by G R Jordan
Havers tried to ignore Austerley’s words but something inside was already analysing these ideas. The other terror that raged within Havers was the thought that there were possibly eight thousand people in their beds who were prey for this pirate horde. And I can’t protect them, thought Havers. I have nothing for them.
One doorway caught Havers’ attention as he sped past it. In the blur of the moment, it seemed that there was a burning cross on the door. It made no sense to Havers and he shouted at Austerley to look.
“I see it! Cross on fire, Havers. I see it. No idea what it is but I see it,” said Austerley.
Havers swung the car hard into a car park and Austerley could see that they had arrived at a building with a large spire. There was a priest standing in the car park. The priest walked past the car to the edge of the building’s grounds. The pirate horde then rounded the corner but stopped abruptly at the car park’s edge. Captain Smith pushed his deckhands to the side as he strode to the front, eyes fixed on the priest. In Smith’s wake came the nurse, Tania, naked and walking with a swagger.
“Enjoying this, priest?” provoked Tania, parading herself with no dignity.
“Be gone, witch, you have no charms to interest me,” replied the priest, his eyes never flinching from Captain Smith.
“We want the one you call Kirkgordon,” said Captain Smith. “Give him to me or I’ll rip your throat out. I’ll spike your soul with hellfire and—”
“Silence, beast!” The priest’s words thundered out. “This is sanctuary and your words shall not be permitted.”
Havers had exited the car and now stood with the priest. He watched as Smith turned to his rabble and waved his cutlass in the air. The deckhands opened their mouths to yell but Havers heard nothing. It was like someone had turned off the sound at a rock concert. Arms waved, fists shook, but all was quiet.
Smith signalled a charge and the deckhands raced forward. Havers turned to run but the priest stood motionless. The first deckhand to step onto the car park turned from a ghostly form into a mere trace of luminous smoke. Those behind him combusted in a similar fashion. Quickly the surge stopped and the horde quietened, wondering what had happened.
“This is sanctuary!” bawled the priest, “and the citizens of hell are not welcome.” He turned his back on the horde and smiled at an astounded Havers. “Well, Arthur, I don’t know about you, but I could murder a cuppa. Should we give your friend a hand?”
“Okay, Ohlos, I haven’t seen anything quite like that before. A little protective ring around a person or a small group, yes, but actually covering a whole building? Lethal to them as well. Very impressive, my friend.” Havers sipped his tea, letting his statement hang, begging a response.
“It isn’t just the church, Arthur. There’s more than that.” The statement from the priest wasn’t proud, just matter-of-fact.
“Ah, yes, the burning cross on the doors. Incredible. All the people of the town trapped in and the evil trapped out. I am impressed, Ohlos. Truly impressed, for once.”
“I was doubtful I could do it but with our descent interrupted the influence is much stronger.”
“Ohlos, although impressed, I am also confused. Our descent? Do you mean to hell?” Havers raised his eyebrows.
“I find it hard to believe you’ve never been. But yes, you are correct. Descent is a figurative word here. We have not moved into the ground here but across, how shall I put this, other planes? The motion we felt was from that movement, but someone stopped it. Someone prevented us from reaching the other side. And so we see the fire in the sky.”
“Hellfire?”
“No, Arthur. It’s just a physical manifestation of the boundary. We are in limbo. A place between. And that is as far as my understanding goes. We are in another place. Exactly where… well, I don’t know.” The priest dropped his chin, staring at his tea.
“What’s wrong, Ohlos?” asked Havers.
“We won’t stay here. At least, I doubt it. Something will give and when it does we will descend, and all this protection will go. We need a reversal, some way to put it back. But I don’t know how.”
“I have a man that might. I think it is time we assemble all our players. Find out what’s required. Time for you to meet Mr Austerley. I warn you, he’s not too keen on clergy.”
“With all the troubles in the news, no one is. I’m pretty used to it.”
Havers disappeared through the living room door and then reappeared with Austerley hobbling behind him. Holding the door handle to steady himself, Austerley looked the priest up and down, noting with disgust the clerical collar.
