THE HIDDEN (Finale) — CHAPTER 27: THE PATH AGAIN & Epilogue — T.D. BARTON & DEREK BARTON
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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: THE PATH AGAIN
Nate grasped Susie firmly by the shoulders and shook her — hard. The little girl’s face was pasty white in color, and her hair was damp with sweat. Her eyes had rolled back in their sockets as she concentrated upon her lunar image. It was a valiant effort, and Nate marveled at the way she had so unselfishly taken the task upon herself. She had quite literally saved their lives. His heart warmed as he considered what a brave little child she was.
But now it was time for her to relax her mind and allow the Kophet-kur their freedom. While stumbling through the forest, Nate had hit upon a plan to eradicate these horrid creatures, and to put it into effect he must draw them into a trap. So he shook Susie and brought her out of her self-induced trance.
The girl looked up at him and blinked rapidly as she tried to orient herself. Her mind was fuzzy and her mouth felt stuffed with cotton. “Are we safe?” she asked. “Where’s Zelda?”
“I’m right here, honey.” Zelda stepped near and put her arms lovingly around the child. At that moment, Susie wished this couple would adopt her and take her away from her natural parents. She marveled at the fact that these two strangers had, in one day’s time, shown more love and affection than her parents had given her in eleven years. A rueful smile tugged at her lips as she thought that grown-ups should be given a test before they were allowed to have children. Certainly, her life would have been entirely different had Nate and Zelda been her father and mother. Doug would never have dared to touch her…
The thought of Doug made her realize, now that they were on the verge of escaping, she would soon be going back to her old life. She was struck by the realization that the idea brought her no joy. Her ordeal among the Kophet-kur had been horrible, but the prospect of being turned back over to her sadistic brother and distant parents seemed nearly as bad. Desperation overwhelmed her soul, and for the first time since her capture, Susie began to wish she were dead.
“Susie, honey, take this.” Nate was handing her a stalk of corn. For a second, she failed to respond. It seemed strange for Nate to be standing here in the middle of a field at night, handing her cornstalk. What did it all mean? Mechanically, she reached out and opened her hand, mutely accepting the offering. She was still partially groggy from her intense act of mental telepathy, and the world of reality skated just beyond her reach. Then, from the depths of the forest came a harsh growl, and fear brought her all the way back.
They stood at the end of the path, where it opened out upon the lovely little clearing where Nate and Zelda had camped. Nate held the torch in one hand, and Zelda had a cornstalk, like the one he had given Susie. They stood side by side, looking like a parody of that old painting she’d seen in her school-books — the one with the old woman and the old man with the pitchfork. “American something-or-other” it was called. Behind them, the path plunged into the depths of the cornfield, and Susie was reminded of the tunnels winding through the lair of the Kophet-kur.
Nate was extremely excited, casting nervous glances back toward the dark forest, but his hand remained steady as he brought the torch up to set fire to Zelda’s stalk. The corn was dry s tinder, and in seconds, it leaped into flame. Nate then turned and lit Susie’s stalk, his big hand closing firmly around hers to hold it steady and safely away from her face.
Nate folded Zelda into his arms, her white gown fluttering in tatters before the wind. He kissed her fiercely, and then said, “Let’s do it.” Susie needed no instruction as she watched the two adults start down the path, setting fire to opposite sides as they went. Susie followed, pausing occasionally to dip her own fire-brand, and before long the entire length of the path behind them flamed brilliantly. Sparks popped and danced noisily from the dry field and the fire rapidly found a home amidst the corn. Nate straightened up and gazed back the way they had come, and Susie could see the fire dancing brightly in his eyes. Soon the heat from the blaze began to bake her face, and she hurried along, escaping into the cool night air.
