The Raven Mocker: Evil Returns (Cades Cove Series #2)

by Aiden James

  “No!” she shouted, defiant. Like David, she pulled at the strap holding her wrists. “Take me instead, and let the others return home—Please!!”

  “Oh-h-h, Two Doves Rising…what an interesting offer you make!” he replied, moving to the front of the altar. “But, what have you to barter with? You’re already mine…mine to do with as I please!”

  He chuckled, soulless and without warmth. His grin widened into an impossibly broad smile, exposing all of his blood drenched teeth. They glowed eerily from the strange blue light. Even so, Evelyn strained against her bonds, desperate to shield her younger sister. Miriam wept along with her, trying to scoot closer to Hanna while David looked on, frustrated he could do little to stop this. Something even worse was about to befall them, he could feel it, like the air changing just before a spring rain.

  Teutates raised his right hand above his head, the one not holding the scepter, and clicked his saber-like fingernails together.

  “Galutsv!” Come!

  A rustling noise emanated from beyond the doorway, and a large ink-like shadow moved into the room, separating into two distinct human shapes that approached Teutates. By the time they reached the altar, the specters had solidified, taking on the appearance of Native American warriors. Colorless though well defined, the pair kneeled before their master.

  “Bring me…that one,” he instructed.

  But instead of pointing the scepter at Hanna, he chose Miriam.

  David’s heart sank. He fought in desperation to free his wrists from his bonds, chaffing the skin to where his wrists bled.

  “No…take the one whose family created this mess in the first place!” he cried out. “It should be me, and me alone, Teutates! Only the slimiest slug would pick on a woman!!”

  It almost worked. The blue eyes glowed with heated anger, focused completely on him. But soon the amused grin returned, and the warriors turned to face them, wearing menacing scowls beneath empty eye sockets.

  “Ayohisdi nasgi ageyv!!”

  Miriam shrieked in terror as the two phantoms leaped to where she sat, slicing away her bonds and dragging her up to the altar. David screamed for them to bring her back, pleading again to take him instead, while Evelyn shouted a litany of Cherokee curses.

  Teutates chuckled, and then threw his head back…. Shrill, cackling laughter echoed throughout the entire room.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  A pair of tan Chevy Tahoe’s pulled up to John’s cabin just before dawn. He stood waiting by the front door, dressed in a yellow snowsuit, thick gloves, and knee-high thermal boots. Carrying his briefcase and Evelyn’s laptop, he approached the lead vehicle from the Sevier County Sheriff’s Department.

  “Sorry we’re running late,” said Butch Silva, after he rolled his window down. “We didn’t finish marking the site where that family from Oregon disappeared the other night until about thirty minutes ago. Last night’s heavy snowfall made it that much worse.”

  “I understand,” said John.

  Immediate images of a couple and their two kids briefly flashed across his mind’s eye. They had disappeared while hiking near Abrams Falls in Cades Cove. He saw their pictures last night on TV, missing since Tuesday. They’re dead—murdered by ‘him’!

  “Charley and Chris are coming with us,” Butch advised, motioning to the deputies in the truck behind him. “We’re bringing two snowmobiles along, just in case we need ‘em. Snow pack’s a bit deep in parts of the cove, so we’ll see. Go ahead and get in.”

  John climbed into the passenger seat, setting the laptop between him and the sheriff. After removing his gloves, he opened the briefcase.

  “I brought along some interesting items that Evelyn was researching when she disappeared,” he explained. “I’ll fill you in on everything on the way there.”

  “Sounds good.” Butch gave the ten-four signal to Charley Peacock and the vehicles headed toward the road that would take them deeper into the state park. “You told me on the phone that you want to visit John Oliver’s cabin. Correct?”

  “Yes,” John confirmed. “Our destination is the old ravine not far from there.”

  “The one we used to take the girls to when we were kids?” Butch looked surprised.

  “That’s the place,” said John, smiling wanly. “Do you remember when the university dug up some remains from the ravine last month?”

  “Yeah, vaguely.”

