Goat Mother and Others: The Collected Mythos Fiction of Pierre Comtois (47 page)

He would have said something to Gedney, but a noise from inside the shelter drew his attention. There, lantern light still flickered and a few moans could be heard. The snow had fallen from the interstices between the blocks of hardened snow and through them he could see figures moving about. Something about them seemed wrong however. They were uniformly tall; taller than anyone in the camp, and their heads seemed too big for their bodies. Also, there were too many of them, more than could be accounted for by the members of the expedition. Curious, but with growing trepidation, he rounded the corner of the enclosure to the large, open end where the tail section of the plane crowded close. The glare of a toppled lantern blinded him momentarily but when his eyes cleared, the first thing he noticed were the figures lined up on the snowy floor of the enclosure. At first, he thought they were among the specimens the crew had retrieved from the cave but as he stared, he realized that they were too small for that, the flesh too pale. With growing horror he recognized Lake at the head of the line; his torso had been opened up and parts of him lay scattered in the snow. Now he saw that the other figures were also members of the expedition: stripped and their bodies taken apart in various ways. Then, his vision broadened and he sensed the others occupying the enclosure. Something stepped between him and the lantern, something that loomed gigantically in silhouette, blocking any further view into the enclosure. He took a step back in surprise, then surprise was overtaken by horror as he saw what it was that he faced. The large shape where the head ought to have been was shaped like a five-pointed star with all about it waving eye stalks that studied him unblinkingly. Shifting its weight, the thing moved toward him, its five tentacular arms lashing out, already glistening with blood, its huge bulk towering over him…

Stillnor sat bolt upright in bed, a scream in his throat, one that stopped only when he’d run out of breath. Panting, he threw off the covers and immediately was chilled by the sheen of perspiration that lathered his body.

Running a nervous hand through his hair, he forced himself up and stumbled to the bathroom where he splashed warm water on his face and swallowed a gulp or two of water directly from the tap.

Calmed down greatly since waking, Stillnor decided not to return immediately to bed. Instead, he threw on his bathrobe and went to make a cup of coffee. By the time he’d finished the familiar routine of its preparation, he was able to take the cup into the study without spilling any of its contents.

Just a nightmare, he assured himself. It was all that talk by Zarnak about Antarctica and the Dyer Expedition that did it. I always did have an active imagination.

Sitting in the darkened study, Stillnor found himself facing his desk and remembered the folder Zarnak had left with him. Resisting a rising fear that reviewing at its contents would force a recurrence of the nightmare when he returned to bed, he reached over and took the folder.

Opening it, he began to examine its contents in the light that spilled into the study from the hall. Mostly, the folder contained copies of articles and reports published at the time of the Dyer Expedition and its return to the United States. Here was Dyer’s plea against further exploration of the mountain ranges his own expedition had discovered and a piece on the artifacts brought back for display at the Miskatonic’s museum. There, the dispatches to local newspapers received by radio direct from the expedition. Stillnor hesitated at one noting the discovery of a plant or animal with a head shaped like a five pointed star…its description was disturbingly similar to the thing in his nightmare. A coincidence he was sure perhaps brought on by the stone given him earlier in the evening by Detective Shonross. Continuing on, he came across some photos among which was a group shot of the Dyer Expedition. Even before he had a chance to read the dateline below the photo, he recognized one of the members: Felix Gedney. Now why was that? He’d never seen the man before or his likeness. Didn’t Zarnak mention that he’d been a student on the expedition…that he’d died and his body discovered by Danforth? Yes, that was it. But now he recalled his dream and was sure Gedney had been in it but in just what capacity, he couldn’t remember.

He had almost finished going through the contents of the folder when he came upon another photo that caught his attention, this time it was one of a star-shaped stone, identical it seemed to the one on his night stand. Looking further, there was a quote from Prof. Dyer calling it a “Mnar stone,” something that sources in certain historical texts claimed to have protective properties, but protection against what, he didn’t say. Then something began to tickle the back of Stillnor’s mind. He went to a cabinet and found a street map of Arkham. Unfolding it, he located the places where Danforth had been sighted earlier that evening. Taking a pencil, he drew lines radiating from those points and then, assuming a five pointed star pattern, completed the form. The places where Danforth had been found digging were located at the points of the assumed star. Could it be that there was method to his madness? If so, then Stillnor was certain he could now predict where Danforth would appear next!

Excited with his theory, Stillnor decided that it was too insubstantial to report to the police. He’d take his car and go to the next place he thought Danforth would go. But so as not to waste his time, he called the police to find out if his patient had been sighted anywhere else since Detective Shonross had paid him a visit. He was, but again, escaped before he could be apprehended. Hanging up the phone, Stillnor marked the location on his map. It still fit the pattern! Quickly, he grabbed his coat and ran out to the garage. Backing out the car a little too quickly, he forced himself to calm down and take his time driving to Front Street where a little park would provide the perfect place for digging.

