By morning, all nerves were stretched to the limit and hardly helped when Xiang gathered them for her good-byes. “God willing as we move south the gate will catch up to you before the demons do. They are two days behind, but they move faster than we do. My people rested some when the rain came, but we have five days to go.” She shook her head. She all but confessed that they would be caught.
“We could slow them down a little,” Captain Decker suggested.
“No!” Xiang shouted. “That is the one thing you must not do. Killing them will just set the demons free to infest others, maybe you. They cannot possess you without your permission, but the lies and temptations can be very persuasive.”
“But if we can’t kill them…” Captain Decker did not know what to say. He had to think of options.
“A sleeping gas?” Lieutenant Harper suggested.
“Demons don’t sleep,” Xiang said. “That might just make them act like zombies. Come to think of it, killing them might not stop them either.”
“Great!” Lincoln frowned. “So what do we do?”
“Avoid them,” Lockhart said. “Go out of our way if necessary and wait until they pass.” Boston reached for Lockhart’s hand, and he gave it to her. Touch was something they all needed.
“Yes, avoid them,” Mingus agreed, and he put his hand on his son’s shoulder. Roland looked toward the rising sun. It looked pale and wan, though the sky hardly had a discernible cloud since the rain cleared off. Everyone had been hoping for a bright, sunny day. It would have lifted all their spirits, but it was not to be.
Unlike the day before, everyone talked while they walked. Something about hearing a voice, even their own voices, kept them from collapsing in dread of the demons. They spoke about memories and tried to relate the good times. They tried to laugh, but by lunch, even the best of times felt strangely ominous and became harder to recall while the wicked and sinful moments of life bombarded them with pain and regrets.
Mingus, Roland, and to a smaller extent Alexis felt the oncoming evil as a palpable fear. Mingus did collapse a couple of times, but Lincoln and Lockhart were right there to lift him and get him walking again. “It can’t be much further,” he kept saying. They kept walking. Lincoln did his best to let Alexis lean on him. Roland did his best to keep breathing and keep his feet moving.
Boston squeezed herself between Lockhart and Roland and held on to one or the other at times for the comfort of their touch. Roland smiled at first when she took his arm, but by afternoon, his expression turned to pity and sorrow. Lockhart’s expression remained stoic throughout, but after lunch, there came a moment when he reached out for her hand.
Katie Harper felt the sweat on her brow. She felt a chill in the air, like an early mountain spring, but the sweat could not be helped. She felt like she was burning, perhaps with a fever, or perhaps, she thought she was getting too close to the lake of fire that waited for the demons in the deepest pit of Hell. She checked and kept checking to be sure Captain Decker’s rifle had the safety on. He did not seem to mind. He did not seem to notice. His eyes simply darted back and forth between the trees and bushes, like he expected some terror to jump out at them any minute.
“It can’t be much further,” Mingus droned and shook his senses to keep to his feet.
“Shouldn’t we be looking to sidestep soon?” Boston asked. When Lockhart looked at her with incomprehension on his face, she explained. “To get off to the side and hide until they pass us by.” It took a minute for her words to penetrate.
“Doctor Procter?” Lockhart spoke to the man out front.
“This way,” the Doctor said in a voice that sounded too sprightly, like a man becoming excited. Lockhart had been watching the man since the beginning and especially since their visit with the Ophir. He came suddenly awake and sharp at the sound of that voice.
“This way,” he said, and turned the group ninety degrees to the Doctor’s prescription. Doctor Procter clearly wanted to object, but as the group turned aside, a thick fog rolled in, instantly, or as Alexis later surmised, it suddenly appeared in their midst. No one could see more than a foot ahead, and as they were all in the process of turning aside, some turned too far and some not far enough. It did not take many steps for them to separate.
“Hello?” “Where are you?” “Come toward my voice.” They all spoke, but the fog echoed the words and threw them back at the speaker, which made orientation and direction impossible. Instead of finding and getting closer to each other, they walked further apart. Only Lincoln and Alexis held on to each other, and Boston, whose sweaty hand was not about to let go of Lockhart. Then everyone stopped at once. They heard a voice. It sounded raspy, cold, and chilling in a way none of them had ever heard before or hoped to hear again. It sounded like the voice of death. It sounded like the voice of damnation.
“They are here.”
