The beast was coming.
The Devil hung from the ceiling, wings spread wide. “Give yourself to him. It will all be over soon.”
The creature entered. Sue saw the hatchet on the floor and dove.
She caught up the weapon as she rolled on her shoulder and then, propped on one elbow, she hurled it.
It landed square in the center of the beast’s veil, and the skin split open like that of an overripe fruit. The veil opened wide, revealing a bloody, eyeless skull, and the most awful scream she’d ever heard poured forth.
The Devil fell to the floor at the beast’s feet. He writhed as if he were on fire, his scream building to join the creature’s in a mad crescendo, and then the creature fell with a thunderous BOOM and went straight through the floor.
The Devil’s shriek died. All was silent.
Sue sat on the floor and gingerly touched her hands to her face. She was bruised and battered, but still in one piece.
The Devil’s muttering drifted over to her. He was pacing back and forth before the hole in the floor. “There have been setbacks before. Stubborn girl. They always fight. We can rebuild. Temporary setback.”
She was on her feet and, before she knew it, standing in his face. His black eyes went wide as she snarled, “Try it. Try it ever again, just one more time, and I swear to God I’ll slit my own throat.”
She found the old razor in her jeans pocket and pressed it to her jugular. Gummy as it was, it could still make a pinprick in her flesh. A tiny rivulet of blood trickled down her neck.
“No,” the Devil protested, fists clenched. “No! You wouldn’t! Wouldn’t dare!”
“Maybe not if I was carrying a child.” She smiled bitterly. “But I’m not, and I won’t.”
She left him then, hoping that she had left him for good but somehow knowing she’d never be that lucky.
The Devil stood in the broken window, gazing at the garish neon lights of Denver’s back alleys, drinking deep of the sin in the air but feeling hollow and empty nonetheless.
“Damned if you do, damned if you don’t,” he said. A trite turn of phrase, but grimly apropos. With a final sigh, he lit into the air, flying toward the horizon and a hazy morning star.
Sunset
Ray found his sea legs about two weeks into the family’s summer excursion. Tanner brought the twelve-year-old up and showed him how to pilot the boat. Kelly swam out a bit while Em snapped photos, and they had dinner together at sunset. It was far and away the best day yet.
Em took the boys below to tuck them in, and Tanner sat on the deck and rolled a joint in his lap. When his wife came up he flashed her a grin, the one that she used to call “irrepressible.” She looked at him like he was one of the children.
Slumping down in a chair, Em watched quietly as he finished rolling. His expression was sour now. The red sun bleeding across the Pacific waters stained the creases in his face; he felt his age under Em’s scrutiny, and he hated it. “What’s that for?” she asked in a monotone. “I feel seasick,” he replied tersely, plucking his lighter from his pocket. She’d let her hair down today, a subtle yet meaningful sign. He was dismayed to see her pulling it back into a severe ponytail. “At least be honest, you’re flaunting it right in my face.” She snapped.
So he wasn’t seasick. He wasn’t homesick either – he just thought it would be fun for chrissakes. Clearly though, he couldn’t say as much because Emily was set to pounce, to capsize what remained of this one perfect day.
Tanner struck the flint defiantly and placed the joint between his lips and spoke around it. “We’re miles from anything or anyone. We’re out here to relax, Jesus. We used to do this all the time--”
“We used to do a lot of things.”
“The boys are asleep!” He spat, and lit it.
“That isn’t what I was getting at, at all,” Em shot back. “We’re alone now and you want to get high. What the hell does that say to me?”
“I thought WE might like a smoke, just like old times.” Tanner breathed in; it tickled his windpipe and he fought the urge to cough. “I spent a good bloody year getting the boat into shape, and for what?” But she was ready with a retort. “Oh, I know that. Anytime you’re not on call, you’re out playing with this boat.”
“Playing…!” He inhaled again and pointed the cherried end of the joint at his wife. “I did it all so that we could have this summer. You, me, the boys. Time away from everything, just for us.”
