Children of Midian
By Jay Eckert
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2012 Jay Eckert
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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Chapter 1 – The Shack
Elliot looked around at the gathering darkness of the woods. The trees surrounding him and his dog, Zeke, filtered the setting sun’s rays. He shivered. His hoodie, wrapped around his waist, and the grey t-shirt beneath it did not insulate him from the early evening chill. He untied the sweatshirt and slipped it over his head. The ground was less spongy here than at the edge of the woods. Long-dead trees lay scattered among the live ones and the faint smell of rotting earth filled his nostrils.
He needed to blow off some steam and did not want anyone bothering him just yet. Apart from his younger sister, Maggie, he doubted anyone would look for him here.
Suspended from a branch high above him, a dirty, green basketball sneaker hung from its laces. It couldn’t have been fun traipsing through the woods on one shoe. The woods were like that—full of strange things, but peaceful, in a noisy cricket-and-bug sort of way.
He rubbed the yellow lab’s neck, trying to calm himself while he fumed over his parents’ attitude, and their refusal to listen. Time to move to another army base. Again. Like he or Maggie had a choice. How many times was it now? He'd lost count.
His father had all the answers, of course. Find yourself some new friends. You'd done it before. Elliot toed at a large mushroom until it popped from the earth with a satisfying squelch of air.
Zeke pawed at the dislodged vegetable.
Naturally, only Maggie had noticed his near perfect ineptitude at making friends. This knowledge gave voice to his frustration and he stamped his foot, grinding the mushroom into a fine paste. “God, I hate it here.”
Zeke glanced up at Elliot with watering eyes.
Elliot squatted beside the lab and stretched his fingers through the smooth fur. “You still like me, right?”
The dog sneezed, loud and wet, spraying Elliot full on his glasses.
"Gross!" He ripped his glasses from his face and wiped them on his sweatshirt. As he slid them back on, Zeke began whining.
Elliot stood, holding tight to the leash. He glanced at his watch. They had at least another half hour before darkness fell. He decided to roam around some more, before heading home. "We may get eaten by a bear," he told the dog, "but I’m not ready for mom and dad to draw and quarter me just yet.”
Only thirty minutes prior, he’d been sitting at the tidy kitchen table, fighting a headache and shaky mood while trying to read an anime comic book. He’d served detention for his altercation in defense of fellow eighth grader, Ross McFadden. Using chess club as an excuse for his late arrival home, he’d kept the truth from his parents, at first anyway.
Now he was wandering in the creepy woods behind his neighbor’s backyard again. He managed a few steps, but Zeke’s neck only stretched forward. He remained rooted to the spot. “Oh, c’mon dude.” He craned his head around, and out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a shack through the trees. “What’s this, now?” He tugged the leash again, but the dog wouldn’t move. “Be that way, then.” He dropped the lead.
He should have been scared. Most kids would have been. They would have known better than to do what he was about to do. He'd seen that movie, too. The difference was that while others were yelling at the babysitter to get the heck out of the house, he wanted her to investigate. He wanted to understand. In this way, he knew he was different from most other kids. That instinct to flee wasn't in him.
The seed of intrigue planted in his head, he pushed aside low hanging branches and made his way toward the small building. After stepping over the line of fallen trees, he found himself in a sunlit clearing. He took a few moments to examine the brow clapboard shack. A decrepit chimney protruded from the roof of the drab, windowless structure. It was strange that he hadn’t noticed this rotting cabin in all his prior travels through these woods.
He was in an exploring mood, and the thought sent his mind back home. His father had explored the world during his various deployments, while leaving his mom, sister and he to fend for themselves. So when his dad came home tonight with news, Elliot’s nerves tingled hot. During dinner, even Maggie seemed on edge, her brown eyes large and glistening.
The military had restationed his father to Fort Derrick just last year, leaving Elliot and Maggie the difficult task of findings friends in a new town once more. Gregarious by nature, not a weekend went by without his sister fully occupied with her numerous sixth grade friends. For Elliot, however, Jefferson was no different from any other military town they’d settled in, full of jocks and their toadies, and the kids they picked on, like Ross McFadden.
That the blond-headed slab known as Jesse Balcom could walk and breathe at the same time was some kind of cruel joke of nature. His personal toadie, wiry Craig Dinkman, otherwise known as Dink, was surely a weasel or perhaps a hyena reincarnated. These two brain surgeons had pinned Ross up against a sheltered outside wall, while waiting for the school doors to open that morning. Elliot couldn't understand why none of the half dozen kids watching did or said anything. Well, maybe he could, but it made him angry.
Ross was something of an oddball who kept to himself, which Elliot supposed gave them something in common. The only thing Elliot knew about him was that the kid’s older brother had disappeared a couple of years ago, and hadn’t been seen since.
As far as Elliot was concerned, their solitary natures were all they shared, because while Ross cowered before Jesse and Dink, sweat pouring down his ruddy cheeks, Elliot did something about it. More with words than with action, he’d attracted the bullies’ attention long enough for Ross to make a run for it.
With their prey gone, Dink grabbed hold of Elliot so big Jesse could get in his shot. Elliot slipped from Dink’s grasp, leaving the moron sprawled on the ground staring at the only piece of Elliot he still held: an inside-out sweatshirt. As Jesse moved in for the kill, the enormous gym teacher, Mr. Shefsky appeared. Puffy faced, bald, and a fan of anyone with athletic prowess, he gave only Elliot detention for fighting. None of the other witnesses said a thing. Typical.
As stupid as its residents were, Jefferson was the demon from hell he knew, and he wasn’t up for a new set of imps. As it turned out, however, they weren’t moving after all. Not yet, anyway. His father was going on recruiting duty, which Elliot found funny since his father was a man who did not handle teens well. Even so, this was far better than seeing his dad deployed or the family relocated to some far off place.
The news went downhill from there when his father thumbed through the day’s mail, opening a letter from Grey Rock Middle School. Apparently, Elliot had a poor attitude, missed homework assignments, mouthed off, and didn’t work well with other students. The comments were unfair, though probably warranted. Dinner blew up into a shouting match, in the middle of which Elliot leashed up the dog and bolted from the house.
