The Awakening

by Rain Oxford

  “The same is true in cases of possession. Emotional power is built up in the mind of the exorcist, then released into the possessed through religious symbolism and ritual, driving out the offending demon.”

  “Okay, okay.” Mike’s patience was dwindling rapidly. “To get back to the problem, do you think there might be a connection between what’s been going on and this book? Maybe some maniac is out sacrificing people to the great spirit toad on a pedestal, or something.”

  “As far as the book itself goes, it means little. I have several much like it myself, and I assure you, I’m not merrily dashing about, removing people’s hearts. But if I were to tell you that there might be some supernatural cause for your trouble, would you believe me?”

  “In a pig’s butt!”

  “You have a mind like a steel trap, sheriff,” the old man smiled. “Always ready to spring shut. But, then again, I will not blame you in this matter.”

  “If there was something like that out there, how could anyone get rid of it?” Ann asked.

  “That, I don’t know. No ‘civilized’ man does. Man knows nothing about the universe he lives in, yet he considers himself ultimately intelligent. A power equal or greater than their own would be necessary, and without understanding them…”

  “How about importing a witch-doctor?” Parker laughed.

  “That, believe it or not, is the best suggestion yet. My congratulations, Parker.”

  “Just for the sake of argument,” Mike said, “Is there anything in that book that says how to send those monsters back to where they came from? Assuming that it really was Halloween?”

  “Not that I found. If there were at all, I would venture to say that it would be in the other half of the book that we do not possess. And, if you do happen to find the other half, I would very much like to see it.”

  Mike stood up wearily, making it obvious that he considered the conversation to be at its end. “Thank you for your time, but I don’t think we’re going to be needing any witch-doctor. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m sure it isn’t something from the black beyond.”

  “Tell me, sheriff…” Wittakin asked as the group asked the group was preparing to leave. “When you brought the book here this evening, just what were you expecting it to be?”

  “I really don’t know what I expected. But I was hoping that whatever it was, it might help save somebody’s life.”

  * * *

  They drove towards town for several minutes before Parker broke the silence.

  “See? I told you he was off his rocker, talking about spooks and goblins. Next he’s gonna say he’s got a real live vampire sleeping in a coffin in his cellar.”

  “I don’t think he’s crazy. I think he’s very intelligent, and very lonely,” Ann said.

  “You don’t mean you believe that stuff?”

  Ann hesitated. “No, but then he didn’t say he believed in it either. After all, we took the book to him, he didn’t bring it to us. We asked, and he just told us what he knew about it.”

  “And we sure picked a good night for it,” Derek added. “This weather is bad enough to make you believe anything, even ghost stories. By the way, has anybody heard a weather report lately?”

  Mike answered by turning on the car radio. It hummed and crackled senselessly as he spun through the dial twice. He shut it off.

  “I’ve listened for it several times; all I ever get is static. There’s not a radio or television in town that brings in anything but this crap. It must be from this lightning and stuff.”

  “It’s odd that this storm could cause so much interference…”

  “Don’t say it has something to do with the supernatural,” Mike said wryly. “If that’s what I thought, I’d go home and sit in a tub full of holy water clutching a cross with a bible over my head. No, thanks.”

  They laughed, finishing the drive into town in lighter spirits. Mike let Derek and Ann off at the hotel, and he and Parker drove away, mud splashing from the tires.

  The lobby of the hotel was empty and quiet. Ann sighed, pulling her coat tighter around her, and went to the open door to watch the brooding darkness outside. Derek lit a cigarette and studied her for a moment.

  “Worried?”

  “What? Oh, yeah, I guess so.” Derek stood beside her, and she leaned her head against his shoulder, still watching the pouring rain. “I wish I could hear from my folks.”

  “I know. They’re probably worried about you, too.”

  Ann looked at her watch. It was almost ten-thirty. “Are you tired, Derek?”

  “No, not really. Why?”

