DARK VISIONS

by James Byron Huggins

  Poe was a bodyguard who would never know fear, who would never flag or fail, who would always watch over her, who would never sleep, who would see in others what they couldn’t see in themselves. She had truly come to believe that the raven knew things beyond the reach of the human mind. Poe simply had the God-given ability to look into someone’s soul. She couldn’t explain it, but she knew it was true and that was enough.

  They stood within the crypt.

  “Professor?” said Joe Mac.

  “I am here,” he replied.

  “Stay beside me. We’ll follow the others.”

  “As you say.”

  Joe Mac’s brick-silhouette turned minutely toward Marvin.

  “Marvin?” he said with a voice next to silence. “Marvin, you lead the way. Steve, you stay behind him. And you’re next, Jodi.” His barrel chest expanded with a breath. “When we reach the cavern just walk out amongst them but stick close to each other. Professor, you’ll lead me to the inner circle of those stones.”

  “I don’t know if that’s possible,” the professor objected. “I don’t know how they choose those who enter the inner circle. They may have rules we don’t understand, and, if we violate those rules, they’ll know we are intruders and promptly attack.” He raised both hands as if to form a box. “You must not underestimate the suspicions of these people. They have remained hidden for a thousand years. They know how to detect an enemy.”

  “We have to take our chances,” Joe Mac said. “Put on your masks.” After masks were in place he said, “Find a large stone and prop it in the door.”

  “Why?” asked Professor Graven.

  “To keep the door open,” said Joe Mac cryptically. “Prop the stone in the door, so it can’t shut behind us.”

  A shadow made Jodi turn, and she saw Marvin walk out the entrance of the tomb. He returned carrying a section of branch she remembered seeing when they’d come here in the daylight. Marvin pushed the crypt fully open and wedged the wood in the joint where the lid of the sarcophagus joined the wall; it was the same principle as wedging a pencil in the hinge of a door, although the pencil is small it could defeat a door a thousand times its size just by where it was set against the joint.

  “I fixed it, Joe,” he said. “And it looks like it could have happened naturally. Nobody will be suspicious if they come up behind us.”

  Joe Mac nodded, “Good enough.” He stared over them. “Listen. Sometimes plans go to Hell. If that happens, just remember that your priority is saving this kid. So just keep shooting, keep moving. Kill anybody that gets in your way. And forget mercy. They ain’t gonna show you none.” He took a slow breath. “Remember, winning ain’t always living. Dying ain’t always losing. On the last day, you can die and still win all there is to win.” He lifted his face, as if looking into another world. “All right … it’s time.”

  The long walk through the tunnel, uphill and down, felt all too brief to Jodi, who was hoping the walk was all they would face tonight. Then, in the distance, she began to hear the quietest murmur and knew they were almost at the cavern. She resisted the temptation to reach within the cloak and grip the Glock.

  They were all fully armed beneath the robes, but no one would know until the last moment. The professor had easily concealed the elephant gun within his robe simply by slinging it across his back; the priestly cloaks were so voluminous that the old man could have borne three rifles without any revealing ridges. Marvin and Brightbarton were similarly armed with the M-4s, which were ridiculously easy to conceal.

  She had only brought the Glock, but the pistol fired seventeen-round magazines, and she had ten extra magazines. If that wasn’t enough to see them safely out of this mess another forty magazines wouldn’t make any difference. On some level that she barely understood, Jodi sensed that firepower wouldn’t be what saved them tonight, anyway; this night belonged to a power she felt but didn’t understand. She only knew it was as real as the wind that lifted Poe into the clouds or lowered him to the Earth.

  Marvin entered the chamber.

  They followed, and the scene was hellish and despairing.

