Death Trance (31 page)

'What's wrong?’ Randolph asked. He began to retreat towards Michael, the host of the dead silently following him.

'I'm not sure. I thought I saw something.’

'What? What is it?’ Randolph asked. He felt seriously alarmed now. It had been traumatic enough to touch the hands of people who had been dead for forty years, but to think there might be real demons around was terrifying.

'What can you see?’ Randolph asked, straining his eyes towards the distant shadows beneath the trees. He wished he had his glasses.

Before he could say anything else, Michael seized his sleeve. 'Run!’ he shouted and began pulling Randolph back along the pathway.

Randolph stumbled and almost fell. 'What is it? For God's sake, tell me!’

'Leyaks!’ Michael barked.

The dead spirits in the cemetery began to mill around in rising panic.

'What about them?’ Randolph shouted. 'What about all these people?’

They're dead!’ Michael retorted.

Randolph hesitated. He could see the girl called Natalie raise her hands in horror, and for the first time, he could see the leyaks, grey-suited, ashen-faced, ten or eleven of them emerging from under the trees. A terrible moan of fright went up from the men and the women in the cemetery and the children began to shriek and cry.

'How can we leave them?’ Randolph begged. He had sudden visions of massacres that he had helplessly witnessed on television: Vietnam, Lidice, Petrograd. Now he had the chance to save some of the victims, or at least to save their spirits.

But Michael darted back, snatched at his sleeve again and screamed at him furiously, 'They're dead, for Christ's sake! They're dead! There's nothing you can do! Now run or you won't stand a chance!’

Randolph looked back at the dead. Behind them he saw the eyes of the leyaks burning in their faces like coals smouldering in the grates of hell. He saw something dark hurtle through the air; it might have been a child. Then Michael was wrenching at his arm, pulling him helter-skelter along the brick pathway towards the cemetery gates.

Although they ran with all the swiftness that had startled Reece and Stroup, the leyaks ran equally fast. They were still more than fifty yards from the gates when Randolph glanced anxiously to the right and saw the glowing orange eyes of two leyaks as they ran parallel to them between the rows of headstones. He turned and looked quickly behind and saw five or six more, their grey faces contorted in hunger and fury, their eyes alight.

Nobody in the cemetery apart from Randolph and Michael could see the leyaks because the creatures belonged to the realm of the dead. The Dutch women in their black coats had found their husbands and were now promenading solemnly between the tombs, carrying their sprays of white flowers, unaware that only three pathways distant they were being passed by the fiercest of ghouls. They turned with disapproving frowns as Randolph and Michael ran by, but somehow Randolph and Michael were little more than shadows themselves, and the sound of running feet.

The cemetery gates were still agonizingly far away, and beyond the gates there was still the street to be negotiated before they reached the temple. Randolph began to gasp for breath. He was fit but he had not run as far and as hard as this since he was twenty years old. The blood began to thunder in his ears and his heart pumped wildly and he knew he was close to having to give up.

The leyaks who had been running parallel to them now began to edge their way nearer, hurdling the rows of headstones one by one. The leyaks behind them were gaining, and another group appeared on their left-hand side.

Randolph gritted his teeth and tried to force one last burst of strength from his body but it was too much. His right knee gave way; he staggered, almost regained his balance and then pitched onto the brick path, grazing his hand and lacerating the side of his chin.

He saw Michael stop, turn, hesitate. 'Run, for God's sake!’ he gasped at him. 'Don't worry about me!’

Almost at once he felt a heavy body hurtle on top of him, and then another, and the next thing he knew, there were savage claws tearing at his face, teeth ripping at his clothes. He screamed in terror, thrashing and rolling and trying to beat off the leyaks. Their stinking breath blasted into his face; their eyes burned incandescent in front of him. He felt fiery pain as one of them raked its claws all the way down the inside of his thigh, and then a third leaped on top of him and sank its teeth into his bicep.

Oh dear Jesus,
he thought,
they're tearing me apart.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

He could hear somebody shrieking. He could hear snarls and furious roars, and then suddenly he was tossed sideways across the path. A hand touched his shoulder, a friendly hand. And then he was being pulled upright, onto his knees at first and then onto his feet. He staggered forward blindly, his face smothered in blood, one of his arms dangling uselessly, and then he collapsed again.

A cloth was wiping blood from his eyes. He looked up and saw Michael. 'Have they killed us?’ he asked through swollen lips.

'Hurry!’ Michael pleaded, his voice that of one who knows it might already be too late.

Numbly Randolph looked around. He could not believe what he saw. The cemetery path was crowded with the Dutch dead and they were throwing themselves at the leyaks, scores of them, men and women, beating at the beasts with upraised fists, jumping on their backs to try to bring them down to the ground, shrieking in anger and overwhelming the leyaks.

'My God,’ Randolph whispered. 'My God, Michael, they're doing it for me.’

With blazing eyes, the leyaks tore into the spirits of the Dutch dead, tearing and snatching and biting. Yet the Dutch continued to press forward and to pull the leyaks down, pressing on in hopeless but almost happy self-sacrifice.

