“Darren and Zachary are dead, April won’t be the same, and Miranda is going to prison,” Maxwell said quietly. “If I knew this was the homecoming, I would have driven my bike into the Saint Lawrence. Drive.”
The ride to the crossroads was a silent one. Maxwell could see the grey patch of trees surrounding the intersecting dirt roads well in advance. The grass in the graveyard was yellow, the oaks, pines and birch trees were grey for fifty feet in all directions as though they had been parched, dead and sun-bleached for a hundred years. When the car stopped, he could see their limbs had been twisted, hollow faces stared towards the middle of the intersection. A few of the grey faces were furious, their long, dark hollow expressions severe and jagged. Most were morose, rounded and drooping.
A dozen elders from the Gathering circle the night before were along the roadside, watching the car pull in, waiting. “You’re my brother,” Maxwell said to Bernie as he turned the car off. “Doin’ this as much for you as for anyone.”
“I know, Max,” he replied. “Wish I was going with you.”
“Not this time,” Maxwell said. “I’ll tell you where to find the book when I call from the road.”
Bernie hugged him and got out of the car.
“Sure going to miss you, Dad,” Maxwell said to Allen just as he was opening the door. “Thank the stars you were there to catch me when I was young.”
“I’m sorry you’re taking this on the way you are,” Allen said. “But I’m proud of you.”
Maxwell got out of the car and walked to the middle of the crossroads. The chill in the air was still intense, and he knew he’d be facing something evil if it weren’t for the group of elders shedding their light on the crossroads. The sun was going down, there was no time for hesitation, so he picked up the shovel dropped in the middle of the road and dug down to his seal.
Sweat broke on his brow as he felt malicious eyes staring at his back. Whatever was coming to visit the stone was powerful enough to stare through the protection a dozen elders had drawn around the crossroads. He smirked at he struck the iron seal, and knelt down to pick it up. One of the elders took it in oiled cloth marked with protective symbols. “Not going to want to use that until it’s blessed again,” Maxwell told him.
“We’re going to melt it down and cleanse the metal,” the elder said. “Thank you for doing this, man.”
Maxwell looked up and recognized the man who joined them for a few songs, his blonde and silver hair was bound up in a long braid. “The road is a second home,” he told him.
“Come see me in Arizona sometime,” the elder replied as he closed the oiled cloth and returned to his place on the roadside.
Maxwell looked at the Dawn Shard in the hole and shook his head. “We’re going on a trip, you and I,” Maxwell said. He could feel the evil staring at him from a distance recede as soon as he made contact. The feeling that hundreds of other worldly beings were pressed back filled Maxwell. They were still there, he could faintly feel their desperation and hate. “I’m going to find out what you’re really for some day.” He shoved it into his pocket.
Bernie was behind him with the keys to the Nova. “I’m going to miss you, man.” He said with a hug.
“Me too, but you’d better get back to the farm, I don’t want to wait around her long,” Maxwell said.
“The car is all loaded up, I even had time to get your amp in there, just in case,” Bernie said.
“I lost a minute somewhere,” Maxwell said. “Take care of Miranda and her aunts for me, make sure they know I’m sorry.”
“They know,” Bernie said. “They don’t blame you, but they know.”
With a final, firm hand shake, Maxwell left his friend behind. He got into the black Chevy Nova, moved the seat up, started the engine, and put the car into drive.
Epilogue
October 31, 1976
A gas station just outside Big Wreck, Arizona.
“I hear you,” Maxwell said as he turned the ignition key of the Chevy Nova off. He could feel the lady in the passenger seat, if not see her. Harriet McCullen had a son who had run off as a teenager, and she was deeply worried. She had been deeply worried for a very long time. “I know where to find your boy Daryl, and you’ll be seeing him tonight, just be a little patient. I’ve got a call to make, so I’ll be minute, luv.”
He stepped out of the car and into the merciless Arizona sun. “Missing Canada fall today,” he said to the gas attendant, a dusty looking fellow in an EXXON hat. “Fill it up with regular.”
He stepped into the telephone booth and connected to the operator. “Collect call to Canada, here’s the number.”
A moment later the line rang and Bernie picked up. “Max! How’s the road?”
“Road’s doing fine,” Maxwell said, leaning against the glass and looking out towards the parched highway. “Driving almost pothole free out here, makes me wish I had my bike. Might not have room for this week’s passenger though.”
“You picked up another lost one?” Bernie asked, surprised.
“Lots of ‘em out here. This one’s as pleasant as you please, just wants to be reunited with her son, says he wandered off to a mining town called Big Wreck. I asked around, and sure enough, I wasn’t too far. Place has been abandoned since the early nineteen hundreds.”
“Big Wreck? You’re kidding,” Bernie laughed.
“Couldn’t make it up, mate. Drew the sign on a quarter, threw it on the ground and the Shard moved it in the right direction. Her son’s spirit’s trapped there, who knows why, but I bet bringing his mother for a visit will jostle it free. Then their happy reunion will get them clear of the Dawn Shard, on to the other side at last. That’s if it’s like last time. Good way to spend my Halloween.”
