Dead Village (10 page)

Tully stared anxiously at Tim for a moment before speaking.

“Well, I wouldn't feel too guilty about it if I were you Tim,” Tully stated. “Until any of us come up against something like this, who knows how we as individual's will react.”

Tully hadn't even realised that Scraps was now curled up asleep on his knee, as he and Tim talked on.

“Anyway, let God share some of the blame for that one Tim. I mean you didn't put the little girl into the position she is now in, and after all, you at least tried to help her.”

“Thank you, but your words don't help me Tully. I should have done more for the girl, or at least tried harder. Anyway, I intend to go back there, whether I'm frightened or not. You see, I just can't live with this burning guilt inside of me. I constantly think about the little girl. That it is my duty to free her from the dark side. And I don't care if I die in the attempt. Why, if the good Lord should will it, then so be it.”

“Well Tim, you may soon get the chance to fight the supernatural forces. But not back in the small town of Wellington. Right here in Cappawhite. I think you have come out from the frying pan and into the fire though, cause' what we are dealing with here in Cappawhite is not a little dead girl. Not by a long chalk.”

“Why, what is it?”

“Why this thing is at least ten foot tall, and it eats little dead girls for breakfast,” Tully added as an after-thought.

“Well I wouldn't underestimate the little girl's power,” the priest said.

“Listen Tim, these creatures have a power you simply can't imagine. Why I once saw one of these things kill twenty soldiers down in the forest. All of them were fit young bloody men. Young fighting men, with a whole lifetime in front of them, may I add. Each one trained and armed to the bloody teeth, but it despatched these soldiers in about twenty damn seconds. Tore them to pieces it did. And then it left them in bloody meat parcels across the forest floor.

And now Tim, it's after me.”

Father O'Neill sat upright in his chair.

“Maybe you're mistaken Tully. Maybe it's not going to come for you. Mayb…”

“Its coming for me Tim, It's coming,” Tully interrupted.

“But there was one of these creatures long before the one that killed the soldiers,” Tully added. “A brave coloured man by the name of Otis Tweedy. He took care of it though. He saved his wife, but forfeited his own life in the attempt.”

“He must have been a very brave man,” the priest replied.

“Yes, he was. But he came back as one of them, the one we destroyed.”

“The one you destroyed?”

“Yes, we had it trapped in the mine, but more of these things came and released it. God sent someone though, and this man used his power against them and rid us of them. Now at least one of them has returned, or maybe it's a different one. But what seems really puzzling to me is that each time these things return they seem to grow more powerful. I know how dangerous they are and what they can do Tim.”

“This is all very disturbing Tully. You see, I've been informed about some policemen and a full compliment of soldiers who have been having very real dreams and flashbacks of being killed in the forest of Cappawhite. Sergeant Hutchison, a policeman from the village being just one of them. Why these men all seem to be suffering from mass hallucinations or brainwashing of some sort.”

“No Tim, these men are not hallucinating. These men, including Sergeant Hutchison were all killed, and I witnessed some of the slaughter first hand.”

“So what you're saying is that these men have somehow been resurrected. C'mon Tully, how could this be? Why it's impossible.”

“Are you not just finished telling me about the little dead girl in the lane who attacked you? How is that possible then? Why, go try telling that damn frightening story to anyone Tim, and they'll lock you up and throw away the key. Look, I know this is very hard for anyone to believe, but it's true none the less. I'm not lying or making this up Tim. Why you yourself have just said you heard things about it, rumours.”

“Yes, in my dealings with the people I heard disturbing things.”

“Well then, what more proof do you need?” Tully asked.

Tim frowned and rubbed at his chin.

“Look Tully, as I said, I have been told things, but rumours, and no more, of a demon in the forest. That's all they are, only rumours, and nothing that anyone has seen personally. In most cases I simply put this sort of talk down to people's suspicions and imagination, because mostly this is what these things turn out to be.”

“Yeah, well they are not rumours Tim. I didn't imagine it, and I can assure you of that. Just as you claim you didn't imagine that little girl. It's there, in the forest, right now. Cause I seen it.”

There was silence for a moment as the young priest stared into the welcoming fire.

“So, did you imagine the little girl then? Well, did you, Tim?”

When Tim raised his head he had tears in his eyes, and Tully realised just how strong the love this man had in his heart for his fellow man.

“No Tully, I didn't imagine this. The little girl is real all right, and of this I have some proof.”

“You have proof?”

“Well, proof, of a sort maybe, yes.”

*  *  *  *  *

Father O'Neill excused himself for a moment and stepped through a small side door that led into the main church, followed by Scraps who quickly jumped from Tully's knee.

The young priest was confused by all these events, but he had no doubt of Tully's complete honesty.

