THE HIDDEN — Chapter 24: THE GATHERING — T.D. BARTON & DEREK BARTON

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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR:   THE GATHERING

Ghostly moonlight filtered through the trees, spotlighting the strangest scene Nate had ever laid eyes on. The clearing was filled with the dark, hulking bodies of the Kophet-kur. Adults of both sexes were gathered together. Their shadows stood out in stark contrast to the dew-frosted grass of the clearing. Scattered amongst the adults were young monsters — carbon copies, but smaller in stature. The smallest was about the size of a terrier dog and they ranged up from there, in stages, until they blended in with their parents.

Each member of the tribe regardless of size or sex was turned and oriented to give their fullest attention to the radiant white disc that was the moon. It was fixed in the blackness of that September sky, and it hung there emitting a light that was at once brilliant and yet cold in its vibrancy.

Nate and Susie watched from the bushes surrounding the clearing, careful not to show themselves or make any move to give away their hiding place. The only actual sounds were natural enough — the wind brushing its way through the treetops and the occasional calls of night creatures. And yet Nat’s mind was near bursting with the hellish caterwauling of these hideous beasts. The howling had grown constantly louder as they approached this clearing, but Susie had insisted there was nothing to fear.

Nate was amazed at how calmly she was taking all this. The howling had reached a maddening pitch, made even more unsavory by the odd fact that it seemed to be coming from within his own skull. He found the feeling to be quite disgusting. It was bad enough to think of the foul creatures lurking about in the dark and howling their fool heads off. But it was ten times worse to feel them crawling about within your own psyche, communing with their dark gods and conducting their unnatural worship. He felt as though someone with greasy, filthy hands was handling his most private parts and leering nastily up at him. The howling did not belong inside himself and he strove vainly to drive it from his mind. He covered his ears and shook his head violently, but it remained, screaming and yammering incessantly until he felt he would go mad.

Susie’s small hand gripped his arm and HE heard her whisper close to his ear. “Don’t dwell on it,” she said simply. “Relax and let it roll on by. If you don’t think about it, it won’t bother you so much. Just let it slip to the back of your mind like the sound of the wind.”

She sounded old beyond her years, and Nate wondered again at her grace under pressure. Nevertheless, he did as she suggested, and he soon discovered she was right. He thought about other things, avoided concentrating on the unearthly howls, and almost immediately the pressure within his skull began to disperse. It was like turning an antenna to avoid an unwanted signal. The sound was still there, but if he didn’t think about it, he could handle it.

Nate was reminded of the times in his youth when he had experimented with certain mind-altering drugs. Occasional bouts of paranoia were to be expected when chemically tampering with one’s perceptions, and the best way to handle them was to distract the mind and relax the body — just the way he was doing now. But how could Susie know this? She was far too young to have dipped into the old magic mushrooms or swallowed a couple hits of micro-dot acid. He doubted if she had ever even smoked pot. If she’d grown up in the city as he had, yes. Today’s inner-city youth had their own demons to deal with. An eleven-year-old crack-head was not uncommon on the streets of Chicago. But Susie was the product of this quaint, rapidly vanishing, country lifestyle. He could see it written all over her face. Still, she had an uncanny knack of dealing with these creatures and Nate was glad for her help.

Having gotten himself under control again, he focused his attention on the Kophet-kur and the clearing which housed them. There were perhaps thirty or more of the creatures, standing or sitting in various poses and all with their noses pointing skyward in salute to their moon-god. Nate was overwhelmed to see such a huge mass of these beasts and he wondered what he hoped to accomplish against such odds. Anyone of these animals could tear him limb-from-limb, Even the little ones would be dangerous. He could see their long yellow fangs glowing cruelly in the moonlight. And here stood the entire pack in a savage ceremony unlike anything glimpsed by man since the dawn of time.

