The Trilogy of the Void: The Complete Boxed Set

by Peter Meredith

  When Jim, panting and sweating, came upon it minutes later, his intestines turned to water. Even in the unrelenting dark, there was no mistaking the gun and the purpose of the string and the pulleys. Jim's frenzied desire to find Luke and help Father Alba vanished almost completely and the two men were nearly paralyzed into inaction by the fear of another trap.

  They had moved snail-like down the stairs and then with painful slowness had gone from room to room in the basement. Even when they heard the unmistakable sounds of fighting, they couldn't force themselves along any faster.

  That Will had won the fight with his sister wasn't immediately obvious. His face was a terrific wreck and he stood bleeding gently, the red drops a quiet rhythmic lip...lip...lip, on the floor. Will didn't answer the question, but Jim could tell that Father John was dead by the man's expression.

  "Was it one of the traps," he asked Will as gently as he could.

  Will nodded vaguely, however he contradicted the movement, saying in a hollow voice, "No. I killed him...my cowardice killed him." He gave his head a short violent shake, spraying Jim with blood, and went to the door. "Sean! Luke is loose somewhere in the building! Come on down here." His voice was rough as sand paper.

  "We should go to him," Jim said getting up. "He's with Father Alba, he can't leave him alone." He then bent and with ease, lifted Talitha up into his arms. She grunted in pain and it was then that he noticed her less obvious injuries, her left arm hung limp and sported spectacular vibrant purple bruising, her right knee, exposed by his lifting was swollen to twice the size of the left. She was in bad shape, but her brother was worse.

  However, he didn't seem to notice. Not even the flap of skin hanging over his left eye, it bled like rain onto the shoulder of his shirt, which at one time had been tan, but now was a red brown. Will looked down his now bent and bleeding nose at Jim.

  "Father Alba can wait, we need to find Luke."

  "No. Father Alba needs to get to a hospital, right away," Jim answered.

  Will blinked, confused. "What? Wait...is he still alive? How?"

  "I don't know, but he is. Come on." Jim led the way carrying Talitha, who looked shell-shocked by everything that had gone on around her.

  In seconds, they were in the room with the priest and the other horrible child corpse. Sean Shay knelt behind Father Alba, cradling his head on his fat thighs. "His eyes...are gone. They're just gone." His tremendous belly jiggled with his rapid breathing and the priests head bounce along keeping time.

  Will knelt down and peered into the gaping holes. He reached out both hands to touch the wounds, only to stop slightly confused, and he stared for just a second at the two dislocated fingers on his left hand. The pinky and ring fingers were bent back and to the side. The sight of it bothered Jim, but when the man calmly yanked the fingers back into position, with grisly popping sounds, Jim eyes fairly bugged out of their sockets and he felt his stomach roll queasily.

  Will massaged his fingers absently for a moment, before again reaching out for the priest.

  "How do I look?" Father Alba asked unexpectedly.

  Everyone jumped, startled. Without eyes, Jim couldn't tell that the man had been awake and just assumed him to be unconscious.

  "Oh hey, Father...you look, well..." Will trailed off into silence, inspecting the wounds closer. Jim could see that the left eye looked the worse of the two; there the eyelid and eyebrow had been torn off completely. On the right side at least, the skin still hung there like an old curtain.

  "Sean, prop him up higher, we don't want the blood to drain back," Will commanded and then to the priest said, "It's not so good, Father. Your eyes are gone and the skin is going to take some work to look...more normal. I'm sorry, I should..."

  The priest interrupted, "It's not your fault, Will. But please tell me you didn't kill your sister."

  Jim felt Talitha begin to cry again and he watched as she used her good arm to pull her broken one to her chest and tuck the blood stained fingers into a pocket of her dress, she then hid her right hand as well.

  Will's eyes flicked toward his sister before he answered, "No I didn't, but I wanted to...I want to." His voice was matter of fact, cold and seemingly heartless and it pained Jim to hear it.

