Hallows Eve

by Bob Mayer

  The two waded into the Zulus. Several of the Grendels facing the main assault peeled off and joined them, forming a wall around the hole.

  Eagle realized the Shaka’s surprise left horn initial assault wasn’t what had drawn the Grendels back from the choke point. Something stronger than tactics.

  It was time.

  A small creature was crawling out of the watering hole. Three feet long, it was pulling itself out with inch long claws. It made it to firm ground and gingerly got to its feet.

  The monsters were birthing and soon there would be thousands.

  Salem Massachusetts, 31 October 1692 A.D.

  “I am sorry,” the girl whispered as Lara knelt next to her. “I was just trying to help.”

  The girl was on her back. Her arms and legs were stretched out akimbo, tied to stakes in the ground with cords. She was naked except for dirty pieces of cloth across her groin and breasts. Her hair had been roughly shorn, just stubble remaining. The stones were on a board that covered her chest and remained in place due to upright stakes on either side of her body.

  There were fourteen stones on the boards, ranging in size from a couple fist-sized ones to the bottom-most slab, a foot wide by two long and three inches thick.

  Lara reached out and began removing the stones .

  “More stones,” the girl repeated, her eyes closed, her lips dried and cracked. “Please. End it.”

  “Take it easy,” Lara said. “We’re here to help.”

  The girl’s eyelids fluttered open, revealing bright blue eyes. She squinted, trying to see in the early morning light. “Who are you?”

  “A friend,” Lara said. The download was giving her all sorts of tidbits about ‘pressing’, aka peine forte et dure , as the French called it, which made it sound interesting, like everything that was said in French. It was pretty obvious what the ultimate objective was: death. Slow death.

  “You gonna help?” Lara asked, looking up for Pandora.

  “It is not my place to interfere,” Pandora said.

  “You’re full of it,” Lara said. “And you said she was one of us.”

  “She is of the lineage of Atlantis,” Pandora said. “She has the blood. What her level of Sight is, I don’t know.”

  Lara had all the stones off, except for the last slab. “It will be all right,” she said to the girl. “I’m Lara.”

  The girl was breathing more deeply, although she winced every time she drew a breath. “I am Unity.”

  “Seriously? That’s your name?” Lara asked as at the same time she lifted the last stone off.

  Unity gasped as her chest fully expanded and she was able to freely breath.

  “How long were you here?” Lara asked as she removed the board. Unity was nothing but a waif, weighing no more than seventy pounds and probably just beginning her teen years. Lara couldn’t believe she’d survived this long with the weight upon her. She used her dagger to cut the cords to Unity’s wrists and ankles.

  “Today was the third day,” Unity said. She grunted with pain as she gingerly sat up.

  Lara took off her outer skirt and removed her cape. She helped Unity to her feet and put the clothes on her.

  “What are you doing?” A man’s voice called out. Three men, dressed in Puritan attire, came forward, one of them carrying a torch.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Lara saw a dark circle appear behind Pandora. Who stepped back, into it, and it snapped shut.

  “Thanks,” Lara muttered. “Not.”

  “A witch!” the man with the torch exclaimed. “Did you see?” he asked the other two .

  “She vanished,” one of them said.

  One of the men drew a sword. “Hold there,” he ordered.

  There were more voices and Lara and Unity were quickly surrounded by over fifty villagers, most of the men armed with swords or clubs.

  “There was another here!” the man with the torch called out. “Another witch. She vanished! We three saw it with our own eyes.”

  “As opposed to someone else’s eyes?” Lara said, but none of them heard her.

  A man dressed in a black robe pushed through the mob. “It is illegal to interfere in a decreed punishment. She has not pled.”

  The crowd murmured an assent. A dangerous murmur that was strongly tinged with the anger of ‘let’s lynch someone’.

  Lara could clearly see the rage, a bright red glow all around. “She can plead guilty or she can die?” Lara demanded. “What kind of justice is that?”

