A Lonely and Curious Country (37 page)

“Holy fuck!”
I screamed.

I couldn’t help it. The sight was so shocking, so terrifying, that it knocked out my normal capacity for self-control. My body thrummed like a drumhead, and my heart was tapping out the marching beat of Notre Dame. I was sweating, and for Christ’s sake, I think I might have pissed myself—

Jess’s eyes snapped open. He looked demonic. “Will you shut up? You are fucking up the ritual.”

“But look!” I pointed to the sky.

***

Alex, Kristine, and Diane opened their eyes; because they were facing the same direction, with Jess facing toward us, they all saw it. Strangely enough, neither of the girls screamed—but Alex did, a hoarse, male cry—and for some reason that was worse. I glanced over at Kristine and Diane and saw them gazing skyward, eyes bulging, mouths agape, teeth apart.

We no longer held hands.

The link had been broken.

The creature became more visible, although its jerking movements made getting a clearly recognizable image impossible. Round, larva-like body; viscous wings; clawed hooves; and that face—horrible, with buggy eyes and sharp teeth. It compared to nothing I’d ever seen in my life.

Jess wheeled, lifting the cowl back off his head. I couldn’t see his face when he screamed but the emotion in his voice was petrifying.

“Night Gaunt!”

I had no idea what those two words meant.

But as I watched, paralyzed, the creature came swooping down out of the sky, descending like a nuclear missile to the place where the five of us had gathered. I saw it close up for a second, and I marveled at its waxen, fleshy body and its fecal, primal reek, before its snapping claws closed firmly around Kristine, lifted her off the ground, and carried her off to the stars.

Diane screamed: shrilly. I screamed, Alex screamed (had Jess screamed?)—fuck it, we all screamed.

The creature—is Night Gaunt what Jess had called it?—flew clutching Kristine over the clearing.

With one sharp clench of its sharp teeth and bear claws, and with an excruciating
crunch
that made me want to vomit, the poor girl exploded in a spray of blood and bone. Chunks of gore rained down, thumping against the grass.

The Night Gaunt then circled overhead, screeching a triumphant cry of mayhem and rage, and within seconds was diving toward us again hungry for more—more death, more blood, more carnage.

We scattered, fleeing like roaches from the light. Alex and Jess went left, and Diane and I went right. By chance, the creature followed them. The consolation was mitigated when a scream traveled up over my head. The Night Gaunt had caught another; again the crunch, splash, and the scream was silenced. Distant behind me, recognizable thumpings...

I could no longer emote or feel upset; I was numb. Whatever sadness I experienced over the fact that one of my longtime friends was most likely dead was relegated to my subconscious. We escaped into the trees, running up against a small, narrow ditch. I managed to hurdle it, but Diane lost her footing and went down. The scrambling of her limbs was followed by a shriek of pain.

“Please, wait!”
she cried.

I was roughly ten feet ahead of her. My nerves were shot and my adrenalin was pumping. I could no longer experience
fear
, per se, but rather a madly driving
push
to run, run, run. I could see the outskirts of the forest ahead, which led to the cars, to the street, to civilization, and safety.

***

“Please...”

She was back behind me. Should I leave her? Should I go? Or should I...

I turned and there she was lying in the rocky, weed-choked ravine. Her face was black with dirt, her legs bent unnaturally behind. She reached to me with a clenched and tortured fist.

Christ, she’s hurt.

I had the flash of a memory, of accidentally hitting a cat with my car in the neighborhood I lived in with my parents as a teenager. It had been my first car, and the poor cat had come out of nowhere. As I looked back in my rearview mirror to see it twitching on the asphalt, a voice in my head said,
You did that, it’s your fault. Now it’s your responsibly to make it better. Go on—help!

But I hadn’t helped. I was afraid, for one thing, of its bloody fur and twisted body; and for another, I didn’t want anyone knowing I’d hit it. I’d been speeding and my parents might’ve taken the car away.
So I drove off, leaving the cat in the road. But I never forgot.

I squatted on my hunches, taking Diane’s hand. Her skin felt icy cold. I pulled slightly; she groaned.

“How badly are you hurt?”

She looked at me with glazed eyes and nodded. “Shin, ankle...” she said. “I sprained it. What the hell was that thing?”

“No time to talk.” I wedged my arm beneath her, attempting to move her upright. When I had her standing up, both her arms around my neck, and mine at the small of her back, I couldn’t help but grin. I was her knight in shining armor.

We turned back into the forest and I heard Jess’s voice raise up through the night...

“No... no... nooooooooooo!!!”

...followed by terrible screams, and the savage wails of the Night Gaunt, and then finally the end, silence.

Were they both dead now? Did it even matter? I imagined myself floating in a tiny cloud, into which nothing could penetrate, and outside of which nothing was real, like being in a dream.

Diane nudged me. She wore the pleading, frightened countenance of a child.
Save me
, her expression said.

“Get us out of here, Tom.”

Her use of my first name brought me back to reality. I didn’t want to die here, not like this.
Stupid Jess!
I was really going to miss him. I tightened my grip on Diane and started off into the trees.

It came up behind us almost instantly. Diane started screaming and digging her claws into my neck. The pain made me move faster, but her added weight impeded the escape. I had to struggle to battle through the dense shrubs and foliage.

The Night Gaunt kept at our backs. I sensed it more than saw it; heard it, too, screeching like an eagle, diving in the treetops and snapping branches. I wanted to rescue the poor girl. Hell, I’d wanted to rescue that cat years back. But sometimes situations are cruel. Things go badly and things get worse, and then survival is what matters.