“I want more than a goddamned vacation every two years!” She was exasperated nearly to the point of tears. Tanner went ahead and crushed the joint out on the railing. So much for that. Another night of arguing then, because she always wanted to argue. Didn’t think they could enjoy each other’s company for one minute until every flaw of the past decades had been analyzed. “How long,” she cried, “can you spend getting ready to start living? And do we have to put our lives on hold and wait for you?”
“Look around!” He shouted. Too loud. That was it. She turned from him and went below. “Look around,” Tanner said again, watching the sun’s rim slip behind the calm waters.
* * *
He bought the ganja while they were on a little island called Huana. It had been a chance for Ray to relax on land and a chance for Em to show the boys around. She grew bored of the sea rather quickly. Pointing out exotic flora & fauna and haggling with merchants was her forte, and, to her credit, the children stayed glued to her the entire day. Tanner parked himself at a seaside bar where he could watch the boat.
He set his empty glass down behind him, and someone rapped on the bar next to it. “Two more girly drinks over here.” The voice was immediately recognizable; sure enough, Tanner turned to see a dark bronzed face with silvery hair and a weathered flight jacket on a well-fed frame. “Hatch!” Tanner exclaimed. “It’s boiling out here, take that thing off!”
“Sure thing, doc.” Hatch smirked and settled on a stool. “Where’d you blow in from?” Tanner told him about the planned summer adventure. There was understanding in his old friend’s eyes. “That’s good, Tanner. Sometimes you’ve got to get the clan away from it all.”
“Looks like you’ve been staying away from it all yourself,” Tanner observed. Hatch’s skin, leather glistening with a strong perfume, made a riddle of his age and nationality. Only that slight accent (and the ridiculous jacket) gave it away. They’d worked out here with a humanitarian consort a lifetime ago. Tanner always suspected Hatch had missed his flight home. He asked if Hatch ever visited the mainland; the man’s boisterous smiled softened a bit. “I get off the island once in a while. Never do make it far.” Teeth bared themselves again. “Can you blame me?”
“Don’t suppose I can.” Tanner drained his refill. “I’ve got our course pretty well mapped out, but I’d like to play it by ear where I can. Any recommendations?”
“You mean other islands?” Hatch shrugged. “It’s all right here, friend. If you’ve gotta shove off, no point in loitering. In fact,” he said, fingering his glass, “you’ll want to head out just the way you came. Steer clear of the little rocks that aren’t on the maps.”
“How little are these ‘rocks’ we’re talking about?”
Hatch’s face became sallow as he inched forward, his voice lowering to a grim, deliberate hush. “There’s nothing good out there. Head due north.” His hand had left his drink and he was stroking the base of his ring finger, but there was no evidence that a ring had encircled it in recent years.
* * *
Sometime in the night, after Em had gone down below, Tanner got into a bottle of Chablis and revived the joint. He woke up with a blanket pulled over his head. Angry at first, he realized he’d been spared a sunburn while sleeping off (most of) the previous night.
Em had let the boat drift. He could hear Ray pleading to navigate, and her assurance that Dad wouldn’t want them any farther off course. She said it with an edge to her voice, loud enough for him to hear. Tanner grunted. The instruments had their location pi
npointed. No need to deny Ray a little fun and place the blame on Father’s control issues.
“What’s that?” Kelly squeaked. Thin-boned at eight years and his meek voice still commanded the family’s attention.
Tanner sat up and blinked through the sun’s harsh glare to see what Kelly was pointing at. It looked like a fence erected in the middle of the ocean: a great wooden wall, several hundred yards away but imposing nonetheless. Em made out treetops peering over the wall. “It’s an island!”
Tanner startled them all by dropping into the captain’s chair he’d installed that spring. “Ray-Ray, let’s take a closer look, what do you say?” He took the boy into his lap, giving Em the slightest glare, just enough to let her know he’d heard.
They gently approached the wall, and Tanner marveled at its construction. The twenty-foot-high slats of wood, lashed together by unseen means, couldn’t possibly be native to the island. Lazy palms stretched over the wall but this wood was thick and dark, like mahogany; gritty yet robust where the water lapped at it. Must’ve been a mile long, and the rounded corners in the distance suggested that it ran the circumference of the island.