Susie pointed, and Nate squinted through the darkness to see what looked like the mouth of a cave, or burrow, boring its way into the side of a hill. It was a low opening, the mouth of which was choked with briars and weeds. A huge tree lay on its side, its roots sticking up in the air like the toes of a fallen giant. The dirt clogging the roots formed a great mound and sheltered the entrance even more. Had Susie not disclosed it to him, Nate would never have seen the cave; nor, he decided would anyone else. The Kophet-kur were greatly adept at remaining hidden — of that, Nate was painfully aware.

There was nothing in the clearing that would indicate, once they had gone, that the ferocious beasts had even been there. Unlike human tribes involved in pagan worship, the Kophet-kur presented no wooden idols or totems. They danced no exotic rituals and wore no feathered costumes or anything of that nature. There were only the moon and the night and the animals themselves, standing solemnly in reverence to their god. The forest was their leafy cathedral and the haunting wind was their choir.

As Nate silently beheld this awesome spectacle, Susie suddenly jumped to her feet and, before he could stop her, she plunged through the underbrush into the edge of the clearing. Totally flabbergasted, he remained transfixed as the girl walked boldly out into the midst of these ravenous beasts as though she were choosing a picnic site in the park. His feet felt like they were filled with lead, and all he could do was reach out, stiffly, with his free hand and hiss through clenched teeth: “Susie! Get back here!” He thought she must have gone crazy and his blood chilled to think of what they would do to her if she interrupted their ceremony. Sadly realizing he was throwing away any chance he had of rescuing his wife, he leaped after her, brandishing his homemade spear and preparing for the worst.

To his amazement, however, the creatures took no notice of them at all, but stood, silent and still, as they had been before. Not one of the huge, shaggy, beasts turned to look at them. They remained in their rigid stances, muzzles lifted to the sky and eyes clamped shut.

Susie preceded him as they walked amongst the Kophet-kur, completely unmolested, staring at their ugly faces. Erect and passively immobile in the center of the clearing stood Chirkah. Unmistakable, even in the pale shadows of night, he towered over those around him, and plenty of space had been left vacant for him to stand, regally tall and straight. The iridescent moonlight robbed him of all color, turning his dark mane of fur into a gray mass, and casting bleak shadows which pooled at his feet. Even his normally smoldering eyes were closed tightly as all concentration was reserved for communion with The Fathers.

His dark face was set in an open-mouthed rictus, deep-set wrinkles creasing his muzzle where his lips pulled back in a perpetual snarl. His fangs were exposed and gleaming and his tongue, light gray color in the moonlight, curled up at the end, spasmodically twitching. A thick soup of drool had slithered down the front of his chest from his open mouth, and it dripped in streamers from his chin. He looked like a type of totem, himself, as he stood on his hind legs with his arms extended in an empty bear hug, his talons stretching out at the end of his paws to claw at the air. Nate was reminded of the stuffed exhibits on display at the natural history museum, except that those exhibits were old, dusty and lifeless. This one was vivid and alive and horrifyingly real.

He and Susie stood in the middle of the clearing and gazed in wonder at the statues of the Kophet-kur, fixed and unmoving in their transcendent state, and they were amazed. Each of the creatures was frozen in one of a variety of stances, some standing erect as Chirkah, but most were on all fours, squatting upon their massive haunches.

“How did you know…” Nate asked haltingly.

“I don’t know… I just felt it. When I came out of the tunnel, on the other side, there were three of them like this. At first, I was scared and I thought they were going to eat me, but…well…sometimes I can hear what they’re thinking. I mean…I don’t actually HEAR it — it’s more like I feel it in my head, you know?

Nate nodded.

“During the full moon, they concentrate totally on the communion, and they won’t hurt us now”. She marveled at the figures surrounding them. “It’s like… freeze tag! Only its really spooky!”

It dawned on Nate that this was the reason they had abandoned their vigil beneath the tree. They had no choice. If they were to arrive back at the clearing in time for this ritual, they would have to leave him in the tree and hope that he would either remain there, out of fear or make a complete fool of himself with his peers when he told his story. His mind flashed an image of the World News Weekly at the local grocery store. Its bold black headlines screamed, “MONSTERS DISCOVERED IN INDIANA CORNFIELD!” He pictured himself, on television, sitting, uncomfortably, next to Whitley Strieber, and a voice in his mind blared, “Fruitcakes with way-out stories nobody believes… This week’s focus on ‘GERALDO’!”

