IN THE DARK
C.S. Rock
Copyright © 2011 C.S. Rock
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4661-0593-5
SMASHWORD EDITION
DEDICATION
Dedicated to the two Stephanies, past and present, in my life.
Children of the Silver Legion
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The plot of this novel has been swimming around my head for more than 20 years. I would like to thank my friends and family for acting as a sounding board for my ideas, particularly my brother Scott, who helped me flesh out the ending. And of course, there would be no story without there being a comic book industry. I remember reading the Marvel Universes in the mid-80’s and becoming fully enamored with the background stories and the pictures of the many characters. I do not think comics get enough credit for pushing literacy and knowledge of history like they should.
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“Free your soul and let it fly, give your life to the Lord of Light, keep your secrets and rain on me, all I see are mysteries.”- Lord of Light by Iron Maiden
“How well I know what I mean to do, when the long, dark autumn evenings come.”- Robert Browning
CHAPTER 1
Ian sat on the bus trying to the count the leaves blowing aimlessly in the wind. The only thing that mattered to him at that moment was counting the debris of autumn, and he liked to count pretty much everything he could. It was an above average session for him today. He counted all the jellybeans in the jar five times before the teacher stopped him, and he learned to spell two new words. They were “cat” and “bird.” New words always made him feel giddy inside.
He boarded the bus like he always did at the end of the school day, but the teacher left in quite a hurry to find the absent bus driver. They were all special needs children, with some being more special needs than others. Ian was usually well behaved, but some of the others needed to be kept on a short leash.
He was still counting the leaves when some of the children gave up a cheer. Ian looked up for a second and saw a tall man wearing a crusty black suit with a bright red tie open the door and step onto the bus. He looked this strange man over, and shuddered. He did not like this stranger. He reminded him of a very bad man he knew where he used to live before, a man who had tried to hurt him and his daddy.
The air hissed and wheezed, as the hinges of door reluctantly moved to allow this strange man passage, and a gust of wind rushed in rudely as he made his way up the steps. He eyed the children with famished eyes, and a smile pursed his lips.
“Hello, children, I’m your new friend. My name is Maynard, but I prefer to be called Hades…Hades Indigo! Can you all say Hades? Say it with me now. H-A-D-E-S,” the man cackled enthusiastically as he led the children through a rousing spelling session like a demented clown.
“It’s not hard. It’s like any other word, but so much better.”
The children all looked out blankly, but something miraculous occurred. Those that could speak yelled in unison the name of their new friend, and even Simon joined in with his digital computer voice box. The children were acting in unison to show their adulation for this strange new man, everyone except Ian who shrank back in his seat in abject terror.
“That’s good, that’s real good. Now who wants chocolate? Everybody likes candy, don’t they? It’s so nice and sweet. Goes great in your tummy and I won’t tell your parents. It’ll prepare you for an even bigger treat."
Ian’s eyes lit up slightly at the mention of sweets. He did not like this strange man, but the offer of chocolate bars wetted his palate. He carefully studied this stranger, and he flinched as an unholy odor filled the passenger cabin. Hades Indigo was very tall, even taller than his father, but he was also very slight of build. His arms were bony and sinewy, and his hair was jet black and slicked back like an obscene imitation of Pat Reilly. A very long, thin and oily mustache hung down carelessly from the confines of his face.
Ian jumped up startled in his seat when he saw the man raise one of his hands up. The index finger was by far a lot longer than the rest of his digits. It was elongated and slender, and unpleasant memories flooded back. Thoughts of a man named Vainglorious, who hurt him real bad not too long ago. Hades reminded him a lot of his father’s uncle, who tried to kill him and his father. A warm puddle began to form in his seat, and the man stopped right in front of him. A chocolate bar lay like a piece of treasure in his outstretched hand.
“Do you want it or not little man?” Hades asked with a concerned smile.