  “Well…what’s been going on lately around here is somehow related to that.” John glanced over at him, gauging his reaction. Butch didn’t give an indication one way or another, though John sensed his willingness to hear more. “Including what became of the family you mentioned earlier.”

  They had reached the end of Beaver Falls Trail, the road that in reality was just a very long driveway to John’s cabin. Butch shot John another surprised look. Only this time, he looked uneasy. Something about what they found earlier that morning, at the missing family’s campsite.

  Very bad…lots of blood in the snow.

  Butch didn’t reply, other than a thoughtful nod while turning onto Pine View Road. He didn’t say anything until they were back on Cades Cove’s main thoroughfare and had almost reached the Oliver property. John wanted to tell him what he’d learned about the monster, Teutates. But once he realized they would likely arrive at their destination before he could finish, he decided to wait. Plenty of time to go over this later…as long as they didn’t encounter the damned raven mocker.

  That’s what it is! Something that sucks the life out of the weak and frail….

  “John Oliver’s place should be just up ahead,” Butch advised, clearing his throat. “Now…you said something about the university’s forensic team digging up some remains recently…. Why would that have anything to do with the missing family I mentioned?”

  “It has to do with the ancient knowledge of my people,” said John. “Something woke up out there, when Peter Kirkland and Walter Pollack decided to tear up the entire area looking for treasure, instead of keeping their excavation to where the murdered girl was buried, the one I told you about yesterday.”

  “And you believe this thing that woke up is running around killing folks, huh?”

  “Yes. I do.”

  John eyed him serious. Butch’s immediate response a snicker, he stifled it when he saw that John’s countenance remained stoic.

  “Well, good buddy… I’d hate to be the one to face some so-called ‘raven mocker’.” His efforts to maintain a solemn expression failed when he looked over at John again. He chuckled. “Yeah, I read that stuff I copied from Evelyn’s notepad again last night. I’m sorry. But that mo-jo nonsense doesn’t work for me…. On the other hand, if we find some trace of where your granddaughters and your friends from Colorado disappeared to, it’ll be worth the trip out here this morning.”

  John nodded, thoughtful, and leaned forward in the passenger seat. He worried that his friend’s nonchalant attitude might come back to hurt them. Meanwhile, they reached the fork that would take them to the parking area just outside the Oliver site.

  “If not, well…it’ll mean I’ll have to come up with a serious explanation as to why I dragged two of my best deputies out here. That wouldn’t be good for you either, because—”

  “Stop, Butch, and look!” said John, pointing to the horizon at the edge of the snow covered meadow in front of John Oliver’s homestead. In the distance, beyond the entrance to the old, forgotten path, an orange haze brightened the early morning sky, like a forest fire. But this wasn’t a fire, John knew. In his mind’s eye, he saw what it meant…an amazing transformation had taken place in the ravine.

  Butch followed John’s gaze, pulling his Tahoe through two feet of snow and on up to the very same spot where just two month’s earlier David Hobbs had parked his rented LeSabre, the night he faced Allie Mae’s ghost alone. Charley brought the other vehicle up alongside his truck, cutting his engine.

  “Well, what the hell’s going on over there?” Butch whispered. C
harley and Chris had also noticed the glow on the horizon, both cursing under their breath. “I’ll call the Fire Department.”

  “No!” John stopped him from picking up his radio handset. “Not yet. Let’s make sure it’s a fire before we contact anyone else.”

  Butch eyed him suspiciously, but then relented. John hated using their friendship to seek leverage, but there wasn’t enough time to explain why he knew no natural flames threatened the pristine woodlands, a mile or so away.

  “I’m ready to get going,” he said, stepping out of the vehicle.

  He walked over to the short log barrier that separated the parking area from the meadow, blanketed in white, having received a foot of fresh powder since last night. A trail of faint footprints led from the edge of the parking area to where the trees separated, likely following the obscure path to the ravine.

  Someone’s already there…probably waiting for us!