“I wish I could see that, man,” Bernie said. “I guess you found out what the shard’s good for.”
“Maybe, I’m pretty sure that’s not why it was made, but maybe I can make this more of a regular thing, give me another reason to crisscross the continent. How’s the farm?” Maxwell asked, bracing himself for bad news.
“Mixed news, man. Things are quiet here, having a little Samhain thing. Got a call from the record company. Raw Dog has officially been bought by S&K records. They’re reissuing our album, apparently people are looking for copies thanks to everything that happened last summer. They want us to go along with it, are asking if we can get another tour together.”
“You told them our lead singer is six feet under?” Maxwell asked without thinking.
“Well, yeah, they want to set us up with some guy who looks and sounds like Zack.”
“Bloody vultures,” Maxwell said.
“I’m thinking about it,” Bernie said. “Not with the new singer, fuck them, but they say we can make appearances in record stores, sign some records. Maybe something good can come out of the band’s reputation, I could meet you in a few cities, they’ll pay.”
“If we don’t have to dance behind some new wanker they put in front of us to sing our songs, then yeah. Guess it’s a good way to stop asking for handouts so I can keep gas in the tank.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“And I’ll get some living company on the road for a while,” Maxwell said. “I’m fine out here, mate, but it would be good to see someone breathe in the passenger seat.” He did his best to suppress his excitement at seeing his long time friend again. “Just wondering, how many they pressing?”
“They say fifty thousand plus another twenty thousand if we do the record store thing,” Bernie. “We’re getting radio play in the States because of our new dark reputation, so they’re sure they can move the records. It’s a lot of money.”
“I’ll believe it when we’re signing albums in a store,” Maxwell said. “But, yeah, let’s do it. Scottie?”
“He won’t be going with us. Taking care of April.”
“Good, that’s where he wants to be,” Maxwell said. “In the main house?”
“The two bedroom cabin,�
� Bernie replied. “Think I heard April laugh for the first time since they moved in yesterday. She’s come out a few times since she got a mask for her mouth. They were able to save most of her nose, so I think she’s going to come through this.”
“See Miranda this week?” Maxwell asked.
“Yesterday, and Wednesday,” Bernie said. “I have good news and bad news. The hospital guard who saw it all go down is in Algoma Sanitarium. The Crown is still looking to prosecute, but they offered her a deal. Second degree murder instead of first degree, and fifteen years, but someone high up pulled some strings when they got new information, nothing was signed yet.”
“What new information? No one’s talking, everyone expects a trial,” Maxwell said, bracing himself for the worst.
“Max, she’s pregnant. They’re dropping it down to the minimum, ten years,” Bernie said.
“What? She’s pregnant?” Maxwell asked.
“You’re going to be a dad,” Bernie said. “Man, she needs you to say something, especially now. I know this is a lot to take, but write her a letter. We can set up a telephone call too, just say the word.”
“I will,” Maxwell said. He squeezed his eyes shut, clamped his jaws together. “Fuck, she must hate me.”
“Not in this lifetime, brother,” Bernie said.
“She will. I can’t put the Shard down. This thing, it’s doing something to me, Bernie. What I can see, the things that turn their heads when I drive through a town, I can’t pass it on. I need to ask you and her something, I’ll write her about it myself, but I have to ask you to be a father. At least until I can come home, at least until we can find a grave that can hold this thing.”
“Max, you know I’d do anything for you,” Bernie said. “Is it really that bad?”
“It’s a part of me, mate. Can’t let anyone else near it, especially someone I give a shit about. I pass it on, and it’ll stay connected to me anyway for years longer. I can’t be around kids with what follows me, with or without the Shard.”
“I’ll take care of your kid while you’re out there, no problem,” Bernie said.
“No, I’m asking you to get on the birth certificate. That way I’ll know no one can take that kid away, and it’ll always be in a good place. I’ll make it sound right to Miranda, I know she’ll agree. I won’t have my kid grow up with a rainy day dad.”
“You’re sure?” Bernie asked. “I love you man, and Miranda, I’ll do this for you, because I know where you’re coming from, but if you have any doubt.”
“I want to be there,” Maxwell said, pulling the shard from his pocket and looking at it. “It’s not good for the kid, though. I need you for this, brother, though I’ve no right to ask.”
“I can do this for you, Max,” Bernie said. “Yeah, I’ll do it.”
“Don’t let her get lost like I did,” Maxwell said. He hung up the phone.
The gas attendant met him on the way to the car. “Six ninety-three,” he said.
Maxwell pulled a ten from his jacket pocket and handed it to him. “No change, mate.” He got into the driver’s seat and looked to the sun visor, where the Polaroid of him and Miranda on his motorcycle was pinned. He stared at the photo for a moment before wiping a tear away and starting the engine.
“Only a few more miles now, Miss McCullen,” he told his spectral passenger.
Dark Arts Page 25