  “I’m feeling sort of restless, and I was wondering if you would drive out to my place with me. I was out there this afternoon, but I was in such a hurry I forgot to do a couple of things. I really don’t want to go out there alone while it’s dark.”

  “Sure, I’d be glad to. And I don’t blame you for wanting company.”

  * * *

  Ann drove the car slowly but expertly, skirting around most of the small rivers the rain had cut in the road. It was obvious that another day or two of rain would leave most of the local roads impassable. The headlights made foggy, wavering tunnels in the darkness.

  “Derek, now that those two aren’t around to make jokes, what do you really think? About what Dr. Wittakin said, I mean.”

  Ann’s tone was serious, and Derek was slow to answer. “I think he believed what he was saying, and a lot of it made sense. I’d hate to think he was right, but it would explain some things.”

  Ann shivered, despite the car’s warm interior. “It gives me the creeps just thinking about it!”

  She turned the car into the short driveway and parked as close as possible to the front of the house. A yellow anti-bug light glowed on the porch, throwing long wet shadows behind the bushes and posts.

  “I’m glad you came with me,” Ann said, gesturing toward the house. “I’d have taken one look at those shadows over there and gone straight back to the hotel. Well, let’s go. There isn’t too much to do.”

  With Derek helping, they were finished in a few minutes. Some of the work was outside, and by the time they got in out of the rain, they were soaked. Ann found two towels and tossed one to Derek. He began drying his hair and peered at her from under the towel.

  “Does the lady want I should make fire?” he asked, using the only accent he knew; garden variety Igor.

  Ann laughed. “Yes, the lady would like that, I think. The wood’s over there. Be back in a minute.”

  Derek began building a fire in the large stone fireplace, and by the time he had it going to his satisfaction, Ann returned with two tinkling glasses.

  “Thought you might want something to drink,” Ann said, handing him one of the glasses. “It’s Brandy. It’ll help take some of the chill out.”

  Derek sensed rather than heard the slight hesitation in her voice, and he watched her thoughtfully as she sat on the carpet beside him. They were very close to the fire, and he could see highlights of gold and red move through her hair. An old, empty feeling crept through his chest. He thought of the last two years, spent drifting over half of the country trying to convince himself that he was happy. Hell, a blind man could see it; I’m afraid. If I don’t stand up for what I want, I fall down, right?

  Ann stretched her legs out and leaned her head against his shoulder, sighing. The scent of her damp hair was warm, and he kissed the top of her head gently.

  “What are you thinking about?” Her voice was soft. She turned so she could see his face.

  “About you.” He brushed the tip of her nose with his lips. “And about where I fit in, I guess.”

  “Where do you want to fit in?” Her eyes were deep in the dim light, her voice low and serious. After a moment, she rested her head on his chest. He could feel her warm breath through his shirt. “Derek?” Her voice was a soft whisper.

  “Yes?”

  “Make love to me. Do you want me?”

  “Yes, I want yo
u.” Derek could feel her small body tremble in his arms. He raised her face to his with one hand and kissed her, long and gently. “Yes, I want you very, very much.”

  * * *

  Three miles away, Dr. Wittakin sat staring into his own fire. He as deep in thought, a forgotten book lying open on his lap. His mind kept wandering over the discussion he had had with Mike’s small group; there was something about it that made him feel uneasy. Very uneasy.

  The trouble was simple; he didn’t know. No one did. A practical mind liked practical answers. Something that can be dealt with in the form of formula and statistics. How about a bit of binomial expansion? Please, Mr. Spirit, step into my lab and allow us to conduct a comprehensive analysis on you in the name of science and our meager sanity…

  …For I am the sworn enemy of ignorance. I am the Teacher, here to guide and educate. Educate. Latin. E—out. Ducere—to lead. To lead out (of darkness?) The darkness is thick, it is malignant. From darkness ye were made and to darkness ye shall return. Take my hand, for I shall guide you. Do not tremble so, for it makes your claws click… my word!...