The first of the Kophet-kur burst onto the path amidst a shower of sparks, and his momentum carried him several yards into the inferno before he realized it was too hot and attempted to retreat. By that time, however, he was deeply immersed in the flames. His coat began to singe and hiss as the fire leaped high above his head from both sides of the path. With a howl of rage, he spun in a dazed circle, twisting and snarling savagely. His howling rapidly took on a note of panic as the fire overtook him and his skin began to blister. Small sparks showered him and flames began licking up along the sides of his body and standing like a glowing crown atop his head. With a final scream that sounded, to Nate, all too human, he crashed blindly into the corn on the right side of the path and disappeared totally in the conflagration.
“That’s one,” Nate said quietly as the trio halted and stared back down the path into the fire. With a grim line creasing his lips, he turned and resumed his task. Susie and Zelda exchanged a horrified glance and then joined him. The trio moved rapidly down the path, and behind them, everything blazed. The night sky was set aglow with the light from the flaming corn, and the storm’s fury whipped the blaze into a dazzling holocaust.
Chirkah raged back and forth at the mouth of the pathway while a wall of flames blazed before him, preventing his pursuit. He howled and snarled, ripping up huge clods of soil with his paws and tossing them into the night to vent his frustration. The red flames danced in his evil eyes, merging with the inner glow created by his fury. His desire for revenge against the irritating man that had dared steal the woman from his very chambers was combined with a thirst for the blood of the little girl.
He realized how she had fooled him, using his own methods against him, and he longed to bite her head off and suck the blood from her body, leaving a dried and empty husk. In all the years he’d been dealing with humans and their sniveling, pusillanimous ways, he had never been bested. And to think it had come at the hands of a juvenile — a female juvenile at that! The idea drove him quite clearly to the brink of madness. His hot blood boiled in his veins with a heat to match that of the blazing corn, and his anger swelled up and spilled over in a froth of spittle which lathered his wounded face.
The rest of the Kophet-kur stood back, watching him warily and striving to keep a low profile, lest he vent his rage upon one of them. Never before had they witnessed the awesome power of their leader, completely unbridled and spilling out in total animalistic abandon. It was a spectacle which struck terror even in their savage hearts.
Suddenly, Chirkah whirled upon them and instructed them to split up and enter the corn on either side of the path, beyond the reach of the flames. His intentions were to outdistance their quarry by sprinting through the corn, across the grain, so to speak, and then to come out ahead of them on the path. The humans would be unable to escape, having cut off their own retreat by burning their bridges behind them. Chirkah wasted no time explaining this plan to his henchmen, but plunged headlong into the corn himself, assuming they would catch on. The chase was on again, and the beasts howled with excitement, the bloodlust lighting its own fire within them.
Ahead, on the burning path, Nate, Zelda and Susie stopped to listen to the clamoring of the creatures’ voices as they raced to overtake them in the corn. The sounds seemed to rapidly approach and then fan out on either side, surrounding them in the heart of the night. Each mournful howl poured ice-water through their veins and dread threatened to overwhelm their souls.
Chirkah, however, had failed to take into consideration the effect of the wind, driving the flames across the field like a molten flash-flood of destruction. Within seconds of entering the tangled stalks, each party was experiencing trouble. The smoke and super-heated air served to disorient the creatures, and they became separated from each other, wandering helplessly in circles. Many of the beasts were seized by panic and ran madly into the fire. Others blundered into situations where the towering flames trapped them in pockets from which there was no escape. Sparks rained down upon them stinging their skin and smarting their eyes and nostrils.
The trio began to hear screams of agony coming from the depths of the field, and, for the first time, hope was spawned in their hearts. Nate beamed at Zelda and Susie, and they smiled broadly in return.
The field had now become a raging inferno, and its tongues of fire and sparks leaped into the black night air to form a fireworks display far outstripping the one their tiny county fair had put on previously that summer. The storm raged through the night, and the fire roared so loudly it came close to drowning out the shrieks of the Kophet-kur as, one-by-one, they met their fiery ends.