Deep in the woods now, he surveyed the well-worn path leading to the shack’s front stairs. A strange sensation lured him forward against his better judgment, and he found himself climbing up three splintery steps to a porch. He examined the solitary grey door. A handle in the shape of a four-legged animal stood out. Its body looked like a dog’s, but it had a misshapen head. He reached for it, but a tinkling sound behind him caught his attention.
Zeke joined him on the porch, the leash dragging behind. The dog sat beside him and whined, his left paw reaching up.
“This is crazy.” He knew these were hollow words, because his curiosity pulled him back to the door. An abandoned cabin in the woods was too captivating to resist. Elliot took the dog’s paw in one hand and shook it, while scratching his head with the other. “It’s okay, Zeke. It’s okay.”
Gazing back at the door, he reached for the handle, but paused, wrinkling his nose. There was a subtle odor of decay. “Probably a bunch of dead mice under the porch. Hmm. Better knock.” The resulting sound reverberated like a tennis ball bouncing in a vast, empty auditorium. He waited half a minute and knocked again, this time calling, “Hello?”
He heard no answer, and peered over his shoulder to check for signs of company. Facing the entry again, he steeled himself and reached for the handle. The carved metal chilled his fumbling hand. After a few feeble attempts at turning it, he jerked it down and the door creaked open a few inches, revealing a dark interior.
Zeke whined and backed away.
“Whoa, whoa. Hang on there, Zeke.” He grabbed the leash and took a deep breath. “Don’t worry. If you come with your ol’ pal, I’ll give you a Scooby snack when we get home.” He pushed the door a bit farther and cringed at the creaking sound.
“Hello? Anybody home?”
He peered through the open door. Only the light from the doorway illuminated the room beyond. He pushed the door all the way open. This time the creaking ebbed away as if the door had grown tired of complaining.
He took a step inside, holding tight to the leash. At first, Zeke stiffened his neck and pulled back. Elliot gave a short tug on the leash, and the dog followed him in with his tail between his legs. The two of them cast eerie shadows on the scratched, wooden floor planks. The odor Elliot first noticed on the porch smelled stronger inside.
Against the wall to the left sat an old teacher’s desk, its grey paint peeled away, revealing the dull wood surface below. Elliot recognized a quill in an inkwell sitting atop the desk. A few slates and pencils lay scattered on one side and an old oil lamp stood on the other. These were the last things he’d expected to find in an old shack. Was this an old schoolhouse, and if so, what was it doing in the middle of nowhere?
He exhaled. “Spooky. Boogah-boogah.”
He approached a fireplace sitting in the opposite wall, where a small frame hung above the empty mantle. He hoped the yellowing parchment within it would provide some clue as to the nature of the shack. Extravagant calligraphy etched between the curled edges read, “I have been a sojourner in a foreign land.”
So much for a clue. Still, the words sounded familiar to him, though he could not place them.
In the center of the room, stood an old-fashioned, wood and wrought iron student desk. He encountered resistance on the other end of the leash as he approached.
Zeke sniffed the legs of a rickety coat rack beside the fireplace.
“C’mon Zeke. I don’t much like this place, so let’s make this quick.” His pulse quickened and he gave the leash a firm yank.
Head hung low, the dog followed.
He advanced toward a door in the back wall, which, given the size of the cabin, he assumed led outside. Nearing the door, he narrowed his eyes, focusing on the sparkling gold knob in its center. His gazed moved up the door and he rubbed his fingers along a carved letter ‘M’ in the dark wooden surface a few inches above the doorknob. Someone had etched the letter in a crude imitation of the calligraphy he had seen on the framed parchment. He traced his fingers across the letter, wondering what the ‘M’ stood for.
Elliot felt a chill as a shadow passed across the door. He spun around. “Who’s there? Maggie?”
He received no reply.
“I ... I ... I’m sorry," he stuttered, suddenly feeling cold all over. "I didn’t think anyone lived here.”
A sharp creak of floorboards made Zeke bark. Elliot found it difficult to breathe.
He pulled the leash closer to him and reached behind for the doorknob. The front door--the only source of light in the room--slammed shut, plunging them into darkness.
Blind with panic, his mind raced. He tried to twist the knob. The smell was worse back here, like a kennel. In the darkness, the walls closed in on him. He knew the psycho shut in with him must have been getting closer. His heart thundered against his ribs.
The floorboards creaked. He darted his head in all directions, trying to locate anything moving in the dark. Leaning on the back door, he put one hand up, groping for whoever might be approaching.
His last thought before the door swung outward was that maybe the babysitter didn't need to understand. Maybe the babysitter just needed to get the heck out of the house. He fell backward into open space.
~~~~
Chapter 2 – Into the Woods
“Elliot!” Maggie squinted as a ray of dimming sunlight poked through the branches into her eyes. “Zeke? Where are you guys?” Trotting through the woods with her ponytail bobbing up and down on her back, she spotted a shack up ahead. Once in the clearing, she sat on a fallen, moss-covered tree to catch her breath. The gnarled trunks of immense trees lined the area, enclosing the cabin in a circle.
She leaned over and wiped mud from the bare legs sticking out of her pink Capri's. “Gross.” She straightened up and blew hair out of her eyes. Elliot had better be dead or else she was going to kill him.
A crow screeched from somewhere above.
She leapt to her feet, her heart thumping.
The black bird swooped down and landed on the other end of the fallen tree. It scuttled sideways toward her.
She backed away, her hands out in front of her. “Y-you scared me, bird! Sh-shoo. Go ‘way.”
The crow screeched again. It flapped its black wings and backed off.
She bit her lip. “I was just kidding, you know.” She cautiously sat as the bird hopped up and down. “About Elliot, I mean. I thought he’d have come in here. Zeke sometimes gets off the leash and … I’m talking to a bird.” She shook her head. The truth was she’d known Elliot to hide in the woods after arguing with their dad. It was too quiet and made her nervous, but Elliot wasn’t afraid of the woods. He wasn’t afraid of anything. He would have laughed at her for being afraid of the crow.
A faint mark slashed in the wood between her and the crow caught her eye. Maggie ran her fingers in the grooves of what looked like a ‘W’. “That’s weird.” She looked around and whispered, “I don’t like this place very much.”