The Kophet-kur were compelled to make this ritual stance whenever the moon was full and sending its most powerful messages. The line was open to their ancestral home, and they must make the most of the limited time. Nate recalled the taunting words of Chirkah as he left the clearing beneath the tree: “Either way, I have won and you have lost.” Well, the game was not over yet… not by far.

Nate raised his spear before Chirkah, preparing to ram it home, but Susie stopped him. “You mustn’t!” she cried, and this time there was a real alarm in her voice. “They are in a deep trance, but if one of them is harmed, they’ll all wake up. This is the way they protect themselves.”

He blinked, stupidly at her, and struggled to make himself comprehend. Here, at last, was Chirkah, vile object of his loathing and hatred, defenseless before him, and he was unable to do anything about it. Could it be he was to be robbed of such an opportunity for revenge? Was she certain? Perhaps he should go ahead and disembowel the bastard and to hell with the consequences. He gazed into Susie’s limpid eyes, staring up trustingly at him. Reluctantly, he lowered his weapon.

With a sigh, he said, “Our best bet, then, would be to try to find Zelda and get the hell out of here before they wake up. Is she down there?” He pointed at the mouth of the cave.

Susie nodded. “I think so.”

“I’ll go with you,” she said, and the firmness in her voice told Nate there was no use arguing.

The darkness in the cave was absolute, and Nate flicked on the flashlight. Casting the beam about a bit, he discovered a cave of average size, certainly too small to house all the creatures standing out there in the clearing. Susie clung to his side as they walked on back to the rear of the cave. It was unsettlingly quiet here, the oppressive darkness even blotting out the sound of the wind from outside. The cursed howling of the Kophet-kur, however, remained strong and loud as ever. With a determined effort, Nate thrust it from his mind.

Slowly, deliberately, he scanned the wall at the back of the cave, letting his flashlight beam crawl delicately over every rock and fissure. The floor slanted at an impossible angle and they were forced to lean backward to maintain their balance as they approached the back wall. Nate was aware that they were going deeper and deeper underground with each step.

Suddenly a shadow swept through the beam and they jerked back in alarm. Nate was relieved to see it was only bats. They had swooped down from a large, dark, shadowy area to his left. Turning the beam in that direction, he discovered an opening that served as the mouth of another cavern. Without a backward glance, he and Susie entered, ducking their heads at the threshold.

The cavern they entered was not much larger than the one they had just quit, but it served as a sort of anteroom to a much larger chamber. Walking down three broad terraced steps, they peered out into a huge cathedral-like space with an immense domed ceiling. Nate shined the beam out into the center of the room, but it grew weak and petered out before reaching the other side, so vast was this cavern.

Bats fluttered and scurried about in waves across the roof of the place, and a stream gurgled through the center of the floor. There was no light, but the flashlight beam picked up huge stalactites which dripped down from above, in some cases joining with stalagmites below to form giant columns of gnarled limestone. Except for the distant sound of running water, there was a hushed, eerie quality to the room that filled their hearts with dread.

“This is the main chamber,” Susie informed him. “It’s where they sleep during the day and where they have their meetings. The slave chambers are over this way.” She took his hand and led him across the room. Although he sent the flashlight beam out before them, he felt she would have been just as capable of finding her way in the dark.

They followed the course of the little brook which flowed along quite rapidly, for an underground stream. The sound of rushing water grew louder as they continued, and Nate gasped in astonishment as his flashlight beam fell upon a huge, terraced waterfall which tumbled in a torrent down the far wall. There were several small pools, lined with rimstone, which caught the water where it cascaded out of the darkness. This mineral has a tendency to grow upward and inward as it builds upon itself, thus damming each of the little pools and forming a ladder effect as the water over-ran its basin to form another at succeedingly lower levels. The result was a “fountain” of glowing minerals, white as alabaster, and sparkling water glistening in the light of his flashlight.