“Mr Austerley, please meet Father Jonah,” announced Havers.
“Are you here to sink us?” snapped Austerley.
“It’s towards the back of that book, isn’t it? I never read it, at least not that section. But to control it! There’s one alive in you, isn’t there? Dreams, dreams that cripple. Excuse the pun.” Father Jonah looked into Austerley’s eyes. “May God have mercy on you. You saw Dagon.”
“Face to face, priest,” spat Austerley.
“And it was only the efforts of Mr Kirkgordon and myself that rescued him from it,” said Havers.
“He shot my foot! I have no foot because of that arse. You and Churchy can stick your rescue mission,” raged Austerley.
“Churchy?” asked the priest.
“Mr Kirkgordon,” Havers enlightened him. “They have pet names for each other. Dear friends, really.”
“And you stopped the descent! Mr Austerley, I am impressed. Please, take a seat.”
The compliment made Austerley beam and he became less cantankerous. Havers stood and helped the prematurely aged occult professor to a seat. A moment later, Kirkgordon entered the room. Austerley glared at him.
“What happened to you? I said you shouldn’t smoke. Bloody bad for you,” said Kirkgordon.
“You can piss off, Churchy. Some bloody protector, you!” Austerley’s wizened face became even more contorted in anger.
“I was drugged. Our friend the priest has worked wonders in getting me back on my feet. Anyway, you were in a care home and you couldn’t even look after yourself in there.”
“Gentlemen, enough,” ordered Havers. “When we get everything sorted I will happily let you kick the verbal knackers off each other but until then you are on my payroll and will behave. Understand me? Good. Ohlos, bring my colleagues up to speed, please.”
Father Jonah outlined what he knew and Austerley became quite pained. Once the priest had finished, Austerley leaned forward in his chair to speak and the others remained silent.
“The padre is right about where we are. And he’s right we won’t stay here. It’s complicated, but the barriers I put in place with my chants won’t hold forever. There’s a spirit returned to wreak havoc on this town for some reason. An old pirate, I think. Privateer, to be accurate. He is the threat, and when commanding his crew he is dangerous, but he’s not in flesh form yet. He needs to take on a physical form. He’s to inhabit a live body. And that body is you, Churchy.”
“Me! Why the hell me?”
“Because she likes you. That nurse you were flirting with in the home. The one whose arse you kept checking out. The one you took out for a drink. She’s a witch, draining life from people and giving it to her beloved.”
“Bloody hell,” gasped Kirkgordon.
“And she wants your body. That dance she was doing signified lust and hunger.”
“How does a little dancing make her a witch? Just because she got a bit jiggy with it.”
“Churchy, she was naked, exposing herself like a top shelf magazine. It’s occult dancing. It’s very intoxicating and it calls up things from hell.”
“She’s probably being used.”
“No, Churchy, she’s the core, she’s the one who started this, and now she’s riding like a hooker on the arm of a spirit. And a right bastard of a one at that.”
“Damn, I was an alarm call from bedding her.” The roo
m fell silent as they stared at him.
“I guess the time with your wife did not go so well, then?” proposed Havers.
“It’s complicated,” rallied Kirkgordon, but he hung his head in shame. “It’s bloody complicated.” I know my sins will find me out, thought Kirkgordon, but a witch? That’s just unfair, damn well unfair.
Plans
There were six of them assembled in the living room. A government agent, a former protector, a historical building curator, an expert on the occult and all things fantastical and a priest with his twelve-year-old daughter. Outside, outwith the grounds of the church whose manse they were sitting in, was a horde from hell, devilish ghostly pirates led by a captain with his naked lover in tow, a lover who had been a nurse at the town’s care home before summoning the captain and draining life from the home’s residents. It isn’t the craziest situation I’ve found myself in, thought Havers, but it’s close.
