Dead Village Page 20

  Tully pulled at the rider’s feet, but Stazivore kicked out, and Tully was sent sprawling into the dirt, some twenty feet away, his mouth and nose bleeding badly.

  Francis ran to him and held his bloodied face, but Tully pushed her away, as he ran to retrieve the spear. Dan though, had beaten him to it.

  The large dying creature wasn’t finished yet though. It had one last chance for vengeance, if it could only save Mr Cliff, then Stazivore would wreak havoc.

  It reached out, groping with its long arm, as it held its torn throat with the other. A thick green blood like substance gushed from between its fingers, and the small band could only watch helpless as it picked up Mr Cliff and flung him toward the deep fast flowing river. If Mr Cliff sank into these raging currents, he would be lost to them forever, and he would live at the bottom of the river.

  Stazivore would then do its bidding and kill them all.

  Suddenly Father O’Neill shouted loudly.

  “Go Scraps, go,” he commanded.

  The little dog charged and leapt through the air, and just before Mr Cliff hit the water, Scraps had him in his mouth. The little dog splashed into the river and went under.

  Seconds that felt like minutes passed, and Francis put her hand to her mouth.

  Dan glanced at the priest, who in turn looked at Tully, and for one heart stopping moment they believed Scraps had gone, drowned in the fast flowing river. The large horse was turning for another charge, as the horseman of death held the scythe menacingly.

  The little dog re-surfaced though, and paddled ferociously to the bank, Mr Cliff still held firmly in its mouth.

  From behind them the deafening neighing sounded, as Stazivore readied himself for another charge.

  The horse kicked out with its front legs, as it reared up.

  Scraps dropped Mr Cliff on the ground, as Dan lifted the spear.

  The thunder of hooves shook the ground as the horseman powered toward them.

  Dan stood above Mr Cliff, and stared down.

  “Don’t let him hurt me Francis,” Mr Cliff pleaded. “I love you. Francis, Think of how I was always there for you Francis,” it pleaded. “Remember how I helped you, saved you.”

  Francis looked away and held her ears. She knew Mr Cliff had saved her in the past, and she felt a great guilt fall onto her shoulders. In fact, she felt like a traitor. Okay, as a child she did love Mr Cliff, but things had changed. Mr Cliff had turned into a hateful monster that would stop at nothing to kill her and the man she loved.

  “Please Franc…”

  “No!” Francis screamed. “You’re evil!”

  Dan, spear held tightly, looked at Donald’s ravaged body, and glanced across at his dead friend Thomas, who was floating face down about fifty yards up the river.

  “Francis, pleeessse…”

  “Goodbye Chucky,” Dan said sarcastically.

  Suddenly Mr Cliff stopped pleading, and as his face twisted, he mouthed his promise.

  “You may destroy me you fucker, but now your wife has returned to the dead. Your son and daughter are no more. They are all gone. Ha, ha, ha,” Mr Cliff laughed. “No more!”

  The horseman was almost upon them as Dan sank the spear into Mr Cliffs head.

  The little bears head gave a terrible scream as its eyes fizzled, then turned grey. Mr Cliff was no more.

  Francis sobbed loudly as the giant horseman came thundering toward them, sixty yards and closing.

  “We’re too bloody late,” Tully choked.

  “No, look,” Father O’Neill pointed.

  The horseman straightened his prose, and they watched as he drew in the scythe and rode high, passed them, away, and up through the mist, into the sky. Stazivore was gone.

  Francis quickly kicked the dead Mr Cliff into the river and watched the little head float away with the current.

  The other hooded creature remained still and silent, but they knew it was watching their every move.

  “Give me the fucking spear Dan,” Tully demanded, as he stared intently at the creature.

  “The spear won’t work for you Tully,” Dan stated.

  Suddenly a silence came over the forest, and Tully scanned around.

  A few minutes passed and Dan was convinced it was all over.

