Deadly Rising

by Jeri Westerson

  “I’m getting something.” He scrambled one-handed into his jeans pocket and yanked out a pair of bent and cracked ear buds. He popped them in his ears and plugged them into the phone. Eyes wide, he tilted his head, listening intently.

  Doc moved in to look over his shoulder. “Maybe this might be a good place to use the Ouija board again.”

  Jolene dragged the thing out of her backpack. “I’m on it.” She set it on the rickety coffee table, covered in decades of dust. It looked like the typical Ouija board: a beige background with letters, numbers, “Yes” and “No” at each corner. She took out a triangular thingamajig—a planchette—with a magnifying glass cut out of the center. The carpet kicked up dust as she positioned herself on her knees before the board. She gently laid both hands on the triangle and asked, “Is there a presence here?”

  Nothing.

  “Is there a presence here?” she repeated.

  The planchette jerked. Slowly, it moved up the board and landed on the “Yes.”

  “You didn’t move that?” I whispered, really hoping she had.

  She shook her head, watching the triangle as steadily as everyone else. “Do you have a message for us?”

  The planchette moved slowly across the board, heading for the letters. It started on the K and by the time it got to the E my skin was covered in gooseflesh.

  K-Y-L-I-E, it began. I N-E-E-D Y-O-U.

  Jolene brought up eyes full of worry. She didn’t look away from me when she asked, “Who are you?”

  R-O…The planchette stopped. It jerkily changed direction. G-R-A-N-D-P-A.

  My eyes stung hot with tears. Someone was playing a not very funny joke. You could throw all the demons you wanted at me, but you just didn’t go around throwing my beloved dead relatives in my face.

  “Why do you need Kylie’s help?”

  V-I-L-L-A-G-E I-N D-A-N-G-E-R. D-O-O-R I-S O-P-E-N-I-N-G.

  Everyone looked back at the door that we had left wide open. Clearly, he hadn’t meant that.

  I swallowed back the hot lump in my throat and swiped the back of my hand over the tears on my face. “When he says ‘door’…does he mean ‘gateway’?”

  “Possibly,” said Doc in quiet, reverent tones.

  Nick yanked the earphones from his ears so violently we all startled.

  “Oh my God. You have to hear this.” He rewound whatever he had recorded, turned up the volume, and held the phone at arm’s length toward us.

  I listened hard, but all I heard was static and a rushing sound. But as it played again, I could start to discern something…something like a voice.

  ssssssssHELPssssssssCAN’TsssHOLDssssssssssOFFsssssssssssssBESILENT!sssssssssssKYLIEssssssssssssssssssss

  I walked closer to the phone, listening again as it looped a fourth time. “What’s happening? What is it?”

  Nick’s eyes were wide and shiny in the darkness. “That was two voices.”

  Yes. They were distinct. The one pleading. The other commanding his silence. What was I going to do? What could I do?

  Jolene stared at me, eyes rounding. She pointed. “Look!”

  I thought she was looking at me, but she pointed past my shoulder. I sure didn’t want to, but slowly, I turned around. At first all I could discern was a glow on the far wall of the parlor. Something like a passing headlight from a car, only it wasn’t moving. But then it began to brighten. It was a misshapen glowing light that seemed to form into a figure.

  “Jesus Christ,” I muttered, half exclamation, half prayer.

  Arms separated from the glow, lifting, imploring. More details began to form until it was clearly my grandpa. My hand flew to my mouth, covering my gasp.

  “Kylie…” A wispy voice, like something from the next room, something you weren’t certain you heard. “Kylie…you’re so big.”

  “Grandpa?”

  “Not much time. Very sorry…about the…” His words were garbled. The least little sound—the creaking of the house, a branch scraping against the roof—would drown him out.

  “Grandpa.” I moved closer. I could see more details. The way his hair was parted, the overalls he liked to wear, the worn buckle on one of the straps. I could almost see the blue of his eyes, almost smell the smoky aroma of his pipe. “Why do you need my help?”