The two stopped and marveled at the beauty of this sculpture, and Nate thought what a tragedy it was that something of this magnificence should be trapped here in the darkness all these centuries, to be viewed only by the cruel, glowering eyes of the Kophet-kur. He was certain that these pernicious beasts were absolutely incapable of appreciating beauty. His thoughts along this line, however, were cut short as Susie tugged insistently at his sleeve. Together they continued past the waterfall and across the stream. Susie was leading him in an unerring, straight line.

The floor of the great chamber was littered with refuse. Bones, bits of skin, excrement and other unnamable remains were scattered everywhere. The odor was nearly overwhelming and Nate felt the sausage he’d so hungrily wolfed down earlier crowding the back of his throat. He covered his mouth and swallowed hard. Here and there were patches of bare earth that had been tramped down smooth and Nate surmised they must be where the filthy beasts made their beds. At last, they reached another tunnel on the far side of the room. It stretched off gloomily into the distance and Nate could hear the wind whistling ominously along its depths. He looked at Susie. “Are you sure you want to go in there?” he asked.

“You don’t think I want to stay out here by myself, do you?” came her reply, and Nate smiled, weakly. “We will have to be careful, though,” she whispered. “There are guards.”

Delicate little tubes of stone formed by deposits of calcite clung to the wall near the mouth of the tunnel, and as he spoke, Nate absently reached out to feel one of them. It crumbled instantly at his touch, into a fine gray powder. He brushed his hands briskly together to remove the dust.

“All right, but I think we’d better figure some way to leave a trail so that we don’t wind up lost — here, hold this.” He handed her the flashlight while he unraveled a strand of thread from his bulky sweater. Paying it out slowly, he wrapped it around the palm of his hand until he had a good-sized ball of string to work with. He handed this ball to Susie after securing one end around a small stalagmite, jabbing up from the floor of the cavern like a scraggly tooth.

“As we walk, let this string play out behind us. If you run out, let me know and I’ll unravel some more.” Susie nodded, in the dark, and together they stepped into the tunnel, Nate leading the way.

They hadn’t traveled far in the darkness when they began to hear soft, scurrying sounds, which grew silent whenever they stopped to listen. Nate wielded the flashlight beam defensively ahead of them, but nothing was there. As they proceeded down the tunnel they both could hear voices, whispering, quietly, in the darkness around them. The voices sighed and reverberated, maddeningly, so that not a single word could be understood. The motive behind the voices, however, was obviously, undeniable evil. Nate had the uncomfortable feeling they were being watched — worse yet, stalked — by something lurking in the shadows along the walls. He began to feel as though he was in a dream — a nightmare, really — and he wished with all his heart he could wake up.

Nate felt the nails rake his back even before the blood-curdling scream registered upon his consciousness. He was shoved to the floor and found himself struggling to throw off the weight of some demonic creature which clung to his back, biting and scratching viciously. In the pitch blackness around him, a hodge-podge of sounds filled his ears. The shrieks of the demons were joined by Susie’s shrill voice screaming for help while other voices shouted and cursed.

“It’s a MAN!” one of them screamed. ”KILL IT! KILL IT!” hissed another.

“Get up, Nate get up!” cried Susie, her voice full of tears.

Nate heaved mightily and managed to flip over on to his back. The flashlight had fallen to the floor, but he could see the flashes of movement and glimpses of strange creatures scurrying about at the edge of the light. Suddenly, cold, dead fingers tightened about his throat and he could feel sharp claws digging into his flesh there. The grip was amazingly strong, and Nate felt his windpipe collapse as he struggled, vainly, to break free. Bright flashes of light began to swim across his vision as he poised precariously on the edge of consciousness. Something snarled in the darkness above him and he lunged up with all his might to head-butt it. With a cry of pain and rage that sent spittle and blood spraying in his face, the creature released its hold and he made a scramble for the flashlight. When he picked it up, however, they were gone. He heard footsteps padding down the corridor, but he was too late to illuminate the culprits.