The crow shot into the air, cawing as it did so.
She watched it disappear into the tree line. “Bye.”
Taking a deep breath, she got up and walked the tree-lined trail. At the base of the porch stairs, she spied footprints in the mud. A shiver coursed down her spine. Oh, I hope he didn’t go in there. She knew, just plain knew, that it would be pitch black in that little house. There was no way she would go in there. Unless…. What if Elliot was in there? What if somebody kidnapped him and took him in there? What if they had him tied up, or … or worse?
She clamped her mouth shut and shook her head. She needed to go for help. She needed to tell mom and dad. But if she went and got them, and it turned out Elliot wasn’t here, she’d look like an idiot. It was better to double check. Maggie steeled herself and trudged slowly up the stairs, chanting, “It’ll be all right. It’ll be all right.”
Three sets of damp prints stood out on the dilapidated planks leading from the stairs. Upon closer inspection, she determined the smallest of the prints belonged to a dog. Could Elliot and Zeke have been here? Whose was the third set of prints?
“Hello? Elliot? Zeke?”
There was no reply.
She really needed to go back for mom or dad, but what if there wasn’t enough time? Elliot would not abandon her. She knew that from experience.
She stared at the door and screwed up her courage. Elliot would go through any door to find her, and so, she would do the same.
She tried the door handle, but it didn’t budge. “Darn it!” Still, a small sense of relief tingled in her chest. Giving up on the door, she walked back down the stairs and around the shack looking for signs of anyone. She strode to the side of the dwelling in search of another way in, but found the brown clapboard uninterrupted by windows. She saw no footprints and moved to the back of the shack. Again, there were neither windows nor footprints. Nor was there a back door.
~~~~
“Holy … holy crap,” said Elliot in a shaky voice. He lay sprawled on a mound of dead leaves and brambles, with the dog’s furry, yellow butt planted on his chest. He gave Zeke a shove, as his heart beat like a snare drum in his chest.
He snatched the leash, which now wrapped around the dog’s forelegs. “We’re getting out of here.” While Elliot kept a watchful eye on the nearby door of the shack, he worked the knotted leash with shaky fingers.
“Okay, Zeke. Let’s go.” He jogged away from the shack with Zeke in tow. Among the trees again, he kept moving, heading for home. Still shaking, he tried not to think about who might have been in the shack with him, and why. His head flitted around like a bird's, hoping not to find someone watching him.
The trees began to thin. They ran through a field of damp, dead leaves, and then through prickly brown and green ground cover.
He paused to scratch his head and assess their location. They were on a hill, although he did not recall coming down one earlier. In fact, he didn’t remember the trees diminishing around him on the journey to the shack. As he ran up the moss-covered embankment, he spotted the shack and began to worry he had chosen the wrong way back.
The hill crested. Despite the late hour, a brilliant sun shone down through the thinning trees. In fact, it was dusk when he’d first encountered the shack. He jerked to a stop and lifted his gaze skyward. Impossibly, the sun was in the middle of the sky.
Zeke, however, did not stop. Instead, he crashed into the back of Elliot’s legs, causing him to stagger forward.
When Elliot tried to regain his balance, his foot caught under a vine in the underbrush and he toppled forward. “Oh ... Oh ... No way.” He stuck his hands out to break his fall, letting go of the leash. Zeke flopped onto his side, and Elliot tumbled down the hill, briefly regained his balance, but fell and slid sideways on his back.
The last thing he heard was a crack when his head connected with a rotting log at the bottom. And then darkness.
The sound of Zeke barking filled the air for several seconds, before he fell silent.
“D’ya have a master?” someone croaked. “Be it kid-folk? D’ya not speak?”
Elliot opened his eyes and the world tilted around him. He lay sprawled near a bush, a foot away from the log his head had bounced off moments ago. His legs ached; the skin of his arms below his shirtsleeves had numerous scratches. The left side of his head throbbed. He sat up, wincing. Was he hearing things? The old guy sounded like he had a sore throat.
Someone else hissed, “Might be it hasn’t the voice.”
The conversation came from somewhere above. Elliot peered up with blurred eyes, blinking from the pain. His glasses lay among the leaves beside him. Where was Zeke? He scrunched up his face. What was that smell? The aroma of rancid dog food wafted toward him.
“Hasn’t the voice? Why wouldna’ have the voice?”
“Maybe tain’t from this place.”
“Be ya daft?”
“Just sayin’.”
“Argh, curse ya.” The voice bellowed, “Answers me! What manner O’ master have ya?”
Elliot cocked an eyebrow. “Master?” He reached for his glasses and slipped them on. A scratch ran down the center of one lens.
Zeke barked in a way Elliot had never heard. It sounded angry.
“Y’see? S’what I told ya. It hasn’t the voice.”
“Bargh. It has a voice. ‘Tis a different tongue is all.”
Elliot, still shaky, pulled himself to his feet.
Zeke’s barking became more furious and panicked.
“Has a nerve, it does.”
“True. Ya gonna bludgeon it or rip it?”
Elliot’s eyes widened. He took a step forward and gazed up the hill to see the back of a man’s head. Shaggy, black hair covered his ears and ran down his neck. He rasped, “Don’t you hurt my....” He staggered.
The man turned, and Elliot caught a glimpse of something like an extra hairy Neanderthal. He steeled himself. “Don’t--” Before he could get any further, a small sweaty hand covered his mouth from behind, while another wrapped him up in a headlock. Still woozy, he wrestled to no avail, surprised at the effectiveness of the headlock.
Something brushed his ear and a voice whispered, “Shhhh. Don’t say nothing. Just get down and wait.” His captor pulled him toward the ground. Elliot had the sense that either a girl or a young boy stood behind him. The men concerned him more.
“Don’t move. Just stay still.”
Still too groggy to offer effective resistance, he tried to speak, but wound up mumbling from behind the hand. “Buh, mmm dug.”
“Shh ... It’ll be over in a minute, one way or the other.”
Shaking, Elliot struggled through the headlock to look up again, now unable to see the man. He was furious but scared, and his face grew hot. The man appeared not to have heard him, for the bizarre conversation continued unabated.
“So. Ya gonna?”
