Rockinghorse (16 page)

“Can you recall anything else?” Lucas asked.

“Yeah, but it's dim. OK, I got it. He said if they—I guess he was talking about the Brotherhood—ever got a toehold into the churches, look out, 'cause they would then soon control the entire county.”

“I wonder if they did?” Tracy asked.

“Did what?” Kyle looked up.

“Get a toehold in the churches?”

“Damned if I know, Tracy. I think that's all my granddad ever said on the subject. I was just a boy when he died.”

“How did he die?” Lucas asked.

“Shot from ambush. The family figured it was some moonshiners that got him. Granddad got tough on illegal whiskey making.”

To paraphrase Johnny, Lucas thought, lots of “good guys” got killed in this county. And something else: I can't get over how Sheriff Bill Pugh just “happened” along in the nick of time. “You don't know what they are?” Lucas asked. “The Brotherhood, I mean. What they represent; anything more about them?”

“No,” the trooper admitted. “Compared to the Invisible Empire, the Brotherhood is as silent as a snake. I've heard bits and pieces concerning them all my life. You know, kids talking; that type of thing. Nothing concrete. Hell, Lucas. I haven't heard a word about them in years; not until you just now brought it up.”

“They represent evil,” Louisa said. “I have an uncle who belongs to the Brotherhood. I hate him. Oh, he has never come out and publicly
admitted
his membership—but I know. The same way I know a lot of things others don't. The Brotherhood worships everything that is evil, but not necessarily Satan—although the Dark One is certainly a major part of the Brotherhood. To make matters worse, the Brotherhood professes a deep belief in the Lord God; that is how they sway their converts. What makes the Brotherhood so insidious is that no one knows whom to trust. The deacons, the elders—even the minister of a church—might be a part of the Brotherhood.”

“But
what
are they?” Tracy asked. “What is it they want?”

“Your soul,” Louisa replied.

Once again, that clammy sensation touched the people on the veranda.

“Well, I'll be damned!” Kyle said.

“Be careful that you're not,” his wife warned him.

The soft night suddenly turned cooler.

* * *

“You must come with us,” the voice boomed in Jackie's head. “It is time for you to learn more about us.”

This time the girl sat straight up in bed, wide awake. She knew the voice belonged to Randolph. She said nothing.

“That is good. You remember that I can read your thoughts. Do you remember that?”

Yes.

“Will you come?”

I'll get in trouble if I do.

“Yes,” the voice stated honestly. “You probably will. I cannot lie to you. This trip will be very dangerous, both for you and your brother. But it is a crucial one.”

Anna is talking to him?

“At this very moment.”

Where will we be going? That is, if we decide to go?

“To the Gibson house.”

No way!

“But you must.”

Why?

“To learn. Come on. I am waiting near the edge of the woods.”

The voice faded. Jackie sat in the middle of her bed, deep in thought. Then, reluctantly, she slipped from the warmth of the bed and dressed. Jeans, tennis shoes, long-sleeve shirt. She slipped quietly into the hall, closing the door behind her. In the hall, she glanced at her digital wristwatch. The luminous dial read 12:00.

She shallowed her breathing as she sensed someone, or something, in the hall with her. She almost fainted when she bumped into a warm body.

Johnny.

“Jesus!” he whispered hoarsely, his breathing ragged. “God, Jackie! You almost scared me half to death.”

“You? Why didn't you warn me you were out here waiting?”

“What did you want me to do? Blow a bugle? Are we really going through the woods to that . . . place?”

“I think we have to. But I'm sure open to sugges-ton.”

The boy said nothing.

“OK. Come on before we both chicken out.”

“I won't if you won't.”

As they slipped through the dark hall and into the kitchen, they paused, listening. Nothing. They quietly opened the door and eased out onto and then past the veranda. They were not aware of dark eyes watching them from the house.

Louisa looked at the form of her sleeping husband. She looked at the clock-radio on the nightstand. Midnight. The witching hour, the thought came to her. She hesitated for a second, then shook her husband awake.

“Whaissit?” he mumbled, still more asleep than awake.

“Jackie and Johnny just left the house. They ran into the woods behind the mansion.”

That brought the man wide awake. “Jesus! What time is it? Why in the hell would they do something like that?”

“It's midnight. I think they've been contacted by someone.”

Kyle jerked on his trousers and stuck his feet into loafers. Then the full impact of what his wife had just said struck home. He looked at her. “Louisa, there is no way they could have been contacted. There are no phones out here.”

“I think they have been contacted by the unseen ones in the forest.”

Kyle groaned. “Oh, come on, Louisa. Don't start with that stuff.”

She was used to that, so she ignored his comment. “Come on,” she jerked at his arm. “We have to tell Lucas and Tracy.”

“I'm not lookin' forward to that.”

“Nor I.”

