Heaven's Eyes Read online

Page 8


  “If you can call it creative,” Nick muttered as he shuffled through the photos.

  “Think of it as a live action horror movie, with Vein Drain providing the soundtrack,” Ron suggested.

  Nick held one of the photos up for Alexander to look at. “Decapitated shock rocker?”

  Alexander declined the chance to look, instead answering, “Don’t tempt me.”

  Chuckling, Nick set the photo back with the others. “So,” he said, “gimme the gory details.”

  Without preamble, Ron slapped a printout of an artist’s rendering of the old Landmark Resort. This updated one, however, depicted the rides as Chaz Black saw them in his mind, with the bloody script “Terror-Copia” sign over the park entrance.

  Taking it all in at once, Nick merely commented, “This could get interesting.”

  Chapter 11

  “Quiet Contemplation”

  Out on his bedroom balcony, Jake stood alone watching the sunset: a panorama of pink and orange, with a hint of gold stirred his soul with its beauty. Maybe it was the rich pallet of color or the warm breeze that sent his thoughts drifting back on the events of the day. In the space of merely a few hours, his life, unpredictable at the best of times, had spun off onto a course that he’d never have expected. Not only had Taya returned his son to him in person, but the arrival of Shannon and Damon was completely unforseen, as well. Looming like a storm cloud over all of it, however, the murders of the two Nightmare Manor employees and the possible danger to him and those he cared about.

  Absently, he swirled the watered-down whiskey in his hand. The whirlpool of amber caused the ice to clink against itself and the clear glass. Anton knew exactly how to mix the drink to warm its way down, rather than burn. And it left him feeling peaceful, rather than tipsy.

  Without warning, Foreigner’s power ballad “In Pieces” began playing in his mind. He wondered if his subconscious was trying to send him a message.

  Behind him, he heard the unmistakable sound of Anton clearing his throat. The butler waited until Jake turned to face him before speaking.

  “Miss Shannon and her son have been set up in the cottage, Master Jakob.”

  Jake reflexively bristled at the formality, and touch of disapproval, in Anton’s voice.

  “Thank you, Anton,” Jake said, taking a drink.

  “If there isn’t anything further, I’ll start making an updated shopping list, since it seems that we may have guests for an extended period.”

  Nodding his agreement, Jake said, “That’d be great,” as he turned away.

  He didn’t hear his bedroom door close, but took a deep cleansing breath anyway. His gaze drifted over to the quaint cottage nestled in the trees behind the sprawling main house. He couldn’t help but reflect on the turbulent history he shared with Shannon MacKenna. Though by no means a shut-in, he had lived a celibate lifestyle all the way into college. Once there, he met and fell in love with a young woman born on an island across the sea. She had lived in the USA for over ten years by then, and had taken great pains to lose as much of her accent as she could and sound as native to the US East Coast as possible. He’d found her remaining, lilting accent exhilarating and she had learned quickly that the easiest way to get his pulse pounding was to whisper in his ear, sounding like she’d just come to America. Their relationship took its natural course, culminating in a night of passion unlike any either of them had experienced in their life.

  In his pocket, Jake’s phone buzzed, interrupting his trip down Memory Lane and informing him of a new text message awaiting him. He set the drink on the railing and pulled out his phone, unlocking it to view the message.

  Just explained to NJ about T-C. He says he’s interested in investing in it. Wants to set up meeting with all involved.

  His eyebrows raised at the news and Jake keyed in a simple response: OK. Then he put the phone away.

  A rustling from behind him told Jake that Sunny had climbed into her basket at the foot of his bed. He turned to her and said, “Well, this is an intriguing development.” The Lab thumped her heavy tail in appreciative response.

  Nick James’ interest in participating in Terror-Copia lifted part of the project’s weight from his shoulders. And the reluctant planning commission will see it as a big advantage, too, he suspected. He made a mental note to invite Nick to the “Meet and Greet” next week, then turned and went inside, his drink forgotten on the balcony rail.

  Chapter 12

  “Thousands of Little Pinpricks”

  Lightning strikes outside the french doors, illuminating the dark bedroom. Shadows grow, then vanish in a stark-white instant. The booming thunder rattles the windows, fading away to a creeping wail echoing into nothingness. The storm outside feels alive, its inhabitants visible only in flickers and shadows. Rain pelts the thick glass, running in rivulets down the leaded glass.

  Taya lay in the engulfing four-poster-bed, layers of bedding and pillows gathered all around her. With every flash of light or peel of thunder, she tosses in her sleep.

  The heaviest, brightest clash of light and sound illuminate a behemoth standing outside the french doors.

  Taya screams and sits up in the bed, but the image has vanished with the light. Now fully awake, she looks around at the large bedroom, full of shadows, places for creatures of the night to hide.

  A scraping sound draws her attention to the bedroom door. She can barely see in the flicker of shadows what resemble the tips of eight claws, slowly tearing strips through the door from top to bottom.

  Quickly, she climbs from the bed and moves toward the closet. But, as she gets closer she sees that the door itself is flexing in and out and sweats blood in long crimson streaks.

