The Keeper of the Crows

by Kyle Alexander Romines

  “I’m sure he wiped the weapon,” Jezebel commented. “Whatever else he may be, he’s not stupid.” She stood up and walked over to the desk. “Get back,” she added before kicking the door open to Logan Randall’s office.

  The room was empty.

  “He isn’t here,” Thomas said.

  “These bodies haven’t been here long,” Eve said. “We spoke with your editor less than fifteen minutes ago, which means he couldn’t have gotten far.”

  “Good work,” Thomas said to Eve, trying to ascertain her current state of mind. She seemed skeptical of everything he told her about Salem Alistair, even though he omitted the most fantastical elements of the story.

  The look on Jezebel’s face pulled his attention away from Eve. He didn’t know how close Jezebel was to Heavy Markham, but she looked devastated by his death. Thomas could relate. The man who gave him a second chance was dead. Max died while helping Thomas with the same case that led to his untimely demise.

  Something else worried Thomas too, and it stopped him from going over to console the sheriff. The book he read in the Thistlewood library said the pagan settlers claimed that blood sacrifices strengthened the entity worshiped by the early settlers of Gray Hollow. Two more people were now dead. Inside the station, all the electricity was out. Their cell phones weren’t working. Outside, it was almost pitch black.

  “You two,” he heard Eve say. “We may have other problems to worry about.”

  Jezebel and Thomas saw her point out the window. Crows filled the blackening sky, flocking from every direction. In the streets, dozens of scarecrows emerged from the shadows.

  ***

  Chuck Howard was almost home free. For the better part of an hour, he had been certain he was going to die. Lost on the backcountry roads, he could see the mounting storm in his rearview mirror.

  Now, as he sped through the town, the nightmarish landscape was nearly behind him. He could see the massive bridge leading out of Gray Hollow in the distance. The crows were too far behind to pursue the vehicle over the bridge.

  In the rearview mirror, he could see several scarecrows walking into the town. Chuck no longer cared how he was going to explain this to his uncle. He only wanted to live. The van left the barren road behind and passed onto the old bridge.

  Then a wall of blackness plummeted from the sky and surrounded the bridge, forming a wall of pure shadow in the bridge’s center. Chuck cried out, unable to see the city on the other side through the fog. He felt the bridge splinter and give way under the weight of the black presence. Chuck felt around for his seatbelt, but it was too late. The van tumbled into the icy depths of the lake below. His screams died when he hit the water.

  ***

  Inside the forest, the Keeper of the Crows stepped free; now that all was darkness, there were no shadows. There was nothing to keep him from sacrificing all the people in the town.

  But first, there was still the matter of revenge to attend to.

  Chapter Twenty

  The wind pounded against the exterior of the Clayhorn Feed Mill. Joel Grayson went outside to secure loose bags of grain in case of rain. The threatening sky raged above as layers of black clouds blotted out the sun. Joel felt a chill coming on. He pulled on a pair of gloves and grabbed one of the heavy bags.

  He could’ve used help, but Luke Jesse didn’t show up for his shift. In fact, he hadn’t even called. Joel frowned as he hoisted another bag over his shoulder. It wasn’t like Luke to be this irresponsible. He intended to talk to Judy about it. Despite the storm, Joel’s eyes brightened when he thought of Judy Conway. The two had grown much closer in the years since the mill owner first hired him.

  The wind picked up again, howling with each new attempt to penetrate the mill’s walls. The storm almost seemed alive. Even though it was only a few hours into the afternoon, Joel knew it was time to close up shop. There were no customers, and there weren’t likely to be any more in this weather.

  I should go check on Judy, he thought. Joel glanced back at his truck. The radio sat lifelessly on the counter inside the store, full of nothing but dead air. Joel wondered if a tornado was on the way.

  “Al,” he shouted, in an effort to rouse Al Pittman. The homeless man had slept behind the building again last night. Joel wasn’t sure how Al could stand the biting cold, but he didn’t have the heart to wake the man. With the storm approaching, he decided it was better to make sure Al was safe.