* * *

“They've gone where?” Lucas asked.

Tracy was quietly cursing.

“I don't know where they've gone,” Louisa said. “Their true destination, I mean. But they both ran into the woods about two or three minutes ago. I couldn't sleep and was looking out the bedroom window.”

Lucas began cussing, not so quietly.

“We'll wait in the hall while you both get dressed,” Kyle suggested.

Every light on the floor blazing, the quartet gathered in the kitchen. No more than four minutes had passed since Lucas and Tracy had been alerted.

“Tell them what you told me,” Kyle asked his wife.

“I thought you didn't believe?” she challenged him for an answer, one way or the other.

“I believe! I believe! Come on, we're wasting time.”

She smiled, knowing she had won a victory. “I believe they were contacted by the little people. The unseen people who live in the forest.”

“Dear God!” Tracy said, her face paling. “Not the Woods' Children again.”

“What?”
Louisa's voice was very sharp.

Quickly, Lucas told them both about the kids' claims.

Louisa smiled as she grabbed onto Kyle's arm. He stood like a oak tree, a patient expression on his face. “You see!” she cried. “I told you they were real.” She turned to Lucas and Tracy. “You see, I saw them as a child. I can tell you all their names, what they look like, and how they are dressed. My parents ridiculed me, just like you did your children. But the Woods' Children are very real—very real.”

The lights of a car swept the estate grounds, the sounds of tires crunching on gravel, sliding to a halt. Kyle looked out the window.

“Burt Simmons,” he said. “In one hell of a hurry. I'll see what he wants. He must have checked with my HQ for my 10-20. You want me to tell him anything about the kids?”

“No,” Lucas said. “I don't trust him.”

“He is a wicked, depraved man,” Louisa added. “But there remains some good in him.” She would say no more.

All agreed with the first part, none with the latter.

Kyle was back in a moment. He appeared visibly shaken. His hands were trembling slightly and his face was pale.

“What's wrong?” Lucas asked.

Louisa looked into her husband's eyes. “It's about Ira Bowers, isn't it?”

“Yes.”

“What about my brother?”

“You know he was buried yesterday afternoon?”

“Yes. In the family plot outside Palma. I . . . elected not to attend. Hell, no point in lying about it. I wasn't informed. If I hadn't driven into town and asked who died, I wouldn't have known. It surprised me that he would be buried so quickly after a shooting. I expected some sort of prolonged investigation.”

“Yeah, it surprised the hell out of me, too,” Kyle said. “There is something really weird about it. But. . . ah, . . . that isn't why Burt hunted me down.”

“Give it to me, Kyle,” Lucas said.

“The body is gone.”

Lucas felt the blood rush from his face. The gruesome events of the past night returned to him in vivid, living color. “Somebody dug him up?”

“Ah . . . no, Lucas. That's . . . not exactly what. . . . Bad choice of words,” he muttered.

“Then, what?”

“From the pictures I just looked at, it seems the grave was . . . ah . . . dug from the inside out.”

“I'm scared shitless, Jackie,” Johnny said to his sister. “And these woods are
spooky.”

“Join the club, brother,” she replied, catching a branch that Johnny ungentlemanly let pop back, almost whapping her in the face. “Didn't Anna tell you she would be waiting in the woods like Randolph told me?”

“Yeah, she did. But where are they?” He didn't want to admit he was lost.

“I don't know.” She didn't want to admit she was just as lost as Johnny.

“Look to your right,” the voice drifted through the dark woods.

Both kids almost peed their pants. They glanced to the right and could see the dim but sparkling outline of . . . something. Looked like Randolph.

“Follow me,” the voice called. The sparkling shape began traveling through the thick timber.

“Is that Randolph?” Johnny asked.

“Sounds like him. Come on. We've come this far. Might as well go on. We sure can't get into any more trouble at home.”

“It isn't home I'm worried about,” her brother admitted.

“Yeah,” Jackie said.

The dark seemed to swallow them, draping them in a cloak of ink. The shapes of shrubs and bushes and small scrub trees now appeared something more than what they were. The branches seemed to grasp at the kids as they struggled through the ever-thickening timber. Creepers clutched at their ankles, like squirming snakes, eager to trip them, to trap them, to hold them forever in the darkness.

And the sparkling form stayed in front of the kids, too far to touch, just far enough so the kids could keep it in sight.

Jackie and Johnny followed, nearly out of breath and sweat-soaked. Followed not so much out of choice, but out of necessity. For they were both hopelessly lost. And going back would accomplish nothing. They were lost in the deep timber either way they went.

“Wait!” Jackie finally cried.

The dim form stopped.

“I have to rest,” Jackie said.

“We both have to rest,” Johnny said. “Just cool it for a minute.”

Laughter reached them. But the sparkling shape remained stationary.