  "Your reaction is normal...human even, but Jesus wants us to be more than that. I forgave your sister, even after she blinded me, Will."

  Talitha had begun shaking against Jim's chest and she spoke up in anger, "I don't deserve forgiveness...I deserve to die."

  "Remember, Talitha..." the priest began, but was interrupted again.

  "Enough! I don't have time for this crap," Will cried angrily and pulled himself up. "I don't have time for your crap, Talitha or yours...uh Father Alba." Will realized too late, that pointing at the man was now useless.

  "Will..." Jim was cut off as well.

  "Or yours," Will turned angrily to Jim. "We have that God damned freak Luke running around. We have to get Father Alba to a hospital. We have to somehow keep from getting arrested, seeing as we harbored two mass murderers...and we have to do something with...something about..."

  "Father John?" Talitha suggested meekly.

  "Yeah, Father John. We can't leave him here." Will looked down in concentration and blood trickled into his eyes. He wiped it away, pushing the flap of skin back up onto his forehead absently, as if it was hair that had blown out of place by the wind. "First things first, we get Father Alba to a hospital. Sean help me carry the Father. Jim carry my sister."

  He spoke in such a way that nobody second-guessed him. They traversed the building slowly, fearful of every shadow, but the factory was as silent as a tomb. Talitha was able to sniff out two more traps that stood in their way, one a gun trap similar to the ones found in the stairwells and one that they guessed was a pressure sensitive bomb. They gave it a wide berth.

  The five of them paused at the body of Father John, while Father Alba gave a short prayer and then they were in the pouring rain a minute later. Luke had made a clean get away—only the old station wagon of Father Alba's sat in the parking lot and they hurried the priest into it.

  "He's gone, God damn it!" Will swore when they got into the car.

  "That's enough," Father Alba scolded him and then said gently. "Luke is gone and I doubt he's coming back, so you have time to move Father John's body."

  "Excuse me Father, but Luke may not be so far out of reach as you might think. Will, here can see the future, maybe we can find out where he's..." Jim began, before Will broke in.

  "Are you kidding? I'm done with this. Father John is dead because of me," Will said outraged.

  "Will, stop blaming yourself." Jim replied, "Father John is dead because of a...I got confused, was Luke possessed or not?" he asked Talitha and everyone except Father Alba looked at her.

  "Who was possessed?" Talitha stared about in puzzlement.

  Jim paused for a moment, before deciding to ignore her question, since the explanation would take some time. "Father John was killed by a madman, not by you, Will."

  "Either way, I'm not doing it, I won't look. He's the police's problem now," Will responded and stared out the fog-covered window.

  "I'll help if I can," Talitha volunteered. "We can go by his job or house and sniff around, maybe we can find some...clues." She blushed oddly, but for what reason Jim didn't know. However, Will seemed to, and looked at his sister a long time; as he did the edges of his anger wilted.

  "I guess I'm willing to go with Nancy Drew here, and look around his place," he said and she blushed harder; it was endearing to Jim.

  "Will," Father Alba spoke weakly, "I don't feel well...I keep passing out, not that you could tell." He chuckled faintly. "Take this." He struggled to take the heavy pewter cross from his neck and Will helped to take it off of him. "Wear it. Remember God is always with you. Do what you can to stop Luke, please."

  The request seemed to cause Will pain, he grimaced. "I will...everything but looking into the future...Father?" There was no answer from t
he priest and alarm shot into Will's face. "Sean, take him to the emergency room. Make something up...tell them you found him this way outside the church and..."

  "Talitha," the blind priest said quietly and they all jumped, startled again.

  "Y-yes, Father," she stammered.

  "I have forgiven you, now you must forgive yourself. Don't take any sins with you if..." he trailed off and without eyes, his horrific expression didn't change and they were clueless whether he was awake or not.

  Seconds passed in silence and then Will barked an order, "Everyone out of the car. Sean go, don't dawdle."

  Talitha and Will pulled themselves slowly and painfully from the car, while Jim was just as slow due to his size. In moments they stood in the pouring rain watching the car disappearing into the deluge.

