Sins of the Father Page 18

  I arrived at the opening to the underground river with my arms scraped and my back on fire. I couldn’t pause to rest, though. Every minute wasted meant less of a chance to revive Flora. I could not – would not – fail her again. I had to make haste, knowing it might take hours, perhaps all day and night, to locate the beast and extract what I needed.

  That, of course, led to unwanted thoughts about what I’d find in my father’s lair. I had no assurance the creature was dead; entering those unexplored waters might very well lead to me being consumed rather than bringing Flora back to life.

  Try as I might, I couldn’t push away my fears while I followed the path along the river, once again using the cavern wall as a guide. Without lights there was no way of knowing what lurked around me. For all I knew there might be a ravenous tentacle hovering inches from my neck, or a bloodthirsty corpse reaching for me. I tried my best to listen for any sounds, but all I heard were the whispered gurglings of the river and my own labored breathing.

  Just like my last time in that awful place, time lost all meaning. I shuffled forward, wary of obstacles or attack. Despite how long I’d been without light, my eyes remained useless to me.

  At one point, my foot struck a large rock, wide enough to force me to go around it. Up until then, I’d encountered only smaller stones. I took the change in terrain to mean I’d gotten close to the main cavern, where the blasts had collapsed walls and ceiling.

  Then I paused as a sudden thought sent icy fingers down my back.

  I hadn’t stumbled over a single body.

  During our fight, we’d put down dozens of reanimated corpses. And lost several of our own men in the process. When we’d left, racing for our lives to escape before the bombs detonated, the trail had been littered with bodies.

  Where were they?

  Only one explanation. Something had survived. Most likely the beast. And I was walking straight into its parlor.

  You have to keep going. Indeed, I had no choice. Not even imminent death could stop me. Flora’s life depended on me, and this time I wouldn’t let her down. Either we both lived or we both died.

  I started forward again and soon the trail became crowded with not just stones but boulders. Moving around and between them confused my sense of direction even further and I worried I’d walk right off the edge and into the river. My foot struck something and I heard the clink of metal on stone. A metal tube. One of the electric torches the police had carried. I set Flora down, my shoulders crying in relief as their burden eased, and picked up the torch.

  I nearly cried out with joy when I pressed the switch and a steady beam of light came on. Dim and yellow, but more than adequate for my needs. I moved Flora to the base of a massive boulder and worked my way toward the riverbank.

  Now I could see the damage we’d wrought. A few dozen yards from where I stood, the entire cavern had collapsed, blocking the way completely and creating a dam of sorts in the river, which had backed up and widened. I conjectured that some sort of flow still remained through gaps in the stones because the waters had only risen a dozen feet or so, not all the way to the cliff’s edge.

  I cast the light across the surface. Somewhere below waited the monster from beyond the stars. Dead? Injured? Or just biding its time? My life, my very soul, depended on it not being the latter.

  My heart beat wildly within my chest at the thought of entering those stygian depths. I would be blind and defenseless, without even gun or flame to protect me. Descending through the frigid waters, while that great eye watched me approaching, its tentacles poised to strike….

  A movement caught my attention and I aimed the torch at it. Ripples on the surface, something moving…a dark shape broke the plane, curved. Then another. Gliding toward the shoreline.

  Toward me.

  I stepped back several feet, keeping the light trained on it. My hand shook as if stricken with palsy. The sinuous form grew longer, a miniature sea serpent slipping through the water. It rose like a cobra from a fakir’s basket, higher, higher, right to the edge, revealing itself as one of the mother-beast’s loathsome tentacles.

  It lived!

  I backed farther away, remembering how the creature had plucked away Flannery’s men as easy as a child picking berries.

  And how the dead had been missing from the path.

  Now I saw how, as the rubbery limb swept back and forth, seeking prey. With each arc, it extended more of itself onto land.

  Watching it, I took in certain details. The movements weren’t as graceful as the other times I’d seen those limbs. And the flesh itself seemed different. Mottled instead of pure black.

  The limb bumped past me again and I dared to bring the light closer. This time I saw the truth: ragged holes and sloughing skin that oozed dark fluids. The wounds ran the whole length of it.

  Injured! We’d damaged the foul creature after all. Weakened it, for sure. But how much? Enough for me to get the sample I needed before it crushed the life from me?

  I shuffled to the side, purposely scuffing my feet on the ground. I remembered my other encounters, how those appendages would rise in snakelike fashion, revealing miniature eyes at their tips and hungry mouths down their lengths.

  Nothing happened.

  It continued to sweep the ground in the same pattern. Emboldened, I picked up a large stone and threw it a few feet to my left. This time the minor vibrations drew a reaction. The limb lifted up, exposing a gaping hole where the eye should have been.

  Blind! The mouths still remained, teeth gnashing together in ravenous desperation, but although the tip moved to and fro, it never noticed me or my light.

  This would be my best opportunity. I’d brought a scalpel among the other supplies I’d taken and now I withdrew it from its case. I placed the light on the ground and inched forward, timing my own movements to those of the beast. I’d only have one chance. I had to gauge it perfectly.

