The Golem Part 23

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Just not to night.

She pulled on a robe and slipped out, leaving Seth asleep in bed. Her hands shook as her brain forcibly excluded realistic thoughts. Certainly, the two masked a.s.sailants were the same men who'd stolen the clay barrels. For what reason, she didn't care, nor did she care about the prospect of reentering the bas.e.m.e.nt to night. She only cared about what she'd stashed down there earlier in the evening when Seth had been in the shower.

Moonlight lit the edges of the kitchen's tranquil darkness. She retrieved the key from the closet and slipped outside.

Her brain felt like a heart beating frantically for more blood...

The warm mugginess outside sucked more sweat from her pores. I can't get caught. What would Seth say? What would he do? Judy knew she'd rather die than contemplate that. The moon s.h.i.+mmered on her as she padded barefoot down the short porch steps. She wasn't so much consciously walking to the side of the house as much as the side of the house-and the bas.e.m.e.nt doors-was yanking her there as if by a tether.



She unlocked and opened the doors. Quiet, quiet... She moved down the steps, then grabbed the dry-cell flash-light she'd left here earlier. For some reason she thought of the dead dogs in the graveyard-headless dogs. G.o.d! But she still moved deeper into the bas.e.m.e.nt, not even squeamish knowing that the strangely mummified hand-and probably much else-was buried in the hidden room. Her hands shook uncontrollably now; she reached between the two farthest barrels and s.n.a.t.c.hed up the bag.

Only six rocks left, she saw with a desperate tear. At the graveyard, she'd smoked half the bag, and three more pieces during Seth's shower. Three now, she pleaded, two tomorrow, then the last rock the day after. And after that...

She would quit, no matter how hard it was.

That or I'll kill myself...

She loaded the pipe, turned off the flashlight, and fired her lighter. The diabolical bliss shot to her brain at once; she felt enraptured, however evilly. Because that's what this is, she knew. Evil. The lighter cast chopped shadows on the wood walls, shadows that moved like people lurking. A half hour later, her brain sparkled as she finished the third piece. Then she groaned to herself, helpless, and cried outright. She couldn't help it.

She smoked the last three pieces.

When she turned with the flashlight, a squashed, grinning face seemed to float before her eyes, and a big palm slapped across her mouth, m.u.f.fling her scream. The flash-light clunked to the floor to shoot its light to the other corner. The hand was pressing her face against the back wall, the grin still floating.

It was the larger of her two rapists.

"Shhh! Shhh! Don't'cha make no noise or else I'll have to kill you and loverboy upstairs..."

She wheezed in a breath when the hand slid off. She s.h.i.+vered in place. "My, G.o.d! What are you doing here?"

"Saw the light when I was drivin' by, so I thought I'd drop in and see how you're doin'? So how are ya doin', t.i.ts?"

No no no no please no... "Why are you here?" she sobbed.

"Figured a junkie with a jones hard as yours must be runnin' low on your supply. That so?"

Judy looked to the dirt floor. "It's all...gone."

A snorted laugh. "Dang, girl! You ain't missed a step, and that's good. Here." He offered a plastic baggie. "Here's five more rocks. Free. How's that?"

Her brain lit up again, just knowing the supply was there. "And all's ya gotta do for it is this," the whisper sharpened. "So listen up. Make sure you'n loverboy ain't here tomorrow between noon and two. Got it?"

She whined, helpless. "How can I possibly guarantee-" "Just do it." The voice was stone cold. "Use them college smarts of yours, think'a some way to get him out the house."

"But, but-why?"

"Don't matter," he replied and suddenly squeezed her throat till her tongue jutted. "No questions. Do like we say and everything'll be dandy. Don't do like we say-" Like a card trick, his cell phone snapped open, its tiny screen alight with the snapshot of Judy smoking crack in the graveyard. She hacked a sob when the next picture clicked on: Judy performing f.e.l.l.a.t.i.o...

"I understand," she croaked.

"Good girl. I got somewhere ta be right now but...s.h.i.+t." The masked face looked at his watch. "Always time for love, right?" And then he hoisted her up on a barrel top, pushed her back, and opened her robe.

"For G.o.d's sake, please no..."

"One more noise out'cha and I'll walk upstairs right now and cut his face off..."

Judy believed it. She bit her lip till it split when her thighs were splayed and her robe dragged apart. Her eyes rolled back when he entered her; all she could do was shut her mind off and focus on the last of the crack high. Her rapist humped her perfunctorily and machinelike, joggling her atop the barrels.

"There. That's the ticket," he said when he was done. He stepped away to refasten his jeans. "Just you do as you're told, then you and Sethie-poo'll be just fine."