  "What do we do now?" Jim had to yell due to the noise of the storm.

  It turned out there was much to be done.

  They started by going from room to room in an attempt to erase any sign that any of them had ever set foot in the old factory, but they hadn't got far before Jim mentioned in passing about the weird diagrams and symbols painted on the floors around the bodies of the five children.

  The three other corpses, they found with ease, using Talitha's sense of smell and the positions and drawing had been identical. A spasm of anxiety rippled across her features, as Jim dutifully described in detail the symbols and drawings. She then demanded a play by play of all their dealings with Luke as well as the other Talitha.

  "What's all this for?" Will asked

  "I'm not sure, I almost wish the other Talitha were here, she would know."

  "Don't say that, it's not funny. Just give me your best guess." Will's mood hadn't improved. He was obviously now feeling the pain of the fight and he frequently rubbed his head gingerly and let out little groans. This was the opposite of his sister, who healed so fast, that she was already limping about unassisted.

  "Best guess, it's most likely some way for this Luke person to communicate with creatures in the void."

  "Really?" Will walked around the circle studying the markings. "Don't you think a Ouija board would be simpler? I told you that Henny Harris used one, right?"

  "You did," she assured him. "However, a Ouija board might be simpler to use, but that may mean it gives a simple message as well. Have you ever seen one? You can get answers to yes or no questions easy enough, but anything more complicated has to be spelled out."

  Will nodded, staring down at the symbol without seeing it. "You may be right. Luke knew very personal information, things you'd never find out by asking yes or no questions."

  Silence followed this and Jim, who couldn't stop staring at the decomposing corpse of a child who would never throw another baseball or open another Christmas present, said, "Why would he do this to little boys?"

  "Do you mean defile them?" Talitha asked.

  "Huh?" Defile wasn't in his relatively small vocabulary. "What do you mean?"

  "Judging by the smell and their positions...it's obvious these boys were raped." Wearing a look of disgust, she turned and hobbled for the door.

  "But why boys at all? You had spoken about virgin girls, not boys," Will said, stopping her at the door. "I want you to stay with us, don't wander about alone." It came out gruffly.

  "I'm sorry, but being in the same room with...him, is depressing." She had a haunted look in her eyes, perhaps of a memory she wished she could forget. She sighed wearily. "Boys or girls, does it matter? It's all sad."

  "I agree," Will said, "But it may matter to Luke. He went from snatching boys and doing...all this stuff, to then faking a possession and demanding the sword."

  Jim felt puzzled at the conversation. "Was he faking it with that spell thing? It seemed so realistic."

  "Oh I'm sure he was faking it. When the other Talitha ripped up those papers, it was like a switch was thrown and I could see the guy as he truly was. The other Talitha sure thought so, even from the very beginning, she said boys couldn't be possessed," Will remembered.

  "I am tempted to believe the other Talitha," Talitha said. "Women are built structurally to carry another living being inside them. Perhaps this isn't strictly physical, perhaps there is a spiritual component as well."

  Will nodded understanding. "That makes sense, but why boys for this? Was he just a whacked out pederast, or was this some sort of messed up ritual?"

  Jim, feeling stupid asked, "What's a pederast?"

  Will answered, "A gay guy who likes to you know, sleep with young boys."

  "That's sick!" Jim was appalled and also slightly nauseous. He walked over to a heavy pipe and sat down. "But...but this Luke asshole, he also uh, defiled Sister Mary."

  "Wasn't she old? I mean really old?" Will asked and when Jim nodded, Will went and sat down next to him. "Gross," he exclaimed and Jim nodded again.

  Talitha stood turning her head this way and that. "I think we can throw out the pederast theory. My guess he used the boys as energy to power whatever spells or incantations he was using. The old lady? Probably just trying to increase his mystique, make everyone more afraid of him. That or he's just gross."

  Will shrugged. "Seems logical. Talitha, what are you doing?"

  She had been turning her head about oddly. "My eyesight is coming back. It's like being able to see for the first time, it's interesting."