  “I don’t think it means us any harm,” Dan added

  “Have you gone mad Dan? Thomas just killed its fucking daddy, and now it’s going to kill us. In two minutes it’ll tear us to shreds. Now give me the spear Dan. If you won’t use it, I will,” Tully raged. The creature pointed at them, then turned, and slowly disappeared into the mist.

  “It’s over, and it’s all down to that little guy,” Dan said, as he pointed at Scraps.

  Father O’Neill had just turned to pick up the little dog when Scraps started growling again, at the dark mist which seemed if anything, to have become thicker.

  “What’s wrong Scraps?”

  “I don’t like this Tully,” Francis moaned.

  A white figure was slowly coming through the mist, a small white figure.

  “Oh God no,” Father O’Neill gasped, as he moved to confront it.

  * * * * *

  The little girl cleared the mist and immediately hissed at Father O’Neill, as he removed a large crucifix from his pocket.

  “Alice,” he softly said. “Why are you here? Are you looking for your father?”

  Francis moved toward the little sobbing girl and held her arms out to her.

  “No! Stay back Franc…”

  The little girl lunged at Francis and scraped at her arms. Francis fell back, shocked and in great pain. Then the girl sprang onto the priest and started to gouge at his eyes. Tully kicked out at her, viciously, but she gripped his foot and dug in hard, tearing his ankle. Tully although in great pain, picked up a large stone, and threw it, but it sailed harmlessly passed her head.

  Father O’Neill had fought with the little girl before, but her strength had grown somehow, he believed.

  She stood over the priest, her arms raised, her fingers bent like claws, her eyes black.

  The priest looked across to Tully and Francis, who were on the ground, staring at him, but could do nothing to help in their exhausted and injured condition. Donald’s body lay behind them, and everything seemed to run in slow motion now.

  “Tim,” Tully was shouting, but the priest could hear nothing. He could see Scraps, some ten feet away, barking fiercely at the little dead girl, but he couldn’t hear the dog either. I’m in some form of shock, the young priest thought.

  Dan was approaching him quickly, spear in hand, shouting. The girl turned to confront him, her face twisted and terrifying. She opened her mouth, unnaturally wide, and screamed a scream the men had never heard the like of before. The small party held their ears as the piercing scream echoed across the forest.

  Dan threw the spear, but she was too quick, and it drove passed her shoulder, into the mist.

  I’m dead, Tim thought, as she ignored Dan and turned back toward him, the screaming now stopped.

  “I only ever tried to help you,” the priest tried to say. “Why are you doing this to me Alice?”

  Alice though, wasn’t for listening, and she tore into him again, much more violent than ever before.

  She gripped his chest, and dug her nails in. The priest punched out at her, but this only seemed to madden her more. Now he was spent, and he tried to whisper his last prayer.

  “Dear Lord, accept me into thy kingdom,” he whispered.

  Suddenly from the mist, the other hooded creature sprang out and struck the little girl, sending her tumbling some thirty feet across the ground. She quickly jumped up and charged the creature.

  “It’s Charles,” Francis whispered, as she held her bleeding arm. “It’s Charles, come to help us.”

  Tully was trying to stand now, pulling at Francis.

  Charles and the little girl fought ferociously as they rolled across the ground, and Dan noticed that although she was only a quarter of the siz
e of the hooded creature, the girl was fighting with a ferocity he had never witnessed before.

  The creature slammed the girl down onto its knee, and she folded in two, back broken. Then he threw her to the ground, and she remained still.

  As he turned to face the priest, Tim’s hearing quickly returned, and he suddenly felt normal again.

  “Thank you Charles,” he whispered through his pain. “Thank you so muc…”

  But behind the creature, he could see the little girl twist herself in a grotesque fashion. She was straightening her body, bones cracking and popping, and before he could think properly, she was quickly rising to her feet again.

  Father O’Neill pointed.

  “Look out Charles,” he warned.

  Too late. The girl was even more vicious than before. She hissed loudly as she ripped the creature’s hood off. She clawed ferociously at Charles face, and as he wailed, he gripped her by the throat.

  “We need to get out of here,” Dan shouted to the priest, as the frightening pair wrestled once more across the ground.