The Night Gaunt dropped through the branches directly over our heads. It screeched, and Diane echoed its piercing cry. My heart pounded as I attempted to hurry us forward. No use; her weight was too much.

I saw the Night Gaunt lunge at us and without thinking I shoved the girl into its gnashing claws, falling back onto my butt.

It gathered her greedily to its bosom, claws enfolding around her. I smelled the thick putrid stench of its hide. Wings beat the air and the last thing I saw was her face—her horrified, pleading face, stretched like an O—as the Night Gaunt launched itself up into the canopy and disappeared.

You did that, it’s your fault. Now it’s your responsibly to make it better.

My stomach sank, but this wasn’t the time for shame or regret. I could hear the Night Gaunt making quick work of Diane, could hear her blood pelting against the trees—which meant it would soon come back again. I had to move it—
now
.

I got to my feet and started running back through the forest. I felt blind, running along a dark tunnel with no distinguishing light at the end. The only hope was my car, my escape back to the “real” world.

I ran with everything I had.

Eventually I reached the edge of the woods and came in sight of the dirt lot where we’d parked. I’d been running so long my whole body burned and itched. My legs felt like jelly.

I gasped and panted my way through the screen of trunks (was I sobbing too?) and made a break for my Honda. The girls’ car stood darkly beside it. And there it would stay, too.

At some point the Night Gaunt had backed off its pursuit, gliding instead high above the treetops, keeping watch. Tracking me. I could still hear its beating wings but couldn’t tell where it was.

With rubber fingers, I reached into my pocket and retrieved my car keys; dropped them; retrieved them again; got myself in the driver’s seat and closed the door, blocking out the forest and the sound of the Night Gaunt’s wings. I engaged the ignition. So far, so good. I reversed and backed onto the highway.

The road seemed empty as my headlights cut through the night, paving a swath of dark asphalt. The cab smelled faintly of Jess and Alex, which I found vaguely disturbing. The hum of the engine lulled me.

“Oh Goddammit!”
I screamed suddenly, slamming my palm against the wheel. This all felt so crazy—I didn’t even know if I was going in the right direction. I kept moving: anything, even getting lost, was preferable to the forest, the death, and the Night Gaunt.

I depressed the button to roll down the window, felt the cool rush of air, and stuck out my head. Listened. All I heard was the engine and the wind. The sound of beating wings was gone.

I turned on the radio, a classical station—Strauss, I believed—and drove. Kept driving till the lights of town appeared. I recognized where I was finally and took the corresponding road to my downtown apartment.

I parked, went in, and locked the door. The interior was silent. The Night Gaunt flashed before my mind’s eye, and I switched on the light to make it vanish. Earlier, before leaving to perform Jess’s hare-brained ritual, we’d had a few beers here in the kitchen; the empty bottles stood where we had left them.

The horrible incident had left me feeling queasy, so I threw on my pajamas and got into bed. I had to leave the light on, though. I tried to sleep but kept tossing, turning, seeing Diane in the gulch reaching for me, and Kristine carried into the sky to be obliterated, Jess and Alex’s awful screams, but most of all… the terrible, beating wings of the Night Gaunt.

My thoughts ran erratic; my body tingled with nervousness and fear, and I sweated even though there was a chill. Should I call someone? The police? Would they believe one word I said?

My stomach formed knots at the thought of police officers standing at my front door, and I groaned as I rolled onto my side, then onto my stomach, but nothing could put me at ease. I was tortured.

I got up to peer out the window, searching the stars and clouds and moon, looking for the beast.

Where had it gone?

Suddenly a mental lightbulb went on.

I returned to the kitchen, grabbed a beer, and plopped down at my desk, switching on my laptop. I signed onto my email account and scrolled through my messages. A month ago Jess had sent me a link to the place where he purchased the goddam book that caused all this. That seller, I decided, was the person to contact.

I found Jess’s email and followed the link. It sent me to eBay, a seller named
mythosdealer93
. I clicked the name and saw a picture of a gaunt, austere man with black hair and pale skin, wearing a tuxedo. In his profile picture he stood before a ruinous building beneath a sunset sky. It said location Bali, Indonesia.

Who the hell was this joker?

I searched through his available items: books, mostly; several creepy little bronze statues; ornate mirrors, hooded cloaks, a dagger; even a miniature stone altar.

“What a bunch of freako shit...” I murmured.

Mythosdealer93 had a seller rating of ninety-nine percent. I considered, with a chuckle, a negative review I could write: “Terrible seller! Beware! Items summon otherworldly beasts that will eat you!”

I clicked on the Contact Member link and wrote a brief paragraph explaining who I was and what had happened. I hinted at the Night Gaunt but kept it ambiguous in case there could be a court case in the future. But I described how my four friends had been gruesomely murdered and ended the message with, “I blame you for all of this,” then hit SEND.

“That ought to get his attention.”

Not a minute later I heard the notification ding that I had received an email. My heart leaped into my throat.

“Nah-huh, no way.” Probably just a spam advertisement.

But when I switched tabs to my inbox, I saw in the bar-line of the new message the name Mythosdealer93. There was no subject.

“Son of a bitch...”

Swallowing my terror, I clicked the message.

***

Tom:

Thank you for getting in touch with me. I must admit that butchering your friends earlier this evening made for a fine time. However I was rather disappointed that I didn’t get my claws into you. You looked so supple and moved so limber. I appreciate your sending me this email that I might locate you again. Let us now finish what we have started... 

I hadn’t stopped reading even a second when I heard the tap on the window to my right. Slowly, I turned my head in that direction. Through the narrow part in the curtains, I could see...