  “The village is in danger. I’m sorry. Only you…only you…”

  “I know. I’m trying.”

  The apparition shook its head. “Close the door. You must close the door.”

  “I’m trying, Grandpa! I’m really trying.”

  “Hansen Mills. Ordo. Stop them. The door…”

  He turned to look at something the rest of us couldn’t see. “Wait!” he told someone. “Wait…I’m not done telling…”

  The glowing apparition exploded into shards of light that faded like firework embers and disappeared.

  “No!” I lurched forward toward the place he had stood.

  It was cold there. He was gone.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Who was with him?” I hadn’t stopped clutching my arms. I was as cold as if I’d been standing in a snow drift. “Who was with him?” My voice was quiet, and if you didn’t know me, you’d mistake it for fear. But it wasn’t fear. I was enraged, and this was the only way—standing perfectly still, raising my voice barely above a hoarse whisper—that I could prevent myself from tearing the place apart.

  Nick furiously fiddled with his phone, checking all his gauges and dials. “There’s no way to know…unless. I can download the recording to my laptop at home and see if I can separate the layers of sound. I might get some clues that way. If I can really analyze it, maybe I can detect exactly what it was.”

  “Erasmus!”

  He was instantly beside me. His expression of concern soon faded under my steady gaze. “Was that really my grandfather?”

  “It was a true spirit, if that is what you are asking.”

  “I’m asking if that was my grandfather.”

  He shook his head. “I have no way of knowing exactly who that was.”

  I turned away from him. “Jolene, why did he change what he was saying when you asked who it was?”

  She looked meek and chastened, packing away her things. “What’s your grandfather’s name?”

  “Robert Stephen Strange.”

  “Well, it seemed like he started to spell ‘Robert,’ I think. But I suspect when he saw it was you…he just switched to the familiar. They do that.”

  “Okay. So he wasn’t spelling out what was with him?”

  “It could have been another spirit, Kylie,” said Doc. “One not as friendly.”

  “Can we try again?”

  Nick swiped on his phone, head shaking. “I’m not getting any more readings. I’m sorry, Kylie.”

  “Does that mean he’s gone?”

  “For now. He could be back. But it isn’t likely to be tonight.”

  “Fine.” I headed toward the door.

  Seraphina, of all people, scrambled after me. “Kylie!”

  I didn’t stop. I headed for the Jeep and yanked open the door. She slid into the doorway, blocking me from driving off. “Kylie,” she said softly. “Please. Wait just a moment. I know what you must be feeling…”

  “Really? You know what I must be feeling? All of you?” I scanned them all as they gathered around my car. “You know what I’m feeling? I really don’t think you do.”

  “Kylie…”

  “No, seriously.” I pointed back toward the house. “That was my grandfather back there. My dead grandfather. Who went to the trouble of manifesting himself to warn me about…whatever! And in the meantime, there is still this kelpie out there trying to kill me, the Ordo kidnapped my ex-boyfriend to try to get the Booke, which, by the way, I would gladly give them if only I could, and I can’t have one freakin’ night where I can have a decent date with a really nice guy! So no. I don’t think you know how I feel right now.”

 
I shouldered her out of the way, slammed the door, and started the car.

  My tires kicked up gravel and spun as I backed up and tried to punch it out of there. I jostled all over the place down that winding road, bruising my shoulder against the window.

  So what? I thought, as I hit the main road and headed home. So what if I was being overly dramatic. These were dramatic times.

  And goddammit! I was having a good time with Ed. All I wanted was one measly night…

  Erasmus appeared abruptly beside me. I didn’t so much as blink. “What do you want?”

  “Nothing,” he said, and kept silent for the whole ride back.

  I pulled in front of the shop, shut off the engine, and simply sat in the dark. The headlamps went out when the engine was killed. Outside the Jeep, the night was quiet. Only the engine clicked and chattered as hot metal cooled in the frigid darkness. My hands rested loosely on the steering wheel.

  “What’s it all for?”

  He turned to me. His dark eyes glittered in the dim light, but he said nothing.