* * *

“There is no point in us stumbling around in the timber in the dark,” Kyle said. “We'd be lost in ten minutes. These woods run for miles. And just a few miles from here, Lucas, it gets wild. Sometimes the military sends special troops to train in here.”

Tracy was crying softly. Louisa put her arms around the woman. “I think they have gone to the Gibson house. Why, I don't know. But I believe they have been misguided by someone . . . they think to be friendly.”

“Louisa,” Kyle said, “you stay here with Tracy in case the kids double back. Lucas and I will head for the Gibson house. Use my car. If need be, I can radio in for help.”

The kids had gotten their second wind and were pushing the sparkling shape. They had lost their initial fear and adventure now held them firm.

“There it is!” Jackie said, pointing, the first to spot the lights shining through the woods.

“Where's Randolph?” Johnny asked.

They looked around them. The sparkling shape was nowhere to be seen.

“Listen!” Jackie whispered.

A very faint chanting sound came through the timber, reaching the now-alert ears of the kids.

“What is that?” Johnny asked.

“It's in some foreign language,” she replied. “I think it's Latin. I think. Come on, let's get closer.”

As they cautiously approached the now-brighter lights, they could make out the flickering illumination from many torches, the wooden hafts jammed into the ground. The burning torches seemed to be competing with each other to reach the dark sky.

The chanting grew louder.

Both kids could now make out the shapes of men and women. Two men, two women. They seemed to be dressed in dark ankle-length robes, and they were dancing in a rough circle, going around and around, then into and back away from a pole in the center of the circle.

Neither child noticed several dark shapes slowly moving toward them, from the rear.

“It's those creeps that grabbed us,” Johnny said. “What the hell are they doing?”

Jackie looked at her brother. “When did you start cussing?”

“Long time ago,” he replied in his best adult tone.

“Yeah,” she whispered drily. “At least last month, I'm sure.” She looked intently at the dancing men and women. She suddenly grabbed ahold of her brother's arms. “Look what's on top of that pole they're dancing around.”

Johnny looked. His stomach did a slow, sick rollover. He swallowed back bile that threatened to explode from his throat.

Dead, bloody chickens dangled from strings at the top of the pole. Beneath the still-dripping chickens, a ring of human skulls encircled the pole. The blood had dripped down to stain the bare shining skulls and fill the empty eye sockets.

One of the women suddenly stopped her prancing and dancing and lifted her robe, exposing herself to the sightless skulls. She faced Jackie and Johnny.

“Don't look,” Jackie cautioned her brother.

“Hell with you,” he muttered, staring.

“You're too young, Johnny!”

“Stuff it, sister!”

Boys! she thought.

Then one of the men stopped dancing and chanting and lifted his robe.

Jackie stared.

The dark shapes moved closer to the kids.

* * *

“I'll never get this car down that road,” Kyle said, pulling over off the gravel-and-dirt road and parking by the dark opening that led to the Gibson house. “We'll have to walk it. Just pray that Louisa was right about the kids. You armed?”

“Yes,” Lucas replied tightly.

“Let me handle this, Lucas. Don't go off the deep end and start shooting. It's too late once you pull that trigger. And the kids might not be at the Gibson house.”

“I know.” Getting out of the car, Lucas took a deep breath and calmed himself. “I'll let you handle it.”

“Let's go.”

The men began walking down the dark tunnel created by the overhanging branches. Soon the overhanging gloom had swallowed them. Long before they reached the Gibson house, the sounds of the chanting reached them. Neither would venture an opinion as to its source or meaning.

* * *

“Lucas and Kyle will find them, Tracy,” Louisa attempted to calm the woman. “I am almost certain they went to the Gibson house.”

“And if you're wrong?”

The smaller woman smiled. “I seldom am.”

“I hate this house. I hate this entire county.”

The lights in the mansion suddenly went out, plunging the great house into deep darkness.

Tracy opened her mouth to scream, her nerves stretched to the breaking point. Louisa grabbed her arm.

“Don't!” she warned in a whisper. “I hear many people outside. Come on. Follow me and be very quiet.”

“But you don't know your way around this place.”

“I can find my way. I can sense things most people cannot.”

Louisa led the woman out of the kitchen and through the house as if she had lived there all her life. She skillfully avoided tables and chairs and led Tracy into the drawing room that faced the columned portico.

Leaning close, she whispered, “We must speak only in whispers. I sense great danger.”

“The kids running off,” Tracy returned the whisper. “Now this. It's all connected, isn't it?”

“Possibly. Probably. Now, if you value our lives, be silent.”

The women were quiet as the first lances of lights from flashlights began flashing and darting throughout the house.

Then the harsh voices began drifting to the frightened women.

“I want to hear that New York broad scream,” a man's voice said. Laughter followed that. “She is the one we must take.”