'Come on,’ Michael urged, and Randolph struggled to his feet. But he found it impossible to take his eyes off the grisly struggle going on in the middle of the cemetery. Although there were so many of them, the Dutch had no chance against the leyaks. The creatures were demonic berserkers, mindless and vicious, the snarers of souls. Their filthy, hooked claws ripped through spiritual tissue, tearing the spirits of men and women into tattered shreds. There was no blood but the injuries were hideous nevertheless. Randolph saw an old Calvinist preacher fall to the ground with half his face clawed away. He saw a beautiful young girl pirouette and collapse, her leg savaged by the teeth of two ravening leyaks. He saw a soldier caught from behind by one leyak, while another snagged open his stomach.

The shrieking was the shrieking of those souls who had been torn too badly to drag themselves away and who knew that the leyaks would carry them back to Rangda's lair, where they would be devoured. There was no final peace for souls devoured by Rangda. They would be ingested into her black and slippery system with their consciousness intact, forever.

Randolph turned to Michael in desperation. The horror of this struggle was that to the real world, it was silent and invisible. The black-dressed mourners continued up the path towards their dear departeds' graves as if nothing were happening. And the pain of it was that so many of these dead people had given up their immortal souls to save Randolph's life.

'Come on,’ Michael said in a voice that was now gentle and encouraging. 'Come on, Randolph. They can't last much longer. You owe it to them to get away.’

Randolph nodded and turned. Following close behind Michael, he limped, staggered and stumbled the distance to the cemetery gates. There he clung to the railings for a moment, racked with pain, shivering, and heaving for breath, but when Michael said, 'Come on,’ again, he managed to push himself upright and follow him out into the Jalan Vyasa.

The last face he saw was Natalie's. She had torn herself away from the struggle and run after Randolph to the cemetery gates.
'Don't forget me!’
she called.
'Don't forget me!’

But then three leyaks were on her and Randolph saw their mouths gape open in ferocious hunger and tear at the girl's neck.

He did not need any further encouragement to limp his way along Jalan Vyasa and back towards the Temple of the Dead. Shoppers and stall-keepers noticed their passing but when they looked again, the pair was gone. They stumbled their way through the strange, foggy light of the world of veils, past fragrant
satay
stalls and long batik scarves that blew gently and silently in the hot morning wind.

'Can you make it?’ Michael asked.

'I think I'm bruised and bitten more than anything else. Come on, keep going, I can make it.’

They turned the last corner into Jalan Mahabharata and Randolph hobbled the length of the street until he saw the stone-carved guardians of the gate, with their thick moss coverings. But there were still twenty yards to go when Michael reached out, took his arm and said, 'Hold it. Something's wrong. The temple gate is open. Somebody's been there.’

They approached the temple cautiously. A moped blurted past, the odd, slow-motion effect of its motor sounding to Randolph like drums and death rattles and magical sticks. Michael pressed himself against the green copper doors of the temple and made a quick survey.

'It's Ecker,’ he said. 'Ecker and another man. They're waiting for us in the inner courtyard. They've both got guns.’

'How did he find us?’ Randolph panted, leaning against the wall.

'I don't have any idea. But the minute we reenter the real world, out of our trance, they're obviously going to try to kill us.’

Randolph glanced anxiously behind him but so far there was no sign of the leyaks. 'What can we do?’ he asked. 'I don't know whether I prefer to be shot or torn to pieces. It's kind of academic, isn't it?’

Michael bit his lip. There's a chance that we could lure Ecker out of there. The leyaks aren't going to be long though. It must have been Ecker disturbing the trance gate here that alerted them. The leyaks will know where to find us.’

Almost as he spoke, two grey-suited figures appeared at the far end of Jalan Mahabharata and began to walk quickly towards them. Michael looked in the other direction and saw another leyak approaching from the opposite end of the street.

'We don't have any time,’ he told Randolph. 'Stand in the doorway there and wave your arms,
slowly,
mind you, real slowly, because you're still in the death trance and Ecker won't see you properly if you're too quick.’

'What are you going to do?’

'I need a mirror,’ Michael replied, and without any further explanation, he jogged quickly across the street to the Sambal Restaurant, a small run-down Indonesian
rumah makan
with grubby plastic blinds, and a patriotic painting of Soekarmen, the governor of Bali, propped up in the window.

The leyaks were closer now; Randolph could see the orange smouldering of their eyes. He took a deep, painful breath, pushed open the temple door a little farther, lifted his arms and began to wave and shout as slowly and as deliberately as he could.

'Ecker! Reece! Whatever the hell your name is! I'm over here! I'm over here!’

He saw Reece turn in amazement, Reece with his white ice-hockey mask. He saw the other man turn around too. Another blank, white face. They were almost as frightening in their appearance as were the leyaks, and he knew now that they were just as determined to destroy him.

'I'm over here!’ he yelled at them. 'What are you, chicken? Are you chicken, Reece? Are you only brave enough to kill women and children? Come on and get me if you're so goddam tough!’

He glanced back into the street anxiously. The leyaks were less than seventy yards away now and approaching fast. There was still no sign of Michael. He had disappeared into the doorway of the restaurant and showed no sign of coming out again. Randolph hoped to God that he hadn't decided to save his own skin, leaving Randolph caught between three flesh-tearing beasts from the world of the dead and two cold-blooded killers from the world of the living.