“Mmm.”
“Gotta make up y’ar mind now. We gotta be back. Lycaon gonna want hisself a full report.”
“Yargh! I heard ya the first.”
“So? What be it?”
“Bargh. Leave it then. Dasn’t have the voice, says ya. Might be ya says true. Strange to see one such a way.”
“It be strange, true,” hissed the second voice.
“Lycaon warned us, ya know.” The voice grew fainter and, within a minute or so, the only sounds were his captor’s shallow breathing, and the rapid beat of his own heart. The headlock loosened and he broke free.
“They’re gone,” said his captor.
Elliot turned to look at a small, gap-toothed boy standing beside him.
“I’m Tendo,” he said, brushing unkempt, light brown hair from his face. “I’m eight, but I’m gonna be nine soon.” The boy’s pudgy chin jutted forward in defiance. “What’s your name?”
~~~~
Chapter 3 – Out of the Woods
Maggie jogged out of the woods, around the side of their neighbor’s house, and directly into Mr. Snyder. She stumbled back, and he held his hands out to steady her. When she regained her balance, he dropped his arms.
“Oh!” she said, taking a few nervous steps backward. Mr. Snyder looked like one of those people on a fishing show her dad watched. He wore ragged angler jeans, a flannel shirt and wader shoes. Tufts of silver hair curled out from beneath a beige, tattered fishing hat, framing his leathery face. Her gaze followed a red scar, which ran from below his right eye to just above his mouth. Their neighbor had a scary appearance, all right, but he’d always been nice enough.
“’Scuse me.” She started to run around his left side.
He held a gloved hand out. “Wait.”
She stopped and turned, giving him what she hoped was a pleasant but “I’m in a hurry” sort of look.
“Was that your brother who ran in there like a bat out of hell?”
Her breathing had almost returned to normal. “Yeah, that was Elliot. He and my parents had a fight, and he ran off with Zeke--that’s our dog. I went looking for him in there.”
“Did you find them?”
“No, I didn’t see him or Zeke. I’m worried about them. It’s getting dark.” She studied the deepening sky, before pointing at the woods behind his house. “Have you ever been back there?”
He hesitated. “Yes.”
“Well, I saw this shack, and it looked like Elliot and Zeke were there. I could’ve sworn I saw footprints going up to the front door. But the door was locked.” Her breath caught. “I don’t know if they went in or not, but if they did, they’re not answering, and that kind of scares me. Do you think they might’ve gone in? I mean, they could’ve just tried the door like I did, and gave up if it was locked.”
He gazed toward the trees. “Did you check the back door?”
She looked up at him. “There wasn’t a back door.”
Mr. Snyder’s face paled and he approached her. Putting a hand on her shoulder, he spoke in a voice that was both calm but with an edge to it. “Go home, Maggie. Tell your parents about what you saw.”
“That’s what I was--”
“Go. Run.” he said with finality. He turned her towards the street and pushed.
She hesitated for a moment to look back at him before bolting for home.
~~~~
The Fisherman made his way into the woods, feeling out of sorts. A boy had disappeared back here. Again. From his window that evening, he had in fact seen the pair passing through his yard, but thought little of it at the time. The dog had often visited the trees behind his house. Now they were gone. It wasn’t supposed to be. And what about the dog? That had never happened before. Something unusual was going on here, and on his watch. This was no good. No good at all.
Now the sister had come back, unable to find him or the dog. He considered the tracks she’d seen leading up to the shack, and that there was no back door. It made no sense. Fifty feet past the edge of the yard, something occurred to him. It made no sense, unless….
“Fisherman,” said a silky, feminine voice.
He clutched his chest.
“You frightened me, Hathor. And please, don’t call me Fisherman here. I’m known as Snyder. At least, that’s what it says on the mailbox.”
“Of course, Snyder.” She extended her left arm in an arc. “But, I do not think you will have cause for concern in these woods.” She offered a faint smile and withdrew her hand below her flowing white robes.
“Yes, well. You can’t be too careful. I swore an oath when you stationed me here.”
“I am well aware of that. Now tell me, Fisherman.” He winced. “What has happened here? There is a new presence in Midian.”
“You don’t miss anything, do you?”
She smiled again. “It is nice of you to say, but the free will of those I seek to protect has caused a miss or two.”
“The children. Yes, they do get up to some mischief. Personally, I don’t know how you keep up with them, or, for that matter, the piece of work who fancies himself a king.” He eyed the golden orb floating above her head. Despite the horns arcing out from her skull, the shimmering orb always made him nervous. “Does that thing follow you around?”
“No, Fisherman, it follows you.”
“Hah.” He took a deep breath and reminded himself to avoid mincing words with a goddess. “There is a boy.” He told her what had happened.
“Why did you not go after him? Why did you not stop him?”
“We were told the portals were closed--"
“They are closed!”
“Then, where is he? His sister looked for him, and she says the back door is missing.”
“Wait,” she said, her eyes blazing.
“What?”
“The sister. That could well explain everything.”
“Explain what?”
Hathor appeared to consider his question for a moment. “There is something I must tell you.”
~~~~
“Mom! Dad!” shouted Maggie, as she yanked open the screen door.
She trotted in and paused at the kitchen doorway beside the bottom of the stairs. “Mom! Dad! Hello? Where are you guys?” Darkness reigned upstairs. “Mommy?” She could hear the sound of running water up there. “Daddy?” Panic welled up inside, and she tried to suppress it. “It’s the toilet. The stupid toilet.” As if on cue, the noise stopped.
She took a deep breath, and scurried to the front door. She looked back into the house while reaching for the screen. “Daddy! Ma--” The door opened before she could grab the handle, and she stumbled into her mother’s arms.
“Maggie. Where were you?”
Her heart jumped clear of her throat, and she gasped for air. After a few gulps, she got the words out. “Maahhm.”
“There you are,” said her father, standing behind her mother.
“Where were you guys?” she asked.
“We were out looking for you, young lady,” he replied. “Where were you?”
“I was in the woods!”
“In the woods?” Her mother’s hand rose to her forehead. “What were you doing there? I wanted you to talk to Elliot, not go running off on a wild goose chase.”
She crossed her arms. “I was looking for Elliot.”
