As when he had first encountered them, the dogs stayed outside the circle of light cast from his Maglite and growled. Gary lurched against a tree, resting his cheek against the rough bark, gasping like a fish on the shore. He tried to still his racing heart, tried to will the ache in his side away.
The dogs quit growling but paced back and forth at the edge of the light. He shook his head, wondering what sort of canine game they were playing. Do they know that if they push me, I will die? Do they only want to extend their game?
Gary put his back to the rough tree trunk and sank into a squat, but the second his butt touched the ground, the growling began on all sides. He pushed himself back up the tree trunk, and the noise stopped. “Well, fuck,” Gary said with a sigh. “I guess you bastards are content to let me catch my breath but not rest.”
A single yip answered him from the darkness.
6
Will Seeger dropped Tom off in the police department parking lot. He sported a white bandage at the hairline on his forehead, and since the adrenaline was wearing off, his hands shook, his neck ached, and the cut on his scalp burned. He pushed through the door, hoping for a cup of hot coffee.
“Tom! There’s trouble at the Canton house,” said Shelley Myers, the night dispatcher.
Walton waved at her. “It’s okay, Gary’s there.”
But the dispatcher shook her head. “He radioed in and said he was out of the car, going into the woods to help. Then, Elizabet Can—”
“Slow down, Shelley. Who went into the forest? Who did Gary follow?”
“Joe Canton and his grandson, Greg. Gary said he saw them run into the trees, and Elizabet Canton just called to say that her son, Stephen, has also gone after them—both armed.”
“Get me the keys to a car!” Walton turned and walked to the hall that led to the armory. “And call in everyone! Tell them to roll toward those woods!”
Shelley nodded and ran back to the dispatch room.
Tom opened a reinforced steel door and pushed into the armory. A rack of pistols adorned one wall, and beneath it rested a rack of tactical shotguns. Tom stepped to the other side of the room and removed the bar securing the assault rifles.
Genosgwa’s police department had seven officers—counting Gary Dennis—under his command. Tom grabbed a box of loaded magazines and removed three AR-15s from the locked rack on one wall of the armory and put them on the maintenance table near the door. On the other side of the room, he unlocked the rack of Remington 870 tactical shotguns and withdrew three, adding them to the rifles. He grabbed two boxes of double-aught buckshot and added them to the box of magazines. He put the box of ammunition in the hall, then grabbed the rifles and shotguns, leaning them against the wall in the hallway. After locking the armory door, he walked back to the lobby with the shotguns under one arm and the AR-15’s under the other. “Shelley!” he called.
She came on the run, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of him laden down with weapons. “Yes, Chief?”
“Box of ammunition in the hall, can you grab it?”
Myers nodded and slid the keys to one of the dayshift cars across the wooden countertop that served as the reception desk. “You get the car open, and I’ll bring that box.”
Tom grabbed the keys and used his foot to open the door. He loaded the weapons into the trunk. As he finished, Shelley staggered out the door, straining to carry the box of heavy ammunition. He took it from her and put it in the trunk. “Tell everyone to meet me at Gary’s car.”
“Yes sir, Chief.”
Tom slid behind the wheel and fired up the engine. He flipped on the lights and siren, backed out, and raced toward Lake Genosgwa.
7
“Dad! For God’s sake, cry out!” Panic surged through Stephen’s mind, and adrenaline surged in his blood. He hadn’t heard a thing since the last burst of gunfire—the forest seemed to absorb all sound, to suck it up greedily like a parched man drinking cool water.
Stephen slowed to a stop and turned in a circle, no longer sure which direction led back to the lake house, no longer sure if he’d been running in a straight line or in a circle. His eyes had adapted to the darkness—not that it helped all that much… The black blanket that surrounded him seemed impossible to penetrate. He had almost completed a full circle when he saw it.
Stephen hunched and peered into the black maw of the forest, searching for the glint he’d seen a moment before. He walked forward, squinting, but the glint didn’t repeat itself.