Ian obligingly took the sweet treat from the man, and began a half-hearted attempt unwrapping the candy but dared not eat it. It reeked of a strange magic that terrified him. He looked around and saw his fellow classmates happily scarfing down their chocolate rewards. The man walked back to the head of the bus and turned around to face his crowd.
“Now children we’re going to take a little field trip. Do we like field trips? Come on now. I want to hear you now. Do we like field trips?”
The children clapped their hands together in mild applause, and the man’s face broke into a wide grin. The potion in the chocolate was starting to take effect. Even now he could see some them nodding off into the strong arms of Morpheus. There were sixteen children and he only needed thirteen for the main ritual. The other three would go towards bringing the Master’s servant to the earthly plane. Their souls were pure and that was what he needed. He reached up and pulled on the left strand of his long, oily mustache with one his long index fingers.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” thundered a voice from behind him.
He turned around quickly and saw a rather large and rotund figure standing in the doorway of the bus. It was a woman, or something that once passed for a woman. Her skin was bathed in pimples and her hair was greasier than a bacon skillet. Her eyes were beady and dull, and betrayed her lack of intelligence. An equally offensive odor wafted from her that matched Hades’ stench, but her aroma was biological and not of a mystical nature. His face contorted in disgust as he locked eyes with her.
“I said what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
These children were left unattended, and I came to see if they were okay,” Hades replied.
“I had a quick errand to run inside,” the beastly woman said as her face grew red and then redder as Hades looked down at her feet and saw a piece of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of her foot. He grinned again at the satisfaction of knowing the Babylonian Spell of Spastic Bowels still worked.
The woman scanned the bus and she grew angry at what she saw.
“You gave these children chocolate? Oh dear lordy you gave them chocolate? Just who do you think you are? You can kill some of these kids with that.”
“My name is Dr. Maynard Indigo, you porcine beast. The children have to be unconscious for their journey to the ritual. My Master and I have need for their pure souls. I am going to change the world with their very essences.” “Ritual? I’m driving these children home.”
“No, you are not, you filthy trollop.”
“I’m Marjorie Applewhite, the bus driver. I am paid to take these children home,” she screamed.
“Not any longer, you piece of diseased trash. The Church of the Morning Star needs these pure children and you’re going to be dead,” Hades sneered.
The door of the bus slammed shut behind the woman as if possessed by a supernatural force. Her obese body slammed against the closed portal, and she tried to scream as one of Hades’ long index fingers came up for her forehead. The last sounds she heard were the indecipherable words of an ancient Egyptian death spell. Pain flooded her body as she felt the spindly finger cleft itself into her crown, and then everything went black. Hades pulled his finger out of her head and began to admire his handiwork. Her body began to shrivel and blacken and soon there was nothing left but ebon ash.
He turned towards the children and took note of their slumber. Ian was faking he was asleep because he did not want the man to pay attention to him. Hades sat down on the well-worn leather of the driver’s seat and turned the key. He drove away humming a depressing song as the children slumbered unnaturally.
****
Julie jolted up in her seat as she felt the needle bore into the soft tissue of her arm. The nurse just smiled and wiped the area of penetration with an alcohol swab. A burning sensation ran through her body, but she knew she would be able to tough it out. Pregnancy was a roller coaster and one shot at a doctor’s office would not be the straw that broke the camel’s back.
“All done Mrs. Slarsen. I can’t believe it’s been eight and a half months already,” the nurse sounded saccharine and smarmy when she said this, almost like she was acting.
Julie looked at the nurse and thought of how hollow her eyes and smile were.
“Thank you,” said Julie as she carefully got off the examining table, and proceeded to put her maternity clothes back on. She winced as a jolt of pain shot through her body again and carefully rubbed the site of the shot.
“I wonder what was in that needle? I’ve never had a shot burn like that before,” she thought and she went cautiously out the door.
After Julie exited, the nurse went into the employee bathroom with her purse. She made sure the door was locked, and searched in her handbag. She so hated playing nice but it beat having men grabbing onto her ass all day while she gave lap dances. Triumphantly, she produced a cell phone and proceeded to dial the seven digits.