  At least three hundred soundless, melancholic shapes draped in black robes with human skulls tied to their knife-bearing belts crept through the oppressive tombstone shadows of Stonehenge. Demonic masks concealed their faces, but their eyes glinted, red, in the flames. Uncountable sheep and goats dangled dead on black rope strung lintel to lintel, gaping throats choked with blood. Then Jodi saw human skulls strung like ornaments for the most unholy holiday; they were elaborately suspended, staring with empty eyes. They were piled in four pyramids as high as a man. And they were laid in a continuous connecting circle around the innermost stones as if to curse all who enter here.

  If the gates of Hell do exist, they look like this, thought Jodi.

  Only then did Jodi reflect that Marvin had entered this nightmarish gathering without revealing the most minute doubt. By now the archeologist had reached the rim of the crowd and was threading a casual path through them as if this was his most familiar ground; one would have never guessed that only three days ago this man had been consigned for life to a dungeon of dry bones and dusty rock.

  By reflex Jodi began searching for whatever figure might be the high priest of this underground field of cannibals, but she saw no one noteworthy. They all seemed the same; they were all savagely adorned like barbarians after a feast of rape and theft and murder; they each wore demonic masks of horrific distortion.

  When they reached the Stonehenge monument Marvin stopped with his head slightly bent. He waited until the rest reached his side and began walking to the right, slowly circling the tiers. Glancing to the side, Jodi saw the Bloodstone positioned directly in the center of the pillars. It was flat like a table and reddened by whatever ghastly rites had preceded them to this night. But at the same time she saw something else that overwhelmed her mind.

  In the middle of the inner circle stood a wooden figure of a man.

  The Wicker Man …

  It was ten feet in height and pieced together with what looked like thousands of dry tree limbs. It was a boxlike representation of a human being with square arms that stuck straight out from the shoulders. Its legs were built from thicker sticks and the torso was only a rectangular box; the head also appeared to be a box but Jodi wasn’t certain because they had draped a black shroud over the face and neck.

  In the wavering light of rising flames Jodi determined that the wood wasn’t painted or in any way refined for the creation of a work of art. Rather, the whole of the Wicker Man was crude, ugly, and savage. It was a god of the base wickedness of the human soul and not meant to represent anything in the way of life. It was a god built to satisfy the most obscene hungers of the most primitive mind of Man.

  At the base of the grotesque idol was a massive circular mound of firewood that might burn for days and days – long after the idol itself, and whatever had been imprisoned within it, was reduced to ashes.

  Jodi shivered and prayed no one noticed. She resisted the temptation to look back; she had to trust that Joe Mac and Professor Graven were close.

  Don’t turn …

  Trust your instincts …

  Before she could stop herself, Jodi turned her head and confirmed they weren’t more than three strides from her, and they appeared harmless and at home.

  Jodi had no doubt that if she had removed her mask her horror would be vividly displayed for all to see, and the game would instantly be up. She was thankful for whatever bizarre and arcane reason dictated they conceal their identities; it was the only thing keeping her alive although she was certain that Marvin could have seamlessly wound his way through this cannibal coven without raising an alarm if he had cast away his mask.

  She began to study the room from a tactical angle. The monument of Stonehenge stood one hundred yards from the tunnel. The rest of the chamber was empty a
nd flat. There were no granite blocks they could use for cover once the fighting started. The only protection would be the pillars of Stonehenge itself, and those would do them no good because they had to make a hasty retreat from it once Joe Mac grabbed the high priest.

  Overall, it was a tactical nightmare; the only way to get clear of the gunfire would be straight through it.

  Even in her considerations Jodi had not lost sight of Marvin and Captain Brightbarton. She saw they had positioned themselves very close to the Wicker Man and were standing with heads down and hands clasped as if in meditation. But from the angle of the Brightbarton’s head Jodi perceived he was measuring the place for tactics, as well. Then she noticed black-draped shapes filtering through the pillars and turned her face to Joe Mac and the professor as they simply walked into the inner space of the monument.

  Gazing steadily over those who were entering the inner sanctum, Jodi saw nothing notable about the shapes that would designate them for some solemn possession not granted to others. In the identical black robes and interchangeable masks, it seemed like anyone could approach The Wicker Man and so she stepped forward. Then she was standing as close as she dared and saw that Joe Mac and Professor Graven had done the same; they stood a short four strides from the idol.