  "Oh," Will sounded disappointed. "How soon till you can see normal again?"

  She gave a little shrug. "An hour, maybe two."

  Will and Jim shared a look and a worry for the future, the bigger man turned back to Talitha. "So where does any of this leave us?"

  "He has an apartment, we should go there," she answered. "If we don't find anything, then I don't know what to do. After all, this is his secret lair. It's unlikely that he has a secret-secret lair, with hidden passages and laboratories filled with bubbling test tubes." The image made Jim smile, and she seemed to sense it and smiled back.

  "There could be some clues somewhere in here?" Jim waved his arm indicating the entire factory.

  "I'm sorry but his scent is everywhere. If he had a secret diary or more incantations, they could be anywhere, which is one of the reasons why, we have to burn this whole place down."

  Chapter 19

  The Crush

  From the steeple, looking through the canted stained glass windows, Jim saw the black smoke rising from the remains of the Haikes Rubber and Tire Co. And this was despite the rain that came down in steady sheets.

  Talitha, freshly showered and looking young and beautiful, watched with him. They shared the same small window, which afforded the best view of a whole lot of nothing: some trees, the tops of buildings, a little smoke, and a lot of rain. But for Jim, the best view was the slender curve of her neck; an artist had created it and he could stare at it forever.

  "I'm worried about the rain dousing the fire too soon," she said with a sigh.

  He sighed as well, but wasn't worried about the rain at all. Even though the factory had been closed for years, there was enough flammable material to cause quite a bonfire.

  "I don't think you need to worry too much, the flames were plenty high."

  "No offense Jim, but bigger isn't always better," she replied turning from their window and looking up at him, craning her neck far back to do so. "It's the temperature that's most important. Have you ever read Fahrenheit 451?"

  Jim could vaguely recall a book of that title that he hadn't bothered reading in tenth grade English—a class he'd passed regardless. "No, we must've read a different book."

  "The title of the book is supposedly the temperature at which paper burns. If you ask any high-school student who has read the book, what temperature does paper burn? They will all tell you 451 degrees," she said this with a knowing smile.

  "Is the title of the book wrong?" he asked, thinking it must be.

  "Yes and no. It's funny, the author Ray Bradbury, didn't ask a scientist what the right temperature would be, he asked a fireman." Tal
itha smiled at this, Jim did as well, even though it sounded reasonable to him. "It just so happens that this particular fireman was very knowledgeable and gave him a pretty good answer."

  "How could it be pretty good? Either he was right or he wasn't."

  "Well that brings me to my worry about the rain," she answered. "451 degrees will auto ignite a certain weight of dry, untreated cellulose based paper, under proper conditions."

  Jim's slow stare made her retry.

  "What I mean to say is there are lots of variables the fireman didn't take into consideration before answering and some of these same variables are worrying me if Luke hid spells in the factory. For instance, there needs to be a proper amount of oxygen for the paper to burn, if they're in a sealed pipe, discoloration may be all we get. But I'm most worried about the paper."

  "You just might be over thinking this. Isn't paper just paper?" Jim asked.

  "No. Cellulose based paper, paper coming from wood pulp, can be of varying weights—what you would call thickness. The thicker the paper, the higher the temperature needed to start and sustain a fire. But there are other types of paper, and an incantation especially an old one, might just be written on vellum."

  "Is that a special kind of tree?"

  She smiled at him, but it wasn't a hurtful smile. It was a cryptic smile. "No, vellum is actually a writing surface created from the skin of mammals. Usually calf skin or sheep, but it could be almost any mammal, including human."

  "Gross...that's just so gross." Jim shook his head at the idea. "But knowing this sick freak, I wouldn't put it past him." He looked again at the smoke, it was still thick and heavy, even after three hours. He sighed again and this time it was she that followed suit.

  "How's Father Alba?" she asked nonchalantly. They had been up in the steeple for twenty minutes and she had clearly wanted to ask him about his phone call to the hospital the entire time.