With the tape still strangling his wrists, Billy could do little to improve his situation. The trunk was too dark for him to hunt for a latch, and so far he hadn’t found anything sharp. He could feel a couple of gasoline containers at his feet, and his nose told him that another one sat near his head.
He needed a plan. He couldn’t yell. Palin might be standing right there. For all Billy knew, Palin could pop open the trunk from well beyond the range of Billy’s fiery breath and shoot him just for having the gag off.
Billy didn’t stand a chance.
Merlin’s book was right. I shouldn’t have turned that page. It’s all my fault.
Although he had read the gloomy oracle only once, some of the words came back to him, defying the limits of normal memory.
Cruel yokes and whips designed for slaves
No, not for heirs nor sons by birth
They tear the backs of stiff-necked knaves
Who think their power comes from earth
Yet hope remains, dispelling fears
A faithful heart, entrapped, alone
Who prays for thee unceasing tears
And casts appeals before his throne
If hope really did remain, Billy didn’t see it, and if anyone was praying for him, no one seemed to be listening.
“Who’s in the trunk?”
A voice! It sounded like a young woman, trembling and kind of squeaky. Should I answer? If she doesn’t know who’s in here, she must not be with Palin.
“It’s Billy Bannister!” he yelled. “Some goon stuffed me in here! Please, help me get out!”
“Hold on!”
Billy heard the faint sound of shuffling steps and a muffled click. The voice returned, this time sounding much younger. “The door’s locked!”
Billy yelled back. “Did you try all the doors?”
“They’re all locked.”
Billy wrestled again with the tape. So close, yet so far! Some girl must have wandered by and heard him struggling. Now she was in danger too. “You’d better get out of sight. The guy who kidnapped me will probably be back soon.”
“Not a chance. I saw where he went. It’ll be a while.”
“Can you call the police?”
“No. But I do have an idea.”
Billy let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay. Let’s hear it.”
“This is a Grand Marquis. It oughta have a trunk release on the inside. It’s a T-shaped handle that glows in the dark, and it should be dangling from a pull wire near the lock.”
Billy glanced around the dark trunk. “No. There’s nothing glowing. I would’ve seen that by now.”
“Then he might have cut it off to hide it. If he did, the bare wire might still be sticking out near the latch. If you can get hold of it, the trunk should pop open easily.”
“Easily . . . yeah, right. My hands are tied behind my back.”
“How about your feet? Can you maybe get it between your feet and yank on it?”
“I don’t think so. I’ll try to arch my back up there. My fingers are kind of numb, but maybe I can find it.”
Billy twisted his body and pushed his backside toward the trunk latch, bracing his feet against the floor. His fingers were like icicles, and he could barely feel anything he touched. As he worked, he heard the girl’s voice again.
“By the way, my name’s Karen.”
Billy grunted. “Pleased . . . to meet you.”
“If that guy comes back, I’ll tap the trunk and—”
“I think I got it!” Billy squeezed the wire between his frozen fingers and pulled. He heard a click, and the lid flew open, filling the trunk with daylight and falling snow. Billy sat up on the frame with his back to Karen. “Can you get me loose?”
Karen stripped off her gloves and started tearing away the wide strips of duct tape around Billy’s wrists, stuffing the pieces into her coat pocket. “It’s all twisted up,” she said, “but it’s coming off.” She glanced over her shoulder at the mountainside a couple of times but kept working. “He must have really worked you over. Your lips look like they lost a fight with an orbital sander.”
“Yeah. The gag just about tore them off.”
“And your neck! Did you cut yourself shaving with a buzz saw?”
“Never mind! Just get me loose before he comes back to finish me off!”
At last the final band of gray tape gave way. Billy yanked the gag down from his chin to his neck and climbed slowly out of the trunk. With his muscles cramping like knotted steel, he staggered and gripped his left calf. He glanced up at the perky redhead’s beaming face. “Can you help me walk? We have to get out of sight before Palin comes back.”