  Although Jodi had feared they would be called upon to participate in some incomprehensible ritual certain to reveal her as an imposter, nothing happened as they closed the circle. Then others formed a larger circle and, last, still others formed a large cordon around the entire monument.

  Jodi had estimated three hundred of them, and now it appeared to be even more but it didn’t matter whether it was three hundred or three thousand.

  They had a plan, and they were committed.

  She searched for guards but saw none and assumed everyone was armed and more than willing to kill an intruder. It seemed appropriate to assume that each would be as deadly as the other since they were universally bound to this most horrible of all rituals and this most savage of all sins.

  An approach …

  Moving only her eyes Jodi saw a large shape nearing the Bloodstone. She narrowly glanced at Joe Mac and saw the professor briefly tilt his head; he appeared to be giving Joe a play by play of the proceedings.

  Joe Mac subtly turned an ear toward the figure.

  With reverence the herculean Druid stopped before the Bloodstone. His mask was blood red and his sash was blood red with a long black knife slid beneath it.

  “This child is the last,” the Ri announced. “Never again shall we be forced to hide in the caverns of the Earth where we have been so wrongfully hounded and persecuted. Never again shall we be forced to conceal our birthright, which is rightfully ours. We will rebuild what was destroyed by hate and intolerance. And we will again worship in freedom and take our rightful place among the powers of this world.”

  A dozen Druids holding torches stepped to the Wicker Man.

  “Remove the shroud!” he shouted.

  A Druid tore the black shroud from the idol and Jodi gasped.

  Within the Wicker Man’s open head was the pale and innocent face of a helpless boy. Jodi saw red rope encircling his neck and more rope wrapped around each shoulder to tightly imprison him inside the idol.

  He’s already inside it!

  Tommy Childers was unconscious; Jodi knew that much in the split-second she saw his small head bent forward just as she knew he would have been screaming if he were awake. But, even so, she was certain that whatever drug they had given him would be neutralized by the fire once it reached his body and his hideous screams would begin.

  They would not deprive themselves of his agony and horror.

  She cut her eyes to Joe Mac who had his ear turned to the Bloodstone as the High Priest raised his arms high. Then, moving with steps that were almost no movement at all, Jodi began to inch her way even closer to the Wicker Man.

  “But first we must first purity our ritual!” the Ri shouted.

  Jodi had no idea how she knew … but she knew.

  “Intruders are among us!” the priest cried and began to turn. “And they must be destroyed before we offer up our sacrifice!”

  Jodi’s heart was instantly so thunderously fast that she glanced to either side to see if anyone noticed. Then she realized with a shock that she had already slid her hand into her robe and was fiercely gripping the Glock.

  If this maniac pointed toward anyone on the team, it was on.

  Suddenly the High Priest spun and pointed at Joe Mac.

  “Seize him!”

  Joe Mac ripped out the .45 and fired. The bullet hit the High Priest in the chest and Joe Mac continued from a classic shooting stance. He fired six more rounds and, unless Jodi lost sight in the ensuing rush, every bullet found its mark.

  The priest staggered back and crashed across the cavern floor.

  Jodi spun and shot the closest priest holding fire to the Wicker Man in the back of the head and, as a second priest turned, Jodi jammed the barrel of the Glock in his face and pulled the trigger. Then the other Druids hurled their torches into the mound of wood at the idol’s feet and spun away, instantly running.

  Jodi shoved the Glock into her belt and leaped to land on the chest of the Wicker Man, her hands gripping the open face. With a frantic scream, she surged back to rip the sticks away, but they were tied together tightly and in the split-second she realized she didn’t have the strength to tear Tommy free.

  Flames exploded, consuming the robe on her back, and Jodi screamed as she stumbled away. Then she was rolling across the cavern floor twisting frantically to tear the flaming sheet over her head; she finally ripped it off and hurled it to the side as she glimpsed a figure coming down on top of her.