At last, as the three stood with their hands upraised against the stinging heat, Chirkah crashed his way through the wall of death that lined the pathway. He stood before them and raised up into the fighting stance of the Kophet-kur. Not much recognizable was left of him, however. Chirkah was losing the last great battle of his life. His skin had all been charred from his body, and his massive paws were now merely two enormous clubs, tipped with blunt stubs that used to be claws. His ears were gone, leaving a gaping hole on either side of his head from which they could see tiny flames escaping.
Slowly, stiffly, like an enormous tree struggling to uproot itself and flee the ravages of a forest fire, the beast took one agonizing step toward them. A ripple of flames tore across the path at his feet and ran up his body like some flammable liquid, and nested at the top of his head. His once-terrible jaws swung open and a blue flame emerged as the mighty Chirkah burst into flames before their eyes. Finally, with a high-pitched hissing noise, his body toppled and sprawled in a heap in the center of the path.
As Chirkah died, a many-fingered bolt of lightning rippled across the sky, illuminating the entire countryside for a second, and the light was immediately followed by an enormous clap of thunder. As if on cue, the screams of the monsters began to die out, and Nate pulled Zelda close to his side to cover her face with kisses. Shyly, Susie drew near, and the couple gathered her in as well. “It’s over,” Nate croaked, his voice made husky by a combination of emotion and the thick smoke that belched out of the burning field. “It’s over,” was all he could think to say, but it sure sounded good. He repeated it again and again, as the three leaned upon each other in relief.
“What in the name of hell do you think you’re doing?” The voice rang out so sudden and so near that all three of them flinched violently. They whirled to face the sound and came face to face with Sam Burchill, standing in the middle of the path with his hands balled upon his hips and glaring angrily at them. Relief at seeing Sam’s familiar face washed over Nate and he began to laugh hysterically. His laughter was infectious, and Zelda found herself joining in. it felt marvelous to laugh, and she wished she would never stop. In fact, she thought about going right on through life chuckling and guffawing, pausing only long enough to snicker. This thought in itself served to increase the humor of the situation in her tortured mind and she laughed all the harder. Nate was holding his sides and cackling, tears slipping down his cheeks. He looked over at Zelda and howled, jubilation coursing through him like a river.
Sam, however, was not in the least bit amused. With a scowl, he strode over to Nate, snatched the flaming torch from his hand and brought his fist up hard against the point of the younger man’s chin. Nate’s teeth clacked together and fell flat on his back to look up awkwardly into the farmer’s face.
“You’re burnin’ my damn field, you crazy fool!” Sam shouted over the roar of the wind and the flames. “Have you gone completely out of your mind?” His voice broke a little under the strain.
Nate held out his hand, defensively, striving to calm the man down, and Zelda spoke up. “You don’t understand!” she shouted above the din. “We were defending ourselves! There were… monsters…” She stopped, trying to think of a way to explain without completely convincing this man that she was insane.
As she searched for words, Susie stepped forward. She had a wild look in her eyes and she stared at the big man as though she were looking at something extremely disgusting. Her face was a mask of loathing and contempt, and the storm whipped her hair around, making her look like a child possessed. She walked over and stood facing him, and the dancing light from the burning corn bathed both of them in a fiery glow.
“He understands,” said Susie, and her voice, though strangely low somehow carried above the noise. “He understands just fine.” Without another word, she closed her eyes and squeezed them tight. A look of serious concentration spread across her face, and she began to tremble violently. From where he lay on the ground, Nate could see the moon, slowly materializing in the stormy sky above them. It was hard to determine, amidst the blazing corn, but he had no doubt that this moon cast no light and was the product of Susie’s peculiar mental powers. Confused, he pushed himself up from the ground and walked over to join Zelda. The flames were growing closer now to where they were gathered and soon they would have to move along or risk being engulfed. Still, they stood their ground as they watched a remarkable transformation begin to take place in Mr. Burchill.