Karen closed the trunk and pushed her shoulder under his arm. “You bet.” She led the way toward a boulder next to a clearing, following a line of footprints in the tire tracks. When they reached the other side of the boulder, Billy was surprised to find three bundled girls, all younger than Karen, hiding there. He pulled off his coat and began rubbing his arms and legs.
The oldest of the three girls gave him a big smile, glancing over at Karen. “Who’s your friend?”
Karen leaned over to pick up Billy’s coat and grinned. “His name’s Billy, uh, Bannister, I think he said.”
Billy stopped rubbing his limbs and gave them all a nod of greeting, ending with Karen. “You got it right. I’m Billy Bannister. You said your name’s Karen, right?”
Karen handed him back his coat. “Right, but you can call me Red if you want to.” She pointed to the others in turn. “And that’s Stacey, Rebecca, and Monique.”
Billy lowered his head for a moment, still wincing, and tried to smile with his cracked lips. “The weather’s pretty bad for playing outside. What are you doing out here?”
“Actually, we’re just hiding right now. We’re—”
Karen jerked her head around. “He’s back!”
Billy signaled for the girls to crouch behind the boulder, and he sneaked to the edge of their refuge to watch the returning kidnapper. Palin stepped from the passageway carrying a shield in his left arm and the pistol in his right hand.
Karen leaned over Billy’s shoulder, her lips next to his ear, and whispered, “What do you think he’ll do when he finds out you’re gone?”
Billy kept his eyes focused straight ahead. He felt Karen’s warm breath and grew uneasy about her closeness. With Palin in sight, that murderous demon who had nearly killed him once before, Billy knew what he wanted to do: fry the creep. Rage boiled inside, and he felt a good fire brewing in his belly, but with Karen literally breathing down his neck, he hesitated. Was he ashamed of what he wanted to do or just nervous about the girls seeing it? He shook the turmoil away. Palin tried to kill me, and he’d kill Bonnie, too, if he had the chance!
Like the warmth of Karen’s breath, the professor’s words blew across his mind. “A knight opposes his enemy face-to-face. A stab in the back is the way of the coward. If you must fight, attack your enemy head-on. That is the way of valor.”
But he’s a slayer! It’s okay to fry a creep like him. It’s not cowardly!
The professor’s words responded like an echoing call. Considering the words of this prophecy, we can assume that God has ordained that we carry out no surprise attacks. Do you understand?
Billy understood . . . but he didn’t care. Palin had sliced his throat, beat up his mom and Walter, and tossed him into a trunk like a bag of dirty laundry. Palin had tried to kill him and Bonnie once before; he was sure to try again. It was time to light this torch and let it blaze.
He waved his hand at Karen. “You might not want to watch. This won’t be pretty.” She stepped back but stayed close.
Palin extended his left hand with the remote control device between his thumb and forefinger, and the lid jumped open a crack. He swung the shield in front of him, reached with his foot, and kicked the lid up the rest of the way.
Billy didn’t wait another second. Thrusting with his whole body, he launched a stream of fi
re. The river of flames roared from his mouth and landed in the trunk, engulfing the interior in a tidal wave of raging heat and consuming the plastic gasoline containers.
The fuel ignited, erupting in a tremendous ball of yellow and orange, and flames billowed into the sky. As the car’s frame ripped apart, the flames blew over Palin like a wall of white-hot fury, knocking him flat. His shield kept his face and chest from taking the brunt of the onslaught, but the blaze covered his legs and gun arm, eating his limbs like a ravenous lion.
Within seconds, the fire died down, and Palin lay on his back with his shield still on his chest. Billy jumped out from hiding and ran to him, sliding to his knees. He grabbed the gun and then threw armfuls of snow onto the smoldering lower body.
Palin threw off the shield, ripping away his scorched sleeve. Billy jumped to his feet and aimed the gun at the wounded man’s head, his own legs trembling in pain. His mouth, once again torched by an unusually hot stream, felt like a nest of scorpions.