  “Silence girl,” Black Robe ordered. “Or you will suffer the same.”

  “I’ve suffered worse,” Lara said. “You’re all a bunch of crazies.”

  The closest man with a club raised it to strike, but Black Robe stopped him. “Hold, brother, hold.”

  The crowd was pushing forward. Unity was behind Lara, her hands on Lara’s shoulders. “Protect me, please.”

  With the coming dawn, and the cluster of torches, Lara could see more of the crowd. “Seriously? Pitchforks?”

  “By being released,” Black Robe said, “you are implicitly admitting your guilt, Unity Hale. You have determined your fate and that is death. Immediate death by hanging.” He pointed a long finger at Lara. “And you, stranger, by aiding her, show your guilt. You too shall hang.”

  The crowd approved, the way mobs do, with a roar of blood lust.

  “Not today,” Lara said. “I ain’t hanging today. Hung. Whatever.”

  “Please,” Unity whispered behind Scout. “Hanging will be fast.”

  Lara wasn’t sure if the please was asking for help or asking her to let them be hanged, but it didn’t matter.

  “No drop,” Lara said, not quite sure why that bothered her so much.

  Someone, a woman called out dissent. “They must have a trial. It is only proper.”

  But that lone voice of reason was quickly drowned out .

  Lara closed her eyes and focused her mind. The sound of the crowd abated. The tightness of the corset faded.

  Buddy?

  Lara distantly felt strange hands upon her body, grabbing, holding, shoving. She reached up and grasped Unity’s hands on her shoulders, holding tight as the crowd tried to separate them.

  Buddy!

  A guttural roar from the edge of the village. The crowd went silent. Lara opened her eyes, seeing those closest around her, the ones trying to pull her and Unity toward the gallows, shifting their attention away.

  Then screams as those on the outer edge of the crowd saw ‘Buddy’ stomping forward.

  Don’t hurt anyone, Buddy. Just scare them.

  The crowd melted away, much faster than it had formed. By the time Buddy arrived, there was no one to be seen as doors were barred and window shutters slammed shut.

  “Easy,” Lara said to the Yeti. She turned around, shifting Unity’s hands off her shoulders until they were in her own. “It’s all right.”

  Unity was looking at Buddy. “He listens to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you are a witch?” Unity frowned. “Oh. I see. He’s sad.” She stepped around Lara and put her hand on Buddy’s chest. “Poor thing. What did they do to you?”

  “Time to get out of here,” Lara said. “I think the bad people will be back.”

  Unity shook her head. “What they did to him, I cannot fix.”

  “Yeah,” Lara said.

  Unity turned toward Lara and put her other hand on Lara’s chest. Lara grasped it and felt a jolt of, well, something.

  “You’re troubled,” Unity said. She was remarkably calm for someone who’d been slowly being killed for days, was freed, and had just met a Yeti.

  “Trouble’s my middle name,” Lara said, wincing at her weak attempt at humor. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  But then she saw something out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head. Bodies, dangling from the cross beam of the gallows .

  Eight. Not just dangling but desperately kicking, squirming, hands tied behind back, ropes tight
around neck, a bench that had held them lying on the ground.

  Then they were gone.

  “You saw them?” Unity asked.

  Lara could only nod.

  “That is what I saw last month. The last hanging.”

  Lara focused. “We have to go.”

  Unity pulled her hand back. “To where?”

  “Right now, anywhere but here. Come on.” Lara pulled Unity toward the path inland. Buddy followed. “Why were they doing that to you?”

  “I heal people,” Unity said.

  “Like a doctor?”

  “I lay hands on them and they heal.”

  “Oh.” They reached the edge of the woods. “So you helped people and they decided to kill you?”

  “It is not natural what I do.”

  “Duh,” Lara said. She stopped, putting out her arm and halting Unity. “There are bad things ahead.”