Tully was the straightest man he had ever met, anywhere, he supposed, and it would be hypocritical of him to tell Tully he disbelieved him, whilst telling the stories of the things he knew himself to be true. He said a quick prayer before returning, and now he felt frightened, because if Tully was right, then something evil was stalking the forest of this little village, and he, he felt, would be duty bound to help them.

As he returned, he held a large brown envelope in his hand, which he gently sat on the small table and tapped at it a few times. Tully sat with his head in his hands and watched him intently.

“This is a letter that may explain some things to you, Tully, and may prove that what I say is true.”

“Before you read it out Tim, would you please let me use your phone to contact Francis?”

“The lines are dead Tully.”

“Can you fetch Francis down here then? I would also like for her to hear what you have to say.”

“I'll do that straight away Tully. You look after the little fella' till I return,” the priest said as he threw on his coat, hat and scarf.

“Don't leave the church Tully,” Tim added.

He glanced around at Tully and the sleeping scraps, who looked as though he wouldn't thank you to go outside on a night like this one anyway.

“Don't worry Tully,” Tim spoke. “Things will work out for you in the end. God will see to that.”

Tully raised his head and Tim could see that he had been crying. But when Tully spoke his voice gave nothing away.

“At this moment in time Tim, I feel that nothing can defeat this thing. Maybe this is the end of time for all of us?”

Tim stared for a moment.
Maybe this man is right,
he thought, as he made his way from the church and into the darkness.

Tully stared at the phone for a moment.
The lightning must have hit the telephone lines if they're down,
he thought.

He wished now that he had a mobile phone of his own, but Tully was the first to admit that he still clung to the past regarding any advancement in society, and he vowed never to have one. He stood up, Scraps held under one arm, and slowly walked to the telephone which sat in the centre of the corner table. Maybe the phone line was only down temporarily. He rubbed his fingers lightly over the dial, almost caressing. Then he quickly lifted the receiver, and the unmistakable dialling tone droned loudly.

“Tim, the phones working again,” he shouted as he spun around, but the priest had gone.

Tully quickly dialled Francis's mobile number, but it was dead, and now he was really worried. Because if there was one thing about Francis. It was that she always made sure her phone was fully charged up and switched on, and a fear for her came over him. He dialled again, nothing.

What if Francis has gone to look for me,
he thought.
What if she's gone into the forest, and…?

He could feel his heart rate increase as he thought about her. He lightly but quickly lowered Scraps to the ground and ran out through the large hallway door.

Scraps barked loudly and sprinted into the other room, after the small shadow of a mouse, then darted quickly as the small shadow moved behind the chair.

The little mouse was quick, but Scraps was quicker still, and as he caught it, he shook his head violently from side to side. He stared out through the open doorway as he held the dead mouse tightly in his jaws, and watched.

CHAPTER 11

Dan Winters had made his mind up about what he had to do next. He had always been out on the road covering different stories since he started at the paper, so Lynn wouldn't even question him about where he was going. He couldn't tell her about his visit to Ireland under any circumstances. And although he felt guilty about deceiving her, he was really doing it to save her. The chances were slim, and he believed that he may be killed by this powerful demon. Now that he had Lynn back though, he just didn't want to lose her again. Because if he was to lose her, then he would also lose his children, and in that event, he did not want to live on without them, so he had no option but to return to Ireland and see this thing through.

“Are you sure you are all right to return to work Dan?” Lynn asked.

“I'm fine, but I'll be gone for a while, maybe a week or more. The boss wants me to cover a story over in Vegas.”

“Well, I hope the Mafia aren't involved in this story,” Lynn laughed.

“No, it's nothing like that honey. It's simply a gambling thing, seems a few guys have been working a system over there.”

“A system?”

“Yeah, you know, counting the cards, electronically communicating with each other. They've been creaming it in small amounts. A few grand at a time, but now they've been rumbled.”

“Well, just be careful.”

“Careful is my middle name honey.”

Two days later they said their goodbyes and then Dan was off.

He didn't know what it was he wanted of Thomas Lapahie. It was simply a gut instinct that the big Indian had the answers to the problem, even if he didn't know just what the problem really was.

He was unsure though if Thomas would even remember him. Because if Thomas's memory of the events had been erased from his mind, just like his were, then how was he going to explain to him of the frightening events at Cappawhite? Better still, would he even believe him anyway?

*  *  *  *  *

When he arrived at the house, he was greeted enthusiastically by Thomas. He, like Dan, had been having dreams. His mind had also been purged of the memory of his meeting with Dan, and his grandfathers meeting with Otis.