Her father put his hands on his hips. “What made you decide to look for him there? You tramped all over the neighbor’s yard, and into the woods right before nightfall?”
“You don’t understand.” She balled her fists. “Elliot and Zeke went into the woods, and I don’t think they came out.”
Her mother’s mouth quivered. “What did you say?”
Her father put a hand on her mom’s shoulder. “Easy, Elaine.” The creases on his forehead stood out. “Maggie, what do you mean, you don’t think he came out?”
“That’s just it. I swear they were both in the woods. I spoke with Mr. Snyder when I got in his yard. He saw them go in too. Daddy, I think something happened to Elliot and Zeke. I think Mr. Snyder thinks so too, and he told me to run home and tell you guys.” Tears flowed down her cheeks. “We need to find him. Them!”
He squatted in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Okay, Maggie. Calm down. You stay here. Do you understand? Your mother and I will go look for him. We’ll see Mr. Snyder on the way. Now tell us what you saw and where you think he went.”
~~~~
Hathor was pointing to the woods behind her. “And that is why you must ensure the girl follows her brother.”
“But I told her to get her parents! How am I--?”
“You did what?”
“I, well, I thought she should…. Was that a bad idea?” Snyder offered her a sheepish look.
“Of course it was a bad idea! What do you think will happen next?”
“They’ll look for him? Or, call the police?”
“Precisely.” She sighed. “No matter. It is not your fault. You could not have known about the girl.”
“So, what can I do now?”
“You have the parents to worry about. You must keep them from telling anyone. It would be best to keep secret what has happened to their children, but use your own discretion. Above all, Fisherman, the sister must follow.”
The Fisherman searched Hathor’s solid brown eyes. “But, how?” he asked. “The door is gone. The portal is sealed.”
“There are other ways. But first you will undo the foolishness you have caused.”
“What other ways?”
“They will present themselves. Continue to be vigilant in this world until they do. Now I must go and keep watch within. Farewell for now, Fisherman.” With that, she vanished.
He shook his head and muttered, “Divine nonsense.” Still, he wrung his hands and paced back and forth. “What to do. What to do.”
~~~~
Chapter 4 - Tendo
Dirt covered Tendo’s face and permeated his strange assortment of loose clothes. As far as Elliot could tell, the boy wore an olive green pillowcase from shoulders to knees, with holes cut out for his arms. Fashioned as a belt, flesh colored twine tied the pillowcase unevenly to his waist. Despite the edge of panic within him, Elliot couldn’t stop himself from smirking.
“Whatcha laughin’ at?” asked Tendo, his eyes narrowing.
“I wasn’t laughing,” he said truthfully. “I’m Elliot.” Speaking woke the dormant pain in his skull, and the throbbing reminded him that his headache wasn’t finished with him. He rubbed the side of his head.
“Head hurts, huh? I saw you fall. Now that was pretty funny, actually.”
“Funny huh? See how you like it.” Tendo stared him up and down and he met the boy’s gaze. “Are you out here all by yourself?”
“You’re here,” replied Tendo. “Aren’t you?”
“I mean, before I got here. Were you by yourself?”
“Maybe.” Tendo rubbed his nose. “You know you got funny clothes on.”
Elliot glanced at his own clothes for a moment then back at the boy, who looked like a disheveled Flintstones character, right down to his bare feet. “Well,” said Elliot, “they’re not as snazzy as what you got on. That’s for sure.”
“How old are you?”
“Fourteen.”
“That’s pretty old,” said Tendo. He jerked his chin up in one of those “what’s up” expressions. “Where’dya get ‘em?”
“Where’d I get what?”
“Them weird clothes!”
“I don’t know,” said Elliot, who really had no idea from where his wardrobe originated. “Maybe the Gap or something.”
“What gap?” Tendo’s voice had a sharp edge. He looked at their surroundings.
“The one in the mall, I think.”
“Mall? There’s a gap there? You got them in the mall? They don’t let the children go there. How did you get past the Garou?”
Elliot squinted at the boy. “The Ga-who? What are you talking about? My mom bought them.”
Tendo turned white.
“What’s wrong with you?” asked Elliot.
The boy chewed his lip. “Must be nice.”
Elliot searched around, hoping someone would appear and explain all this. He rubbed his head. “Maybe I got a concussion or something. Maybe I’m like, I don’t know, seeing things.” Elliot gazed up the hill, shaking his head slightly. “Now I got a kid in a pillowcase asking me about the Gap. I have to get home.”
“You’re new, aren’t you?”
“What?”
“You’re new here,” repeated Tendo. “That explains things.”
“Right.” He let the word draw out. “All right, Tendo. You’re freaking me out, dude. I’m getting my dog and going home.”
He began to march up the hill, ignoring the fact that Tendo continued to follow him. “Let’s go, Zeke. We’re getting out of here.” He came to the top of the hill from which he had fallen and looked around. The dog was gone. He stomped his foot. “Man!” He cupped his hands over his mouth. “Zeke! Come on, boy! Zeeeke!”
“He’s not going to answer you, you know,” said Tendo. “Zeke, I mean. That’s your dog’s name.”
Elliot tried counting to three, but made it no further than one. He turned on Tendo. “Of course he’s not going to answer me. He … is ... a ... dog.”
“Yeah, but he still wouldn’t answer you. Because they took him.”
“What do you mean? The guy said to leave him.”
“That only means they weren’t going to kill him. But they don’t leave barkers. They take them.”
“Take them? Who? Those guys?” He moaned and rubbed his hand over his face and through his brown hair. He looked up, his fingers still caught in a thatch of hair. “Wait a minute!”
“What?”
“I’m such an idiot.” He reached into the spacious front pocket of his baggy jeans and came out holding a small cell phone. “Hah.” He held the on button until the little square blinked to life.
“Whoa!” Tendo pressed his face next to Elliot’s shoulder to get a better look.
Elliot stared unblinking at the phone for a few minutes, but the message on its screen never changed. No service. “Oh, come on.” He circled the hilltop, holding his only means of rescue high in the air, but the message remained. He slammed the phone against his leg.
“Can I see that?” The boy pointed a grubby hand.