Judy lay back limp across the barrels.

"And don't forget. Tomorrow, between noon and two. Don't be here. Got it?"

Judy nodded, staring upward.

"And leave them d.a.m.n doors unlocked."

"I understand."

He pinched her cheek. "You do what I say, and there'll be twenty more rocks waitin' for ya tomorrow night."

His footsteps scuffed off, then tromped up the stairs. Judy remained where she lay, her legs hanging off the barrel. More nauseousness rose when he felt her a.s.sailant's s.e.m.e.n run out of her s.e.x. She felt like something rising from the dead when she got off the barrel. She looked at the bag of crack and wept.

And smoked two more pieces, then stashed the rest and ran out of the bas.e.m.e.nt. The awful euphoria made her struggle to remember her instructions. The doors. Leave unlocked. Back outside, she quietly reclosed them, refixed the chain but left the padlock open. A m.u.f.fled noise sunk through the fog of her high: a motor?

The moon fell across the road in front of the house, leaving light like luminous frost. A large black step van pulled slowly past, its headlights off.

It's him, she knew.

She expected it to drive on but instead, the lumbering vehicle turned left, onto the wide ser vice path that cut a straight line into the field, the road she'd walked today.

The black van disappeared, yet in the distance, to the east, she was certain a blossom of light glowed amid the tall gra.s.s.

Where the h.e.l.l is he going? she thought.

VII.

D-Man stopped the van on the dark ser vice path and peeled off the stocking mask. Now at least he'd learn what was going on, not that he cared much. He only cared about the money and staying in good graces.

Nutjob remained asleep in the van, snoring through his pot-sodden stupor. Loser, D-Man thought and got out. a.s.shole don't know what he missed out on. His groin tingled after the rape. Switchgra.s.s brus.h.i.+ng both shoulders, he turned into the narrower path east and followed the light at the end.

What was it he called it? Something about circles? Didn't matter, just more of their weird Jew hocus-pocus. D-Man tried not to think too hard about such conjectures, nor about the thing that remained dormant in the back of the van. Just doin' my job... The Gaon called it a goilem, but D-Man figured it didn't matter what he called it. To him, monster would do.

The lights grew brighter as he approached; eventually he entered the circular clearing. d.a.m.n. What a show. Several more dead dogs hung upside down on tripods, headless. He didn't know what they used the heads for, but what they used for the bodies was clear. Buckets sat beneath the neck stumps, filling with blood. Floodlights on more tripods lit the scene, bright as an artificial sunlight glowing within the field. At least ten members of the Kahal hal worked in tandem: several tending the buckets, others walking slowly about the clearing carry''ing more buckets, dribbling the stones with fresh dog blood. The Circle of Ten Circles, D-Man recalled now. Ten small circles of stones formed the main circle, with an eleventh in the middle. All the Kahal dressed as the Gaon did, black slacks, black s.h.i.+rts. One silhouette appeared before one of the flood-lights, a cut-out shape of crisp darkness.

"Ah, my faithful friend. What do you have to tell me?" D-Man stalled. "We just done tested the detector in one of the buryin' grounds, and it worked just fine."

"I'm pleased. And the woman? Is she sufficiently cowed?" Cowed ain't the word. D-Man almost laughed. "She'll do anything we tell her. And it's all set for tomorrow 'tween noon and two. She's gettin' the dude out the house and leavin' the bas.e.m.e.nt unlocked."

"Perfect," the Gaon whispered.

"But-but-"

"What's bothering you, my friend?"

D-Man simply had out with it. "These lights, fer one thing. It don't matter none we're half a mile in the field. Ya can see the lights from the road."

"No one," the Gaon clarified, "will see the lights. I know this to be true for I have faith that it is true. I hope that one day you learn such faith."

Best keep it shut, D-Man resigned. Why argue? The money was still green. He changed the subject by looking at the queer pebbled circles on the ground. "So's what's it for?"

"A temple of beseechment in death, D-Man. After all these decades, the sacred will of our ancestors will be fulfilled. I don't expect you to understand just how important this is to us."

And I don't care, D-Man thought, though even now he was beginning to feel ill at ease. These people, and their magic, and now these-these circles of b.l.o.o.d.y stones...The Gaon actually believed he was the reincarnation of some Jewish dude from over a hundred years ago. This is a weird f.u.c.kin' crew I'm workin' for.

"And how is the good Captain Rosh?" came the next question.

"He was none too happy about the delivery bein' delayed but once we did that s.n.a.t.c.h job for him, that settled him down."

