The Burning Time
Page 29
At the same moment, the ground ceased shaking and the rain came to a sudden halt. As if finally emptied of all the evil stored in them, the unnatural cloud cover seeped away, leaving behind ordinary summer thunderheads. Sitting on the wet, muddy grass, Mitch looked over at John.
“Is it over?”
Still trying to catch his breath, John nodded.
“Did we win?”
John felt a smile crawl across his face. He reached out and put his arms around Mitch and Danni, drawing them into a hug as the clouds began breaking apart and sunlight fought to peek through.
“Yes. Yes, we did.”
Chapter 38
John placed his battered suitcase on the sidewalk and fought to keep his tears inside. He’d already shed more than any man should have to, saying his private good-byes to Danni the night before. The past two weeks had been better than any John had experienced since losing his wife and son so many years before. He’d spent his days playing with Mitch and repairing the house, and his nights lying in bed with Danni, doing all the things he’d dreamed about since he’d met her.
By unspoken agreement, they’d rarely talked about what had happened. The entire town remained convinced there’d been a freak earthquake, culminating with the ground collapsing under the church. They blamed the same hole for releasing toxic gasses that had caused rampant hallucinations and violent behavior. The day after the fair, John had gone to the crater and looked around, but had found no sign of Christian or the grimoire. He’d told Danni it was his opinion the Ancient One had met up with Asuggath after all, although not in the fashion he’d expected.
“So then he’s dead?” Mitch had asked.
Unable to lie to them, John had shaken his head. “No, the Trickster cannot die. He’s an elemental being, eternal. Like it or not, we’ll never be rid of him. But, I think it’ll be a long, long time before he’s able to cause any mischief in our world again.” That had been his last words on the subject, and neither Mitch nor Danni had brought it up again.
But he’d known their being together couldn’t last, that eventually he’d have to return to the path Fate had placed him on so many years before. So two nights ago he’d told Danni he had to go. She’d taken it badly at first, but eventually she’d accepted it, telling him she’d known he couldn’t stay forever. That night, instead of making love they’d simply held each other until they fell asleep.
Now, saying his final good-byes at the bus station, John wished he’d had the strength to deny his destiny.
“I don’t understand. Don’t you want to stay with us?” Mitch wiped the back of his hand across his cheeks, his own tears flowing freely. Rather than looking sad, his face was clenched tight in teenage anger.
Kneeling down, John placed both hands on Mitch’s shoulders. “Mitch, if I could stay here, I would. There’s nothing I’d like better. I love you and your sister like you were...my own family.”
“Then why are you leaving?” Mitch refused to meet his eyes, so John placed one hand under the boy’s chin and tilted his face up so they were staring at each other.
“Because I don’t have a choice. My calling, my life’s work, is to help people like you and Danni, and all the people in all the towns like Hastings Mills. It’s what I do, and no one else can do it. Sometimes that makes me feel bad. It’s like a curse. But it also makes me feel good, because I think about all the people I help, and I know I’ve made the world a better place.”
“Will I ever see you again?”
Looking into Mitch’s eyes, John made a decision. He’d had a family once, knew the only thing keeping him from starting another had been the fear that his life would put anyone he loved in too much danger.
But Mitch and Danni knew the danger.
And they still wanted him.
“Yes, you will.” At Danni’s startled gasp from above them, he turned and stared at her, letting her know he wasn’t lying to them. “You will. I promise.” Turning back to Mitch, he said, “Whenever I’m not involved in...in taking care of a problem, we’ll figure out a way for me to either visit you or for you and Danni to come visit me.”
“You...you promise?” The look of frightened hope in Mitch’s eyes made John more determined than ever to change his life.
“I swear.” John stood up and took Danni’s hands. “I swear to you, too. We’ll find a way.”
Danni shook her head, not in denial but in mock exasperation. “Great. Bad enough I could never find a local guy to date. Now I’ve got a long-distance relationship with someone who doesn’t even own a car. You expect me to drive to South Carolina whenever I want to see you?”
John let out a small laugh. “I guess I’ll have to invest in a car.”
Danni poked him in the chest. “Get with the times. Ever hear of an airplane?”
A shudder ran through John. He’d never flown. Too many supernatural beings used the skies for transportation. Just then, the loudspeaker announced that the bus to Pittsburgh was boarding. From there, John would change buses three more times before he reached home.
He leaned forward and gave Danni a long kiss, her lips tasting of sweet lemonade. He held the kiss until he ran out of breath.
“We’ll start with a train.” He picked up his case. “It’s safer.”
“Safe is for ordinary people,” she said, giving him a wicked smile.
He shook Mitch’s hand and then climbed onto the bus. Until it pulled away, he waved to Mitch and Danni through the darkened windows and smiled every time they waved back.
Only when the town of Hastings Mills was well behind him did he think about Danni’s last words and nod.
Safe is for ordinary people.
Maybe someday I can be ordinary again.
Epilogue
Inuvik, Northwest Territories
The battered, decades-old pickup came to a halt in a cloud of black, oily exhaust smoke. The blowing snow made it hard to see more than twenty feet, and the scattered buildings of Canada’s northernmost town appeared ghostly.
“Sure I can’t take you into town, Father?” the bearded man behind the wheel asked, as his passenger got out.
“No, thank you,” said the passenger, his face hidden in the hood of his coat. “I need to exercise my legs.”
“Suit yourself. But be careful. This weather can kill you fast.” The truck pulled away, belching diesel fumes as it picked up speed.
The hooded man raised a hand as if to wave good-bye and traced a series of symbols in the subzero air. A quarter mile down the road, the wheezing pickup suddenly slid sideways on the icy pavement and flipped over. A moment later, a ball of flame shot up as the truck exploded. Thick smoke rose from the wreckage, creating a column of black rising into the sky. Overhead, the storm clouds began shifting colors, as if absorbing the smoke and becoming one with it.
In a matter of seconds, the falling snow changed to icy pellets.
Laughing to himself, the hooded man walked down the road until he came to the flaming wreck. After warming his hands over the hot metal, he reached into the battered, snakeskin suitcase he carried. In it were two books. His fingers gently caressed the one bound in human skin and then moved on to a waterstained, burnt Bible. He pulled the Bible out and tossed it into the fire. Then he pulled the white collar from his shirt and cast it into the flames.
Hidden by the hood of his coat, the flesh of his old man’s face twisted and reformed itself.
Moments later, a heavyset, middle-aged man strode down the icy highway toward Inuvik. As he grew closer, the howling of dogs echoed from the town.
In the land of the Inuit, the Amaguq had returned.
The End
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