  I waited until the tip slid by less than a foot away and then I lunged for it, grasping the vile flesh just below one of the mouth-suckers. A coating of slime and fluids made it almost impossible to hold onto. The limb twisted and coiled like a giant python wrapping around a helpless deer. I clung to it with one arm and my legs while with my other hand I slashed at the rubbery flesh. Even injured it possessed incredible strength. It began dragging me toward the river and I tightened my grip. The circular mouths gnawed at my clothing and I knew I only had seconds before they reached my skin.

  A tremendous splashing commenced in the water, warning me of the beast’s rising. Soon I’d either be drawn into that gigantic maw or I’d be drowned.

  With a strength born of desperation, I stabbed the blade deep into the alien tissue and began to saw at it. A shudder ran through the limb. Ichor poured down my arm as I increased my attack on the stubborn flesh. The tentacle lifted into the air, taking me with it. Once more I found myself clinging in monkey-like fashion. Higher and higher it rose and a terrible image came to me, a giant hand swatting an insect, only I was the insect.

  I tore at the ragged wound with nails and blade, clawing and cutting with reckless abandon, unmindful of losing a finger in my haste to complete my task.

  And then it came free! The tip fell away, a good two feet of it, trailing vile liquids that drenched my clothing in putrid stench. The tentacle shuddered again and relaxed its hold on me. I let go and plunged to the ground, landing hard on my back.

  A muffled roar shook the earth. I felt the beast’s cry of pain in my very bowels. The tentacle slammed down inches from my legs and only providence saved me as it slid away in the other direction instead of pushing me into the river, where a massive turbulence sent waves crashing against the shore and splashed ice-cold water over me.

  I grabbed the still-twitching length of flesh and made a hasty escape, hunched over, sure that at any moment I’d be plucked like a grape or flattened into a bloody pulp. But
my luck held and I made it back to the rocks where I’d left Flora, the glow of my torch a beacon guiding me to safe harbor.

  Terror, cold, and insane hope combined to rack my body with tremors. Despite my distance from the water I imagined the creature’s deadly appendages creeping toward me, leaving me with only minutes to complete my task. The first time I tried to insert the needle into the stolen flesh it glanced off the thick rubbery skin and stabbed my hand. The glass syringe slipped from my fingers and I made a desperate grab for it, catching it just before it broke against a rock.

  Forcing myself to take several deep breaths in an effort to calm my trembling hands left me with a mild case of vertigo and I had to lean back against the boulder before it passed. Either the cool stone against my neck or the extra oxygen in my lungs accomplished what I needed, because when I lifted the needle again I was able to plunge it accurately into one of the grotesque vessels within the fetid-smelling stump. A sense of loathing overcame me as I watched dark ichor flow into the syringe, and only the knowledge that those otherworldly fluids held the power to grant life allowed me to finish my task without throwing limb and syringe into the river.

  I had no idea how much of the thing’s blood I needed, so I filled the cylinder. Then came the hardest part.

  Injecting that gory essence into the woman I loved.

  I lifted Flora’s pale arm and placed the tip of the needle against her bruised skin. I was about to press down on the plunger when the tenets of basic anatomy came to me and I cursed my own stupidity.

  Flora was dead. A corpse. Which meant her heart no longer beat and blood no longer flowed through her arteries. Injecting the alien plasma into her arm would do nothing.

  So where, then?

  My father’s tale had said nothing about where the mother-beast had pierced him, nor where he’d accomplished the same foul deed on the corpses he’d revived.

  Think, Henry! Every second I hesitated meant less of a chance of returning Flora to life. I tried to consider the possibilities from a scientific point of view. Abdomen, lungs, heart—

  Yes! The heart. The source of life within any body.

  Before indecision hindered me again, I tore her blouse open and stabbed the needle between two ribs, left of center between her breasts. Mumbling a quick prayer, I depressed the plunger with my thumb and emptied the black liquid into her heart.

  I tossed the empty needle aside and covered her up as best I could. How long would I need to wait? According to my father, his return had taken months. But the corpses he revived came back to life in three days or less.

  “As long as it takes, I will wait for you,” I whispered. And if she didn’t wake, then Flannery or the space-beast could do with me as they wished. Without Flora, nothing mattered.

  Exhausted, I closed my eyes and began my vigil.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I came awake with a gasp.

  There was no sense of confusion. I knew immediately where I was, in that accursed cavern. Cold, aching muscles groaned in protest and rough stone scraped my back as I stood and looked around. Something had roused me from my unexpected slumber. The shuffle of alien flesh creeping up? The footsteps of the law coming to place me in custody? I snatched the light from the ground and swung it back and forth. Peered behind my shelter of rocks.

  Nothing.

  Unconvinced of my safety, I circled the area, aiming my light in all directions, gun clutched in my other hand. My heart drummed madly against my ribs and clammy sweat broke out on my brow. Only when I’d assured myself that no other tracks but mine marred the earth did I return to Flora’s motionless body.

  Only a dream, I thought, kneeling down beside her. And now the awful reality.

  Flora was still dead.