He straightened up, a grimace twisting the muscles of his face. It’s my mind playing tricks on me again. How am I ever going to find Dad and Greg?
“Well, fuck. I guess you bastards are content to let me catch my breath but not rest,” someone said.
The voice sounded familiar to Stephen, but he couldn’t place it. It wasn’t his dad’s voice, but even so, he started toward it. A yip sounded as if in answer to the man’s speech, and Stephen paused. It sounded like the yip of a large, playful dog, but the man’s words belied play. “Who’s there?” he called.
“It’s Gary Dennis. Who’s that?”
After suppressing a sigh of relief, Stephen straightened and walked on.
“But be careful, there are dogs in the dark out there.”
“Dogs?” Stephen asked. He pulled the flashlight out of his back pocket and flicked it on, shining it in a wide arc in front of him. At the extreme edge of the light’s ability to penetrate the darkness, something reflected the light back at him. “Is that you?”
“Yes. Is that Joe’s son?”
“It is, Gary. Stephen Canton. I’m armed. Shotgun. Don’t freak out when you see it.”
“Son, that’s music to my ears. Maybe we can scare this pack of dogs off.”
Stephen picked up his pace. “Have you seen my father? My son?”
Dennis let a sigh gust out of him. “I followed Joe into the woods and stayed with them for a bit, but I…” He sighed again. “I had an…incident, and I lost him. I… I think I’m lost.”
“Crap. I’m all turned around, too. I heard gunfire.” He stepped into a small clearing and approached Officer Dennis where he leaned against a tree trunk on the opposite side.
“Yeah, I did, too. It was right before I… Look, I passed out right after I heard three shots from your dad’s carbine. I haven’t heard a thing since then—except for these damn dogs.”
Stephen shined his flashlight at the edges of the glade, but he could see nothing beyond the first row of trees. “Dogs? I don’t hear anything.”
Gary Dennis cocked his head to the side as if listening. “There’s a pack of them in these woods,” he said. “They chased me for a while, but it didn’t seem as if they wanted to catch me. It was as though they were herding me, maybe.”
Stephen couldn’t help but chuckle. “A pack of sheepdogs chased you?”
Gary’s eyes flashed with irritation for a moment, but then a rueful grin painted his face. “I’ll admit it sounds a mite silly, but when they were chasing me, it didn’t feel silly.”
Stephen lifted his shoulders and let them drop, careful not to point the shotgun in Gary’s direction. “Well, they seem to have gone back into hiding now.”
Gary nodded but seemed uneasy. “Could be.” His gaze came to rest on the shotgun. “In any case, I’m glad you’ve got the shotgun.” He gestured at his empty holster. “When I blacked out, I was holding my pistol. When I came to…” He shook his head.
“Was it around here?” Stephen turned another circle, again shining his flashlight on the ground at the edges of the glade.
“No,” Gary sighed. He pushed himself away from the tree and moved to stand at Stephen’s side. “I’m afraid I have no idea where I was when I passed out. I got turned around after I came to, and when the dogs were chasing me, I ran randomly, turning when they got in front of me.” He shrugged.
“I’m not sure how I can catch up to—”
“I think we’d better address our own issue, first. If we
can get back to the road, I can radio for more support. We can get old Leland Chambers out here with his dogs, and he—”
“I can’t leave them out here! Not with some psycho that’s after my boy!”
“Stephen, I understand how you feel, but we’re not doing anyone any good wandering around in the darkness. We need help to search these woods. We need more eyes, more bodies.” He gestured at Stephen’s weak flashlight. “We need better light. We need something to mark our trail.”
Stephen shook his head. “You can go back, but I have to—”
“No, Stephen. Hear sense! You’re not helping them stumbling around lost in the dark, putting yourself in danger.” Gary lay his hand on Stephen’s shoulder. “Look, I count your father as a good friend. Good enough that I may know his mind on this. He wouldn’t want you out here alone, stumbling around in the dark with a wild pack of dogs lurking in the shadows.”
Again, Stephen shook his head, but this time he voiced no objection.