“We need to pool our knowledge and thinking on this matter, everyone, as I don’t believe any of us have a full picture on what is happening yet.” Havers scanned the assembly, seeking any discontent. “Let’s start with our expert. Mr Austerley, tell us what you know.”
“I know I’m a lot older than I should be! You could’ve intervened a bit quicker, Havers.” Austerley shook his head at his treatment so far.
“One, Mr Austerley, that doesn’t help. Two, you find me anyone else who could have extracted you from such a horde armed only with some wooden sticks and I will hire them immediately and head for the Costa del Sol and a happier life. And three, kindly answer the question and show these good people why I felt it necessary to save your precious skin in the first place.” Havers held his stare.
Austerley looked annoyed. “Well, if that’s the—”
“Four, I refer you to point three. Now, what do you know?”
Austerley glowered at Havers but focused on the task at hand. “Not a lot, if truth be told. When I was in the care home, one of the nurses, specifically Kirkgordon’s naked chick—”
“Hey, that’s unfair!” interjected Kirkgordon.
“Enough, Mr Austerley. The details please,” insisted Havers.
“Well, she wore a rather peculiar necklace with a swirling symbol that looked familiar. So I asked Havers to get a certain book from a Swiss library so that I could learn more about it. I was drugged before I could read the book, and I woke up on Gibbet Point having the life drained from me before Havers kindly took matters into his own hands.” Austerley nodded his appreciation at Havers.
“Continue,” said Havers.
“Well, I have now been able to study the book and can say that earlier assertions are correct. She is a witch, and a dangerous one. But also a possessed one.”
“Possessed?” asked Kirkgordon, “How?”
“Generally by a spirit coming into the body and setting up house. What sort of detail are you looking for?”
“There’s no need to be like that, Indy.”
“Who’s Indy?” asked the priest’s daughter.
“Sorry, just a name for Austerley. Because he’s so Indiana Jones. Can’t keep his nose out of any artefact,” responded Kirkgordon.
Havers took charge of the conversation again. “Enough, everyone, let Mr Austerley continue.”
“It’s the design, you see. It’s very old and comes from a line of witches who passed down their knowledge through the generations. I suspect that Captain Smith’s bitch—” Austerley saw Havers’ eyes flash fire and his face indicate with a nod that there were ladies present. “Sorry, his lady, was probably part of the line, as is the nurse.”
“She’s only eighteen, Austerley. How do you get into a line of witches at eighteen?” demanded Kirkgordon. “There didn’t seem to be much of a witch about her at all.”
“On the contrary, Mr Kirkgordon,” said a passive Havers, “she almost seduced a married man who should have been alert to outside influences. She also appeared in Austerley’s room just as I was about to discover evidence. Oh, and she danced an erotic, blasphemous dance and stared right at me with eyes shining with hellfire. And I know hellfire! So, for an eighteen-year-old, she showed a number of signs.”
Kirkgordon folded his arms like a spoilt child. I didn’t even sleep with her, he thought.
“Now, if we can continue,” said Havers. “After all, it’s only the lives and souls of this town that are on the line. Mr Austerley?”
“My difficulty is in pinpointing the branch of witch lore she comes from. There are fourteen possible options, although three of those are so little used that I find it unlikely they would be employed here. The necklace symbol, although rare, is too vague. It shows witchery in general but not the specific type. Was there anything else she touched or was concerned about?”
“I don’t know if it means anything but there was a brooch,” offered Kirkgordon. “It was on the bedside of a patient. One of the older ladies was complaining about it but Tania shifted her on smartly.”
“A brooch?” asked Havers. “What sort?”
“Emerald, I think, with diamonds and some writing.”
“That was beside Mr Austerley’s bed too. It was there when she hurried me out of his room,” said Havers.
“Get it for me. I need to see it,” demanded Austerley.
“Okay,” said Havers, “time for a little walk, Mr Kirkgordon. Maybe Nefol, too.”
“Who?” asked Kirkgordon.
Havers pointed at the twelve-year-old girl.
Shaking his head, Kirkgordon railed, “Why the hell would you risk a child’s protection by taking her out there?”