  A scream dies in her throat as she realizes that her only path to safety is out the french doors... out into the torrent of wind, rain and bone-crushing thunder.

  The sound of shredding wood grows louder, causing her to edge toward the white lace curtains. Over the din she can hear heavy breathing beyond the torn up door. Whatever is out there sounds bigger than the doorway it’s trying to open. Through the shredded wood she can see the moonglow of the creature’s eyes as it pauses to peer into the room. She freezes, afraid that any movement will betray her location. It is futile, as a lightning flash behind her lights up her thin white nightgown, making it almost translucent.

  Mixed in with the heavy breathing, Taya can hear what sounds like an appreciative growl, which almost makes her stomach heave.

  Unable to take any more, the woman turns and faces the glass doors, but before she can open them, lightning tears the sky apart and thunder blasts the doors into thin lightning shards. She throws up her hands to protect her face and the razor-sharp glass shreds her gown and draws thousands of little pinpricks of blood.

  At last, Taya screams, but also manages to push through the gaping hole in the wall.

  The storm is relentless, even as she finds herself in a heavily wooded forest, twigs and branches pricking and pulling against her tattered, bloodied gown.

  Behind her, the growling creature is now smashing its way through the wood.

  As frenzy begins to build inside her, Taya tries harder to push through the trees faster, hoping to gain some distance on the demonic monster behind her. Yet, the harder she presses, the slower her pace and when she looks down, she can see why. Her feet have sunk into the soggy earth almost to her calves. Every step is a struggle to loosen her foot to take a step forward without losing her balance completely. She may-as-well have been running in quicksand.

  But still, she can’t give up. Her heart is filled with new resolve and she battles the cloying earth, her head down and concentrating. Five... six... on the seventh step, the lightning illuminates her way and she glances up.

  A shrill shriek burbles up from her throat.

  Before her, the creature
looms. More than man and less than a devil, all four of the demon’s arms are spread wide. Claws drip with red blood, even as they come crashing down on her.

  Taya tries to scream again as she tosses the bed covers, trying to untangle herself.

  Lightning flashes outside, partnered with a deafening roll of thunder.

  The light illuminates Natey, standing on the bed, straddling his mother’s waist. Her tossing around has had no effect on his balance, nor has it dislodged the three-foot rusty machete he has raised above his head.

  Taya throws her arms up even as the massive blade sweeps toward her...

  Gulping in great gasps of air, Taya sat bolt upright in her bed, her momentum nearly tossing her over the side.

  A storm raged outside her bedroom windows, but unlike the dream world, this lightning held no malice. No malevolent being waiting on the other side, watching her sleep.

  The certainty of being awake at last, Taya felt her pulse slow considerably. Beside her, she felt warmth and movement. She reached out with her hand and brushed Natey’s sweat-matted hair off his brow and shushed him gently. After a few moments, the little boy stopped twitching in his sleep. His breathing slowed and deepened a little, soothed by his mother’s touch.

  Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Taya lay back down in her bed, her eyes adjusting to the deepening darkness as the storm outside began abating. It took conscious effort, but with time she managed to sooth her own jangled nerves and slip into a dreamless sleep.

  Chapter 13

  “The Unholy”

  The Afterlife

  Joshua walked down the marble corridor leading to the Hall of Records. The thick carpet muffled his footfalls and the tapestries along each pale wall muted the echo effect that the tall, wide space would normally have. He hadn’t been here in a while and felt a pang of guilt at the fact that he hadn’t visited his friend Sayed in so long. As he turned and walked through the massive marble arch leading into the Hall, he made a mental note to invite Sayed and his wife over for dinner... soon.

  Before Joshua stretched the tallest, longest room he had ever seen. Though he knew a limited amount of the work that went into the daily running of the Afterlife, common sense told him that its infrastructure had to be nearly incomprehensible in scope. This room alone had caused his jaw to drop the first time he saw it. It still filled him with a sense of awe. Machines of a nature he’d never seen before lined the walls to the right and left, literally stretching into the distance beyond his sight and up high above. Lights pulsed and blinked on panels labeled with Heraldic script. White pulses of light zipped along the top of the banks, sometimes heading away from the front of the room, sometimes zipping back and disappearing into the computer array. He paused to watch as several Chronologist, each in a chair suspended from a white stanchion that stretched into the infinite clouds above, moved among the vast arrays, entering and moving data through the systems. In the center of the long hall ran a table filled with terminals of the same mysterious design. Hundreds of Chronologists could sit and enter data without filling every seat. A foot high wall ran the length of the table, splitting it in half. A trough of luminescent green liquid ran down each side of the table, constantly moving with a slight iridescence, as if made of reflective gelatine. Numerous men and women sat on each side of the table, their hands barely dipped into the gel, moving it slightly. As they did, each person intently watched the image suspended just above their hands.

  If he hadn’t forewarned Sayed of his intent to come today, Joshua would have had to search down the long data entry table until he found his friend.

  As it happened, Sayed stood at one of the data terminals off to Joshua’s left. Like most Chronologists, he was completely engrossed in the data he was entering into the unusual data processor. Not wanting to disturb him too much, Joshua approached him in silence.

  “Why is it that lately I only see you when you need something from me?” Sayed asked in his deep, resonating voice.