An agitated expression spread rapidly over his face and his eyes rolled back in his head. His jaw became slack and his face twitched as he bent deeply at the waist, and vomited. He turned his back momentarily, flashing what Zelda always called a “workman’s smile” where his shirt rode up and his pants drooped low on his hips, exposing half the crack of his ass. Zelda´s eyes were involuntarily drawn to this and she thought she caught a glimpse of the hair there growing longer and thickening darkly, before he turned back toward them. When they again saw his face, it had changed drastically. Sam’s eyes had gone a deep blood red, and his nose had broadened and darkened into something animal-like in appearance. Hair was blooming profusely upon every square inch of his face and his hands clutched compulsively at the air before him.
A low growl, expressing a wrenching inner agony, escaped his snarling lips and drool hung in streamers from his mouth and nose. He shook his head savagely, as though trying to deny what was happening to him, but the transformation continued. Slowly, ominously, he began to straighten up, and Nate saw long, black claws curving from the ends of his fingers. The most appalling aspect of this permutation was not the flashing claws, glistening teeth or shaggy coat of hair that suddenly appeared, however, but, the animalistic stance that overcame him. One moment they were looking at Sam Burchill, an admittedly furious man in the grip of rage, but, nonetheless, still human in every aspect. The next moment, there stood before them a snarling, frothing beast as horrible as anything they had encountered in their nightmarish dealings with the Kopeht-kur.
Another wave of lightning rippled across the sky, washing out the red glare of the fire for a moment, and when the resulting boom of thunder slammed through the summer night, it jolted Nate, bringing him out of his gaping trance. He suddenly realized that Susie was standing awfully close to this nightmarish creature, and he began to fear for her safety. She had exposed Sam Burchill for what he was, and now she placed herself in peril by maintaining this mental link with the werewolf. Nate’s muscles jerked stiffly as he moved to pull the girl back to safety, but his actions were just a fraction of a second too late. Zelda screamed in horror as the beast raised both of its shaggy paws and brought them down on Susie’s shoulders. Nate could see the fabric puckering where the claws of the monster passed through Susie’s shirt and into her delicate skin.
Susie’s eyes snapped open and her mouth went wide in a grimace of pain. With a squeal, she threw her hands out before her and drove her stiffened arms into the belly of the werewolf. The beast was caught off-balance and toppled clumsily backward, dragging the little girl with him. It snarled savagely and sunk its jaws into the soft flesh of Susie’s throat, ripping her esophagus out in one swift, bloody mass. At the same moment, the pair were engulfed in flames, the heat from which stopped Nate´s advance. He was left to scream helplessly into the conflagration, as the fire, spurred on by the howling gale advanced rapidly along the path. In seconds, the werewolf and his victim were consumed, their bodies erupting into pillars of fiery flesh. Neither of them even had time to scream they simply melded into the fire and were gone.
With a shriek, Zelda rushed forward, and Nate was lucky to stop her before she threw herself hysterically into the flames. His arms entwined about her and he struggled to draw her away from the scorching heat.
“She’s gone, honey, she’s gone!” he screamed above the roar of the raging inferno.
“NO! SUSIE… NO!” Zelda wailed. With an effort, Nate began to drag her away, and before long the searing heat was replaced by the cool evening air, rushing before the storm. Zelda sobbed uncontrollably, and she would not be comforted. Together, they staggered down the path toward the edge of the field, where Nate had begun this horrifying journey into insanity just two days earlier.
When they reached their back yard, the couple stumbled and collapsed. As they lay gasping in exhaustion, the sky at last opened up and rain came gushing down in torrents, cooling the fever on their blistered brows, and sending loud hissing sounds from the smoldering corn. The fire, however, raged on through the night, and when the first gray light of dawn found Nate and Zelda still lying on the lawn, huddled together and staring dazedly out across the field, it had blackened nearly all of the surrounding acreage, completely obliterating the path from sight.