  Dawn was far enough advanced that they could see thirty feet into the forest, but an early morning mist was draped over the ground. All was still. There was no noise from Salem behind them. No normal forest sounds ahead.

  Lara picked up the dark emptiness of Legion coming toward them. And something else. Something cold, something with a primeval mind that she instinctively knew would not be conducive to edging.

  The Legion came through the mist dressed in all black, a scarf covering everything but his eyes. At his side was a beast with the body of a lion, the head of a snake and the tail of a scorpion.

  “Great,” Lara muttered.

  “Who is that?” Unity asked, finally showing a bit of emotion in her voice. “What is that?”

  “The guy is Legion. The thing?” The download readily provided the answer since Moms had run into one in ancient Greece. “It’s a chimera. Sort of. Usually they have a lion’s head.”

  TMI, Edith , Lara thought .

  Legion came to a halt ten feet away. He looked at Buddy. “What did you do to it?” The chimera was at his side, the snakehead turning to and fro.

  “I said hi to him,” Lara said. “Acted friendly-like. His name is Buddy. Say hi to him.”

  “Just speaking would not do this.”

  “Are you Joey?”

  “I am Legion.”

  The chimera was sidling away from Legion, putting distance between them. Lara glanced at Buddy, wondering if it could take the monster, since snake head and scorpion tail seemed a potent combination. Of course, the first issue was whether Buddy would fight on her side. All she could pick up from the Yeti was a dull orange glow and she wasn’t sure what that meant.

  She also knew she couldn’t edge Buddy and battle Legion at the same time. She put her hand on Unity’s shoulder. “Can you—“ she searched for the right word—“sense the beast?” She nodded toward the Yeti.

  “If I touch him,” Unity said, “I can.”

  “We need him to fight that chimera thing while I take care of Mister Legion.”

  “He’s a bad man,” Unity said.

  Lara didn’t think you needed the Sight to know that. “Can you get Buddy to fight with us?”

  In reply, Unity went behind Buddy, reached up, grabbed a handful of fur, and climbed up his back, until she was on his shoulder. She leaned over, her head against his and began whispering something in his ear.

  “I take that as a yes,” Lara said.

  Then, of course, she realized she actually had to battle a Legion, one on one, dagger to dagger, and she was completely unprepared for that.

  Think ahead next time , Lara thought.

  “I knew a Legion once,” Lara said, the edge in her voice.

  He laughed. “It might work on an ignorant beast but you wiles don’t affect me.”

  “Just trying to make conversation.” Lara noted that the chimera was curving around, focused on Buddy. And Unity. Which meant Scout. Down the line .

  New Delhi, 31 October 1984 A.D.

  The tips of Neeley’s fingers were on fire from the narrow iron rods inserted under the nails and then pulled out. Her naked torso was painfully aware of over two-dozen cigarettes burns on the skin. Her mind had retreated from the pain, to an inner room Gant had taught her many years, utilizing Edith’s download to feed her random information, almost overwhelming her consciousness. She was cognizant of what was being done to her. Felt it. But didn’t allow herself to be drawn into it.

  For now.

  When the helmet was pulled off, it took several moments to come back to full consciousness. It was still dark outside. She was aware of the pain, of being half-naked, but most of all she saw the two Sikh bodyguards standing on the patio outside, nervously looking in.

  Satwant Singh and Beant Singh.

  “Leave,” Gandhi said to the sergeant. She walked over as the man scurried out of the room.

  “I am sorry,” she said as she arrived at the small table. She glanced down at the cup in front of Neeley. “Your tea is cold.” Gandhi pulled out the closest seat and slowly sat down. “It has been a long night. Dawn is not far off. My people have much more they can do to you, but there isn’t time.”

  Neeley noted there was a lot of activity behind her, in the main room of the quarters. She could only get a glimpse but she recognized a sophisticated mobile communications center had been set up. Sophisticated for 1984.

  “What are you doing, Prime Minister?” Neeley asked.