Boston pulled herself into Lockhart’s arms feeling sure they were going to die. She looked up into his eyes as he held her close, and the strangest thought crossed her mind. She did not want to die without knowing, so she kissed him, full and firm on the lips, and he kissed her back. When they separated, they looked each other in the eyes, momentarily oblivious to their impending doom. They shook their heads at the same time and the same word escaped their lips. “No,” and they almost smiled.
The fog began to lift, and Boston saw two things at once. She saw Roland right beside them, still. She was not sure what all he saw, but she felt sure he saw something. She felt overwhelmed with the need to tell him she was sorry and that she didn’t mean it. But she said nothing as the faces became clear not too many yards away. Those faces looked twisted and distorted. Some hardly looked human. She turned her own face and buried it in Lockhart’s chest. She tried to get away from the sight, but she closed her eyes too late. Those images got burned into her retinas and her brain. Alexis screamed. Katie Harper also screamed, but it was words.
“Decker, no! We can’t kill them. That will just set them free.”
Doctor Procter jumped forward, straight toward the faces. He turned and walked backwards in the direction of the demonized people as a smile spread across his own face. Everyone saw the tears form in his eyes as he spoke gleefully. “Kill them. Kill them all and have your supper.” He pointed at his companions, tripped over a root, and fell straight to his back. He began to struggle, but he could not get up. What is more, the demonized people appeared to be unmoving. They looked frozen in place, and the travelers could only stare at them in return.
Doctor Procter screamed this time. They heard the horse before they saw it. It appeared indeed, like a medieval-looking knight from the High Middle Ages, covered head to toe in dazzling armor. The long lance looked deadly, but they saw something of grace, perhaps chivalry in the knight’s demeanor. The knight said nothing. He simply walked his well-trained steed until he stood beside the Doctor. He lowered his lance and touched Doctor Procter gently on the chest where the heart rested. A brilliant white light spread slowly all the way around the Doctor until he became bathed in it.
Now, the Doctor truly screamed and writhed, or something writhed, twisted, and tried to get free. The thing, a pall of darkness, looked devoid of all light, not simply dark or black. It looked like the enemy of light but proved no match for the lance. The darkness slowly separated from the doctor and began to squirm like a wounded snake. It tried to lash out again and again, but the light from the lance contained it. At last, the darkness began to dissipate. Outmatched, it had nowhere to go. It became like smoke from an extinguished fire. It turned pale gray and vanished at last, like that smoke in a strong gust of wind.
Still without a word spoken, the Knight of the Lance turned his horse around and step by step he became insubstantial, until he disappeared, not behind a tree, but simply in the air. The travelers all stepped up to the Doctor’s side. They were heedless of the others for the moment. Doctor Procter smiled and glowed with residual light.
He began with one word. “Free.” Then he pulled the amulet from beneath his shirt. “Boston. You must take this. You understand it better than the others, and I trust you will guide everyone safely home.” He took it from around his neck and held it out. Boston accepted it, but her eyes were too full of tears to see it properly. “Alexis. I am glad you are safe. I still remember you scampering around the workplace, and Roland, you were worse.”
“Eh?” Roland glanced at his sister before he looked down at the man.
“Yes. Always breaking things, isn’t that right, Mingus?” Mingus nodded, but he could not answer. “Anyway, I think Mister Lincoln is a fine man so Mingus, leave them alone. And Mister Lockhart, I am sorry I never really got to know you properly.” He paused to look around at his surroundings and gave the impression in his eyes that this was the first he was seeing of it. “I am sorrier that all those years of study will now be missed, eh Mingus? I would dearly love to actually see and experience the lives of the Traveler.” He began to have trouble breathing and Alexis and Katie Harper both began to reach for him, but in a flash of light that made everyone blink and throw their hands toward their eyes, he vanished utterly from the world.
“God rest his soul,” Lockhart breathed. The elves did not object since after all, Doctor Procter had been half-human.
“We better move before these others come around,” Captain Decker said. He nudged Lockhart. Lockhart looked at Boston and it took her a second to remember and check the amulet. She pointed, and they walked around the mass of men and a few women who were still frozen in place. The time gate turned out to be barely a hundred yards away. Boston slipped the amulet around her neck as they hurried through. They heard the demons behind them begin to stir.
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MONDAY
Peace and Prosperity as long as the wolf does not get in the way. Until Monday, Happy Reading.
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Storyteller Tales & Thoughts 