The Trilogy of the Void: The Complete Boxed Set

by Peter Meredith

  "But..."Amy started to say but stopped, fearing that Talitha was right.

  Katie feared it as well. "Tal, forget about me, I'll be alright. Go after the Draugr; don't let it kill mom and Will. Please," she begged.

  "Mom and Will?" Talitha repeated with slight touch of incredulity. "I don't know. That doesn't seem worth the trip. I gotta tell you—me and Will, we get along about as well as a cat and a dog. And frankly, I would rather see him in the Void, than out of it. He's always fucking with me. Keeping me from having any fun, ya know? And mom? Eh."

  "What do you mean, eh?" Katie demanded. "She's your mother, Tal."

  "Well, she was always so nitpicky. I note that you didn't suggest that I go save our dad. Is he out bowling or something?" For the first time since Talitha had begun speaking there was the slightest hesitation.

  "He's dead already," Katie replied. The word corpse flashed through her mind and it made her chest ache to think it.

  "He's not dead yet," Amy cried; hope made her voice rise the slightest bit. "But he soon will be if Diablo gets there before you,"

  "You're lying...I don't think...you can't kill my father," Talitha hesitated. "He's far too strong... and you're just..." Her voice had changed from the imperious commanding tone to one of confusion. Katie had seen her sister change from one personality to the other a few times years before and it sounded like this.

  "What's wrong, Tal? Was dad supposed to be alive?" Katie strove to keep the fear out of her voice; she knew the evil Talitha thrived on it.

  "Y-yes. Will was going to save him...he was supposed to..." Talitha broke off again.

  Katie glanced at Amy who was slowly pulling herself back together and the young girl realized that for a second there she could've grabbed the gun from the witch, but that moment passed. "What was Will supposed to do? Do you guys have a plan?" Katie asked.

  "Yes, he was supposed to save mom and dad. And I was supposed to kill Amy and take the virg..." This time Talitha didn't falter in her words—she clamped her mouth shut hard.

  The word 'take' didn't register on Katie. She took a shaky breath and rallied her courage. "Tal, forget about me. Go and save mom and Will. Run!"

  "No, I can't," Talitha said in a small voice. Gone was the braggadocios snarling of a minute before—she had thankfully changed. "I can't do it...I can't leave you to the same fate that I went through."

  It was good to hear Talitha's voice the way she always remembered it, but it hurt Katie terribly to have to say, "No darn it, leave me! The sword is way worse than anything Amy can do me."

  "I can't. You don't know how it will be. The Void is horrible beyond..."

  Katie's courage had peaked when Talitha made the change to her nicer personality, but the peak didn't amount to much and was even then slowly dribbling away. With her courage went the strength of her voice and she whispered, "Tal, I'll get out of this, somehow. Please, now go."

  "No, I can't," Talitha said with conviction.

  Time was getting away from them. The thing, the Draugr had run off with great speed. "Do you trust me?" Katie asked the voice in the dark.

  "What? Do I trust you? Katie...I don't really know you. I haven't seen you since you were six years old."

  "You're right, you don't know me. I may not have your strength, or Will's vision, but I saw the demon, Tal. And I'll fight no matter what, and besides, if you save Will, he'll find me and he'll save me." Talitha was silent and seconds ticked by, and with their passing Katie grew more anxious. "Talitha! Go now or you'll lose all of us. Trust me, please."

  "Ok...ok. I will, but I'll be back, ok?"

  Talitha started to run away and then the last words that Katie ever heard from her sister came to her faintly: "I love you, Katie."

  "Love you too," Katie whispered. She cast a look at her captor; Amy held the gun directly on her; it never wavered even for an inch.

  The witch smiled in a sudden relaxed manner. "That was a close one. You did the right thing you know. Better just you in hell than your whole family, right?" It didn't feel so right, not just then. In fact, the girl felt sick but regardless, she nodded in a slight way. Amy nodded back; there was an evil glint in her eyes. "So you gonna fight, like you said?"