  “The girl is immortal,” Dan yelled.

  He pulled at Father O’Neill’s arm, and moved across to Francis and Tully.

  “Take my arm Tully, and let’s get the hell out of here, back to the church.”

  Francis and Dan held Tully between them, and with Father O’Neill leading the way, they began to trundle away.

  The priest was injured and in great pain, but he concealed it and walked firmly toward the mist that was still encircling them, praying as he went.

  They all knew that if Charles didn’t win this fight then the little dead girl would kill them all, starting with the priest.

  We must make it to the church, Father O’Neill thought. It’s our only hope. Scraps had stopped barking now and he walked beside them, tail wagging, as though this was some enjoyable game.

  Father O’Neill glanced behind him. The creature that was once Charles was struggling now, gasping, and at once he could see why.

  The little girl had torn a huge chunk from the creatures face, and it was hurting.

  Alice stood over the creature and laughed. Now she would finish the creature off, then she would do what she came for.

  “It’s me she wants Dan, you people move on, quickly,” Father O’Neill ordered.

  Dan looked at the injured Tully, and as Tully looked back, the look said a thousand words.

  “No, we will not leave you Tim,” Tully stated.

  “Yes, if we go down, we go down together,” Dan added.

  The small band turned to face the little dead girl, and Dan hoped he could find the spear, when she attacked the priest again.

  Alice seemed to know what he was thinking though, and she walked into the mist. When she came back out she had the spear held tightly in her grip, and she held it high like it was a trophy.

  They watched the creature that was once Charles, sit up on the ground, but they knew it could do no more.

  “Charles tried to help us,” Father O’Neill whispered.

  “He almost made it,” Tully replied.

  “We’re not dead yet!” Dan bravely spat.

  Everything felt serene for a moment, almost trance like as Tully kissed Francis on the cheek and squeezed her tightly.

  Suddenly the mist began to draw back, and a lone figure stood about thirty feet away, between two trees. It was a man in a strange looking dark uniform, an old sergeant’s uniform.

  “Alice,” he called out.

  “It’s Sergeant Boyd,” the priest choked. “It’s her father.”

  Alice dropped the spear and spun around.

  “Come to me Alice,” he said.

  Alice ran quickly. Much too quickly, Tully felt, and for an instance he thought she was going to attack him.

  But when she leapt into her father’s arms, everyone could see that her journey had ended.

  “Father, father,” Alice sobbed, as he spun her around, and kissed her cheek.

  Then, hand in hand, they walked away.

  The sergeant paused to look over his shoulder, and the priest was sure it was a wave he gave to them. Then they disappeared.

  Tully laughed loudly. “We made it, we fucking made it,” he almost screamed, the pain in his bloodied leg forgotten as he hugged Francis rather roughly.

  When they looked across, Charles had also disappeared.

  “Thank you God,” Dan said

  “Praise to the Lord,” Father O’Neill added as he held Scraps tightly in his arms.

  “It’s over,” Tully said.

  “Yeah, but how do we explain this? Donald and Thomas are dead,” Dan reminded them.

  “Yes, and don’t forget the rest of them,” Francis added.

  As they walked away, Tully retrieved the spear and carried it by his side.

  Dan thought of the sacrifice Thomas and Donald had made for them and he started sobbing uncontrollably.

  He had brought the big Indian with him, and the death of Thomas lay squarely on his shoulders. He had greatly admired Donald as well, since their last dual with the monsters, and now he too, had gone.

  Francis placed her arm on Dan’s shoulder, but she knew that the few words she could say would be meaningless.

  Francis was also taking it badly herself. She had known Donald a long time.

  * * * * *

  Many miles away, the phone rang out, and after three rings, the answer machine kicked in and broke the silence of the empty house.

  ‘Hello dad,’ Donald’s son said. ‘You won’t answer my calls, so I’m coming over there, okay? I mean it dad, I’m flying over in three days time. I love you dad, and I’m sorry for the hurt I caused you. Things were said during the heat of the minute, by both sides.