“Your dad was a Marine—thinks like a Marine still. He can handle himself in these woods. And he’s got his M1. He can protect your grandson while we go for help.”
Stephen met his gaze for the space of three breaths, then hung his head. “I hope you know the direction out of here, because I sure don’t.”
“We’ll have to figure that one out together.”
8
Greg’s thigh muscles burned. He hadn’t heard Grandpa Joe call out in a long time. He didn’t know if his grandpa still followed behind him, but that was what Greg wanted—for him to turn back so Greg could lead the Lady in the Lake away from his family.
That shows courage on your part, champ. Guts. If you keep this up, we can save your family from otherwise inevitable heartbreak.
Greg kept running. “Tell me where to go.”
You’re doing fine, sport. Just keep running, keep leading that old Lady in the Lake farther into the woods. Keep on keeping on, in other words.
“I’ll reach the other end of this little chunk of woods soon. The road is ahead.”
I don’t think so.
“I’ve been coming to Grandma and Grandpa’s lake house for a long time. I know these woods pretty well.”
Harsh, abrasive laughter filled his head, making the inside of his skull itch. Oh, do you? Pardon me. My mistake.
“Well, I have. I’ve played in these woods for years. There’s not that much of them separating Grandpa’s gravel road and the hardtop that goes around the lake.”
Ah, but are you so sure that the woods you’re in now are the same woods that you played in for “all those years?” Does everything look the same?
Greg glanced around at his surroundings—really looked—for the first time. I don’t know what you’re going on about—it’s just trees.
Are they the same trees?
“How would I know?”
You are making my point for me, kiddo. And that is the question: how would you know? It’s dark, and you’re running—barely looking at your surroundings, mostly focused on your feet. You might be anywhere, sport.
Greg shook his head as he ran. “No, I couldn’t. I ran across the gravel road into the woods, so those are the woods I’m in. I haven’t come across the paved road—Lake Circle—or any of the other gravel roads. That means I’m in the woods across from Grandma and Grandpa’s house.
Oh, excuse me. I must be mistaken. AGAIN.
Greg suppressed a sigh. “I really don’t understand what you’re talking about. How could I be anywhere else?”
You’re the one with all the answers, sport.
“It just doesn’t make sense.”
It makes perfect sense to me. But, never mind all that for now, you’ve got bigger problems. Look behind you.
Greg threw a quick glance over his shoulder and gasped. Behind him ran the Lady in the Lake, dressed in shimmery black mud. As his gaze met her eyes, her irises blazed crimson, and bloody tears squeezed from the corners of her eyes. But at the same time, she looked happy, excited. “What do you want?” he shouted at her.
Her only response was an evil grin that exposed sharp fangs. She raised a finger and pointed ahead of him.
Greg looked forward, and a little yelp escaped him. A row of big dogs sat in a line blocking his path. Except they were unlike any dogs he’d ever seen. Their ears would have looked more at home on a bat or a reptile. Their legs ended in what looked more like human hands than a dog’s paws. And their eyes—
What eyes, champ? They don’t have eyes.
Greg veered to his left, pouring on as much speed as he could—unsure of which scared him more, the Lady in the Lake or the dog-things. His invisible friend chuckled inside his mind.
9
Mason slowed to a jog and then to a walk. Lake Circle was just ahead, but no cars sat parked alongside the road, and no people stood waiting. He was a little later than the Lady in the Lake had wanted him to be, but the Cantons had been slow, and there was nothing he could do about that. She would understand.
He stopped walking and peered into the dark woods to either side of the gravel lane. Thomas Hill Road was a dead end, so he had to be in the right place. Mason stood for a moment, shifting his weight from foot to foot, glancing over his shoulder every now and again. He wasn’t sure what to do next, so he did what he always did when he was uncertain: nothing.
He squatted and snaked a dry twig out of the grass on the side of the road and peeled the bark from it, creating a small pile between his feet. After a few minutes, he rocked back onto his butt and kicked his feet out.