Why, just a few days ago he would not have known Dan, because somehow his memory had also been erased, and he would have probably thought of Dan as a madman. Now though, his memory was returning rapidly to him, but he was still as much in the dark over this feeling as Dan had been. He wasn't sure what Dan wanted from him. This was a dangerous thing Dan had been involved in before. Now it seemed he was getting involved again. His grandfather had warned him never to confront the forces of evil, unless he himself was a victim. He hugged Dan affectionately, and Dan couldn't ignore the strength of the man.

His mind wandered back to one of the many stories his grandfather had told him many years before.

‘It was long before our lands were discovered by the outsiders,'
his grandfather exclaimed.

A young chief, by the name of, Wind In His Hair, was bathing at the bend of the river, some distance from camp, when he heard strange voices, talking in a language he had never heard before, or could understand.

He dragged himself from the river and crawled into the high grass. When he came to a thick tree, he could see them, six in all, but very small, like children, but clothed in strange garments. The chief instinctively hid down low. Then he saw it. Whatever it was, he had never seen anything like this before. The large object, the size of thirty t-pees, sat out on open ground. Different coloured suns shone from it, and the top of it moved around like a swirling river. Wind In His Hair became very frightened by what was in front of him. He tried to work out in his mind just what this thing could be. As he watched them, a dog from the village came from nowhere and barked viciously at one of them, teeth bared. The small figure pointed at the dog, and it fell dead. Then they entered the large vessel and flew into the air, faster than any bird, and disappeared through the clouds. The young chief approached the dog carefully, but could see no wounds on its body. As he gently probed at it with his finger, the dog got up and walked away, unhurt.

Wind in His Hair ran into the camp and screamed a warning to the others, but when he relayed what he saw, everyone laughed at him. However, the very next day he returned to the river bank. He saw that in their haste to leave, the small people had left something on the ground. It was a small, strange object, with markings and moving colours, and frightened, he kicked it into the deep grass. The people of the village treated him badly after this, and shunned him. It was when his woman, Dancing Rabbit, laughed at him though, that he finally snapped. He ran down to the river as the elders of the tribe gathered to discuss their affairs, and retrieved the object. Sometime later, he burst into the lodge, and held the object at arms length. Now they knew he was telling the truth, and now they weren't laughing. Some of them visibly began to tremble.

A pulsating sound emulated from the strange object, and when he touched a coloured bead on it, it lit up with a bright light.

‘You must return this evil thing to where you found it,' old chief Black Horse announced.

‘Why did you bring this thing to us?'

‘To show you that I spoke the truth when I said the strange flying people left it on the ground.'

‘If what you say is true, then they will return for this great magic stone, and they will hurt our people because of this thing. You must get rid of it, and quickly.'

Wind in His Hair ran from the village, and threw it far into the fast flowing river.

It must have sent a signal to these beings, because, two moons later, they returned in their giant craft. Wind In His Hair and his woman had already gone, after he was exiled for bringing this upon them.

When the craft returned, and the figures appeared from inside of it, Chief Black Horse, with headdress and spear in hand, bravely confronted them, and he spoke loudly.

‘What is it you want in this place?'

They communicated in our language, and asked where the device was, but the chief didn't know. He said that Wind In His Hair had taken it.

The old Lakota Chief peacefully asked them to come talk with them, and smoke some.

But they hadn't come back to talk peace, because they killed the old chief where he stood, and everyone else in the village.

Wind In His Hair couldn't stay away though, and when he returned with Dancing Rabbit a few days later, he found the slaughter of the people.

There were no marks on the bodies, and he was sure it was the flying people who did it. He believed the object was still at the bottom of the river, and he dived deep many times until he found it. He pushed at the buttons and coloured lights immediately began flashing all around it. Then in fear, he smashed it with a rock and buried it.

As they rode off though, they could hear strange noises come from where they buried it, and Dancing Rabbit fell to the ground, dead. Wind in His Hair galloped off, never to return, and he was never heard off again. The object was never found.

This, Thomas's grandfather had told him, was why he should never get involved in others problems. And not when they involve the Great Spirits. Thomas Grandfather had realised that what Wind In His Hair had seen, was not from the Great Spirits, but visitors from the stars, and like all strange visitors, they were not to be trusted.

‘No matter where the strangers come from,' his grandfather had told him, ‘the dark place, white man country or Great Spirits from the other side, they had all come, hell bent on the mass destruction of our people.'

*  *  *  *  *

“Are you all right Thomas?” Dan said, breaking the tall Indians trance as he stood at the doorway, staring toward the sky. Thomas shook his head and placed a welcoming hand on Dan's shoulder, then he guided him inside with a friendly smile.