  “We need to get inside!” he yelled. When Joel rounded the corner, Al was gone.

  What on earth? Other than sheltered bags of grain, mulch, and seeds, he saw no trace of the homeless man. Then he saw something standing in the shadows at the edge of the forest behind the mill. As Joel walked in its direction, the figure slipped behind a tree.

  “Al,” he said, starting to get angry. “We don’t have time for this.” Joel could see his own breath. “Come out of there.”

  He squinted to see farther into the darkness and he saw Al’s body lying on the ground in a heap, a frozen expression of horror on his face.

  A scarecrow stepped out from behind the nearby tree, its hands covered in blood.

  ***

  Jezebel’s eyes mirrored the swarming darkness outside the window. Her face tightened with resolve.

  “Come on,” she said to her companions. Thomas and Eve went after her, stepping over the dead bodies on the floor. After sliding a large key into a door near the back of the station, Jezebel used her flashlight to illuminate the room.

  “This is the armory,” Jezebel said. “I hope you both know how to use a weapon.”

  “I do,” Thomas said. “I can show Eve,” he added. He looked at his ex-girlfriend. Eve appeared shaken by the sight of the monsters lurking outside and the dead bodies in their midst.

  “This doesn’t make any sense,” she whispered. Her shaky voice grew stronger. “Things like this just don’t happen.”

  “The scarecrows are alive,” Jezebel said plainly. “There is no other explanation.” Eve started to protest, gave up, and fell silent. Wasting no time, Jezebel began loading rifles, shotguns, and ammunition into a duffel bag on the floor.

  “You know the rifles might not be enough to keep the scarecrows back,” Thomas said. He recalled their last encounter with the monsters all too well.

  “Maybe not,” Jezebel replied. “But the guns might slow them down long enough for us to get to the novelty store.”

  Thomas looked around the room. As he picked up a revolver, a thought occurred to him.

  “Get the flare guns,” he said. “We know they’re vulnerable to fire.”

  “Good idea, but be sure to conserve them. We don’t have many.”

  From the shadowed room, the three could hear the swelling storm gathering around the town.

  “What are you planning to do?” Eve demanded. “What are these things?”

  Jezebel was busy adding lighter fluid canisters to the duffel bag, so Thomas decided to answer Eve’s question. “They were built by Salem Alistair. Now they’ve come to life. One of the scarecrows seems to be human underneath. I think he’s behind this, although I’m not sure we want to run into him again.” Thomas stuffed the pistol in his belt and picked up a shotgun. He looked at Jezebel. “Do you still think Percy Durer knows what’s going on?”

  “If anyone can help us, it’s him,” Jezebel said as she zipped up the duffel bag. She tossed both reporters flashlights. “He knows more than he told me. I could see it in his eyes when we spoke. I’ll understand if you don’t want to go with me.” She stopped and gazed down at the floor. “Logan Randall is still out there somewhere. There’s no telling what he plans for us. You’re not from Gray Hollow, either of you. What happened to Salem . . . it’s my responsibility to protect these people, and mine alone.”

  Thomas stopped her. “I’m not going anywhere. I told you when we first met that you weren’t going to be able to get rid of me, and I meant it. You are one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever encountered, but you’
re not doing this alone.”

  Her eyes moistened. At that moment, Thomas finally realized how alone the sheriff truly felt. Jezebel had blamed herself for the probable death of Salem Alistair for years. She devoted her entire life to protecting others to compensate for that guilt, in effect punishing herself by not living her own life. Thomas understood that guilt better than most.

  He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close to him. They stood locked in a tight embrace for all too brief a time before Jezebel pulled away. Thomas was sure Eve was staring at them with righteous indignation.

  “Thank you,” Jezebel said. “Now let’s get out of here while there’s still some light in the sky.” The three ran out into the sweeping winds toward Jezebel’s car. Thomas took a few moments to show Eve how to use the gun. There was no anger in her expression, only another look of regret.

  “I’m sorry,” he thought he heard her whisper. He couldn’t hear her above the sound of the thunder. Although Eve flew from New York for a reason, Thomas was now afraid to know what it was. She seemed on the precipice of saying something but stiffened each time he looked at her. He decided to give her time. If she had something important to say, she would tell him eventually.