  Unable to look the witch in the face, Katie dropped her gaze down at the rock they were sitting on. After her long fear-laden afternoon and her exhausting sprint through the desert, she was done in and just then, felt too weak to do much of anything let alone fight. She shook her head, no.

  "That's what I thought," Amy replied and the smirk in her voice was audible. "Katie?" The witch paused until Katie raised her head like the scared child she was. "Look at what I have here in my hand."

  Her mind screamed for her not to look, but the little thing was so very shiny in the dark night. The thing was interesting as well, so much so that her mind swelled, taking in all of its intricate details and she quite forgot about the gun pointing at her midsection, and she forgot about escape, and even the fact that very soon she would be sacrificed to a fiend from hell and that her soul would be sucked into the Void for all eternity. It was just so shiny.

  Chapter 20

  Talitha

  To the girl flashing across the rugged night desert, the dark wasn't an issue. As plain as day, she could see the cacti, the jagged rocks and the odd, tar-smelling bushes, and she leapt or dodged them without slowing her fantastic, frantic pace. Her long brown hair drew out behind her like the pendants of an olden day frigate, flowing and dancing with the wind of her passing. Her long tan legs stretched, extending beautifully and when she sailed across a gorge of some twenty feet, it was with the grace of a gazelle. To anyone but herself she was a sight. A beautiful girl.

  In her mind, she wasn't and could never be. There was blood on her hands. Literal, actual blood. There was blood in her hair as well, and a fine spray of it across the slim perfection of her neck. She had killed with ease that night. The thugs that had been arrayed around the lonely spire of rock looking to keep a little girl from escaping, had gone down one by one, unaware that something horrible had been stalking them. Unaware that is until the stranger controlling Talitha had become bored over the silent and quick manner in which she murdered. Then she had allowed for some pain, not as much as she would have wished for, but still enough to get her feeling hot and randy.

  The memory of her sexual excitement over the screams and the desperate quiet begging sent a spasm of disgust across her back and shoulders. She wanted to spit. She wanted to take a very long hot shower and scrub away her guilt and sin. And most of all, she wanted to pretend that it hadn't been her. It hadn't felt like her; while the killing had been going on, it had felt as though she were deep underwater, watching helplessly as her hands had crushed throats and beat in skulls.

  It had felt like her other self, the stranger, who was even now watching her again. Sometimes it seemed as if the stranger was in her and at other times it was as if she were being shadowed, only steps away, so that she wanted to turn as she ran and look back. Fear stopped her, she was afraid to see that she was alone, afraid to come to the conclusion that there was no one else culpable, that it was she who was the real killer.

  Talitha sobbed aloud as she ran, confused at who she was and why she did things that she never would have ever considered. On one level, she understood that she was possessed by a second personality, but on a more basic level, the blood on her hands was still wet and stank of copper, the smell of which was driving her crazy. Yet despite her bewildered mind or perhaps because of it, she sped faster than she had ever before. The desert floor zoomed beneath her sprinting feet and after barely two minutes, she could see the Draugr far off. It had a near insurmountable lead and if it were to gain the house before she did, her family would be dead within seconds. Or at least part of her family would.

  Katie might never die. To judge by Will's dreams from the day before, it would seem that her little sister's body might someday end up in cold storage, while her soul, used like a wedge to prop open th
e gate, would forever be tormented in the Void. The thought of leaving her behind made it hard to keep going, since Talitha had been there herself and knew the terrors that the girl would face.

  "You might as well turn back," the stranger demanded. How badly it wanted Katie! This was the greatest reason that Talitha had abandoned her little sister to her fate. With her, the stranger would have the power to control the gate, in essence, the power to control Ba'al Zubel here on earth. That was a power indeed, a great evil power. A power that could turn Talitha into a demon just as Ba'al Fie-ere.

  The stranger reared up, growing stronger at the thought.