The summer had been…wonderful. The Lady in the Lake had opened his eyes to so many things, so many pleasures. He still couldn’t understand why a beautiful woman would want to have anything to do with him, but his father had always told him never to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Not that Mason knew what that meant. It sounded stupid.
“Hey there, boy,” rasped a voice from the darkness.
Mason scrambled to his feet, peering around him. “Who’s there?” A nasty chuckle answered him, but he thought it came from the woods on his side of the road. He peered into the darkness, the partly stripped stick forgotten in his hand.
He gasped as a pair of eyes glowed red from the trees.
A bald man stepped from the shadows farther down the road. “Don’t mind him, kid.”
Mason tore his gaze away from the glowing red eyes and turned toward the man. “Are you…”
“Show us where they live.” The bald man motioned toward the woods. “Come on out. There’s no sense having a snack when we’re about to have a complete meal.”
Another man stepped from the woods, younger, with a full head of black hair. He snapped his tongue against his teeth. “That’s hardly the point, Red.”
“Did the Lady in the Lake send you?” asked Mason.
The one called Red nodded, but the other one just laughed.
“Come on, kid. Take us to the house,” said Red.
Mason lifted his chin. “The Cantons live back this way.” He began retracing his steps up the gravel lane. “What are you two going to do?”
“None of your business!” snapped the black-haired man.
“Chaz, that’s not very nice.”
Chaz shrugged.
“We both have tasks,” said Red. “One of us will stay at the house, the other will venture into the woods.”
“And me? What do I do?”
“Brig—” began Chaz.
“The Lady in the Lake has another job for you, kid,” said Red. “You are to help whoever goes into the woods.”
“Okay.” Mason looked down, surprised to find he still carried the denuded stick. He let it fall from his fingers. I hope Chaz stays at the house.
Behind him, Chaz laughed.
It was as though he could read Mason’s thoughts. But that’s crazy.
Chaz laughed again, and it was a low, mocking laugh.
Chapter 2
2007
&n
bsp; 1
Scott, Mike, Benny, Shannon, and Toby sat in a large corner booth toward the back of the restaurant. Hartman’s corporeal existence rotted away in the medical school’s industrial digester, but the afternoon’s activities still weighed on the group. Scott kept stealing glances at Toby when he thought Toby wasn’t paying attention.
But Toby was paying attention, and he leaned toward the state trooper. “What is it?”
“What?” A blush crept up Scott’s cheeks.
“Why do you keep looking at me, Scott? Is there something you want to ask me?”
Scott’s gaze drifted away from Toby’s. “No, it’s nothing.”
Toby smiled crookedly. “Let me guess. You’re wondering how many I have on my list.”
Scott’s blush deepened, but he nodded while avoiding everyone’s gaze.
“But you know they’re just…” Benny stole a quick glance at the students sitting around them and hunched forward. “Demons,” he whispered.
“Yes, I understand that. But thanks for pointing it out, Benny.”
Benny sat back as if Scott had chewed him out, and Shannon draped her arm around his shoulders, pulling him close.
Toby watched the exchange with solemn detachment. “But still, your instincts—your cop instincts—demand you find out, that you investigate my methods.”
It hadn’t been a question, but Scott nodded anyway.
“I’ve been at this a while. I’ve developed certain…let’s call them ‘best practices.’”
“Best practices? You make it sound like it’s…”
“An industry? A profession?”
Scott nodded.
“What you don’t understand, Scott, is that hunting these demons down and ending their miserable lives on this planet is my profession. Teaching college? That’s my cover. My habits have kept me alive.”
“Still, it sounds so…so clinical. So detached, as if you can do this with no emotional impact.”
Toby leaned back in the padded booth, a sly grin on his face. “I wouldn’t be much good at it if I let it get to me.” He waved his hand toward the world outside the booth. “But I understand where you’re coming from. Listen to me, Scott, and this is important: the world you think you live in is not the real world. In the real world, demons live amongst us, and they’re feeding on us. Feeding on our children—” Toby snapped his jaws shut, but it was too late.
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