Palin propped himself up on his elbows and glared at Billy. With his body devastated, Billy knew that the wounded man couldn’t hope to fight.
The dark knight tried to speak, but his voice cracked, and the words rasped like sandpaper on rough wood. Keeping the gun trained on Palin, Billy leaned over to listen.
Palin’s eyes pierced Billy’s with cold malice, and his coarse voice spewed mocking venom. “You think you’re a hero now, don’t you, boy? You’re no hero, oh no, not a hero. You’re just like me, boy, just like me. Does a hero kill a man whose back is turned? Couldn’t fight me face-to-face, could you? I tried to kill you when you were wounded back on the mountain, and now you cook me like a goose when my back’s turned. Yes, boy, you’re just like me. You kill to get what you want.”
Palin coughed. He tried to continue, but his voice trailed away. He slumped back, and his body shuddered.
Billy drew closer, still wary of Palin’s devices. The dying man clenched his fist and spat out his final pain-streaked words. “My master will live on. He’s a true believer, not a hypocrite like you or me. He endured Arthur; he survived Napoleon and Hitler; he will outlive you, too.” The creaking voice faded away, as did the life of Devin’s evil minion.
Billy laid the dead man’s hand gently on his wet, blackened chest. His enemy was gone, yet he felt no joy, no joy at all. His belly gurgled and sent burning fluid into his throat. What have I done? The professor warned me, but I didn’t listen! His tears flowed, dripping down his nose and falling onto the snow-swept ground.
Billy chided himself, mentally buffeting his body. How could he weep over this brutal man, this hate-filled maniac? Was it the words he had spoken? Did his speech stab him like poisoned darts, accusing him of the same heinous crimes that dressed this foul creature in his cruel raiment of blood? It couldn’t be! There hadn’t been any other way, had there?
Billy slowly straightened his body and gazed for a moment at the blackened shell of a car. Leaning over, he dragged Palin’s corpse toward the boulder but stopped short, not wanting the girls to see the grotesque, half-melted body. He shoved a pile of snow together to conceal Palin and then hurried around the hiding place.
The girls were gone! He spotted them far away, running across a field and into a line of skinny, naked trees. “Wait!” Billy’s voice died in the blanket of falling snow. He ran after them, his cramped legs still complaining about their ordeal in the trunk. He knew he would eventually catch them. The youngest girl couldn’t possibly outrun him in the snow, and even if Karen helped her, they couldn’t stay ahead for very long.
After an exhausting chase, he finally came within a few feet of them. “Wait! Why are you running?”
“Stay away!” Karen screamed, running at the rear of the group with Monique in her arms. But as she yelled, she tripped and tumbled headfirst into a snowdrift. Monique flew from her arms and joined her in the powdery drift.
Billy dashed ahead and scooped Monique up in his arms. She gasped and stared straight into Billy’s eyes. Rather than trying to escape, she kept staring, her large brown eyes reflecting Billy’s war-torn face.
Karen pushed up on all fours. “Don’t hurt Pebbles, you . . . you monster!” The other two girls had scurried behind a tree and peered out from either side.
Billy wanted to laugh at their antics, but his mental image of Palin’s grotesque body kept his spirits low. He set Monique down gently. “I’m not a monster,” he said, holding out his arms in peace. “If you’ll give me a minute, I’ll explain.”
Karen stood up and brushed the snow from her coat and pants. Monique ran to her side, lifting up her arms. Karen motioned for Monique to stay put, and the little girl latched onto her leg. The other two girls crept out from behind their tree and crowded behind Karen.
With snow cascading in thick torrents all around, she crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Okay, let’s hear it,” she said, her expression mixing fear with skepticism. “This oughta be good.”
When Bonnie finished a long session of prayer and singing, she settled down to gaze into the darkness. With her improving vision she was able to see a collection of shadowy walls bending into myriad corridors and corners, like black halls in a blacker house. Every now and then, she thought she caught a faint glimmer of light, perhaps some other being watching, maybe hiding in a faraway recess.