“They were in the kitchen. Where did they go?”

“They can't get away. We have people outside guarding. We have lots of time to pleasure ourselves when we find them. We'll save the young one for later.” Tracy stiffened in shock at this sexual reference to Jackie. “Start the search and do it slowly. Miss nothing.”

Tracy fought to suppress her fear. She pressed her back hard against the wall, then felt the wall begin to give under her weight. Louisa put her hand over Tracy's mouth to prevent her screaming and both women felt the wall give. They tumbled backward into darkness. The panel closed in front of them.

They were in total darkness.

“
Sshh!”
Louisa shushed Tracy before the woman had a chance to speak. Placing her lips close to Tracy's ear, she whispered, “This old mansion is rumored to be filled with secret passageways. Those men will never find us if we keep silent. Do you understand?”

Tracy nodded her head, then thought how silly that was in total darkness. “Yes,” she whispered.

The women waited.

* * *

“We have intruders!” a woman called, looking toward the dark timber.

The man and women with their flesh exposed dropped their robes and stared.

“There!” the spokeswoman said, pointing toward where Jackie and Johnny lay watching in the brush.

“Oh, God!” Johnny said.

“Will you stop breathing and slobbering down the back of my neck!” Jackie said.

“I'm not doing anything to you,” the brother replied indignantly. “You're so turned on looking at that naked man you're spitting on me.”

Both kids then realized they were lying side by side. No way either one could be breathing down the neck of the other. They looked at each other, then slowly turned around as the men and women in the torchlit circle began laughing.

The kids looked up into the muzzles and mean eyes of two big Dobermans. Their mouths were open, just inches from the kids' necks.

“Sneaky little spies!” the dark-haired woman said. “They must be punished.”

When Jackie and Johnny turned their heads away from the dogs, the men and women had surrounded them.

Behind them, the sounds of wild laughter sprang forth. The laughter was filled with madness. It seemed to be taunting the kids.

“That's not Randolph,” Jackie said. “Who have we been following?”

“Randolph?” a burly, dark-complexed man said.

“You wouldn't understand,” Jackie said. “Randolph is good. You people are . . . bad, I guess.”

All the black-robed adults did their best to hide smiles at that statement.

“We understand much more than you think,” the blonde woman said. Then she could no longer contain her humor and it sprang forth in a gentle laugh. The laughter changed her whole expression. Now she did not appear ominous-looking to the kids—only stupid-looking. She said, “I believe the children have made contact with he who is advised by wolves.”

Jackie jumped to her feet. The huge black Doberman snarled. She dropped back down to the ground.

“Steady, Thor,” a man said, his eyes never leaving Jackie. “Steady, Satan.” The dogs settled back and were silent. The man looked at the blonde woman. “What you suggest is impossible. We have attempted contact for almost a year with no results.”

“And we are adults attempting to contact children,” the woman argued. “Perhaps that is where we made our mistake.”

“Hey!” Jackie said. “Don't ignore me. How do you people know about Randolph and the others?”

“As persistent as you seem to be,” another man spoke, “it would be difficult to ignore either of you.”

The others laughed.

Jackie and Johnny got to their feet. One of the Dobermans leaned forward and licked Jackie's hand. She petted him and he whined softly.

“I thought you said these dogs were dangerous?” Jackie asked.

“Obviously he senses no danger in you,” the burly man with the slight accent said.

Then the dogs became restless.

“Someone is coming,” the dark haired woman said.

“Probably Dad and Mr. Trooper,” Johnny said. “Now we're
really
in trouble.”

“And well you both should be,” they were told. “You have interrupted a very important ceremony.”

Kyle and Lucas ran into the torchlit area and stopped, confusion evident in their eyes as they looked around at the macabre sight.

“What's going on here?” Kyle blurted.

“Great God!” Lucas said.

Both men had guns in their hands.

“There is no need for guns,” the man who had thus-far been silent spoke. “No one has been nor was going to be harmed. The ceremony we were performing is a legal one—we checked on that some months back. The skulls were all legally purchased and there is no law against humanely killing chickens.”

“Yeah,” Lucas said. “For frying, baking, or stewing.”

The man shrugged philosophically.

Lucas's eyes found the kids. “Both of you, get over here!”

The kids bolted to his side.

The Dobermans lay down on the cool ground and yawned.

“We can do this easy, or we can do this hard,” Kyle said. “You can all cooperate and give me your names now, or I can do it my way, which, I assure you, you won't like. Which ever way you folks want it, that's fine with me.”

“No, problem, Patrolman Cartier,” the blonde woman said. “We'll cooperate fully. We have absolutely nothing to hide. My name is Professor Karen Hart.”

“And my name if Professor David Siekmann,” the burly man with the accent said.

“I am Professor Nancy Morreale,” the dark-haired woman said.