“How far down does it go?” Kelly asked his father. “You mean down into the water? Let’s find out.” Tanner kicked off his sandals and climbed atop the boat’s railing. “What are you doing?” Em cried. He winked at her, then dropped into the water. The wet slap was a welcome wake-up call to his senses. His head had barely gone under when the tips of his toes brushed over cool sand. The wall was right at the island’s edge, on the beach.
Em leaned over the rail to yell but the kids’ cheers cut her off. “There’s got to be a break in it somewhere,” Tanner called up. “Let’s cruise around.”
As it turned out, there was no break in the wall, and the oval-shaped island was entirely contained. Noting that, and noting the return of Tanner’s trademark grin, Em said “It’s closed off for a reason. I’m sure it’s private. Might even be some government property.”
“With this old wood wall?” Her husband scoffed. “C’mon. What’s the harm in this?” He shook the salt water from his hair. “We want to see what’s in there.”
“Yeah!” The boys chorused. Em scowled. “Start living.” Tanner cracked.
Her glare bored into his skull. “Look at the damn map, Tanner.”
He did. He spread it across the deck, double-checked the coordinates and was not at all surprised to find that the island didn’t exist.
“All right then, you’re definitely not going over that wall,” Em declared. The boys’ whooping turned to groans. It was nice to be on the winning side of a family dispute for once, Tanner thought; Ray and Kelly were unabashedly grateful for his attention. “I’ve got a folding ladder down below,” he told them, “and I’ll bet we can climb right up there from the deck.”
“It’s ‘we’ now?” Flustered beyond protest, Em threw her hands in the air.
“C’mon Mom,” Ray insisted. “Just to look?” He turned in Tanner’s lap and put his arm around his father’s neck.
She gave up. Tanner brought the port side flush with the wall, dropped anchor, and fetched the ladder. “Get on Daddy’s piggy-back, Kelly.”
“Test it first, see if it’ll hold your weight,” Em offered.
He gave a smile in return. “Good thinking. See boys, that’s why we’ve got Mom.”
“Where would we be without her?” Kelly said, hands on his hips, and mother and father both laughed in spite of themselves.
* * *
The top of the wall was a good four feet wide. The beach itself was tiny, a sandy slope at the edge of dense forest. There wasn’t much to look at from their vantage point; Tanner put Kelly on his shoulders. “I still can’t see anything.” The boy chirped.
Ray cried out as a goat ambled onto the beach. It looked at them for a second, then began nosing through the foliage on the ground. “Looks healthy,” Em remarked. “Can’t be from here though, can it?”
“So there’s a little farm,” Tanner said. “And what are they farming that calls for a barrier around the entire island?” Em smirked conspiratorially.
“You’ve twisted my arm,” Tanner said, grabbing the ladder, “I’ll check it out.” Turning to the boys he added, “Just me.” He wedged the ladder in the sand below and made the descent. The goat moved a few feet away but continued grazing. Tanner was mindful of the foliage and what it might conceal; nevertheless, he shoved his hands into his shorts and headed into the trees. Immediately he heard the voices: distant, relaxed. English.
Tanner froze. Whoever it was, there were several of them and they didn’t know that his family was there. But someone might come looking for that goat – and if there was indeed a bad reason for the wall then maybe he wanted to turn around and get the fuck out of there. For the first time, away from Em and the kids, he wasn’t defiant but afraid.
“Hello!” A dark-skinned man in khakis parted the branches ahead. “Who are you?”
“I, er--” Just tell the truth. Tanner swallowed and said, “Sailing with my family. I just dropped over the wall for a look. Alone. Sorry.”
“Oh.” The man’s angular countenance was thoughtful. Then he shrugged. “No worries. Need help back over the wall?” His accent was that of a Pacific Islander, but there was that hint of Western education. It put Tanner at ease. “I’ve got a ladder. I’m fine.”
The man nodded and strode past him, meaning to lead him to the beach. Tanner fell into step beside him. “Got a cut on your shin there,” The man noted.
Must’ve been from the wall. “It’s no problem, I’m a doctor.” Tanner answered.