Great gasps of air whistled across his bruised windpipe, dragging claws behind them. He coughed and choked spasmodically, trying to recover. Dimly he became aware of Susie, clinging to his leg and trembling. He stooped to cradle her and at the same time cast about for his spear. When he could breath again, he asked, “What WAS that?” And he strove to bring his quavering voice under control.

“Slaves,” panted Susie. “They’re crazy.”

Nate nodded in affirmation. “I’ll be more careful from here on out. You okay?” And then, as an afterthought, “Still got the string?”

Susie held up the ball of yarn and smiled.

From somewhere in the darkest depths of the tunnel ahead they heard an evil-sounding chuckle, and Nate’s hand clenched tightly around the shaft of his spear.

At length, they continued on, with Nate swinging the flashlight back and forth before them. Susie clung to his side with one hand while unraveling the yarn with the other.

The corridor was tall enough for Nate to stand erect, and it was several feet wide. Along the walls were several niches and grottoes where danger could be hiding. Each time they passed one of these spaces, Nate would send the beam in ahead of them and raise his weapon defensively while gathering Susie protectively in behind him. They continued on unchallenged, however, and, eventually, Susie whispered, “We’re getting close. The slave chambers should be right ahead.”

As she spoke, they rounded a turn in the corridor and a flickering light came into view. Torches lined either side of the tunnel and a group of bedraggled women stood in the doorway to a large chamber. Some of these women held torches and Nate noticed that many of them were obviously pregnant. Their clothing was of the rattiest in nature and they looked like they hadn’t bathed in years. He remembered the woman in the clearing and the look of quiet desperation in her eyes just before the creatures had mutilated her.

He stopped and held up his free hand, palm forward, in what he hoped would be a sign of peace. “I’ve come to help you,” he said, and his voice echoed down the hollow corridor. “I — We mean you no harm, I am searching for my wife. Her name is Zel–“

A chorus of shrieks drowned him out as the entire mob sprang forward, and bore down upon them. Nate took a couple of steps back, nearly stumbling over Susie; but there was nowhere to run so he braced his feet and stood his ground. The first slave to reach him bared her teeth, snarling like a crazed animal. Her nails were long and her gnarled fingers splayed wide as she launched herself head-long through the air. Without thinking, Nate pointed the spear directly at her stomach and her forward motion did the rest. She impaled herself on the weapon, the shaft passing completely through her abdomen and jutting out the other side. With a surprised grunt, she fell to the floor, taking Nate’s spear with her. Nate struggled to free it from her now limp body and looked up just in time to see another of the wenches charging in. This one carried a torch and she brandished it menacingly at his face. He ducked to one side, feeling the heat of the flame against his cheek and he smelled the odor of singed hair. As she swung again, he was able to turn the shaft of the spear in a manner that deflected the blow. At that moment the spear came free of the first woman’s body and he spun, swinging the shaft like a club, and cracked the torch bearer squarely across the bridge of the nose. She went down in a heap, tangling the legs of another woman who sprawled in the dirt beside her.

Nate didn’t have much time to catch his breath as one of the women landed on his back and began clawing at his face and neck. Her dirt-encrusted face rasped against the side of his head and he felt her teeth clamp down on his ear. He screamed and reached around to flail at her as yet another bore down on him from the front. His right foot came up and there was a sickening crunch as his boot slammed into her distended abdomen. As she sank to her knees, Nate’s right hand was able to finally gain a purchase on the hair of the demon clawing at his back. He bent and pulled with all his might, sending her sailing through the air and into the feet of several of the others coming his way.

Taking advantage of the moment, Nate looked around to check on Susie. There she stood, close on his heels, brave as ever. She clutched the torch one of the women had dropped and offered it wordlessly to Nate. Wielding this firebrand in one hand and the spear in the other, he whirled back around to face their attackers. Panic combined with fury to turn him into a force to be reckoned with. He charged forward to meet the women, a blood-curdling howl issuing from his bloody lips. As one, the women shrank back, many of them retreating into the chamber behind them.