“Hello this is Sandra. Tell the master that the deed is done. Yes, six women have been given the serum. Dr. Williamson knows nothing about it. Everything is set if he got the retards like he was supposed to,” the voice on the other line was brief and terse, just like she was.
Then she flushed the toilet and looked at herself in the mirror. Her life had been tedious and boring, but being part of the Church of the Morning Star had changed everything. She was part of something big for once in her life, something that mattered. No more stripping or taking money from guys so they could pleasure themselves to the sight of her nubile body. Hades had promised her that the world was in their grasp and all they needed was his help and all their wants and wishes be granted. She was going to finally do something with her life. She was going to matter regardless of who got hurt in the process.
****
Sarah held Ezekial in her arms. He was cold and sweaty and mumbling something about the devil. She tried to comfort him, but it was to no avail.
“That must have been some kind of dream, my husband.”
“The city will burn with his unholy fire and the child…the child! We must save the poor babe…his father might be able to stop it. YES!!! The father is the key.”
“It is okay, my husband. Please calm down.”
“Tomorrow we journey to warn the father,” Ezekial screamed hysterically as he bolted out of bed. He flung the bedroom door open, and ran past his assembled daughters, who were awakened from their slumbers by the calamity.
“Daughters, please follow your father,” Sarah said calmly as she rose out of the comfort of her bed. Her long blond hair glistened in the soft light of the moon as it poured its gentle beams through the window.
“Mother, he’s going to the barn,” exclaimed Mary.
Sarah rolled her eyes, and walked through the darkness. At this moment, she wished that they had electricity like any normal American family. Being Amish had its drawbacks. She liked the lifestyle for the most part, but sometimes she did find herself pining for the technology of modern life that made things easier.
She came out of the front door of the farmhouse, and the faint appearance of lantern light coming from the barn showed her where her husband was located. The girls trailed behind her, and she looked over her shoulder to make sure they all were still there. Their faces were framed in the moonlight like ghostly apparitions, and she felt secure in the knowledge that they were behind her.
Sarah stepped into the barn and saw her husband frantically pulling straw from one corner of the structure.
“Ezekial Morninwheg what are you doing?” she called out.
He turned to face her, and she jumped at the fire and intensity that burned in him.
“I have been saving this for the time when we might need it, and now is the time,” he pulled more straw out of the way and finally a black shape began to reveal itself.
“An automobile!” Sarah exclaimed.
“Yes my dear wife, I’ve saved it for an emergency. It is a 1967 Ford Falcon, and I scrimped and saved for just this occasion several years ago.And the time is now.”
“Where are we going? You do not even have a driver’s license.”
“We are going to Detroit tomorrow to warn of the Apocalypse. This car still starts and I have some fresh gas around here somewhere. It will get us there quickly and safely. I am not taking the carriage for a trip that would only take two and half hours by car.”
“What happened to you Ezekial?” she inquired. This was so unlike him.
“I had a dream,” was his reply.
Sarah went back to bed and was slightly perturbed when Ezekial did not join her. He was still in the barn working on the car.
“A car?” she wondered, “How did he even knew how to work on a car? The girls had gone back to bed, but were chattering about the opportunity to actually ride in their father’s rickety automobile and going to the big city. Sarah looked up at the dark abyss of the ceiling and tried to sleep. She did not like the idea of this journey. The big city was not a place for the Amish. They were renowned for being places of evil and vice. Detroit was not a place for the pious, but they were going regardless. May heaven have mercy on all of their souls.
CHAPTER 2
“No, Mrs. Hewitt, experimental brain-stem surgery at MSU will not save the Arfster. I’ve done everything I can for your dog, but he is twenty-three years old. That’s a very long and fruitful life for a dog. Heck, that dog is older than my high school intern. All I can do is scrape some of the diseased tissue out, and that may only prolong his life for a few weeks, maybe a month.”
“So you advise against the experimental brain surgery at MSU Doctor?”