Ash Return Of The Beast Part 33

"Stop," Kane said. "Right there." He pointed to a gap in the guard rails.

Ravenwood cranked the wheel and positioned the vehicle in front of the entrance and paused. The light from the headlamps seemed to get lost in the dense forest ahead. Uncharacteristically, she had managed to spook herself with her previous train of thought. What might be waiting for them up there in the woods?

Kane's patience, or what had thinly pa.s.sed for it up to this point, had completely run out. He barked at her. "The h.e.l.l are you waiting for? Drive!"

"Now, before we continue," the Doppelganger said, "there's the little matter of something you have that belongs to me." The voice was calm, unnervingly so.

Before the old man could reply, his trembling body slid, slowly, unwillinglycompletely beyond his controloff the edge of the bed. He toppled over, face first, onto the floor. The crus.h.i.+ng impact broke his nose and snapped an upper tooth clean off at the gum. Blood spurted ferociously from his mangled face onto the dusty beige s.h.a.g carpet. The fibers of the carpet sucked the blood up like a thirsty vampire. A weak, pleading sound gurgled up from the old man's throat.

Deep within the cowled shadows of the hooded robe, a spiteful grin crawled its way across the Doppelganger's hidden face as the old man writhed in pain.

At the Inner Sanctum, within the hallowed darkness of Moorehouse Manor, Rye Cowl sat cross-legged in the center of the Lucifer Seal, absorbing every blessed moment of pleasure from these first few moments of his revenge. His Someday had arrived.

Ravenwood put the SUV into gear and slowly proceeded to enter the logging road. Broken twigs and gravel crunched loudly under the weight of the vehicle as it crawled along, b.u.mping and jostling its way over the ruts into the inky black woods. As she fought the wheel to keep the SUV from veering off course, a large dark thing appeared briefly in the headlight beams and then darted out of sight. She slammed on the brakes. "What the h.e.l.l was that?"

The sudden stop thrust Kane forward, his seat belt yanked him back. "What the h.e.l.l are you doing? What was what?"

"You didn't see that? How could you not see that? It was right there." She was nearly shouting.

"A bear. A G.o.dd.a.m.n Sasquatch. Your imagination. How the h.e.l.l do I know? Can we just go, please? Like, now?"

Pastor Pete crawled at a snail's pace across the floor toward the bottom drawer of the dresser. Every movement brought a jolt of pain, his frail joints burned, his sagging muscles quivered under the strain. After what seemed like an endless journey, he reached the drawer and, with great effort, pulled it open. He knew what the Doppelganger had come for.

The Doppelganger stood over the old man, watching him like a heartless hunter delighting in the struggling movements of his wounded prey.

The preacher reached into the drawer, his arthritic fingers painfully groping, fumbling through various items until he found the coin. He held it up and the Doppelganger s.n.a.t.c.hed it from his trembling hand.

Turning it over and over, The Doppelganger examined the long lost prize and spoke reverently, admiring it as if it were the most rare of precious gems. "A beautiful thing, isn't it? Brings back memories. Remember that beautiful summer day you had me tied down to your bed? You did things to me. Remember that? I still remember what you told me. Do you remember what you told me?"

The old man whimpered, sniveling like a baby, tears welling up in his eyes. "I... I don't..."

"Oh, sure you do. You said if I told anyone, you would... what? Remember? Think. What did you tell me?"

The old man could barely get the words out between heaving sobs. "I...I said... I would...ki...ki..."

The Doppelganger gave a quite laugh of indifference and slipped the coin into the pocket of the robe. "You would kill me. Yes. Well, you won't have to kill me. I never told anyone. Not a living soul. Ever. So, you see, I kept my end of the bargain. And now I'm going to make a bargain with you."

"A... a bargain?"

"Yes. You see, there's one more thing I need from you. You give it to me and I will let you live. More than that. I'll even offer you protectionsanctuary, you might call itfrom what's coming."

"I don't understand. What... what's... coming?"

"Trust me, you don't want to know."

"What do you..." the old man choked the words out, "...what do you want?"

"I need you to give me the book. I need the book of keys."

"Book? Keys? I... I don't know what you mean."

"The Keys of the Gate Keeper. You inherited it from your father. Remember?"

"My...father? Why would my"

"Let me jog your memory."

The hooded figure extended a hand, touching the preacher on the forehead. The touch was gentle but it sent a shockwave coursing down the old man's spine. His body lurched and fell. His mind lit up as if struck by a bolt of lightening. In that brief, intense moment of illumination, a memory flashed through his brain. He remembered going through the various things his father had left for him. He remembered the cardboard box packed full of books. He recalled one of the t.i.tles: The Keys of the Gate Keeper. He'd paid it no attention at the time but now it seared itself into his consciousness. "Yes, yes, I...I remember it now."

"Of course you do. Now get it for me."

"I...I can't. It's...not here."

"You don't want to play games with me, old man. I'm offering to spare you from an agony beyond your comprehension. I want the book. Now."

Pastor Pete struggled to move his feeble body but it wouldn't respond. "I swear... I swear to G.o.d. I...I don't have it."

The Doppelganger bellowed. "What do you mean you don't have it?"

The old man cringed as the voice exploded inside his head. He cried. "Dear G.o.d, please..."