When Nate saw this, he curbed his rush and halted before the few remaining slave women. Silence fell over the battlefield and the soft susurration of the torches could be heard amidst the ragged panting of the participants. Only a handful of women remained, and, as Nate waved the torch in their faces, he saw their features twisted by hatred and rage. He was thankful for his weapons, for he could see, from the women’s looks that, were it not for his spear, they would happily fall upon him and tear him to bits. At last, one of them stepped forward. Her nose was bloodied and swollen, and he realized she must be the one he had head-butted in the darkness down the tunnel. She was smaller than the rest, but she wore an air of leadership as she spoke for the others.

“You have come for Zelda,” she said in a voice that was oddly flat and emotionless. “She is not here. Go back to your world before we — or the Kophet-kur — kill you.”

Nate stood looking at her stupidly. “What do you mean she’s not here? Is she dead? What have you done to her?” The thought of Zelda becoming one of these God-forsaken creatures made his heart hammer, painfully, in his chest.

Lynette returned his gaze silently for a moment before she spoke. “She is in Chirkah’s private chambers,” she said flatly, and behind him, Nate heard Susie gasp.

“I have to go to her,” Nate insisted. “If you won’t tell me how to get there, then at least don’t try to stop me. I don’t want to kill you… I don’t want to kill any of you.”

“You may go in peace.” Lynette’s words had the sound of a final judgment. She tilted her head to peer around behind him at Susie. “Leave the little girl. She will be of no help to you where you intend to go, and we have a use for her in The Cause.” The gleam in her eyes was that of one possessed. It was echoed by the hungry glare haunting the faces of her followers. He thought that the demons of hell might greet newly arrived souls with just such a rapacious stare.

Nate reached around and pulled Susie in close behind him as he began backing away. “The girl goes with me,” he stated, firmly. Lynette made no answer but turned as if to go back into the slave chambers.

Suddenly, she whirled and hurled herself toward him. Her shrill, unearthly screech split the air and reverberated along the passageway as she raised her hand above her head and advanced. She brandished a crude knife, chipped out of a sharp piece of stone, and she aimed it directly at Nate’s heart. Nate was caught off-guard at first but recovered in time to slash out with his own, knife-tipped spear, slicing Lynette’s wrist deeply, and then burying it to the hilt in her throat. Blood gushed in a dark stream as she toppled to the ground at his feet. She rolled over on her back and clutched her wounded throat, kicking spasmodically for a few seconds. When, at last, she quieted down, her eyes rolled up to meet Nate’s and, in the light of the torches, he could see a strange serenity enter them like a veil. Then they locked straight ahead and the light went out of them altogether.

Nate snapped his attention back to the others, but this last death had pretty much taken the wind out of their sails. They backed into the chamber and stood to peer out at him curiously, as though they could not comprehend just what manner of a beast he might be.

Nate knelt beside Susie, who had buried her face in her hands and gathered her into his arms for an embrace. When her sobbing had quieted, he searched her face and asked her gently, “Can you lead me to where they are holding Zelda?”

She shook her head, slowly from side to side, and her fingers came up to nestle in her mouth. “I’ve never been there,” she moaned around them. “No one is allowed even near Chirkah’s private chambers. I would’ve been killed for sure.”

“It’s okay,” he told her, and he set his jaw determinedly. “We’ll just have to look around until we find them, I guess. Anyway, I think these slave women will leave us alone for now, and that’s something, isn’t it.”

She smiled, shyly and squeezed his hand.

“We’ve come this far together, I guess we don’t want to give up yet, do we? Of course not. Do you still have the string?”

A startled look spread over Susie’s face and she began to cast about in the dimly lit corridor for the ball of yarn. She must have dropped it during the scuffle. At last, she spied the mass of string and bent to pick it up. But, just as she reached for it, it went skittering across the floor.

Both Susie and Nate looked up to see an enormous, extremely ugly woman standing in the corridor behind them. She was as tall as Nate, and her body was so broad, in the dim light, it appeared to fill the tunnel. In one huge hand, she held the string they had been paying out behind them, and the wadded ball dangled from it, swaying back and forth.

“You looking for this, maybe?” Alice asked, and her face was set in a menacing scowl.