The Watchers (38 page)

From
The Mind Possessed: A Personal Investigation into the Broad Haven Triangle

by Dr R. Caxton (Clementine Press, 1980) p.213

11.50 p.m. Praying that Frobisher would be all right, I reached the black bulk of the Haven Hotel up on the hill just as St Brides Bay turned crimson. I could still hear the village drains gurgling with the sudden downpour; could still see the narrow lanes turning into dark rivers; could still see the slow procession of people heading for the end of Giant’s Point.

I came to the great door of the Haven Hotel, surprised it was unlocked, and pushed it open. The smell in the main hall was of wet leaves.

‘Randall?’ I called, and my heart kicked into overdrive as I realized that anyone – or anything – could be in here with me.

I went into the ground-floor dining room and from the window looked down on to Little Haven. A second later I witnessed the spectacle that has for ever remained burned onto my retinas: out to sea a great column of light was punching out of Stack Rocks, up into the clotted clouds, as if it had exploded right out of hell.

Then I saw a vast shadow break through the clouds and descend towards the sea. It appeared in the sky immediately above Stack Rocks Island, and as it did a low rumbling sound came down from the heavens.

Those who survived that night would all give varying descriptions of the object, but most agreed it was like no aircraft they’d ever seen. Gigantic, triangular, emerging from rolls of swirling mist. If it had any engines, they weren’t making any sound.

An advanced airship, some sort of balloon?

I heard a low bellowing roar and for an instant night turned to day: the craft projected a great red radiance that washed the shore of Little Haven in a shimmering glow. As it did I thought,
We should have evacuated the village
.

The rain was torrential. The river above the school burst its banks. Water cascaded down the steep hill towards Little Haven. Anyone who saw the water and mud and sewage from the plant at the top of the hill come pouring down would have said there was something unnatural about the sight, but the truth is there weren’t many people looking. They were on Giant’s Point, as still as statues, gazing up.

The school, where all of this strangeness began, was hit first. A pole carrying electric wires was ripped right out of the ground by the torrent. Cables snapped, sparks flew, and under a bellowing wind the pole crashed down onto the school hall.

The school hall exploded. And the water rushed on.

By 11.55 it was sweeping through the village towards the cove. The post office, the pub and the church were flooded, and those people who remained on the seafront were swept away in the surge. A team of investigators later said it was the water in the Ram Inn that seeped through into the electrical system of the restaurant next door that caused the Nest Bistro at 42 Grove Road to explode. Even from the Haven Hotel I felt the shudder as flames leaped from the windows, licking out into the night. Then the roof came off, flipping in the wind, crashing into rivers that had been roads.

In the sky over Stack Rocks the triangular craft was rotating. Its underbelly was the source of the light beam which burst across the sky and held the village, but as I struggled to rip free from the paralysis that kept me there, watching, I couldn’t think of it purely as a light beam. More of a death ray.

– 61 –

Awake. Rain was sweeping into the fort, my island prison, and from across the black expanse of sea I heard screams, hundreds of screams – a nightmarish chorus that sounded as though all the horrors of hell were pouring into the Havens. Two realities spinning together. This world and another.

What happens when they clash?

The Watcher was still in the chamber with us, its broad silvery outline flickering in and out as if it was only halfway through the portal or was about to change its appearance. Through the nearest casemate I could see the glow of something in the sky reflecting off the seawater and, beyond, Little Haven drenched in an eerie light. Something told me it wasn’t the light of the blood moon.

I’ve been led here, I’ve been used as bait
.

And the admiral’s knife came down.

I rolled, heard the strike of the blade on stone. Heard the admiral’s frustrated cry.

He came at me again. I swept my leg into his, flooring him. Scrambled to my feet.

‘I came willingly,’ I cried, looking down at him. He started coughing so badly I wondered if he would be able to breathe. ‘But not for this. I came for justice and peace.’ I glanced at Araceli, who was now still and quiet next to the altar. ‘I came in the name of this woman’s protection.’

‘Look at her eyes!’ the admiral said, his voice full of rage. ‘She can’t
hear
you.’

The Watcher flickered again, and this time a sickly green glow traced its shape.

I reached for Araceli with the part of my mind that had been lighting up these past few days, the part of my mind that saw the future and had dismissed the Watcher at the window, but there was nothing. All trace of the woman I had once thought warm, attractive, had burned away.

‘Stop this!’ A hoarse voice bellowed around the seething space of that chamber.

Who could have come at this crucial moment? Who could have made it across the rough sea at the heart of the storm?

I wheeled around and relief swept through me.

Grandfather. His face was dirty and drawn, his greatcoat muddy and black.

‘How the hell did you get here?’ I asked.

No answer.

Something bothered me about his appearance, but I couldn’t pin it down.