  “What needs to be done,” Gandhi said. “I have been thinking since the messenger came to me.” She smiled. “I was not quite honest with you about the message. I was told I might die today. It was not a declarative statement but rather one of, shall we say, possibilities? I was told if it happened, it was punishment for my failure to lead my country into the future.”

  “You were lied to,” Neeley said .

  “The vision did not lie about Sanjay. It did not lie about you appearing. I will take what it said as truth. Now I need you to tell me the truth. You did not scream while being tortured. That is impressive. But you will scream. Eventually.”

  Time , Neeley thought. She had to hold out. Until 9:20 a.m.

  That was hours off.

  She doubted she could and because she doubted she could, she knew she couldn’t. The pain would break through to that inner room in her brain and when it did, there would be nothing. Gant had told her early during their time together that everyone eventually broke under torture. Or they died first. He’d added that torture wasn’t effective for interrogation because one couldn’t trust the information that was relayed, but that didn’t help the victim of the torture.

  Neeley knew she would have to come up with some convincings lies.

  Gandhi continued. “This has made me think. What would my legacy be if I died now? Have I truly failed my country? I believe I have accomplished a great deal, but yet the messenger came to me. Surely there must be something to that?”

  Someone brought a tray with a pot over and carefully poured into Gandhi’s cup, then Neeley’s, as if she were free to drink it.

  Gandhi took a sip. “Are you from the future? It would be marvelous to know what unfolds. What awaits my country. But I have always believed we make our own futures. We cannot rely on others. We must take control. So that is what I am doing.

  “I had hoped you would be more upfront about where and when you came from. And why you are here. And what manner of death might await me. I had hoped, especially since you are a woman, that you were here to render assistance or perhaps provide guidance, but you have done neither. I must assume, then, that you are an enemy. Sent to stop me from my anointed task. That you are indeed an assassin and were just waiting for the appointed time after dawn.”

  Neeley was trying to follow the rambling words and disturbed logic, while also trying to keep away the pain.

  “Therefore, I will solve the issue of my possible death and my legacy at the same time. I will allow you to see history, then you will die.” She stood and leaned close so only Neeley could hear. “I am not a person to be pressured — by anybody or any nation. Now you
will see what happens.” She indicated the other room. “Karachi, Hyderabad, and Islamabad will be destroyed by my missiles. Then my Army and Air Force will take control of Pakistan.”

  Neeley tried to process that. Karachi was the fourth most populated city in the world. Islamabad the capital of the country. Gandhi was going to do a decapitation, first strike.

  But would the Chinese just to the north, and the Russians, on the same continent, react? And the Americans? Reagan was President. The man who’d joked about launching a first strike against Russia on a live mike; how would he react?

  The others in the room, the generals and admirals, were quietly arguing, with many a worried glance at Gandhi.

  “You can’t do that,” Neeley said.

  “I certainly can and will,” Gandhi said. “Your appearance was confirmation. We will launch exactly at dawn. The moment of launch is when you will be executed.”

  The North Atlantic, 31 October 1941 A.D.

  Roland was airborne, hurtling through the air seventy feet above the dark Atlantic, toward a pool of light from the U-Boat searchlight. And a writhing mass of kraken tentacles and Grendels on the deck, scurrying back from the rapidly sinking Reuben James .

  It was just like any other parachute operation, except he had no parachute. Time had slowed to a crawl, allowing Roland to notice things. Especially Jager just a few feet off to one side, also airborne.

  They hit the ocean side by side, just missing the U-boat.

  Roland sputtered to the surface, shaking his head to clear his eyes. The first thing he saw was the foot wide eye of a kraken staring back at him.

  He introduced himself by slamming the point of the Naga dagger deep into eye. With his other hand, Roland anchored himself with a grip of kraken flesh and kept pushing the dagger, his hand into the eye, then his forearm, then his entire arm until the tip of the blade penetrated the creature’s brain.

  The eye went blank.