  A knot of pitch snapped in the fire, and the old man sat up, startled. He shook his head and inhaled softly. You old fool, you’re going senile. That’s how it is; first weak in the knees, then weak in the head. He tucked the blanket tighter around his legs and pulled another book from the shelf.

  * * *

  Mike Dunns put the last touches on a short, makeshift report and tucked it into a manila envelope. He let it lay on the desk top, time to time flipping unconsciously over its edge with his thumb. It wasn’t really a report; it was a list of questions. Lots of questions, no answers.

  He lit a cigarette, letting the harsh smoke drag through his irritated throat, then crossed the small office and opened the front door. The force of the rain had slackened for the moment, but it still held a depressive feeling that seeped into his body. He scowled, thinking. After a moment he flicked the half-finished cigarette out into the darkness.

  He was afraid. This was his town, the town where he lived and enforced the law, and he held the responsibility of making it a good town and a good place to live. Only people weren’t living, they were dying.

  He lit another cigarette and stood watching the rain. Waiting.

  * * *

  Derek lay on his bed in his dark hotel room. He looked closely at the luminous dial of his watch; it was almost four o’clock, but he didn’t feel at all sleepy. There was too much to think about, too much to sort out. And if he didn’t work things out in his head soon, he might just find himself between the proverbial rock and a hard place.

  When he left Ann at the door of her hotel room, he hadn’t wanted to let her go. He loved her. Not deeply, but it was love nevertheless, and he knew it would grow if he let it. He didn’t know if that was a good thing for either one of them.

  He had been so busy chasing his personal shadow dragon with his shiny sword edged with bitterness that he hadn’t seen where the dragon was leading him. Possibly straight to its cave, where it had a nice little trap set for him. Presto! Derek a ‘la King. And if not, what? Derek had a mental image of himself as an old bearded man in an antique Plymouth convertible wheelchair, zipping around cackling gleefully waving a bent and rusty sword. It was not a vision that he relished.

  He had enjoyed at least a superficial security in wandering from place to place, grabbing madly for a roadmap at the first signs of commitment for any reason, but this growing involvement with Ann was a direct threat to that security. The way he had been going, nobody but himself could get hurt. But with Ann, it was a different matter altogether.

  He wondered for a moment if he had unintentionally taken advantage of her, considering her worry and need for reassurance. That was another problem. He wasn’t sure how she felt, or what she had in mind. Women had never thrown themselves at him, to say the least, so the idea that Ann might find him attractive surprised him.

  He fell asleep with that pleasing thought on his mind.

  Chapter 5

  It was noon when Derek entered the diner, and he was still slightly groggy from his long sleep. He dropped into a chair near the counter. The waitress was just leaving with his order when Mike’s big body appeared across the table from him.

  “Mind if I join you, Mr. Hanen?” The question really wasn’t one, but Derek smiled. Mike was the kind of man that was going to do what he wanted, do it now, and any questions were going to be an afterthought.

  “No, I don’t mind, and the name is Derek. Making any progress on this thing yet?”

  Mike shook his head. “No. I feel like I’m playing some kind of nasty game and I don’t know the roles. All of us are. And the worst part is I don’t even know who in the hell we’re playing this game with. I’ve gone over every part and piece having anything to do with this crap, and all I’ve come up with is that I can’t come up with anything. I need to know more, before somebody else gets killed.”

  “If there’s any way you think I can help you, I’d be glad to do what I can.”

  “Maybe there is. That’s really what I wanted to talk to you about. When you found the Tomalo boy, was there anything, anything at all, that might tell us something about what happened? Did you see or hear anything out of place?”

  Derek thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No, nothing I can think of. We were in pretty much of a hurry to get him to the doctor’s. You’ve been out there, haven’t you?”