It was almost dawn by the time Stillnor pulled up across the street from the park. There were a few benches but no playground equipment. This was simply an island of green in a neighborhood of older homes that had been renovated in recent years. Slouching down behind the wheel, Stillnor prepared for what he expected to be a short wait. And right enough, it wasn’t long before some movement caught his eye and a white-garbed figure creeped from the shadows and made its way to the park. Quietly, Stillnor slipped from his car and raced across the street keeping a row of hedges between himself and Danforth. Peering over the shrubs, he could see him on his knees already, digging with a stick he’d found, not an easy task what with the late autumn cold. Cautiously, Stillnor rose and tip-toed toward Danforth then, with a quick lunge, threw himself on top of him. As expected, Danforth struggled mightily but Stillnor had a good grip on him, or thought he did. Danforth managed to break free and, spinning about must have recognized Stillnor because he stopped suddenly. But there was nervous tension in everything about him as he crouched, ready to run at the slightest provocation.

“Mr. Danforth,” gasped Stillnor in an attempt to reassure him. “Remember me? I’m Dr. Stillnor.”

“I remember you, doctor,” said Danforth in a voice Stillnor barely recognized. “You want me to go back to the hospital. Well maybe I will after I’m done with what I have to do.”

“What do you have to do, Charles?” asked Stillnor, using Danforth’s first name to reinforce a soothing familiarity.

“Star stones,” said Danforth, looking this way and that as if fearful of being discovered. “The Old Ones’ sign and their protection. Prof. Dyer…”

“What about Prof. Dyer?”

“Dyer, Dyer, Dyer!” shouted Danforth, suddenly. “Dyer hid them and I have to find them before it snows! It’s his fault I had to go!”

At a loss for words, Stillnor could only stare, hoping Danforth would regain control of himself and let him take him back to the hospital.

“The voice in my head!” agonized Danforth as he pounded his skull with his fists in some kind of desperate attempt to drive out whatever it was that had compelled him to flee the hospital and disappear for weeks. “The voice won’t leave me alone! It tells me what to do and I don’t want to do anything! I just want to be alone! Alone!”

“Get hold of yourself, Charles,” soothed Stillnor. “I’ll help you but first we have to get back to the hospital…”

“No! I have to get the stones, break the wards, end the protection — the voice said so,” insisted Danforth, obviously struggling in some sort of mental tug of war. “Dyer hid the stones. Dyer and I. He said they’d protect us from them. I don’t want to remove them but the voice says they work against hybrids too, so I have to. I have to!”

With that, Danforth finally lost control and ran off into the night leaving Stillnor looking helplessly after him.

Not knowing what else to do, Stillnor decided to return home and inform Shonross of what he had discovered about predicting Danforth’s movements. He determined not to tell the detective of his own encounter with the patient, there was really no need. He was sure that with his information, the police could lie in wait at all of the remaining points that Danforth was sure to visit and nab him at one of them.

On the way home, however, Stillnor had the opportunity to mull over Danforth’s obvious agitation. Surely, from what he could see, the patient was still suffering from some residual effects of his catalepsy. His ravings made little sense and his agonized behavior indicated a great deal of internal confusion. Still, his condition was a great improvement over his previous comatose state and Stillnor had hopes that his patient could make a complete recovery under proper psychological care.

The key was to free him of the delusion that he was hearing voices, voices that seemed to blame Prof. Dyer for his predicament. Clearly, Danforth attached significance to digging up the so-called star stones that he claimed…wait! The star stones! They were obviously for real because Danforth had been digging them up, one was even delivered by Shonross to his home! Despite himself, Stillnor was suddenly forced to accept the fact that aspects of Danforth’s ravings were based in reality. What was it he’d said? That it was both he
and
Dyer who had hidden the stones. For some kind of protection against…what? Suddenly Stillnor found Danforth’s case to be more complicated than he first assumed. The more he considered it, the more questions he had.

Back in his study, Stillnor made his call to the police. It took a while to convince Shonross of his “theory,” but at last he succeeded. That done, he was free to again look through the material given him by Zarnak. There was mention of the star stone so-called in Dyer’s old monograph about what he liked to term “the mountains of madness” and their apparent connection to a pre-human race of star-headed creatures he termed “Old Ones” but nothing about any protective qualities they might have. Also, there was mention of Danforth’s mental condition upon their return to the United States and their agreement not to discuss details of what they’d found in Antarctica. Clearly, from the monograph, Stillnor could tell that something had shaken Danforth greatly but was it really some ultimate horror hinted at by Dyer? What he needed, thought Stillnor, was more information about what Dyer and Danforth did after they arrived home from the expedition. Why, for instance, did the two apparently bury star stones around Arkham? Smacking of superstition, the action made little sense for men of science such as Danforth and especially Dyer had been.

Considering, Stillnor now recalled that Zarnak had said that artifacts were brought back by the Dyer Expedition and had since been housed at Miskatonic University. The museum there, he knew, was quite famous for its collection of artifacts from around the world gathered mostly before the second World War. The institution had fallen behind somewhat in its display and cataloguing practices since those days but as he understood it, still boasted material that scholars found invaluable. Surely, among that material, he could find information on Dyer’s doings after he returned from that ill fated Antarctic expedition?

Stillnor had been too busy at the hospital the next couple of days to get away, due mostly to the return of Danforth, who had been captured by police at one of the locations he’d suggested. Trussed in a straightjacket, the patient had been able to walk into the hospital with a police officer on either arm but soon after being placed in his room, he’d lapsed into silence and refused to cooperate with the staff.