"We had more important things to do," the Gaon said. "The proper mixing of the clay, but now that job is done. The next delivery should be ready in twenty-four hours."

"Oh, and, well...He saw it to night."

"He saw..."

"You know. It. Had no choice but to show him."

"I see," the Gaon replied. "And his reaction?"

D-Man had to smile. "He was s.h.i.+t-scared. Took the sa.s.s right out of him."

The Gaon nodded. "Which can all be used for our gain. Just as the woman is cowed by drugs, the captain is cowed by cash, and now...by terror."

You got that right. D-Man hated to think what would happen if he ever got out of the Gaon's good graces.

"So tomorrow, between noon and two, you've arranged to access the bas.e.m.e.nt?"

D-Man nodded. "If it's there, we'll find it."

"It's there. I know it is, for I've been foretold." Whatever. "Shouldn't be a problem."

The Gaon gave D-Man a piece of paper. "And here's what you're going to be doing tomorrow after two o'clock. With any luck you'll be back by not much past midnight."

What the f.u.c.k? D-Man thought when he looked at the paper. And then the Gaon explained.

"You want us to do what?" D-Man asked, slack-jawed. "You've never failed in the past. And it's better this way."

"But it's so risky! We could get caught so easy!" When the Gaon turned in the light, his face was revealed-of course, the face of Asher Lowen. "You need more faith. Do you have faith?"

"s.h.i.+t, I don't know!"

"Everything you do is risky, yet you've never been caught. Tell me, D-Man. Do you believe that you're just lucky, or do you believe that you're being protected?"

"Protected?" D-Man stared.

"Protected by the ideal that's protected us," Lowen finished. He put his arm on D-Man's shoulder and turned him back toward the path he'd entered from. "Don't worry, my friend. I have enough faith for both of us, and my faith...is power."

VIII.

A small-gauge chain-not a leather strap-comprised the tourniquet this time. The cricket chorus throbbed through the night; the river guttered. Stein stood chain in hand over the p.r.o.ne form of Jary Kapp, who lay on the ground, wrists and ankles still lashed.

"Hey, Captain," Stein called out. "You've wanted this guy for over a year, and you paid a lot of money to get him. So-here he is."

"I don't care anymore," Rosh muttered, fingering his chin. He sat against the cruiser's fender.

"What's with you to night?"

"I don't know!" he blurted, but he did, he did. Rosh had seen it, Stein hadn't: that...thing in the van. Yes, he very much had wanted Kapp to question about the Pine Drive murders but now? No need.

Kapp himself lay with eyes squeezed shut, murmuring. Prayers? Rosh couldn't conceive of a drug dealer such as Kapp believing in G.o.d. But after seeing that thing? Who knew?

Rosh nudged him with the toe of his shoe. "What was that thing, Jary? It was the same thing from Pine Drive, wasn't it?"

Kapp just gulped. Was he still paralyzed by shock? That's how I feel right now, Rosh realized. He kicked Kapp harder when he didn't respond. "What was it!"

Kapp hacked, then grated, "Somethin' from h.e.l.l, man." Something from h.e.l.l... Rosh believed it, even though he'd only seen it for a split second. Skeletally thin, and glistening, like bones covered with wet mud. Lipless, with rotten teeth showing; noseless, with a face more like a s.h.i.+t-caked skull. When it had looked at Rosh, it did so with empty eye sockets, yet it saw him just the same.

Rosh stared at Kapp, who was still murmuring to himself. "You're praying, aren't you?"

Finally, Kapp's eyes snapped open, and he smiled. "Ain't you?"

Rosh felt sick.

"Punch my ticket, you white piece of s.h.i.+t cop f.u.c.k," Kapp provoked. "Don't care how or how slow, ya know? I want out. Don't wanna be in this world no more, not with that thing in it."

Rosh stared. His eyes flicked to Stein. "Kill him."

Stein knelt, wrapped the chain around Kapp's head, ear-level. He inserted a crowbar through two links. "Ready to meet your maker, Jary?"

Kapp grinned. "Yeah."

Stein cranked down on the crowbar. As the gird of chain tightened, Kapp began to chuckle.

"Harder!" Rosh yelled.

Stein torqued the bar like a lever that wouldn't quite give. Kapp's white teeth showed through the beaming grin on his dark face, even as he convulsed from the pain. "An' remember, Cap'n. I'll be gone, but you'll still be here...with that thing." And then he shrieked laughter.

Furious, Rosh stooped to help Stein. "Crank it like you got a pair!" He put his hands over Stein's and cranked the bar.

The Golem Part 23

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The Golem Part 23 summary

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