  “What’s life for anyway? I guess you don’t know. You have a purpose. But humans kind of drift a little, trying to find it. But I guess I, too, now have a purpose. And once it’s done—I mean really done for good—what then? I just…live my life? Run my shop? Get married? Have kids? That is, if I survive at all. What, Erasmus? Why me? Why did the Powers That Be bring me here?”

  He looked at me steadily, barely breathing. “Perhaps they didn’t.”

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure they did. Of all the people on this planet, they singled me out. Or is it one of those things that you’re just born to? Fate. Written in the book of life before I was born. Because I have the Strange blood running through my veins.”

  He was still studying me, eyes roving over my face, but offering no answers.

  I leaned my head back against the headrest. “How am I supposed to do this? There’s nothing particularly special about me. I have no secret powers. And I’m so tired.” I closed my eyes, listening to the silence. Until a warm hand covered mine. Snapping open my eyes, I watched as he gingerly took my hand and held it, turning it, examining it.

  “You do have special powers,” he said hoarsely. “In these hands is an unnatural obduracy that is native to mortals. Only they possess it. For mortals do not possess immortality, or the ability to fly, or to breathe through water, or great individual strength…but they do have this.”

  “I’m special because I’m…stubborn?”

  “You would be surprised how valued a thing like that can be.”

  “You seem pretty stubborn to me.”

  “I can assure you, were I not tied to the book, I would have left some thousand or so years ago.”

  “Well, that’s a testimonial, I guess.” I sighed, liking the feeling of my hand in his. “I don’t like that my grandfather was brought into this. It was almost like…I don’t know.”

  “You knew nothing of your family history prior to the book’s appearance?”

  “No. Nothing. I didn’t even remember that we used to come here in the summer. And that’s a pretty big thing to forget. But you said that maybe there was a spell on me. Or the family. Or everyone, since no one remembers the Stranges.”

  “Yes. Might your grandfather have left you a clue of some kind? A journal perhaps?”

  “I don’t know. No. Unless…he left something at the house. I’ll have to go back. But not tonight. During the day. I couldn’t stand going back at night.”

  I released the seat belt and rolled out of the car. He followed me in and took up his place in the dark. At the stairs, I paused. “Do you…want to come up?”

  What was I asking exactly? I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure.

  I waited.

  His eyes registered a kaleidoscope of emotion before he lowered his head and slowly shook it.

  The demon was wise. Wiser than the mortal. I nodded and climbed the stairs alone.

  I woke with a start. Confusion. The leftover feeling of dread from a dream I couldn’t quite remember. The dark. The pull from the Booke. Ley lines crisscrossing my mind’s eye. No, the dream was fading, but something else wakened me, made my heart hammer.

  I jumped when the howl seemed to shake the house. It was close. I scrambled out of bed and cast the drapes aside. Looking down the moon-bathed backyard framed by the impenetrable dark of the surrounding woods, I saw nothing stirring. The howl echoed again. My restlessness made me throw on a robe and hurry down the stairs to creep across my shop and peek out the front curtains.

  Definitely movement out there. Shadows crossing shadows, and then the sound of cats fighting. Or was it cats? Something was out there growling and snapping and rolling over and over. A shout. Was that a human calling out?

  The crossbow whirred through the air and landed with a smack into my awaiting hand. It was armed.

  Without a second thought, I cast the bolt aside and threw the door open.

  A cold blast of arctic air assaulted me as I stood poised on the threshold in my terry robe, crossbow aimed into the gloomy street.

  A pause. I held my breath, listening.

  “Kylie!”

  I jumped. “Jesus, Erasmus!” But then I saw the look on his face. “What’s wrong?”

  “I heard it but could not find it.”

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  In a blink he darted away into the darkness while I aimed recklessly into the scattered shadows. Just show yourself! I couldn’t stand not knowing. I wanted the suspense over with. The kelpie I knew. It still terrified, but at least I knew what to expect. How could I fight something I didn’t even know?