  Talitha had to forget Katie. The girl was doomed no matter what. It was sad but true. She didn't even have the option to run away, Talitha had smelled the fragrance of witchcraft all about the rock and knew that Katie was laid upon with a beacon. There was nowhere she could run that Amy couldn't track her down. She was doomed and Talitha forced herself to put the girl out of her mind. Instead, she concentrated on her own running.

  Into her bloodstream, she began to pump dangerous levels of adrenaline and noradrenalin. She constricted blood flow throughout her body so that quickly her arms went numb, but her legs felt fresh and invigorated. She blazed even swifter, faster than any Olympian could hope to run. A minute passed and then two more, and still she kept up her pace. There could be no slowing. The Druagr wouldn't. Or so at first she thought, but as the minutes passed and she drew closer, she saw that it was moving in a shambling unnatural waddle and though it hadn't exactly slowed, it still wasn't as fast as it could have been. Oddly, it made detours around the large formations of bushes that she routinely leapt over without a problem. Because of this, Talitha saw that she might catch it after all, but it would be oh so close.

  With the slim possibility held out before her, she threw everything she had into the final mile and was only dimly aware that she was leaving bloody footprints laid out behind her as the tough skin of her feet shredded under the blistering pace. Soon, in spite of the great control she had over her physicality, her heart thundered in her slim chest and her breathing became harsh. The cool night air burned like fire in her lungs, but she would make it, she would catch the thing. Yet at what cost? She had put her entire self into the sprint of three miles and she rightly gauged her exhausted body to be on its last reserves. She didn't think that she would have anything left to fight such a monster. Yet she had no choice.

  At a little over two hundred yards from the house, she closed on the thing and with each long stride, she drew closer still, until finally, Talitha was near enough to lash out at the thing's legs and this sent it stumbling head over heels. So tired was she that the action staggered her as well and she nearly went sprawling, but managed to stay on her feet. It was a good thing she did too, for the once-human was at her with barely a pause to right itself.

  The Draugr was a blasphemy. It was possessed with unholy energy giving it speed, strength, and vitality out of any proportion to that of the human it had once been. Talitha had never seen one, yet knew much about it, though she had no idea how. The knowledge just came to her in a flash and with it, the understanding that she wasn't likely to prevail against it, at least not as Talitha, not in her present state. She had a much better chance of survival if the killer inside her were to take control and undeniably it wanted to. It was large in her mind, powerful with evil and desire. Even as the Draugr sprang up and sent the hell blade slashing at her face, she felt her mind shifting between herself and the stranger.

  This time Talitha fought back against the stranger.

  What would it gain her to destroy the Draugr only to have the stranger, that evil beast within her, in control of the blade and so close to her parent's home? Talitha knew what the killer would do and decided that it was better to die and have her mottled soul sucked into the Void than to have her own hands further soiled with the guilt of killing her own family. Therefore, she strove in a battle of wills to retain her awareness, even as her body fought just to stay alive.

  Quickly, it felt as though her body was losing.

  Her chest ached with each breath and her feet stung and bled where razor sharp rocks had penetrated the skin. Her legs shook uncontrollably and when the Draugr sent the blade in a hacking slash at her face, they wobbled her backwards and only barely did the black sword miss. She felt the cold of its passing and it froze the sweat beading on her forehead. As she stepped back, Talitha stumbled in her weakness and made to catch herself with her arms, but they were dead weighs, still numb from oxygen deprivation. The best she could manage was an awkward pin wheeling.

  A second later, the creature attacked again and Talitha was still not even close to being balanced. She felt quite a bit as though she were a large penguin with her arms unable to rise above her shoulders. A lurching ungainly backwards momentum was all that she had and she didn't think it would save her, especially when her feet struck one of the large creosote bushes and she fell full into it. In a panic, Talitha began kicking out, forcing herself further into the bush and amazingly the Draugr stopped, seemingly confused.