  “Stay in the light,” Thomas yelled. “For as long as you can, anyway.”

  “Why the light?” Eve asked as she looked up at the sky. Night surrounded Gray Hollow in a circle that was growing closer to the town square by the second. There was only a sliver of gray light remaining in the center of town, looming like the eye of a storm.

  “Every time we’ve encountered these scarecrows, it was night,” Jezebel said. “Each of the murders occurred when the sun was down.”

  They continued racing toward the police car parked nearby. Just as Eve started to climb into the passenger door, an immense flock of crows rose from the roof of the station behind them. Thomas saw the crows flow into the air like a living cloud. He was too far away to reach her in time.

  “Get down!” he shouted. Eve spun around and found herself face to face with the impending attack. She pulled the trigger of the gun Thomas gave her. The gun was silent, and she realized she had forgotten to turn the safety off.

  Jezebel tackled Eve to the ground before the swarm could reach her. The flock tore into the cruiser instead and crashed through the windows. Unlike the scarecrows, the birds did not appear to be inhibited by the light. Thomas fired the shotgun repeatedly into the air to provide cover for the two women by the car.

  “Go!” he shouted as some of the dead crows dropped from the sky. Jezebel swung the duffel bag back across her shoulders and ran with Eve across the parking lot. The swarm of crows spread off into the sky, vanishing into the blackness that continued growing closer.

  “Thank you,” Eve said weakly to Jezebel.

  “We need to get out of here before they come back,” Jezebel said with a nod.

  “I’m not sure they’re coming back,” Thomas said. “At least not yet. The scarecrows seem to be able to think for themselves, but I don’t think the crows are that smart.” He wasn’t completely convinced of his theory, but at the moment it was all he had to go on.

  “Durer’s shop is on Old Main Street. That’s several blocks from here. We have to hurry.” Jezebel looked at the battered cruiser. “It looks like we’ll have to go on foot, for now. Until we can get another vehicle.”

  The three ran down the deserted street. Thomas searched for any trace of life. He saw one frightened man through the glass windowpane of the grocery store. There were also screams in the distance where the scarecrows roamed freely.

  As they hurried away from the station, Thomas noticed the dark cloud envelop the building. The three ran toward the park outside the station. They were careful to remain in the ever-shrinking light outside the stores at the end of the town square.

  The crows returned. Shrieking, the birds dived toward them. Thomas and Jezebel discharged their weapons into the air, which scared the crows away.

  “Look out!” Eve shouted. One of the scarecrows had noticed the gunshot and was now lumbering toward them. Thomas fired his shotgun. As the blast knocked the creature back, a blunt instrument struck Thomas across the face. He dropped his weapon and fell to the ground. A second scarecrow stood nearby. The creature swung a wooden club at him, which barely missed him. Eve shot at the monster with her pistol, but the bullet merely passed through straw.

  “Thomas!” Jezebel yelled. As she lifted her shotgun to blast the creature away, yet another scarecrow burst out of the window of the department store on her left. Jezebel spun around and fired. The shot took one of its legs off. Jezebel dropped the duffel bag and started to run toward Thomas. From the ground, the damaged scarecrow wrapped its gloved fingers around her ankle. Jezebel tripped and fell against the hood of a car. She tried desperately to pry herself free of the creature’s grip.

  “Get back!” Eve shouted, firing one of the flare guns from the duffel bag at the monster’s back. The scarecrow erupted into flames. Now free, Jezebel dived for her shotgun. She shot the next scarecrow with the weapon, ripping it to shreds.

  Separated from the others, Thomas crawled under the belly of an abandoned van at a nearby gas station. He could see his pursuer pacing around the van, dragging its club on the ground. He prayed the scarecrow couldn’t see him. Gasoline trickled from several nozzles, left unattended by customers who had fled when they first saw the scarecrows approaching. The gasoline formed a stream flowing from the gas station.