Elliot stared at the phone, his hopes dashed. “Nothing personal, but, uh….” He ran a hand through his hair, and began to pull. “No.”
Tendo’s eyes grew sharp. “It’s not my fault, you know. Actually, if it weren’t for me, the Garou would’ve taken you too. You would’ve gone up there and they would’ve seen you. Then they woulda probably killed your dog because they kill all the children’s barkers. Except maybe, you’re not old enough so maybe they woulda left you, but they get real mad if they find out one of us has a dog. And maybe they mighta known you were in the mall and you ain’t supposed to be, so they mighta taken you anyway.”
Tendo’s hands were on his hips like a teacher lecturing a class. “So you can be nicer to me.”
Above Elliot’s hanging mouth, guilt rose to his cheeks leaving them warm. “You give better guilt trips than my grandmother. I’m sorry, kid.”
“I got a name, you know.”
“Right. Sorry. Tendo.”
“Fine.”
“Listen, kid ... Tendo. I just need to get home. My parents are probably freaking.” He scanned the nearby trees for any sign of movement, any sign of Zeke, before letting his eyes settle on Tendo.
“Can I please see that thing?” Tendo shuffled between his feet, pointing to the phone.
Elliot appraised him, and sighed. What harm could it do? “Just for a minute, okay? And be careful.”
“Thanks!” Tendo grabbed it from his outstretched hand.
He pulled the device open, and a huge smile materialized on his face. He pushed the buttons, oooh-ing and ahh-ing when the phone beeped at him with each key press. “I never seen one of these before. I heard about them though. Jake says he seen one, but he said it was big.”
“Who’s Jake?”
“He’s my brother, and he’s even bigger than Rebecca, who’s my kinda sister.”
“Oh.” Elliot put his hands on his hips. “Anyway, let me have it back.”
“Now?” he whined.
“Yeah, I want to try it again.”
“Fine. Here.” Tendo tossed it, but it landed at Elliot’s feet.
“Oh, come on.” He bent to pick it up, but froze when he saw the large, crooked boot prints in which the phone lay. “What the heck?”
Tendo peered at the ground. “Them’s the Garou tracks.”
Elliot straightened. “The what?”
Tendo rolled his eyes in dramatic arcs. “The tracks the Garou leave in the mud, you big dummy.” He reached down, took the phone, and put it in Elliot’s hand. “You’re welcome.”
Elliot gazed at the phone and sighed. Still no service. “So, what’s uh … what’s a Garou supposed to be?”
“You must be stupid.” Tendo snorted. “Garou are those things that were talking to your dog.”
“Okay, but what kind of people are Garou?”
“They ain’t people.”
“Not…?” Elliot flexed his fingers. “Whatever, dude. Where did they take Zeke?”
Tendo pointed off in the distance. “It’s kinda far, but you can see the place from the cliff. I’ll show you.” He took off at a jog.
“Hey wait up!”
The ground became rockier as they went along, but the forest was still thick with huge and what must have been very old trees. Some of massive ones reminded Elliot of the Sequoias he had visited in California when his family briefly lived there.
He paused in front of one tree and felt the blood drain from his face. “Tendo?”
Someone had nailed onto the trunk a yellow lettered sign. An etching of a head in profile stood out on the lower right of the sign. The sign read:
Unlawful possession of a barker by a child
will result in the immediate detention of both.
By order of Lycaon
Tendo came back and stood beside him.
Elliot motioned toward the sign. “What is this?”
Tendo shrugged. “What’s it say?”
Elliot read the sign aloud.
Tendo nodded when Elliot finished. “It’s what I told you about before. It’s why you got to thank me.”
“What’s that picture? It almost looks like a head, but it’s shaped funny, like a dog.”
Tendo pointed at the etching. “Garou.”
“That’s what those things were up on the hill?” He inched toward the picture, and a chill slid down his back. “No, it’s not a dog exactly, is it? It’s kind of--”
“Yeah. That’s right. Kinda something. Anyway, c’mon, I promised I’d take you to the cliff.” He took off at a jog again.
Flexing his fingers, Elliot stared at the sign a moment longer before following. A few steps from the sign, he walked past a set of boot prints embedded in a muddy pile of leaves. He stared at it for an uncomfortable moment. Half a minute later, he stopped at the edge of a bright clearing and his jaw dropped.
Tendo stood in the bright sunlight, at the edge of a steep cliff. He pointed. “There, I think that’s east.”
Breathless, Elliot followed Tendo’s pointing finger out over the cliff. Far to the east loomed what looked like a castle or some kind of immense fortress. To the north lay a vast black ocean. He plodded toward the sandy edge of the cliff. Thousands of feet below, waves from the angry sea crashed onto a rocky shore. He flexed the fingers on both hands.
“Exactly how far did we just go? Because, that is definitely not Jefferson down there.”
~~~~
Chapter 5 - Krokker
“What’s Jefferson?” asked Tendo.
“It’s, um, where I came from,” replied Elliot, pointing out over the cliff. “And it doesn’t look anything like that.”
Tendo frowned and scratched his head. “I ain’t ever heard of it.”
His mind swam in the black ocean below. The water went on until it met the horizon of the cloudless, copper sky. The distant fortress held sway, but foreboding grey clouds circled its towers. The cliff below angled out before shooting straight down to where the ocean met the shore.
“Tendo? I…” He paused, sniffed the air, and grimaced. “Eww. Dude!”
As he turned to Tendo, a hunched, brown thing jumped from the woods and grabbed the boy, one hairy arm covering the boy’s mouth. It smelled of dirt and blood.
Elliot goggled.
The creature pointed at him. “Arggh. Don’ ya move, my kiddie. It’ll turn bad for ye just as soon as it does for this wee one.
It inched toward Elliot, dragging a whimpering Tendo under one arm. The thing’s tongue hung from its unnaturally large mouth. As if to confirm his worst fears, a dark substance ran from the thing’s mouth, staining its jagged teeth crimson.
“Tasty morsel, this’n. Tender.”
Elliot struggled to keep down the gorge he felt rise from his stomach. He covered his ears, his eyes exploding. It couldn’t be real, just couldn’t be. He was in some kind of horror movie, a bad dream. None of this happened in real life.