  I lifted her cold hand and pressed it against my cheek. Failure gnawed at me worse than any demon’s bite. Logic told me it hadn’t even been a day, I might have to wait much longer, but my heart whispered a different story, that I was only fooling myself. There’d be no revival for my Flora; she’d either been dead too long for the creature’s supernatural blood to work or it required something other than blood, some mixture of fluids I’d gotten wrong.

  My tears ran in cold streams down my face as my sorrow finally burst free. I wept like a baby, on my knees in that underground tomb, my lover’s lifeless flesh held in my own. All my dreams, my reasons to live, were no more. I’d risked everything to save her, to save the damned town, and for what?

  The only person I’d ever loved was lost to me forever. I’d sacrificed everything, and for naught. Gone were my friends – Scott to my father’s evil spawn, Ben to my own selfish plans. I had no career to speak of. In fact, all I had to look forward to were years of examining corpses that no one gave two tinker’s damns about.

  In other words, I had nothing.

  I laid Flora’s hand on her chest, folded her other over it. I could still do one thing right. I’d make sure she had the best possible burial. Even if it took every last penny I had. The finest gravestone money could buy. And then I’d return to the drudgery of my banal existence until it finally grew to be too much and I threw myself into the river.

  Or perhaps not.

  No doubt Ben had the police looking for me at that very moment. I’d stolen a corpse, and no amount of recent goodwill from the police would keep them from taking me in. If I was lucky, they might blame my crime on overwhelming grief and lock me away in Arkham. What irony that would be, following my father full circle after all.

  Or perhaps I’d simply die in jail, a fitting end to a wretched life.

  Still, I had to return her. She deserved a proper burial. I owed her that much. After all, it was because of me and my foolish actions that she’d died.

  Guilt brought fresh tears and I squeezed my eyes shut against them. All of this was just delaying the inevitable; I needed to bite the bullet and carry Flora to the surface, even if it meant closing the door on the few things that had ever been good in my life. It was time to think of her first, not myself, for once. To—

  A low moan whispered through the cavern.

  The creature had returned!

  My eyes sprang open and I glanced wildly about.

  No demons approached.

  I wondered if the sound had escaped my own throat and then I heard it again. This time I discerned that it came from nearby. Below me.

  Flora!

  I fell to my knees and shone the light on her face. Was that a flutter of her eyelids or a trick of the light? I gripped the torch with both hands to steady it.

  Her eyes opened and closed. Again. Her lower lip twitched. One hand slid off her chest.

  She was alive!

  I dropped the light and patted her cheeks. Her flesh still held the chill of death. I took off my coat and placed it over her.

  “Flora.” I rubbed her arms and shoulders to get her circulation flowing. “Can you hear me? It’s Henry. I’m here.”

  Another moan, accompanied by her head rolling side to side. Her eyes opened again and this time stayed that way. I grabbed her face and held it still.

  “Flora! It’s me. Say something.”

  Her lips moved. I bent closer, caught the barest of whispers.

  “Henry? What…?”

  The tickle of her breath against my ear faded. Her eyes closed and her body stopped moving.

  But she still breathed, stronger now. I slid my arms under her and stood. Dormant aches and pains in my back and ribs woke at their renewed mistreatment. I ignored the discomfort and lurched toward the tunnel, the light tucked under one arm. Everything else I left behind. I had no need for it anymore.

  All I desired was in my hands.

  The return to the sewer entrance took an eternity, with me moving slowly so as not to bump Flora against the stone walls. My injuries made every step a battle, my muscles trembling and my nerves afire.


  “Keep moving. Can’t stop.” I kept repeating the words to myself, urging my legs to shuffle forward. In between, I spoke to Flora, in case she could hear me despite her somnolent state.

  “It will be all right. We’re going home. I’ll take care of you.”

  We staggered on, me reeling and swaying like a drunkard returning home in the wee hours of the morning. Spiderwebs clung to my face and hair and showers of dirt rained down on us. With no way to brush them aside I simply kept moving, straining to see as the electric light faded to a dull yellow and detritus clouded my vision.

  When we finally reached the ladder, a new obstacle presented itself. How to get Flora to the surface? I tried once more to wake her, thinking that if she could rouse herself enough to at least stand I could push her up. But she merely moaned and shivered. In the end, I slung her over one shoulder like a sack of flour.

  Climbing the ladder that way sapped the last of my dwindling strength and when we reached the surface it was all I could do not to collapse next to her prone form. Only my dogged insistence on getting her to a place of safety kept me on my feet.

  In my state of exhaustion it took me a moment to realize night had fallen. After so many hours in the dark the muted light of the fog-obscured streetlamps seemed bright as day. No police waited for us, a bit of luck that I gave quick thanks for. Still, even at night I couldn’t hope to carry Flora all the way to my home without being seen. Or losing consciousness.

  That was when providence came to my rescue.

  The clatter of hooves on cobblestones caught my attention and I turned, half expecting to find a paddy wagon approaching.

  Instead, I beheld the wondrous sight of Fudge ambling toward me, cart in tow. For all the hours I’d been gone, she’d remained where I’d left her, ignored by police and thieves alike.

  “Good old Fudge,” I said, stroking her muzzle. Her loyalty brought unexpected tears to my eyes. How fitting that an aged, pigheaded horse would end up my only true friend.