  Joshua opened his mouth to apologize, but hesitated when Sayed glanced over at him, a smirk on his lips.

  “Touché,” Joshua said. “How would you and Pauline like to come to my place for dinner sometime next week?”

  Now smiling, Sayed nodded and said, “Sounds great. I’ll ask her to get in touch with you and set it up. If I do it, I’ll forget for sure.” He turned to Joshua and they shook hands in greeting.

  “An absent-minded Chronologist? How does that work?” Joshua asked.

  Tapping the side of his head, Sayed said, “Data in, data out. Not much on long-term storage space.”

  Joshua laughed out loud and his voice echoed the length of the Hall of Records.

  “OK, so, here you are. How can I help you?”

  Joshua didn’t find his friend as imposing when he wasn’t in his chair, acting in the official capacity of Chronologist. But when he was, Sayed had no trouble commanding the attention and respect the Calling drew from everyone around him.

  “I was wondering if you knew anything about a second Eternity War?” Joshua said, cutting to the point.

  A few of the nearest Chronologists looked up at the two men.

  Sayed nodded as he paused to think it over. Then he turned back to the terminal he’d been working on.

  “As I said, data in, data out.”

  Joshua watched closely when Sayed placed his hand flat against the small pool of luminescent fluid. After a moment, small tendrils of the liquid crawled up his fingertips and his thumbs, until only the center back of both hands remained exposed. It gave Joshua the mental image of playing in sticky, sparkly green syrup.

  As Sayed moved his fingers, the translucent image of two vertical intertwined helixes made of small data particles began to rotate before him. They rotated left, then paused and rotated right as he moved his hands. He peered at the data, able to read it in a way that Joshua couldn’t. Finally, he reached up to the data helixes with one hand, the green fluid sloughing away. He touched an area midway up one of the spirals of data, which caused both helixes to dissolve back into the fluid. Only the area he touched remained and expanded out to be a paragraph of text suspended in the air in front of him. Pointing to a particular line, he said, “Right there, the original reference to a second Eternity War.”

  Joshua looked over Sayed’s shoulder to the words before them, but they still looked like squiggles to him... the way they always did.

  “Um, can you dumb it down for those of us who don’t read Heraldic?”

  “Oh, sure.” A few touches to the helix of data and the squiggles turned into words both men could read.

  After perusing the text, Joshua said, “This says nothing ever came from the threat. How long ago was this?”

  “Looks like it was archived right before the creation of Eden.”

  Eyebrows raised, Joshua said, “You mean the Earth? That was quite a while back. Anything more recent?”

  More twisting of the data strand and a minute later Sayed had a handful of references listed before them.

  “It seems that there’ve been a number of recent mentions of a second Eternity War. A couple of them very recent. This latest one even talks a little bit about the reason behind it. Gotta love rogues. They love to gloat.”

  “What does it say their reasoning is?” Joshua asked.

  “Well, the short version is that the Realm has filled to bursting from the sheer numbers of souls banished there. They want more space and they’re willing to fight to get it,” Sayed summarized.

  Joshua shook his head and looked away as he thought out loud, “Expand the Realm of Lost Souls? Is that even possible?”

  “Well, the Realm was created millennia ago as a place for the worst of the unrepentant to reside for eternity. With unlimited worlds full of humanity, it only makes sense that someday the Realm would fill up, sadly. Paradise is limitless, bu
t the Realm has specific boundaries, patrolled by Battle Angels and Cherubim, which is why most of the rogue activity you deal with comes from the Abyss. It’s exceptionally difficult for a soul to escape from the Realm, but sometimes it can happen. They have to be summoned by someone from Mortality.”

  “If their second war is successful, where is the Realm trying to expand into? What’s closest to its current boundaries?” Joshua asked.

  “That’s easy: Eden,” Sayed said without needing to check his data. “That’s why it gets so much rogue activity and why the planet has such strong energy. If the Realm of Lost Souls is successful in their expansion, Eden will be lost, along with everyone living there.”

  Joshua glanced over at Sayed, his eyes full of concern.

  “Well, that’s not good.”

  With a nod of agreement, Sayed said, “I’ll run this up the line, to make sure it gets seen by those that have a say in things. I appreciate you bringing it to my attention. Taken individually, the references are little more than last-minute bragging, but as a whole, they paint a much darker picture.”

  “Agreed,” Joshua said. “I’ll ask around, as well.”

  Sayed paused for a few moments to review the text, then glanced up into the misty heights above them.

  Joshua almost reached out to nudge his friend back to the present, but before he could Sayed shifted his face to him. “Come with me. There’s something I think you should see.”

  Without waiting for a response, the Chronologist turned and headed down the long length of data terminals.

  Joshua found he either had to follow or be left behind... and this wasn’t something he wanted to miss.

  “Where are we headed?” he asked, catching up to his friend.

  He recognized Sayed’s expression as calculating when they took a sharp left and walked through an archway into a hall that hadn’t been there a moment before.

  “You’ve heard of the Unholy Reliquary?” Sayed asked.

  Astonished, Joshua said, “Yes, but I’ve never seen it.”