"I'm your G.o.d, now, you piece of s.h.i.+t. The book. Where is the G.o.d d.a.m.ned book?"

The old man trembled. "It's...it's at my son's house. All of my father's things... I didn't have room here..."

"Your son? Who the h.e.l.l is your son?"

"Bri...Brian."

The Doppleganger was silent for a moment, processing the unexpected information. "Your son is Brian Kane? The G.o.d d.a.m.ned cop who's been trying to f.u.c.k everything up?"

The old pastor nodded.

The Doppelganger chuckled. "Well now, isn't that just ironic as all h.e.l.l. Where does he live? Where is his house?"

"He doesn't... live there anymore."

"What?"

"Linda, his ex-wife... and Sarah... his daughter...they..."

"They live there? Alone?"

The old man nodded.

"And the book... it's there?"

The look on the old man's face told the Doppelganger the answer was 'yes'. "You're doing very well," the Doppelganger said. "Now, you're going to tell me the exact location of that lovely little house."

CHAPTER 69.

Moorehouse Manor...

The towering old mansion was dark as a tomb when the SUV came screeching to a stop at the curb out front. Kane was out of the vehicle and flying up the stairs to the front door before Ravenwood had even yanked the keys out of the ignition. She grabbed her long-handled flashlight from under the seat, hooked it to her belt, and raced after him.

Standing next to him on the porch, she pulled her gun and gave him a nod.

Kane pounded on the door with his fist. "Police!" he shouted. "Open up!"

He tried the latch but the door was locked.

"Stay here," Ravenwood said. "I'll try the back."

"f.u.c.k that," Kane said, aiming his gun at the door latch.

She wrapped a hand around his wrist like slapping a pair of handcuffs on a bad guy. "No, wait. You'll wake up the whole d.a.m.ned neighborhood. Let me try the back door."

She started down the stairs but he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back. "Hold it," he said, pointing to the large window just to the right of the porch.

Ravenwood looked at the window. "That's got to be six feet up from the ground. How do you plan to get up there?"

"Not me. You."

"What?"

"C'mon," he said, pulling her down the stairs.

They crunched their way through the dried brambles and dead bushes in what had once been a garden along the front foundation of the house.

Standing under the window, Kane clasped his hands together to form a saddle for Ravenwood's right foot and boosted her up. Once she had a grip on the window ledge she was able to swing her left foot over far enough to brace it against the porch rail. She was now stretched, spread-eagle, directly above Kane's head with one foot on the porch rail and the other in his hands. Her black denims were ready to rip at the seams.

She glanced down and caught him enjoying the view. "Take a picture, why don't you?"

"Would if I could. Just break the d.a.m.ned window, will ya?"

Using the b.u.t.t of her gun she broke the window, chipped the shards away from the frame and managed to pull herself up and in without suffering more than a ripped sleeve and a scratch on her arm.

Kane looked around, hoping no one heard the shattering of the gla.s.s and then he sprinted back to the porch.

Ravenwood pulled the flashlight from her belt, switched it on, found her way to the front door and let him in.

"Nice work," he said.

She straightened her clothes and brushed a tangle of hair back from her face. "I was a burglar in a former life."

"Sure you were. Now, let's find that crazy son of a b.i.t.c.h."

CHAPTER 70.

Trails End Trailer Park...

Pastor Pete's mind was reeling, confused, terrified. If he could only stall for a little more time, maybe his son would show up and save him, put an end to this nightmare. He looked up at the hooded figure standing over him. "The book..." he said, choking the words out, "...what is it? Wh...why do you... want it?"

The Doppelganger chuckled. Perhaps it was time to enlighten the old b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

Pastor Pete listened, awestruck, horrified by what he was hearing as the hooded figure provided a gruesomely detailed picture of the grim events that would soon unfold.

"It will be a glorious time, believe me," the Doppelganger said. "But right now, time is wasting. The house. Where is it?"

The scenario of terror the Doppelganger had impressed into the pastor's mind was unimaginable, couldn't possibly be true. He didn't want to believe it and he wouldn't have believed it except for the fact that what was happening to him right now, right this minute, was as real as anything he'd ever knownin some ways, more so. How could he not believe it? But what about Sarah and her mother? If he revealed the location of the house he'd be responsible for what would happen not only to them but to Brian, to everyone, to the entire world. "No, I can't," he said. "I...I can't tell you. I w-won't tell you."

"No? Well, I think you will."

"I won't."

"You will."

The Doppelganger waved his hand over the old man. The old man's body contorted and then went rigid. He suddenly found he was flat on his back, virtually paralyzed. He tried to speak but he couldn't make a sound, couldn't even open his mouth. Only his watery eyes were free to move as they followed the hooded figure circling around him like a lion deciding which part of his wounded prey to devour first. Then the Doppelganger knelt down and extended a finger toward the pastor's forehead.

The old pastor wanted to get up, to run, to escape whatever was about to happen but he couldn't so much as turn his head. In his mind he heard his own voice screaming: Wh...what are you doing?

A little bit of decorating, came the answer.

The old man realized then that the hooded devil was somehow inside his head. The monster could hear his thoughts. Pastor Pete mentally bellowed a curse: d.a.m.n you to h.e.l.l!