  Anyway, I know you were only trying to do your best, so you know, take it easy until I get over there. I’ll be flying into Dublin on Tuesday around five. I can’t wait to see you dad.’

  Then the answer machine kicked off with a ding, and everywhere around the house remained silent.

  High on the wall, the picture frame with the gold braiding stood out from the rest of the other framed photos.

  The three smiling faces of Donald, Heather, and son Ian, smiled out across the deserted room, as a ray of sunlight sneaked through the half opened blind and lit it up.

  CHAPTER 21

  It would be three days of intense questioning before Dan was allowed to leave Ireland, with the knowledge he would have to return for the hearing. But Dan had more worries to think about right now.

  He had only taken his other business mobile phone with him to Ireland, so that Lynn couldn’t reach him. He felt lousy and deceitful about doing this to her, but she wouldn’t understand, and he knew he couldn’t tell her the story of how God had somehow resurrected her.

  He had listened to Mr Cliff tell him how his family were no more, and this eat at his insides.

  He had lifted his phone and keyed in his home number, five times in the last few days, but he had been afraid to hit the call button. What if some strange old woman or man was to answer, or the line didn’t exist? What if Mr Cliff was on the level, and they were really gone?

  No, he would rather drive to his home and check it out from some distance away. Check if the house was still the same colour. Check out if Lynn’s car was still in the drive.

  He had told her he was doing a report on the mafia. This would cover why he couldn’t be contacted, but not the reason why he couldn’t contact her. And now she would be worried sick, as would be his children. He made his mind up that when he returned home he was going to take them on the holiday of a lifetime. Then he was going to cut his hours at the paper, and spend a lot more time with them. He would be a better husband and father.

  The airport entrance loomed large as they stopped at the drop-off point, keenly watched by a large airport policeman.

  “Don’t worry about Thomas,” Father O’Neill said. “His body will be flown back over next week or so. Everything is going to be taken care
off, and I will personally see to it that everything goes to plan.”

  “Thomas had no one,” Dan answered.

  “He has his people Dan, and he has God,” Father O’Neill replied. Dan turned to say goodbye as he pulled his small suitcase from the trunk of Father O’Neill’s tiny car. Francis hugged him tightly and pecked him on the cheek, as Tully in turn, shook his hand vigorously, and he was sure the knot he was feeling in his throat was plain for all to see. Then Father O’Neill Held his forearms tightly.

  “Goodbye my friend, and please be assured that all will be fine with you. I’ve asked The Lord to do you a favour,” he laughed.

  After he had said his goodbye’s Dan walked back to the car and opened the door. Scraps jumped into his arms. “Goodbye little fella,” he said as Scraps licked at his face. “I wish I could give you a medal. You’re the real hero Scraps.”

  Scraps barked as if in acknowledgement, as Dan ushered him back into the seat, before walking tearfully away. He glanced back as he passed through the large automatic doors.

  * * * * *

  The flight back to the States seemed longer to Dan than any other flight he had ever taken before, and the young couple seated beside him had been so engrossed in one another that he believed they didn’t even notice that he was there, beside them.

  He was unsure how he was going to explain to Lynn why he didn’t call. He knew she would be frantic with worry.

  Maybe she had contacted his boss Reynolds, in fact, he was sure this was what she would have done. He could just visualise Reynolds blowing his top while his dumfounded wife looked on.

  ‘You’re Husband, on assignment to Vegas, don’t make me laugh lady.

  Why the no good son of a bitch phoned in sick last week. When you see him tell him from me that his damn ass is fired.’

  Maybe Lynn had even phoned the cops to report him missing.

  A sweat broke out on his brow.

  He could also visualise some flatfoot telling her the story.

  ‘First we contacted the hospitals for any accident victim’s ma’am. Then we checked for any John Doe’s arriving. It was only when we visited the airports though, that we found what we were looking for. Why it seems that your husband, accompanied by a Native American Indian by the name of Thomas Lahapie, left for Ireland on an Air Lingus flight last week. Seems the son-of-a-bitch lied to you Mrs Winters.’