‘Randall Llewellyn Pritchard,’ the admiral snarled. He was on his feet now and looked both surprised and furious. ‘You are a welcome addition to this sabbat.’

‘You think I’m afraid?’ Grandfather rasped. His head shook as he faltered forward – a weary soldier. ‘What else have I to lose? You took my life when you took my daughter.’

‘You should be afraid,’ the admiral said. ‘Actions have consequences and must be reconciled with them. Not in the manner of a Christian. Not by turning the other cheek or by making excuses for the offender. Actions that are wrong must be reconciled by the way of the Watchers.’

The admiral came for me then, quick as a dog, seized me and raised his knife.

How is he so strong?

The Watcher was towering before us, its putrid stench in my nostrils.

The admiral addressed it with reverence: ‘My Lawless One, Beast of the Apocalypse, Duke of the Thirteenth Gate, accept this man as testament to our loyalty, an original moon child, who came of his own free will. I demand you claim his soul!’

The eyes of the Watcher flashed.

‘You demand it?’

Hard and commanding, the voice did not come from anywhere around me, nor press against my ears; it arrived directly in my head.

‘
Who else?’ the admiral said to the Watcher. ‘I am your brethren. I have led the others in worship of you. And with obedience and will, it is I who have summoned you here.’

‘Why now?’

‘To fulfil your plan as it is foretold.’

A distant siren wailed from the shores of Little Haven.

‘Just listen! The masses will live in misery, in fear of the skies. They will feel the emancipation of the Lawless One. Take what is offered. Grant to me what is promised.’

Grandfather said grittily, ‘You can’t control their thoughts.’

‘Who is this?’
the Watcher demanded. It shifted but again failed to break the circle.

Grandfather seemed to understand. ‘It can’t break your mental force,’ he muttered to me, before raising his eyes defiantly and addressing the Watcher.

‘I’ve been waiting for you, oh, a long long time.’ He shook his head with deliberate purpose. ‘Demonic entities masquerading as aliens, using wicked humans to run the new world order. But you need a moon child to do it. Or someone who has sinned.’

The sky roared. Jagged shafts of light penetrated the casemates as the air vibrated.

‘I offer knowledge. Secrets,’ cried Randall.

‘Speak then. Offer.’

‘First let the moon child go.’

‘No!’ the admiral shouted. ‘My Lord, this man is disruptive and clever. You must destroy him.’

‘I decide who lives who dies.’

The admiral’s grip on me slackened for a moment. I scrambled away to Grandfather’s side and immediately noticed the old man’s shoulders were shaking.

‘You all right, boy?’

‘I am now,’ I managed.

His eyes met mine. I saw him draw a breath, saw his bottom lip tremble.

‘What’s happening?’

Grandfather took my hands. There was little strength in his grip, and his calloused hands were icy. ‘It’s the end, boy. It’s falling apart out there.’

‘No. You know what to do. We’re going to be OK. Aren’t we?’

‘
You
will be fine. Tell the story. Warn people.’ I saw the shimmer of tears in his eyes. ‘Signs and lying wonders, boy – that’s all they are. Like your doubts and fears that never went away but taught you to fight. This ends now. But before it does, there’s something I want you to know.’

‘Grandfather, there’s no—’

‘I love you, boy. I love you dearly. And I always did.’

He turned to face the Watcher and the admiral. Even though the world seemed to shake, I saw a controlled calm come into his face.

‘It is I who warned of the sky spectres,’ Grandfather announced. ‘I am the reason Jack Parsons and the others who revered his work came here to the Havens.’

The Watcher twisted its head towards me.

‘An original moon child. He can unleash the powers of hell upon this world if his soul is given unto you,’ said Randall.

Apparently revitalized, the admiral came for me again, and I felt his cold knife against my throat. He shouted at Grandfather, ‘Choose, Randall! You will die tonight. But if you want your grandson to live, bow down before the Lawless One.’

‘Grandfather,’ I whispered, ‘I have faith in you.’

That was when the Watcher released a horrific sound that reverberated around the gun chamber. But still it didn’t break the circle.
Something’s holding it back
.

‘Your grandfather has failed,’ the admiral said to me. I felt his knife draw blood. It was trickling down my neck. ‘The sky spectres have been released!’ he then declared to the room. ‘Seal the portal, swear the Oath of the Abyss.’

Suddenly I understood. I looked far into my own mind and made a decision to release the hate I had felt for Grandfather for so long. To let it go and believe in him totally.

‘Bow down in the name of the Lawless One if you want your boy to live.’

Grandfather’s eyes were suddenly hard with an emotion I couldn’t read. ‘He’s not my boy,’ he said in a flat voice.

I thought I was used to his surprises, but what was this?

‘Cut his throat,’ said Grandfather.