  An enraged Druid raised a butcher knife.

  A muzzle flare erupted behind the Druid’s head and he fell forward like a tree to hit the floor beside Jodi’s face. She glared up to see …

  “Come on!” Marvin shouted as he hauled her to her feet.

  “I can’t get him out!” Jodi screamed. “He’s tied to it!”

  Marvin’s reaction wasn’t a tenth of a second as he stooped and snatched up the dead Druid’s butcher knife. He ran forward, over the blocks of wood that had begun to burn, and slashed fiercely at the ropes holding the sticks together while simultaneously tearing at them with his free hand.

  Flames set Marvin’s robe on fire as he wrenched the entire chest from the idol, and then he reached into the husk and, with three swift slashes, Tommy Childers’s small body collapsed forward. Marvin caught him and turned, easily leaping over the flaming mound, and tossed him into Jodi’s arms.

  Marvin snatched off the robe going fully up in flame and hurled it aside with a reviling hand. Teeth bared, he ripped an M61 hand grenade from his waist, charged back to the face of the Wicker Man, and smashed the grenade into its guts.

  Jodi heard his words …

  “Sacrifice this!”

  Marvin leaped back and Jodi dropped to the floor, instantly bending to protect Tommy with her body. Then in the next second there was a cavern-shaking blast and a hurricane of flaming wooden shards exploded in every direction slashing through Druids to sever heads and arms and legs with what had been the Wicker Man.

  Howls of agony erupted, and Jodi whirled to see a dozen priests rolling on the cavern floor with arms and legs broken and twisted. Even more priests were running wildly across the inner circle, their robes fully aflame. Then something told her to look back, and she saw a priest almost on top of her with an upraised blade.

  Brightbarton came out of nowhere, firing over her body.

  The priest was blown backwards.

  “Protect the kid!” roared Brightbarton, and then he was forced to return fire with the M-4 as fast as he could pull the trigger.

  “Down!” Marvin yelled again and flung one of the M61 grenades toward a c
rowd rushing from the far end of the monument. The grenade landed inside the racing wave of rising rifle barrels and the blinding-white explosion hurled black and red carcasses against the pillars of their resurrected Stonehenge like spatters of paint.

  Thrown by the detonation, a perfect mushroom of fire hit the cavern ceiling, erupted outward and descended in a blast trapped by the granite to flood over robed figures who threw up arms howling with horror.

  Jodi stood, placing a foot on either side of Tommy’s body, and knew she wouldn’t be moved; she decided that much in the moment and with remarkable ease just as she knew there would be no regrets. She chose in a single breath to make her last stand right here, right now, live or die.,

  Priests were ferociously firing on them and Brightbarton bellowed as he was hit and slammed onto his back. With an enraged expression, he grabbed an edge of the Bloodstone with a single hand and pulled himself to his feet, firing the M-4 as he rose.

  The cavern was a holocaust of gunfire with figures shooting in every direction, and then Jodi lost sight of Marvin and Brightbarton as she heard Professor Graven bellow, and she whirled; the old man staggered forward, dropping the elephant gun, and fell on his face. Beside him Joe Mac collided with a knife-wielding Druid.

  Joe Mac raised the .45 between them and fired three times. The attacker collapsed forward holding his chest. Then a half dozen Druids leaped atop Joe Mac bearing him to the cavern floor, and Jodi raised the Glock for a shot but was afraid she’d hit Joe Mac. In the next moment gun blasts exploded in the center of the pile, and the attackers began to shout and fall back one by one until Joe Mac surged up, the .45 in his hand.

  Jodi glanced down to make sure she still straddled Tommy’s small body. Then a bullet cut across her cheek knocking her off balance; she rolled with the impact the same way a boxer rolls with a punch and when she came around she was already firing. She saw her rounds hit two of them.

  Both twisted, leaping, before going down to the floor.