Reece and his henchman began to run across the courtyard towards Randolph, their guns raised. Randolph was caught between Reece's slow-motion mortal running and the irresistibly rapid advance of the leyaks. He checked the street again, desperately frightened now that the leyaks would reach him well before Reece did.

He stopped shouting and waving his arms and stood half-in and half-out of the temple doorway, his head lifted, and thought to himself,
This is it. My God, I can't escape from this.
He had always known that he would have to die but he had never imagined that death would approach him like this, like three black express trains rushing in on him from all sides.

He could hear the dusty sound of the leyaks' feet on the sidewalk, the snarling undertone of their breathing. He could hear Reece shouting something at him: a long, slow, indistinct blurt of sound. He saw Reece stop only a dozen feet away and raise his automatic.

It was at that instant that Michael came sprinting and leaping across the street; he was carrying in upraised arms a large, dazzling mirror. With his sneakers scuffling on the sidewalk, he hurtled himself around, pushed Randolph away from the temple door with his back and held the mirror up towards the oncoming leyaks.

'Come and get us, you stinking corpses!’ Michael screamed at them. 'Come on, come on, this is what you wanted! Come and get us! Good fresh flesh for your Mistress Rangda!’

The effect of the mirror on the leyaks was extraordinary.

They stopped only a few feet away and raised their hands to protect their eyes, edging off as if in sudden terror.

'What's happened?’ Randolph asked. He was pressed against the wall, well out of Reece's line of fire. 'Why have they stopped?’

They're frightened,’ Michael panted. He lifted the mirror higher and waved it at the leyaks threateningly. 'They think I've gotten hold of a picture of them and they're frightened. There's only one way you can destroy leyaks and that's to get a picture of them and then burn the picture in front of their eyes. They don't realize that this is a mirror.’

'How long is that going to hold them off?’ Randolph wanted to know. 'And what the hell are we going to do about Reece, or Ecker, or whatever he calls himself?’

Just then Reece appeared at the temple doorway, his gun lifted, and stared at Randolph and Michael through the slits in his mask. Although his face was covered, it was obvious that he was astonished at what was going on. To him, the leyaks were invisible and all he could see was that Michael was waving a large restaurant mirror from side to side and Randolph was leaning against the temple wall, his shirt and pants torn, his face covered in congealing blood.

Reece took off his mask and Bob Stroup did the same. Reece nodded to Stroup and Stroup said, 'Let's get inside. I don't know what the fuck you're trying to do but you're going to attract too much attention out here.’

Michael worriedly licked his lips and said to Stroup, 'Hold this mirror for me. Then I'll come in. Randolph -’ and with a jerk of his head, he indicated that Randolph should step inside the temple. Randolph eased himself away from the wall and obediently shuffled through the gate.

'I ain't holding no mirror,’ Bob Stroup said indignantly.

Reece cocked his automatic and raised it so it pointed directly at Michael's head. Only Michael and Randolph could see the three flame-eyed leyaks who were now trying to shuffle their way closer to Michael on three sides, hoping that one of them would be able to jump on him before he could destroy the 'picture.’

'Listen,’ Michael urged Bob Stroup. 'You know what's going on here, don't you?’

'Some kind of screwball religious ceremony or something.’

'The death trance, don't you understand that?’ Michael had to enunciate his words very slowly to make himself comprehensible.

Reece made two or three quick gestures and Stroup said, 'Okay. One of our friends just got killed here while you were away. He put on that mask thing you've got lying there in the courtyard and it chewed his goddam head off.’

So that was it, thought Randolph. They had interfered with the sacred mask of Rangda. No wonder the leyaks were alerted so quickly. And with the sharpest of pains, he thought of Natalie.

Michael insisted, 'You have to hold the mirror for me while I get inside the temple. Otherwise the same thing is going to happen to all of us.’

Bob Stroup was annoyed and baffled. 'Do I believe you or not?’ he demanded of Michael. 'I mean, what is this shit? There's nothing out there. The street's empty. What do I have to hold that goddam mirror for? What are you trying to do? You trying to make me look like an asshole?’

God,
thought Randolph,
don't worry about that. You look like one already.
He was almost ready to collapse from shock and pain.

After a tense and uncertain moment, Reece gestured that Stroup should go along with Michael and take the mirror. Stroup tucked his automatic into his belt and took the mirror sullenly. Michael took one quick step backwards, onto the sacred ground of the temple, and then gripped the back of Stroup's combat jacket.

Stroup had been out of the leyaks' reach in the real world, but Michael was still in the realm of the dead and his grip on Stroup's clothing was just enough to draw an infinitesimal part of Stroup's spirit into the realm of the dead with him. It was similar to the way in which Michael had guided Randolph's spirit out of his body and into the skies above the temple. It was insubstantial and indefinite, but since the leyaks had the fiercest appetite for living spirits, for them it was enough.

'Will you let go of my -’ Stroup snapped, annoyed and twisting around to shove Michael off.