I stared at him, blinking. He was bluffing, wasn’t he?

‘Did you hear what I said?’ Grandfather said to the admiral.

I tried not to let my uncertainty show, tried not to flinch.

‘I said cut his throat!’

This time I did flinch. This time the shock travelled all the way to my lungs.

The admiral nodded to himself. ‘The great prophet finally understands.’

‘I always understood,’ Grandfather said, looking into my eyes, which must have been wide and stunned. ‘Since the day he came to live with me. Why do you think I drove him away? A lonely child who drew the emissaries of wickedness to our door. I knew his soul was corrupt.’

‘Grandfather, please!’ My voice cracked on the last word.

Then an unforgettable disclosure. Unforgettable because it broke me.

‘It was I who killed your father, boy. At the cliff edge, after your mother jumped.’

He gave me a look that pierced my soul and broke my heart and made my faith in him bleed out.

‘The look on his face when I pushed him . . .’ He paused, pulled in a breath. ‘You were there, Robert. You saw it all. And I helped you forget.’

‘You
made
him forget,’ the admiral said.

‘As you made your daughter forget, made the headmaster forget what he had done to those poor children at the school.’

The light of hope inside me went out.

‘Finish this,’ the admiral said to the Watcher. ‘Take their souls.’

There was a blinding light, a scream to torture the ears, and Randall dropped to his knees. I wanted to run to him but couldn’t move; wanted to call out to him but couldn’t speak. His cry competed with the thunder that ripped the sky. Then the life went out of his eyes and Grandfather’s body slumped forward. When his face hit the stone floor there was a sharp
snap
, then thick dark blood pooled around his head.

My grandfather was dead.

When I looked up again, I saw that the Watcher had changed: there was no silver suit, no helmet, no convex black visor. Gaunt, misted within a black shadow that fell to the ground, the figure still towered over all of us, and it had acquired a face.

My God, that face.

I was staring at a sharp beak that reminded me of the raven-nosed masks worn by fourteenth-century plague doctors. That beak must have been half a foot long, and curved up into two black holes that might have been eye sockets. Only there were no eyes; just hollows that blazed with a red light – an evil light – that paralysed me.

The Watcher advanced, breaking the circle, and the admiral’s grip on me tightened.

In a flash I understood what Grandfather had done. My faith in him had held the Watcher back. Grandfather had broken that faith, so now the Watcher could move, could break its circle. Could attack any one of us – including the admiral.

Throwing all caution to the wind, I forced myself to look again upon that beaked face, those burning sockets. This time I didn’t just look at them; I looked
into
them, and I whispered, ‘You will not harm me.’

The black candles spluttered.

‘What are you doing?’ the admiral said. His voice shook with fury. His blade was cut further into my skin. I should have been terrified. But what did I have to lose?

‘This man has summoned you prematurely,’ I told the Watcher. ‘He doesn’t react to your presence because he has protected himself. He means to control you.’

The Watcher glowed with crimson light and the admiral released me. He stood frozen in the centre of the chamber.

‘Is this the truth?’

‘Control is necessary to maintain the new order,’ the admiral protested. ‘Master, do not doubt me. We will have this world. Fire will rain from the heavens and I will lead them in your name.’

The entire fort shook. The admiral dropped to his knees, face contorted with agony. His knife clattered to the floor.

It came to me in a flash:
The conscious mind can exert control over the material universe
. That’s why the admiral had brought me here, why he had wanted to use me.

The Watcher’s gaze stabbed the admiral’s face.

My old mentor cried out, ‘Help me, Robert. Help me!’

And a part of me wanted to – the part that remembered the way he had first taken me under his wing in Parliament. I thought of that freezing morning overlooking Westminster when, on the roof of the House of Commons, he had told me to keep faith – to never give in. Then horrific images surfaced: the committee room in Parliament exploding into flame, Selina’s coffin sinking into its grave and finally the awful compassion in Grandfather’s face as he sacrificed himself.

My mind drifted:
You can’t control events, Robert. Only how you respond to them.

‘You wanted a world of pain and suffering,’ I said softly, ‘well feel it now.’ I only had to concentrate for a second, and the admiral jerked his head back; his hand went to his heart and his eyes bulged. I focused, really concentrated. Everything at that moment felt different. Looked different. I was experiencing a state of heightened awareness I’d known only in dreams. Textures and landscapes, sounds and fragrances, unfurled before me, energy fields and particles – the very fabric of reality.

Certain minds can tune into the extra-dimensional world. You’re doing it now, Robert. Use it.

In rapid flashes I glimpsed the future and the past, worlds that are and have never been. And I understood: the normal, solid world was just a facade, an illusion of normality.

I willed him to die. And the admiral collapsed, clawing the air.