“Mr Kirkgordon, it’s no risk. She’s going for your protection.” Kirkgordon looked at the priest in desperation but all he got in return was a smiling nod. Sitting back into his seat, Kirkgordon despaired at the madness his work involved him in these days.
“Search the building,” said Austerley, “and bring anything else interesting you find.”
“It’s not like we have loads of time, Indy,” complained Kirkgordon. “If you hadn’t noticed, the place is crawling with ghosts and I’m just guessing this sanctuary doesn’t cover the care home. And as it stands, apart from Havers’ sticks, we are low on weapons.”
“Mr Austerley is right though, Mr Kirkgordon. We need to search the place. And as for weapons, I suspect our priest has something lurking in his cupboards.” Havers was clearly agitated by Kirkgordon’s continued interruptions. “The other matter we need to address is our lack of knowledge about the history of these episodes. Miss Goodritch, I believe you can be of some help in consultation with Mr Austerley, but he would like to go further than a mere verbal exchange.”
“Miss Goodritch,” began Austerley.
“Jane, please, just Jane.”
“Ah, Jane. Havers said you were the local expert on the town’s history. I’ll need to tap into that expertise in order to understand where this Captain Smith is coming from. But, more than that, I’ll need to see and touch any artefacts you have.”
“Really,” said Jane, fascinated.
“Oh, yes. When one has a disposition such as mine, the mere presence of a device or memorial of power will alert my occult senses. I am what they call attuned. It’s why they fear me.”
Kirkgordon burst out laughing.
“Mr Kirkgordon, this is not the time,” snapped an angry Havers. “Kindly contain your juvenile one-upmanship with Mr Austerley. There is work to be done.”
“So who’s going to get these artefacts, Havers?” countered Kirkgordon. “Again, there’s a load of ghosts running around the neighbourhood and Austerley’s one foot short of a sprint.”
“Just concentrate on your job and leave that to the experts, Mr Kirkgordon. Your candour is becoming quite annoying.”
“One important point,” announced the priest, standing. “If you get into difficulty you can run into any sanctuary I have set up. All the houses, garages, coffee shops, whatever. However, you will then be trapped. I couldn’t risk the general
public leaving their abodes once I had set up the refuges. Only I can let you out. And I need to be with you to do it. Are we understood?” There was a murmur of agreement. “Good. Now, a moment of prayer.”
Kirkgordon watched Austerley roll his eyes when the priest bowed his head. Finding it hard to focus, Kirkgordon made the motion of closing his eyes, but in his head he was addressing God directly: You couldn’t have pointed out she was a witch? I mean it’s not like I’d have just ended up having an affair. I would have been her demonic lover if it had all gone to plan. Great job of looking out for me.
Then another voice entered his head: Sanctuary. You seem to be in the right place despite your stupid actions. I guess someone else was doing my job!
When the prayer was finished, Kirkgordon stood up and approached Havers. Havers’ eyes warned that the next question had better be sensible.
“Havers, are you sure you’re covered? I mean, taking Austerley with his foot and the woman as well. She’s no athlete.”
“If I needed help, I would have asked. Understand this, Mr Kirkgordon. When this place was getting dragged, flown, dropped or whatever the verb is for it, the only one who stopped it was Mr Austerley. He is an extremely potent weapon, like so many of the people in this room. You need to stop bemoaning their faults and start building them up and using them. They are all terrified underneath, and with good cause. So I need you to start being a leader and a source of unity or I will drop you. And I use drop in our professional sense. Am I clear?”
Damn it, Havers, you’re as clear as you are cold, thought Kirkgordon. Ice to the core. Consummate professional. I hope Her Majesty is proud of her employee. Despite the inner turmoil, Kirkgordon just nodded.
The priest led Kirkgordon out of the room and took him to another door in the corridor. It led to a flight of stairs which descended into the depths of the manse. At the bottom of the descent, Father Jonah flicked a light switch. Kirkgordon gasped at the sight.