  Not all the customers had escaped; from underneath the car, Thomas saw at least two dead bodies. More screams rang out in the background, and he could see a small group of people scurrying for their lives. More scarecrows spilled onto the street by the second, drawn by the unseen force responsible for the chaos. There were more of them than Thomas thought possible.

  Thomas blinked and looked again for the scarecrow. He stuck his head out from under the vehicle. Was the creature gone? Suddenly, he found himself staring into its terrifying, stitched eyes. The monster reached under the van and pulled him out. He kicked the scarecrow in the chest, and the monster stumbled back. Although the creature was strong, it was nowhere close to the thing that had almost choked him to death at the Daniels Farm.

  Spurred on by a burst of strength, Thomas seized the club and in one fluid motion struck the monster’s body with enough force to remove its head. He dropped the club, pulled out his gun, and ran over to his friends. Jezebel and Eve were firing into a wall of twelve advancing scarecrows. Even with his help, they were hopelessly outnumbered.

  “I’m out!” Eve shouted, looking down at her weapon. There was no time to reload.

  “Use one of the flares,” Jezebel said.

  The scarecrows surrounded them in a semicircle. Their horrific faces remained frozen in twisted grins, all staring at the three people stranded in the heart of the town. A figure approached in the distance.

  “You,” Thomas muttered. The scarecrows parted in the middle, allowing a tall figure to pass through. The jack o’ lantern head seemed to glow supernaturally, as did the eyes of the crows perched on the living scarecrow’s shoulders.

  “The time has come,” the Keeper hissed. “For Gray Hollow to be cleansed. The crows will feast on the flesh of all its inhabitants, and the darkness will be sated.” In his right hand was a razor-sharp scythe.

  “Who are you?” Jezebel whispered. She stared at the monster with an intensity Thomas had never seen.

  “Don’t you recognize me?” the monster replied. “It’s me, Jezzie.”

  “No,” she stammered. Her eyes went wide with shock. “You can’t be . . .”

  “Alive? Your friends took care of that. They buried me alive while you had fun at Cavern Lake. You said you would protect me. You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

  “I’m sorry, Salem,” she whispered, rooted to the spot.

  Thomas watched her carefully. Whatever this creature was, Salem Alistair or not, his words were evil. He was paraly
zing the sheriff with her own guilt. When the Keeper was finished toying with them, Thomas was sure Salem would kill them all. He inched away and moved back toward the van parked under the gas station. He had a plan.

  “You failed me when I needed you most,” the Keeper said to Jezebel. Then you forgot about me, never even bothering to search.”

  “I thought you were dead.”

  “My corpse lay in the cornfield, trapped. The spirit of the forest kept my heart beating, combining my body with its power. Now I am the Keeper of the Crows. My vengeance is at hand. The harvest will be reaped.”

  “This isn’t you,” Jezebel whispered. There were tears in her eyes. “Don’t do this. You aren’t evil.”

  “I will plunge Gray Hollow into eternal darkness. Already the bridge to the lake has been destroyed. Any attempt to escape through the roads on the other side of town will be in vain. The very forests themselves answer to me, with the branches, vines, and thorns. Just like you failed to protect me, you will fail to protect this town.” The Keeper raised the scythe in the night sky. Jezebel remained frozen, unable to move.

  Thomas spotted the stream of gasoline leading out from the gas station. He reached into his jacket, careful to avoid being seen by the terrifying sentries. He still had Gary Davis’ lighter in his pocket. He pulled it out and started the flame.

  “Get back!” Thomas shouted to Jezebel and Eve.

  He dropped the lighter. The Keeper’s glowing eyes shifted to the ground, and he roared with rage.

  Instantly, a wall of flame shot up between Jezebel and the Keeper of the Crows. Thomas grabbed Jezebel and pulled her back just as the gas station exploded. Flames erupted across the street in a brilliant display.

  “Grab the duffel bag,” he said to Eve while picking up Jezebel’s fallen shotgun and pointing it at the scarecrows. The twelve monsters that had surrounded them writhed in pain as their straw bodies turned to ash. The Keeper of the Crows, however, watched them, unharmed, through the flames.