“Are you? So am I. Homeopathic medicine. I studied in London – you’re from there?”
Tanner nodded and introduced himself. The man shook his hand warmly. “Reni.”
They emerged from the forest, and Tanner waved to the others on the wall. “So, thank you.” He shook Reni’s hand again. “The wall…?”
The man opened his mouth, closed it, and simply smiled. “Fair enough,” said Tanner.
A howl erupted at their rear, sending the goat hurtling down the beach. A heavyset man rushed at them and grabbed Reni. He gawked at Tanner. “What is this?”
“Wanderers. What’s wrong?”
“Bama hurt his leg bad. Hurry!” The large man took off. Reni turned to Tanner. “I’m sorry, see yourself off.” He chased after his fellow islander.
“Wait!” Tanner held his hand up to Em and the boys. “Wait.” He sprinted into the woods, shouting “Can I help?” With no thought toward the wall, or Reni’s polite-but-firm demeanor. The forest opened up into a wide clearing where a hut was being built. Strips of wood lashed together with thick rope lay before a large square frame, in the midst of which was a sobbing boy of 15 or so years. Reni and the other man were knelt over him, but Tanner could clearly see the bulge in the boy’s calf: fractured tibia, most likely.
The heavy man shot Tanner a look less bewildered than threatening. “He’s a doctor.” Reni said quickly. Though his face didn’t change, the man backed off and Tanner took his place beside the boy. “Do you have facilities?” He asked Reni. “Of course,” came the reply. Tanner grabbed one of the big wooden panels from the ground, and he and Reni got the boy onto it, carting it off like a stretcher.
The “facilities” were a two-room thatched hut in the village, which itself consisted of maybe two dozen huts and a sandy “main street” stripped of plant growth that ran through the center. Tanner did a double-take when Reni snapped on a lamp over the exam table. “We have a generator,” the heavy man said. “I’m sorry about before. My name is Sato.”
Tanner nodded absently, his focus on Reni who was swabbing the boy’s contorted face. He wondered what the odds were of that other room containing an x-ray lab. “We need to get a look at the bone before we think of doing anything else.” Reni slipped a bright green root between the boy’s lips. “Chew this, Bama.” He gently touched the leg. Bama was chewing furiously but made
not a sound, even as Reni prodded the bone jutting beneath his red flesh, ascertaining its shape. “It’s a clean break,” he concluded.
Tanner gaped at him. “You should take him off the island—“
Reni smiled again. He’d just set the bone; all that remained was a slight swelling. “Life before x-rays.” Bama swallowed the last of the root.
* * *
Sato explained that he was the mayor of the island community, Pati. He stopped short of explaining the wall but made it clear that Pati was self-sufficient and liked it that way. The islanders raised small livestock, grew a variety of fruits and vegetables, and flew other supplies in from Huana once a year using their produce as currency. No TV, a few radios, clothing & homes came from the land and fresh water fell from the sky. It was a remarkable account, and Tanner began to understand the wall a bit. “How many live here?” he asked.
“Fifty-three. Bama is the youngest among us.”
Reni elbowed Sato with a grin. “And the eldest?”
“All right then.” Sato clapped Tanner on the back. “What type of doctor are you?” Tanner replied that he was administrator of a London clinic but had previously specialized in reconstructive surgery; his time on Huana decades ago had been spent correcting disfiguring birth defects among native children. “And how many of you have been abroad?” He asked Sato, noting that the islanders on the street were all speaking English. “Very few. We pass along all knowledge, learn from one another.”
“What happens to the boy now?” Tanner asked. “I’ll wrap the leg and keep him at home for a while,” Reni said.
“You were uncertain back there…” Sato observed, looking at Tanner..
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Tanner said. “Just not what I’m used to, obviously.”
Sato told him “We have a physician just finishing his studies in Europe. He’d be here now but he’s been delayed another month.” Reni pursed his lips at the mention. Sato went on. “You say you’re on sabbatical…I hate to trouble you, but it almost seems as if Providence brought you to Pati. Could you possibly look at one other boy? He was hurt weeks back but Reni fears infection—”
Dark Entities Page 5
