Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Despite the Darkness #7

“What was that?” “I don’t know!” “Stu?! What was that?”
They were all talking at once, so he let them blather while he tried in vain to follow the beast in the inky darkness.

“What was that?” It was Stu, his voice cutting off the panicked chattering of his peers. Stu took ahold of his arm and forced him to look back at him. “What was that,” he asked again.
“You don’t know Stu.” The voice was a powerful baritone and it came from somewhere in the woods where the thing had retreated back to. Stu’s eyes went wide with fear. “Haven’t you known that this day would come? It’s your retribution… all of your retributions.” A man stepped out from the trees. He wore a black duster and a wide brimmed hat.

“Brady?” It was a whisper, carried from one mouth to the other.
“Some respect… Father is the appropriate title.” The man took several steps forward. Stu raised his rifle and the rest followed suit. “You think those will be able to stop me?”

“You’re no Father! You’re a murderer and awaiting your day in Walla Walla.”
“Tisk. Tisk. You had to know that wasn’t how this was going to work out. You don’t get to do what you did and not have your sins find you out… you and your brother.” The man’s smile was confident, while his eyes burned with malice.

Stu looked ready to pull the trigger, but Steve put his hand on the barrel and forced it down. “What are you doing?”
“What are you doing,” he asked again.

“Justice. Now get out of my way.”
The golden light flashed again as the man passed his hand along an invisible wall. Looking at it now he could see what looked like golden blocks.

“Impressive.” He pressed against it, the wall not yielding to his full weight. “Very impressive. Although it will profit you very little. There is always a chink in the armor and this can’t last forever. I have time, Stu.” The man turned his back and started back towards the woods. “Besides, she’s already inside.”
Stu forced his rifle barrel up and took aim at the retreating figure. Everyone’s attention was drawn to a flurry of lights some distance to the left and when they looked back the man Brady was gone.

“Stu… Stu... what are we going to do?”
Stu’s jaw worked and his eyes seemed to weighing two great calculations, finally he turned to Steve. “You’re going to tell me how you knew about…” he searched for the words.

“The wall,” he offered weakly.
“The wall.”

“Because I’m the one who did it… well I’m the one who walked it.”
“You’re not making a lot of sense, friend. Grab him.” Strong hands took ahold of him and started him off towards the Dambuster.

“What did he mean by she’s already inside,” Stu asked taking his arm from the other man and shaking him a bit.
“I don’t know.”

“That’s not going to cut it.” Stu followed his gaze back towards the haus where Jan and Isaiah were standing clutching each other in the door frame. “Get those two over here,” Stu barked.
“They don’t have anything to do with this.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Things weren’t going crazy until you showed up.”
Jan and Isaiah were trundled over, joining the crowd now in front of the Dambuster. The men’s nerves were frayed as gun barrels swung in the direction of every sound real or imagined. Stu grab ahold of his arm and started to drag him away from the group.

“Keep them there. We’re going to have a little chat.” Stu released his arm roughly once they were out of eaves dropping distance. “I know who you are.”

“That’s it?”
“I don’t know what you want to hear.”

“I want to hear how a baby killer shows up and the next thing the devil himself is walking in the woods. I want to hear how you knew. I want to hear what YOU are going to do about it.” Stu’s rifle was used as a pointer swinging from the woods beyond back to his chest.
“I’ve got nothing to do with this… they have nothing to do with this,” he pointed to his wife and son hidden in the middle of scared, armed men. “I don’t know who that man is, but you do.”

“Pastor Brady, he and his wife lived up here during the summers. He’d preach at all the little towns and camps around here. One day he snapped and killed a bunch’a folks. He should be at Walla Walla hanging from his neck!”
“Sounds to me like this has more to do with you than me.”

“What in the world is going on out here?!” They all turned up to look at the cook who had just stepped out of the Dambuster to eye them all with bewilderment.
“Put a pot of coffee on Heath, we’re pulling an all-nighter,” Stu ordered.

“K, K, you gonna tell me why?”
“Just put on the pot Heath!”

“Hey where’s Lola,” one of the men asked, he held a double barreled 12-guage in shaking hands. “He said she was already inside right? What if its Lola?”
“That is the dumbest thing…”

“Lola?” Heath asked with a puzzled look.
“Yeah where is she?”

“She’s washing dishes in back,” Heath offered.
“Get her out here!”

“K, K…” Heath started back.
There was the creaking of wood and then a loud crash. At the same time all the lights in the Dambuster flashed, sparked, and then went out. “Hey?!”

Heath seemed to fall through the door way, his feet dangling outside on the porch. “Heath?”
Heath started to scream and thrash.

The man with the double barreled shotgun fired both barrels into the doorway and was quickly followed by his compatriots. Rounds ate away at the door frame; the sound of further damage inside only spurred the shooters on further. Heath had stopped moving.

“Stop shooting! Stop Shooting!” Stu ran amongst the men and swatted their guns down. “Stop shooting you idiots!”
“Its Lola!”

Or is it? DUN! DUN! DUN!