it himself and that had been a strangely upsetting experience. In order to light the boiler, he had to lie down in front of it and stick his arm deep within. It felt like he was reaching into a great mouth and he had the feeling that at any moment, it would bite down.

  He didn't know much about boilers, but the insides of this one, felt unnecessarily pointy and sharp, which only added to the illusion of a tooth-filled mouth. It gave him the shivers, like someone had walked over his grave.

  From somewhere upstairs, came a sudden loud bang. Then another sound, like a hammer striking thick metal came from the direction of the dining room. Even though he knew the sounds were coming, he jumped and the muscles of his back and chest tightened.

  "What's that?" Katie asked with a touch of mild alarm.

  "Don't worry, it's normal," he said, relaxing. "We have radiators here and they always make this kind of ruckus when heating up."

  The explanation calmed her fears and she dashed off, sliding across the glossy hardwood floors into the living room. It was a large room and it contained the best feature in the house.

  A wide curving staircase that descended from the second floor in a great sweep. The banister was hand crafted out of a dark, rich wood and inlaid with beautiful leaf patterns. The staircase made the room feel significant and William imagined throwing parties here.