The interior of the place was pretty much as Dan had remembered it on his last visit, with hundreds of Indian artefacts everywhere. The old wicker chair had gone though, replaced by a plush leather suite, and new chairs that somehow looked out of place in the darkened room.

Thomas bade him to sit down

It took Dan over an hour to explain about the demons in the forest of Cappawhite, and how his dead wife had been returned to him after they had destroyed the beasts.

This, he said truthfully, was the only reason he was here now. He was doing this for Lynn and his children.

Thomas moved his head in a strange rotating movement and seemed very disturbed at Dan's disclosures.

“The dead should remain dead from this world,” he stated. “It is the way.”

“No! She's my wife!”

“It is the way!” Thomas said, much louder than before.

“And I say it's not the freekin way. It can't be!” Dan replied even louder.

Thomas also realised that there was an awesome power here, and Dan instinctively knew that the big Indian felt frightened by it.

Dan needed Thomas's help, but he would not listen to Thomas telling him his wife should stay dead.
He may know more than most,
Dan thought. But he's not God, and God alone was the only one could decide his wife's fate.

He didn't want to cause a scene or a fall out with Thomas though, so when he next spoke he was very calm.

Dan explained to Thomas about the cleansing lights he had passed through after they had finished with the demons at Cappawhite.

These lights were like some sort of time machine, only different. These lights had the power to change the past. Something though had somehow gotten into the light with him, and now this being had the power to re-arrange the situation.

He remembered back to the little bear's head inside the light with him, at his feet, just before he fell into the sleep.

“It must have been a great power to change what has been decreed; a very great power indeed. In fact it may have been Satan himself,” Thomas declared.

“No Thomas, it was only a tiny little toy bears head.”

Thomas stared out from the window.

“Remember, the devil takes on many forms, my friend, and you just may have looked upon one of them.”

This sort of thing wasn't what Dan had wanted to hear from Thomas, because this kind of talk frightened him.

He had wanted to hear Thomas reassure him that everything would be all right, that Lynn would stay alive and be with him always. Instead though, the big Indian was talking of forces that were almost as powerful as Gods, and now Dan was almost sorry he came.

*  *  *  *  *

Thomas moved over into the centre of the room and made some chants. When he had finished he opened a drawer and removed a silver key.

He waved a finger at Dan, before walking across the room to a darkened corner. A tall narrow cabinet with a large black lock, that looked as though it had been painted many times over throughout the years, stood in the corner, and Dan was surprised he hadn't noticed it before this.

Thomas hesitated for a moment, seemingly unsure about doing what he was about to do. He took another quick glance at Dan, then opened the locker and removed a long narrow package which he carefully laid on the floor in front of him.

As Thomas slowly unravelled it, Dan sat with a puzzled look on his face.

He instinctively knew though, that just like the little totem charm Thomas had given him on his last visit, this was something that would probably be very powerful indeed.

The little totem had saved his life back then when he fought with the creature in the forest in Ireland, and he simply knew better than to disbelieve the strange amazing powers of these Indian people.

When Thomas had finished unveiling the object, Dan was surprised to see that it was just an old spear head with a wooden shaft. A very short spear which was only about five feet long.

The metal point was battered looking and somehow bent and Dan at once wondered where Thomas was going with this.

“This spear you see before you my friend, has the blood of many of our enemies on it. It has been with our people for many hundreds of years. Many tribes have seen their leaders fall down and die, killed by this spear when they attacked our villages. Only Lakota warriors, selected by their bravery in battle could carry this spear. No cowards or weak hearts could bring the spear into battle or they would immediately be struck down dead.

I will tell you the story of the spear if you wish, but first you must have some refreshment my friend.”

Dan thanked him, and after they had eaten Thomas slumped into a chair.

“What I tell you now has never been told to any white person before. You must take the sacred vow of our people, so that you may never tell it to anyone who is not worthy to carry it. You must swear to this, and if you break this bond you will die within six moons. Are you willing to do this?”

“Um, aren't you taking a chance here, I mean what makes you think I'm worthy?” Dan asked.

When Thomas answered it was short and straight to the point.

“I take no chance.”

Dan watched as Thomas carefully lifted an old scarf, gripped Dan's wrists, and loosely tied it around them.

“Do you swear it?” Thomas repeated.

Dan looked into the big Indians eyes, and he saw the truth. He at once realised that if he ever revealed what Thomas was going to tell him, then he would be dead. Of this he was certain.

He swore the oath in a loud voice.

Thomas sat down and relayed the story of the spear.

*  *  *  *  *

“Five hundred years ago, when our lands were unspoilt, we had a different enemy. The tribes would often fight and steal from each other, and our sworn enemy then was a tribe called the Ojibwa. They were led by a ferocious leader named Wolf, and he and a band of these braves came to plunder our village.