  A twig snapped. I almost called out, but I knew it wasn’t Erasmus, not with his careful and silent steps. Slowly, I pivoted, the butt of the crossbow in my shoulder, one eye closed as I took aim down the sight.

  A rustle, and something staggered onto the moonlit street. It looked like a man with ragged clothes trailing off his arms and legs, like every zombie movie I’d ever seen. My finger closed on the trigger.

  “K-Kylie…”

  The creature talked. They never talked…as far as I knew. And there was something about that voice… He got close enough that a splash of moonlight struck his face.

  “Jeff!”

  The crossbow fell from my grip and I moved toward him just as he crumpled to his knees.

  “Jeff!” I caught him, or nearly, before he fell all the way. His face was bloody, his clothes shredded. His eyes were dazed as I grabbed his face and looked at him squarely. “Jeff, what happened?” It looked like he was attacked by a bear. Those animal sounds…

  “It came at me. There was no time to run.”

  “What did?” I scoured his face, his body. He was bloody, but he didn’t look mortally so. Not mauled. A mountain lion? Did they have them in Maine? “Jeff, what attacked you?”

  “I don’t know. It…it looked like a wolf. Help me inside. It’s still out there.”

  I got under his arm and braced him, lifting him up and dragging him in. I kicked the door shut and lowered him gently into a chair. The first aid kit was in the kitchen. I grabbed it and rushed back, landing on my knees beside him. He looked worse in the light.

  “You’re gonna be okay.” I wasn’t sure if that was more for him or me. My hands were shaking as I reached for my phone. “I’m going to call my friend Doc.”

  “Call 9-1-1,” he said with a groan.

  His arm. The most blood was there and I laid it carefully on the chair arm. “Jeff, I’m going to clean things up a bit…”

  “Kylie, why aren’t you calling 9-1-1?” His eyes were wild and…strange.

  “Jeff, I’m pretty sure that that was no ordinary wolf out there. We can’t just send you to a hospital. I have to call Doc.” But when I leaned over him to look at the wound, he pulled back so violently that I almost fell over. His eyes were focused on my amulet hanging free from my shi
rt. Had it been a wolf…or was it Erasmus?

  I punched in Doc’s number and waited for him to pick up. “Sorry to wake you,” I said when he got on the line, “but Jeff’s here and he’s been attacked by…something. He’s been bitten and scratched, and his clothes are all torn up.”

  “I’ll be right over.”

  I tossed the phone into the other chair, relieved he didn’t waste time on questions. I stood over Jeff, reluctant to do any ministering. Had Erasmus done this? He had a mouth of vicious teeth when he went all demon. But the crossbow…

  I glanced around for it and remembered I had left it outside. But I distinctly remembered that it had been armed, and it was never armed around Erasmus.

  A breath of air and a pop announced his arrival. Jeff was staring straight ahead, hands clutching the chair arms. He didn’t seem to notice Erasmus.

  “Did you see it?” the demon asked.

  “Did I see it? No. I thought you might have.”

  “No. It was too quick. I see it got him, though.”

  Jeff suddenly turned toward Erasmus. “It was big and hairy. It was a wolf, wasn’t it?”

  “A wolf…” Erasmus narrowed his eyes, thinking.

  “I don’t feel so good,” said Jeff.

  “Let me clean you up…” I came closer again, and again Jeff flinched away.

  Headlights swept over us and a car pulled up out front. The Rambler rattled to a stop and Doc hopped out. He pushed through the door in his pajamas and robe, doctor bag in hand. Immediately he went to Jeff. “Now, young man, I’ll fix you up. Can you tell us what happened?”

  He allowed Doc to minister to him, so I stepped back. Clutching the amulet in my hand, I was almost comforted by its warmth, but when I looked at Erasmus, he was staring at it, just as Jeff had done. He said nothing as he raised his eyes to me.

  “I was just coming through the woods to keep an eye on Kylie’s place,” Jeff was saying.

  “What?” Tearing away from my hazy thoughts, I stomped my foot. “You were supposed to be gone. You were supposed to have flown back to California.”