  “Yeah, I have, but I didn’t find a thing.” Mike looked down at his coffee for a few seconds, then back at Derek. “I’m thinking of going back out there today, and I wondered if you’d go along. You know, to show me how everything was and to recreate the scene, so to speak. Shouldn’t take too long.”

  “Sure, I don’t know why not.”

  Derek wolfed down his breakfast and a couple of scalding cups of coffee. He felt much better and almost awake by the time they got to Mike’s car.

  The rain had fallen off to a light drizzle during the night, but the sky was still dark and heavy with the promise of more to come. The air was wet and cold. Derek hoped fervidly that Mike’s driving was good enough to keep them from getting stuck in any one of the innumerable bad places in the road. Mike was hoping the same thing.

  Behind them the buildings of the town dwindled into the grey haze and then disappeared altogether. Derek settled into the seat and looked ahead. It wasn’t far to the part of the river where he and parker had been fishing, but it seemed to take much longer than it should have. He was about to ask Mike if they hadn’t possibly taken a wrong turn when Mike eased the car into a small clearing by the side of the river. It was the place alright, but it took him a few moments before he began to recognize anything. Despite the rain, it didn’t look green and inviting anymore. It looked dead.

  Mike shut off the engine and leaned back in the seat. He rummaged for a cigarette, found one and lit it, then waved it at the sky through the windshield. “Damn rain, I don’t think it’ll ever quit. It just keeps coming down, making everything miserable. I’ve been thinking lately, if I was a few years under forty instead of a bunch of years over it, I’d chuck all of this and hop a freight for Miami. Still might, after all this is over. Trouble is, I’ve been in this town for a long time. It doesn’t make a good flyspeck of the map, but I like it and the people in it. I’ve been meaning to ask you, call it professional curiosity or plain nosiness, what’s it like traveling around as much as you do? And why?”

  Derek gave a wry shrug and watched the rivulets of water run down the glass. “The ‘why’ is fairly easy; a couple of bad breaks and a bum marriage as much my fault as anyone else’s. As to what it’s like…” He shook his head and sighed. “It was interesting at first, until one morning I woke up and it was a habit. If I had money, I’d travel, and if I didn’t, I’d work until I did. There are a lot of places that I passed through that the only thing I could tell you about was the color of the road signs.”

  “What happens when yo
u run into a girl? Like Ann.”

  Okay, now we get to it. “Nothing. Meaning that it didn’t happen, at least until now. I’m not out to get even, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Just for the record, I like that girl. And if I was younger, I might just lock you up to keep the field clear. Nothing personal, you understand. As it is, I’m just watching.”

  Derek grinned. “That’s fair enough. I like the idea of someone watching over her. But for now it’s Ann calling the shots, and I’m doing things her way. Believe it or not, I like her a lot and I don’t want to see her hurt either. Okay?”

  “Okay. Well, let’s get this little show over. We’re going to get wet before we get dry, so let’s do it.”

  They started where Derek and Parker first began fishing, then sloshed across the shallowest part of the river to the area he had been when he first saw the boy. Derek told Mike what he could remember. Mike pushed his way through a few bushes, getting nothing but scratches for his trouble. Derek led the way back across the river to the spot where he had tried to resuscitate the boy, but there was nothing left to show that anyone had even been there.

  They decided to search the banks of the river in both directions, Derek above and Mike below, and meet back at the car when they were done. The rain was beginning to soak through Derek’s jacket and he shifted it uncomfortably. He made his way carefully along the river bank, picking his path through the clinging wet brush.

  After twenty minutes of fruitless searching, he gave up and started back to the car. A protruding root caught his foot before he had taken a dozen steps, dumping him hand first into the mud. He groaned and got up, systematically cursing the state, town, weather, broken car, river, Mike, the root in particular, and his bad luck in general. He moved to the shallow edge of the river and was just about to plunge his hands into the water when he noticed a dull reflection; there was something half buried in the sand at the bottom. Derek slipped his jacket off one arm, rolled up his sleeve, and reached through the icy water.