Tendo sniffed, tears flowing down his cheeks.
The creature shook its head like a dog fighting an itch. Numerous dirty tufts of hair covered the face, and its large brow protruded over very deep eye sockets. There was something familiar about him and, in particular, his smell.
“Garou,” muttered Elliot.
Beneath its arm, Tendo tried to nod, but the Garou squeezed him tighter. He squealed.
“L-l-leave him alone,” said Elliot.
“Ye dare not speak t’ Krokker, my kiddie. Have yer throat fer that, ol’ Krokker will.” The Garou continued moving to Elliot, who took a step back.
Shaking the horror out of his head, he focused on the boy before him. “Let him go! He’s just a little kid!” Between Krokker’s arm and chest, Tendo’s face had started turning blue.
“Aye. Krokker’ll let him go. Let him go down that crag, he will. And you’ll be followin’.”
He waived a shaking finger. “I’m warning you.” However, he didn’t feel the confidence his words suggested, and took another step back, moving closer to the cliff.
“Hargh! Be warnt then, is ol’ Krokker. And now Krokker has something for ye, yes he does.” He hunched a few feet toward Elliot, with Tendo struggling in his arms. The Garou leaned closer to him and said in a choked whisper, “Things are a’changin’. You be warnt now, ya’ snapper. We won’t be needin’ your kind a’fore long.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Elliot was stalling. He needed to think, but he could hardly breathe. Scared, the smell overwhelmed his senses.
As Krokker took another step toward him, he forced his mind to focus. Tendo looked like he had only seconds before he passed out from a lack of oxygen. His mind raced while the creature sneered.
“Ya won’t need t’ worry yer useless head. Ol’ Krokker’ll have it off right soon!” He let out a strangled growl, fangs bared from his huge mouth. He looked down at Tendo, whose eyes widened with terror.
“No,” said Elliot, too low to hear over Krokker’s snarling. He gazed at the ground for a weapon—a stick, a large rock, anything—but he found nothing but pebbles and sand. What could he do with that? Think! In one motion, he crouched, sweeping his hand across the ground, and then rose with a handful of the stuff. He took aim and threw the debris at Krokker’s open mouth and face. The timing could not have been better.
Taking a final deep breath before the strike, Krokker inhaled the dust and stones. He choked and coughed. “Ya lousy snapper! I’ll have ya!” He spat and clawed at his eyes. “It’s in ol’ Krokker’s eyes and throat, ya nasty!” He released Tendo, using one hand to wipe the sand from his eyes, and the other to clutch his chest as he coughed out several black and oozing pebbles.
Tendo stumbled back from the creature, spluttering, trying to catch his breath. He collapsed and began to cry.
Krokker stared daggers at Elliot “You! Little!” Still coughing, he charged Elliot, shrieking, “Ya snapperrrrrrr!”
Elliot’s eyes widened, and thinking fast, he fell to his left. The Garou followed, but slipped on the gravel and slid past him and off the precipice.
“Ya nasteeeee kiddieeeeee!” rang through the air.
Elliot caught his breath, crawled to the edge of the cliff and peered over.
The Garou hung onto an outthrust on the cliff face, his face raised up to Elliot. His legs found limited purchase on the rocky outcropping. “I’ll have ya! Krokker will have ya!” he shrieked. He slid down on his backside several feet before grabbing hold of another jagged rock.
Elliot’s nerves mixed with laughter and he chortled. “Have me? You aren’t going to do anything to me. Or Tendo. You walking freak show.” He panted through his bravado.
“Ye mocks Krokker does ya? When Krokker gets up there, he’s gonna get his revenge!” He lowered his voice and began thrashing about, kicking at the rock face. “First, Krokker loses the stinkin’ barker, now he gets run off by a lousy snapper.”
Elliot’s eyes flashed and his breath caught. “Did you say a barker? Was he yellow?”
“What knows ya of the yella barker? Stupid barker gets away from ol’ Krokker. Got caught again, he did.” He grew silent and still. The Garou narrowed his eyes and peered up at him.
Elliot’s hopes fell.
Krokker spoke in a measured tone. “That barker. That barker be yours, my kiddie?”
Recalling the sign outlawing the possession of barkers, Elliot mumbled, “Um….” A chill scuttled down his neck.
The creature gazed up at him, unblinking. “Tis yours.” His voice became cool and unemotional. “Ya won’t see the next moonrise, my kiddie. To the soul sucker ya will go. Then to the pit with the rest.” Krokker laughed--a strangled, unnatural sound--it started low, the pitch and volume rising like a siren.
Nervous, Elliot backpedaled from the cliff. He should’ve kept his mouth shut. He didn’t like the idea of not seeing the next moonrise, and so it was time to go.
A hand touched his leg. “We need to get out of here, Elliot.”
He turned to Tendo, who shook, tears staining his small, scratched face. “We sure do.” He reached for the boy. “Are you all right?”
Tendo held up an arm. “I’ll be okay.” He spoke in hushed tones. “We got to go before they come to rescue him.”
“They?”
His eyes were wide. “The guard. He’s important. We got to go.”
Elliot wondered how bad things would get for them if Krokker got free. Would he be able to find them? The Garou looked very strong, so he could probably hang on for a long time. If there was going to be some kind of search party, then he and Tendo needed to be long gone. Although, he couldn’t fathom how anyone would locate the creature.
His question was unfortunately answered as a terrible howling filled the air. Like Krokker’s laugh, the noise started out slow but grew. Elliot had seen a film about tornados and the Storm Chaser’s who follow them. This sounded like the winds of an F5 tornado.
Tendo swallowed a sob and said, “C’mon.”
~~~~
Chapter 6 – Boulders
“We’re almost there,” said Tendo.
They had left Krokker at the cliff, but his howling dogged them for some time. Elliot had only recently stopped shaking from the experience on the cliff, and followed the younger boy in silence.
His mind rushed with questions. What kind of rabbit hole was this anyway, and how was he going to get back? Did his parents know about this place, and if so, when were they going to tell him?
Tendo kept them to dirt paths along their journey. All the while, Elliot kept watching and listening for Zeke. They climbed higher, but his optimism fell when he saw no sign of his dog.