  “Boys…it looks like we’ll need the snowmobiles after all,” Butch advised, after he and his two assistants joined him by the meadow’s edge. Chris Girard seemed barely old enough to be a policeman, with boyish good looks that made John wonder if he was the deputy that Evelyn mentioned when she visited him at the jail.

  Good kid…raised well by decent folk.

  Tiny, flurried snowflakes clung to Charley Peacock’s handlebar moustache. Blond with gray eyes, and a face destined from birth to become a grizzled lawman, he nodded to John before walking back to his truck to help Butch unhook the snowmobiles in the truck bed. Tinted Raybans shielded his eyes enough to where most folks could never guess his mood or thoughts. John knew he thought the trip out here pointless, but revered the sheriff for whom he’d worked these past eight years.

  “I’ll ride with Chris, and Charley will take you with him, John,” Butch advised once the Kawasakis were unloaded.

  Bright red and covered on all sides with orange reflective tape they looked almost brand new. Butch motioned for Charley and John to follow him and Chris. At Charley’s insistence, they brought a large bag of flame repellant, despite John’s repeated assurances that the glowing sky had nothing to do with a fire of any kind. The deputy responded with a snide look.

  The trucks locked up, Chris and Charley started up the snowmobiles and the group pursued the footprints across the meadow. The Oliver cabin sat off to the right, its snow covered roof and porch glistening from the morning’s first rays of sunlight. They soon reached the break in the tree line, where deep snowdrifts obscured the path leading to the ravine. The fiery glow seemed much more ethereal now, its source closer.

  The group paused before going further, but not because of this.

  “What the hell’s going on??”

  Butch posed the question while the engines idled softly. The ground rumbled ahead of them, the deep snow shifting amid swaying oaks, elms, and pines. The earth continued to shake until whatever approached from beneath the snow stopped, just a few feet away.

  A terrible foreboding threatened to suffocate John’s psyche. He looked around him, searching for whatever studied them…the presence keenly hostile. Even the others seemed to feel it, Butch and Charley’s expression perplexed and Chris’s countenance pale, fearful.

  John considered going back. But Evelyn and Hanna’s lives were worth far more than his own, not to mention David and Miriam. True, they might be dead…but he didn’t think so. It felt wrong…still incomplete.

  He stepped off the Kawasaki, his feet disappearing in snow up past his knees.

  “Ya’ll should go back,” he told them, and turned his attention to Butch, who urged him to get back on the snowmobile behind Charley so they could do just that. “I must go on…alone. If I find them all and make it back, then I’ll see you again soon, my friend. If not, know that I go in peace.”

  John turned away, the feeling of dire dread from a moment ago lessened, as if defeated by his determination to press forward. He began his solo trek to the ravine, struggling to move through more drifted snow.

  “Wait!”

  When John looked back, he saw Butch confer with his deputies for a moment and then Chris joined Charley on his snowmobile, turning the vehicle back toward the parking area. Once the two deputies were halfway across the meadow, Butch brought the other snowmobile over to John.

  “How long have we known each other?” asked Butch, his smile impish.

  “Going on fifty-two years, I’d say.” John returned his smile with a wry grin. “You don’t have to do this—”

  “The hell you say, buddy!” He revved the engine. “Climb aboard. For better or worse, I’m coming with you…. I just pray you know what the hell you’re doing, John.”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” John told him after a slight pause. “Now I’ve got six lives to worry about instead of five. Thanks.”

  “You just worry about finding your little girls and that couple from Colorado, and I’ll take care of my own ass!” Butch’s smile grew brighter, but his eyes revealed his unease. “You best get on this thing now, before the ground starts shaking again.”

  John hopped on behind him and the two continued together. The weird shifting beneath the snow remained quiet, though the air crackled with energy. The feeling of being watched and studied intensified as they moved ever closer to the ravine…almost suffocating. Meanwhile, the brightness in front of them grew to a near-blinding glare, obscuring most of the trees that lined both sides of the dormant streambed.

  When they reached the top of the ravine, Butch cut the engine. The dawn’s light filled the winter sky, and as it did the powerful radiance inside the ravine waned. What had been obscured was now clearly revealed. They could only stare.