  It turned its head this way and that, apparently searching for the girl who was only a step away. Next, it moved a few feet to the right, but still it couldn't seem to see the girl with the wonderful tan and the floral print sundress among the leaves and sharp stems of the bush. Eight wonderful precious seconds slipped by as the thing went to and fro searching for her. In that short time Talitha sent fresh oxygen rich blood flooding down her arms, right into her finger tips, and down into her legs. The eight seconds were a godsend, but what she really needed was five minutes resting on her back and a quart of Gatorade.

  That was not to be.

  Abruptly, the Draugr forgot about her, and dashed off in the direction of the house intent on its primary directive, the killing of everyone there. Talitha pulled her weary body out of the bush and stumbled after. Thankfully, a long gully detoured the creature and Talitha, after leaping over it, stood in its path, with her chest heaving and her muscles trembling. She knew the Draugr would attack with strength, speed, and endurance that was greater than her own, and she knew that it would kill her. The reason was simple; she was down to her last reserves of strength and not only that, she lacked ferocity and a killing instinct, these had always been the attributes of her other self.

  As expected, the fiend attacked. It hacked left and right with the blade so that it was all Talitha could do to dodge or block the blows sailing in faster with each swing. More and more she was forced to let her instincts dictate her actions, until she began to feel a hatred for the creature. This feeling was so intense that it came as a surprise and only then did she realize that her instinct for fighting had slipped into a lust for fighting. This wasn't a desire that she had ever felt before.

  Too late, she saw that the stranger had control. This other self dodged and fought with such skilled technique that Talitha worried that she might actually win the fight, but then in her exhaustion, her foot caught on a rock and she faltered to one knee. The Draugr's next attack couldn't be evaded and she brought her left arm up to block the sword from striking her. Her forearm met the forearm of her enemy and the force of the blow almost paralyzed her arm. It fell limp to her side. Now she was too close to the Draugr for any dodging and her only option was too fall back.

  Down she went with the much stronger Draugr on top in a dominant position, and without pause it drove the blade down at her face again. It was a terrible sensation for Talitha to watch as if from a distance, as her body was attacked. She felt helpless seeing the black blade pass within an inch of her face as her head swung hard to the right to avoid it.

  The stranger inside went wild with animalistic fury, the feeling erupted throughout her body, she bucked and heaved, but to no avail—the Draugr was to strong and she too weak—and the blade came again.

  With almost no room to evade it, the blade sank into the side of her neck, just above the sloping trapezius muscle. Immediately she felt her esse
nce, her soul being drawn along into the sword. There was no fighting it. She tried and the stranger tried, but a leaf in a tornado had more control of its destination than she, and down, down, down she felt herself being pulled into the great black Void.

  Chapter 21

  Will

  Will wasted no time preparing himself mentally for the confrontation with Amy's thugs, but Father Vogel was another matter altogether. After Talitha sped off in search of Katie, the priest, decked out as if for Mass, began a final prayer for the men. At first, Will thought it to be a good idea, but it turned out that Father Vogel, unlike most priests, lacked eloquence. He might have been a first rate exorcist and certainly knew psychology and the workings of the human mind, but when it came to exhorting the men and comforting them in times of peril, he was a touch dull and worse, long winded.

  After five minutes, Will began to fidget. At the start of the prayer he felt good, relatively calm, however as the time ticked away he started to get nervous, though judging by the four men of the unit, he shouldn't have been. They stood coolly with bowed heads as Vogel went on and on in a seemingly endless procession of words. After eight minutes, Will not only was nervous, but he also became agitated at the delay, this took the outward expression of him tapping the side of the pistol that he had picked up in Maine. Within him was the desire to check once again the number of rounds in the magazine. He had done this three times already, the first time only a minute after he had loaded the thing.

  A craving for Wild Turkey came upon him, which he attempted to dismiss, though without any real success. Too many times in the past eight years he had used the alcohol as a crutch and now he felt jittery going into a battle without it. Glancing surreptitious at the men, he wondered if any of them were carting about a hip flask or its equivalent, yet nothing looked obvious and he knew he would be too embarrassed to ask.