Tendo stopped and pointed to a nearby wall of boulders. Far-away trees dotted the sky above the eight-foot tall rocks spreading away from them into the distance. “The camp is just up there.” The boy’s tears had dried, leaving dirty splotches on his cheeks.
Elliot stared at him. “You sure you’re okay?”
Tendo sucked in some air and brushed a flop of light brown hair away from his eyes. “Yep.”
Elliot wasn’t okay, and he didn’t believe Tendo was either. “So, it’s up there? Above the boulders?”
“Above? Gosh, no. Through.”
“Through? How do you get through? What’s there, some kind of Scooby Doo hidden button?”
Tendo gave him a wide-eyed smile. “I don’t get half of what you say Elliot, but you’re funny. I’ll go in first to tell the child guard about you. Then I’ll come get you. Okay?”
Elliot looked around. “Is that a good idea?”
“Sure,” replied Tendo with a cheerful lilt. “Be right back.” He scampered up to the line of seven giant boulders and stood in front of the second one from the left.
Elliot didn’t like the idea of being alone so far from anything familiar to him. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Tendo turned back. “Yeah. Relax. Why are you so worried?”
He muttered to himself. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because a couple of hours ago I was eating an egg roll in the kitchen, and now I’m in a parallel dimension being chased by hairy-fanged killers from the Lord of the Rings.”
Tendo didn’t appear to have heard him. He put both hands on the boulder and whispered something unintelligible. To Elliot’s amazement, the boy stepped through the giant rock like it was a bead curtain. He did a double take before climbing up to the one at which Tendo had stood moments before. He put his hands on a seemingly solid surface and pushed, but it didn’t budge. “Open sesame!” he cried, pushing again. Still nothing happened. “Really?” He leaned his back on it and stamped his foot. “Tendo!”
He drummed his hands on the boulder. He gazed at the grey clouds rolling in, certain Zeke was under this same overcast ceiling. That, at least, made him feel the slightest bit less alone. “This is so stupid. Tendo! Where are--?”
Two large hands shot out from the boulder and grabbed his sides. “What the--?”
The hands pulled him through.
Elliot staggered and landed on his backside to the sound of accompanying laughter. Boulders formed a large perimeter around the immediate vicinity. Tendo stood with his back to the nearest one, laughing hard.
Elliot rose from the sandy ground and got to his feet. “Nice. How did you--?”
“He didn’t,” said a deeper voice. “I did.”
Elliot spun around to find a teenage boy, maybe sixteen or seventeen, with shoulder length, light brown hair. He wore the same style of clothing as Tendo, although the garment seemed to fit him better. In an arc behind him, several proud trees rose up from the earth. The lowest of the thick branches hung fifty feet above the wide trunks. The sand turned to long grass at the foot of the trees and a path led between them off into the shadows beneath deeper cover. Birds chirped and Elliot heard the distant sound of running water—a stream or brook, perhaps.
The boy stood with his arms crossed and a frown plastered on his face. “Name’s Jake. You must be Elliot.”
“Um,” said Elliot, wiping loose dirt from the back of his jeans. “Yeah.”
Tendo walked over to Jake. “I toldja about Jake. He’s my brother.”
“Good to meet you, Elliot. Tendo told me what you did to that Garou.” He winked. “Nice one. I’m usually the one who looks out for Tendo, but he snuck out of camp on me again. I was going to have to go out and look for him. It seems like I owe you one.”
Elliot’s eyes flitted from Jake to Tendo, who was kicking a pebble in the sand. “No problem.”
Jake smiled. “Come on. I’ll bring you into camp.”
“Wait a second.” He pointed to the boulder behind him. “How did you…? I mean, how did I…?”
“You don’t know the password,” interrupted Tendo.
“You say a password and the rocks turns to, um, not rock?” He covered his mouth.
Jake put an arm on his shoulder. “Well, yeah you need a password, but there’s a bit more. It’s different for each person.”
“Swell.” Elliot shook his head. “And how would I know what I need to do?”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Awesome.”
“Listen, Elliot. You saved Tendo from a mad Garou at the cliff, which is great. But I don’t really know you that well, and given the state of things…” He pursed his lips and rocked his head left and right. “Until Mara has her say, I really can’t help you.”
Elliot let out a loud sigh. Why was the world picking on him today?
Jake strode off down a nearby path, and Elliot followed. Tendo sprinted ahead of them, kicking rocks as he went.
“I mean,” continued Jake, “I’m not saying you’re one of Lycaon’s scouts.”
“Who is Lycaon?” asked Elliot.
Jake didn’t answer right away. He finally cleared his throat. “You’re new.”
“You can say that again.”
They walked under one of the large trees at the edge of the tall grass. Elliot gazed up in wonder. “Tree houses? Really?” He saw the underside of a plank floor fastened to the low branches. A rope ladder hung to the ground and he grabbed hold.
Jake took the ladder from him and examined it. “Not tree houses. They’re guard posts. And the ladder shouldn’t be down.” He cupped his right hand to his mouth, angled his head up, and shouted, “Hey Cass! Rope ladder’s down!”
Not even a second later, the ladder rose up until it hung ten feet above.
Elliot wondered why they needed guard posts given the massive boulders. There hadn’t appeared to be an inch of space between them.
Jake strode over to a huge tree with a trunk the width of an automobile. He bent and picked up a wedge-shaped rock from the foot of the tree. “Might as well get you up on the Memory Tree. Where are you from?”
“Jefferson. Why--?”
“Elliot has two L’s, right?”
“Yeah. But—”
“Shh. Concentrating.”
Jake found a bare spot of bark about two feet from the ground, and began carving.
Elliot moved in beside him and craned his head. He found paired names and places carved in the bark. He read familiar entries like Mary from Kansas City, Liam from Glasgow, Sam from Racine, and Tabitha from Sydney. A lot of the writing was faded and weather-beaten. As he circled the enormous tree, the entries became more bizarre—Glyn from Annwn, Alejandro from El Dorado, Flavia from Mu, and Magda from Lemuria.
He scratched his head. None of these latter places rang a bell.
Five minutes later, the entry Elliot from Jefferson joined the catalog of names.
“There you go,” said Jake, standing back to admire his handiwork.