  Tsvsgino.

  “What the hell is that thing??”

  Butch asked the question, while John considered the irony.

  Why, yes, good buddy, that ‘thing’ you see is an actual part of Hell, Hades or perhaps your Druid ancestors’ Realm of Darkness . Tsvsgino is my people’s name for the same place…where souls of the damned reside….

  The scaffolds and walkways from the University of Tennessee’s excavation in November lay scattered across the landscape. The circular, limestone structure jutting out of the ravine’s basin appeared responsible for this, its height rising above the surrounding tree line. At least sixty feet by John’s estimation and its width triple that guess.

  ‘Sort of looks like one of Suzanne’s cornmeal muffins she used to make, with a cylinder base and a big, mushroom-like puff on top. And the grayish upper-half reminds me of some sort of insect haven…. A giant wasp or hornet nest?

  “Hanna and Evelyn are in there,” he said, his tone subdued, unlike the debate raging inside his head. “I’m going in.”

  “That’s a bad idea, John—a very bad idea!”

  Butch glanced worriedly at him before returning his gaze to the garish structure before them, its hive-like top expanding and contracting, ever so slight.

  “The best thing—the smart thing to do is get some back-up in here right away!”

  John had already made up his mind. He wasn’t willing to wait…not with the minute chance of saving his granddaughters still viable, and hopefully for David and Miriam as well. But getting inside the thing looked like it might be a problem. There wasn’t an entrance, at least non obvious to his elderly eyes.

  It doesn’t matter—I’ll figure it out.

  He stepped off the snowmobile and moved toward the slope nearest to the nest-like structure. A buzzing sound drew his and Butch’s attention from behind…someone else was coming.

  “Well I’ll be goddamned!” said Butch, crackling a grateful smile. “Charley and Chris are back.”

  Fearing the two deputies might stop him, John waded through the snow until he reached the ravine’s basin. He moved as quickly as possible, stumbling and almost falling face first while he desperately sought an entrance. Butch shouted for him to come back, while his assistants scrambled down the ravine’s embankments to catch him. Their shouts much m
ore irritated than their boss’s, it provided motivation to move faster.

  Unfamiliar symbols covered the walls, aligned in winding designs, similar to what he discovered in his cabin’s guestroom yesterday. A sudden blast of air, warm with an odor of mildew, wafted toward him from above. The puffed-out gray section closest to him had expanded, looking like a giant paper lung, ventricles open. Was it breathing?

  Quick, Running Deer…step around to the other side, where the images are not so many.

  A small tunnel in the snow looked like it went all the way down into the limestone base. Meanwhile, the deputies reached the bottom of the ravine.

  No time left—need to get inside this thing, NOW!!

  He dropped to his knees, scooping away snow and ice with his hands. Ignoring Butch’s urgent shouts to stop and wait, John paused just long enough to cast a glance over his shoulder. As he feared, the two deputies had arrived, and now raced to stop him before he slid inside the tunnel. Just as they reached for him, two wispy phantom warriors appeared out of nowhere, instantly solidifying. Before either Charley or Chris could react, the warriors grabbed their arms and pulled them headfirst into the wall closest to him, leaving only the echoes from their shrill screams.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  If only I’d listened to David!

  The thought ripped through Miriam’s head. Still conscious, she wouldn’t be for much longer. The assault upon her mind and soul was unmatched by anything she’d ever experienced, and when it included her body, death would be assured.

  Teutates grinned, as if fully aware of the rampant images feeding her brain. His teeth still dripped with Dr. Kirkland’s blood as he drew closer. The stench of blood, raw flesh, and things long dead filled her nostrils. She tried to get away, but the guardians who brought her to this monster held her down, pressed against the marble altar. The table’s coldness aroused taut gooseflesh along her backside, from her neck to her ankles. But that was nothing compared to the sheer horror of lying in a pool of congealing human blood, along with small pieces of Teutates’ latest victims. Miriam fought to keep the vomit down, her jeans and sweater sopping up enough of the mess to where deep crimson crept toward the front of her garments.