She doubted it was Devin. He tended to come out boldly rather than hide around corners. Could it be that phantom, that strange picket fence of light that first kept her out of the slayer’s clutches? Bonnie had told Ashley that she wouldn’t be alone in the candlestone, so why couldn’t God’s spirit show up in a spectacular way like he did in the fiery furnace with Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego?
But that glimmer of light could be something else. Maybe, just maybe, her mother really was in there somewhere. Whom should she believe?
Bonnie bit her bottom lip. Ashley thought Mama was in the candlestone. Could she be held prisoner somehow, trapped by the slayer in one of those dark corridors? Could she have fallen into that crack, drifting now in that sad sea of souls?
There’s the glimmer again!
Bonnie moved toward it, and it disappeared, but this time she kept going, trying to follow a faint trail of luminescence. As she turned a corner, she noticed a bright gleam from around the next angle. She stopped and called out. “Who’s there?”
A bright radiance flashed into Bonnie’s hallway, but she couldn’t see its source. A voice, a slow, sad voice replied. “It is a friend. Draw no closer, child.”
Bonnie had no idea what to think about this new presence. Its voice was nothing like Devin’s; it was soft, and smooth. “Are you who I think you are?” she asked. “Are you . . . Him?”
A gentle laugh echoed in the darkness. “Only one who knows your thoughts would be able to answer that question, so I must not be who you think I am. As I said, I am a friend. That is all you need know about me. But I know who you are, Bonnie Silver, and I have watched you for a long time. You have an enemy here, and he can harm you, yes, kill you, should you let down your shield.”
“My shield?”
“Yes, lass. And a strong one it is. It nearly withered away, but you built it up again. Despair is the way of destruction. It will consume your light like a raging cancer and cast you into eternal shadows.”
Bonnie caught a new glimpse of her own light. It had changed quite a bit. Her human shape was now forming, arms and legs, even a hint of fingers at the end of her flowing robe, and her glow did seem pretty bright, but she didn’t want to dwell on that; she had to ask her most burning question. “Do you know my mother? Is she here?”
It seemed that she felt a sigh, an old, tired sigh, emanating from her mysterious friend. “Quite a number have entered this prison, but Irene has not passed by my eyes.”
Bonnie’s light dimmed, and the edges turned ragged. Her mother wasn’t here after all? But the strange being did seem to know something. “You called her Irene. So you do know her?”
?
??I know her well, perhaps better than you do.”
“But how is that possible? If you’re in here, and she’s never entered, how can you know her?”
“Although I knew Irene long before I entered this stone, I have seen her since that time. It took many years, but I have learned to see beyond these walls. We do not have vision, so to speak; our minds adapt to other input. If you stay long enough, you will learn. Your shape will naturally conform in appearance to that of your earthly body as your agitation at being transluminated diminishes. You can even learn to change your shape at will. Your enemy has learned. That is why he has an advantage over you.”
“But why won’t you let me see you? Why won’t you tell me who you are?”
“Because viewing me will lower your shield. When faith is made sight, it is no longer faith. We may lower our shields when the danger has passed, but the danger is ever lurking. I perceive even now that your defenses are lowering, so I must leave you.”
Bonnie felt an evil presence, the eerie sense of a ghostly sentinel watching her, stalking her. As the light from the other hall faded, she heard its final words.
“Sing, child! Sing! For psalms and hymns are your leather and mail.”
Bonnie shuddered and immediately lifted her voice.
If I say, Surely the darkness shall cover me;
even the night shall be light about me.
Yea, the darkness hideth not from thee;
but the night shineth as the day:
The darkness and the light are both alike to thee.
The eerie feeling, like tickling hairs on a cold neck, slowly faded away. The light of her friend also disappeared, slipping away into an imperceptible hall.
Billy finished his story and waited for Karen to react. She kept her arms crossed, and a hint of a grin peeked through her lips. “So, I’m supposed to believe that you’re a dragon? Human and dragon in one body?”