EPILOGUE:
Zelda looked out the window of their high-rise condominium. It was a gray day, and the waves, cresting the surface of Lake Michigan were running to shore and breaking over the sea wall along Lake Shore Drive. Late November in Chicago was always depressing, and always cold and damp. Gulls were circling above the water, diving and turning like children’s kites before the wind. In her mind, she could hear their high keening cries, but the thick glass of the windows effectively sealed out all sounds from without.
She was sipping coffee and thinking back — just letting her mind drift lightly over the surface of her memories. These days she dare not dwell on what had happened to them in Indiana. The pain that accompanied those memories was too intense — the wounds too fresh to be touched. Sometimes, when her mind poked too deeply into those dark corners, she felt her soul would well up and spill over like old blood, black and clotting inside her, making a mess that could never be cleaned up.
The first thing they had done after their escape from the Kophet-kur was to sell their farm. Nate had wanted to go back to the cave and make sure none of the beasts had survived. She had walked in on him one day as he was bent over his desk, making a list of supplies he would need to launch an expedition to eradicate them. But, she had eventually been able to talk him out of it. She couldn’t bear the thought of him risking his life on such a mission. Since their ordeal, she had become fragile and weak, her overwrought nerves keeping her constantly on edge, and she knew that if she lost Nate now, she would never survive. Her heart just couldn’t take that kind of grief on top of all she’d been through. When she had finally convinced Nate of this, he had reluctantly agreed to abandon his campaign against the monsters — at least temporarily.
So they sold the farm and moved back to the city. Things were different now. After all, they still had their money, and they would be free to travel all they wanted until the baby was born. At first, Nate said they should have waited longer after the experience to conceive. He was worried about the way her grief over Susie’s death would affect her pregnancy. But, it seemed things were progressing normally. In fact, the baby appeared to be growing at an unusually rapid rate, and the doctor said the heartbeat was one of the strongest he’d ever heard. Nate was becoming the epitome of expectant fathers, overdoing his pampering of Zelda, and bragging about how big and strong his boy was going to be. He spent all his time discussing plans for their life together when the baby came. He was a different man altogether these days, his excitement about having a family showing in everything he did.
Recently, however, the baby had been keeping her awake at night, whispering disturbing things only she could hear. At first, she had tried to deny it, passing the voice off as unusually realistic nightmares; but, as her pregnancy progressed, the voice had become more and more insistent. She dared not say anything to Nate about it — he seemed so happy she just couldn’t bring herself to shatter him that way – just as she hadn’t been able to tell him about what had happened in that field the night she was captured. At first, she hadn’t even been able to admit it to herself, and she had denied it, as she had denied the truth to little Susie when they first met in that dark hole in the ground. The beast had raped her while she was unconscious — that was the truth. Of all the things in her life, all the mysteries of nature and the universe, this one thing was totally undeniably true. It hung upon her conscience like a golden maxim of law, unalterable and solid as marble. It would hang over her head for the rest of her life, and nothing could ever modify the fact. What was once done could never be undone.
A solitary tear wound its way down her face to splash, unnoticed into her coffee. It was the first to appear in some time. She had cried herself back to sleep many times since the voice first woke her in the night, and she had pretty much cried herself out. As the days dragged along from fall into winter, she gradually became accustomed to the idea and hardened her heart in preparation for the trials to come.
As she gazed out the window, she wondered: Would she be strong, like her friend Alice, and resist the urge to give in to the hypnotic chantings of the tiny voice from within, or would she, one day, while Nate was off on business, slip away into the heart of the city, seeking the subways and the lower basements where lived the big-city cousins of the Kophet-kur?
The demon seed she carried had already made her aware of their presence. They hid in the dark recesses of the city and hunted by night. They were larger, and not as fleet of foot as the Hoosier variety, but then they needn’t be — the game here in Chicago was much more abundant and easier to catch.
THE END
