1 The Bank of the River (14 page)

“Why not?”
Steven said. They took the roast to the bathtub. Roy unwrapped it, and dropped
it in.

“You hold
the flares,” Roy said. “I’ll light it with the blowtorch. Once they’re all
going, use the handle to press it down into the water and into the roast.”

Roy snapped
the blowtorch to life and Steven held it over the tub, pointed away from both
of them. Once all twelve were lit, it was extremely bright and Steven had to
squint to see what he was doing. The heat coming from it and the vibration
caused by the group of burning flares made him feel like he was carrying a
lethal weapon. He sank it into the water, and immediately the water began to
erupt around him in response. He kept pressing it downward until he felt it hit
the roast. Then he held it there.

Steven and
Roy looked at each other.

“This will
work,” Roy told him. “I’m sure.”

“How long do
I hold it here?” Steven asked.

“Until they
burn out,” Roy replied. “When we’re doing this for real, each of us will have
two of them, one in each hand, and we’ll be pressing them all down into Lukas’s
body. We want every bit of these flares to burn up as much of the body as
possible. We don’t stop until there’s no body left, or until the flares give
out.”

The aroma
bubbling up from the bottom of the tub was appetizing, not unlike the smell of
a roast cooking on the stove.

“Making me
hungry!” Roy said.

The process
took a while. “Isn’t he going to fight back while we’re doing this?” Steven
asked Roy.

“I don’t
think so,” Roy replied. “His body is still inert. It’s his mind that’s active.”

“Fight us
with his mind, then.”

“Maybe.
That’s why we’ll dose up on protection before we go.”

Steven
thought about this, unsure he wanted to drink Roy’s concoction. Still, it made
sense to take every precaution. Steven felt himself giving in to Roy. Roy was
winning him over.

The first of
the flares exhausted themselves after ten minutes and after another couple of minutes
the last finished. They pulled the flares from the tub and looked in for the
roast. There were only bits of charred meat floating around in the water, mixed
with the material from the flares.

“That’s good
enough for me,” Roy said. “How about you?”

“Let’s
finish the rest of them,” Steven said.

Steven let
Roy sleep as they drove back to the cabin. Roy had grabbed a few hours of sleep
after they finished creating the weapons, and Steven had used the time to read
through the book. He found a few parts that made sense to him. The words seemed
out of order, but he could rearrange them in his mind and construct a meaning. Still,
much of the book seemed impenetrable, nonsensical. He took Roy’s word that
those sections were areas he had no experience with. That was most of the book.

Of the parts
he could read, he found them highly intriguing. Invitations, he learned, could
be used for all kinds of purposes, usually to the advantage of the initiator,
but not always. In the older section of the book he found several sections that
spoke of transformation and metamorphosis, ways to transform and ways to stop
it. There were also some sections that spoke generally about the river, how to
enter and exit it with less pain, and how to maneuver within it. He found
several areas that spoke of protection, but they were still jumbled to him. He
made a note to come back and read about them after he downed Roy’s potion and
see if they cleared up.

The more he
read, the more intrigued he became. He felt himself falling into something that
he knew even a week ago he would have resisted with all his heart as ridiculous
and superstitious. The connection to his father and his father’s father was
part of it, he supposed. This wasn’t some reality show ghost story he could
easily dismiss as superstition. This was something with a deliberate history,
intended for him.

The parts
written by Roy were the most baffling. It was as though his father was writing
in an entirely different language, one Steven had never heard. His respect for
Roy jumped significantly. He had accomplished many things Steven knew nothing
about. And still didn’t. But the writing was extensive, and part of Steven
yearned to learn what it was, to take advantage of what his father had felt
needed to be written.

After Roy
awoke, they had loaded the flare bundles and the guns into backpacks in the
trunk of Steven’s car. They decided one of them would carry the 9mm and the
other would carry a sawed off shotgun. Roy had pointed out to Steven how to
operate each one, where the safeties were, how to load them.

Roy snored
quietly as Steven piloted the car up Interstate 90, driving into the morning
sun.
This was the last day,
he thought.
No more after today.
He
envisioned his house in a normal state, returning to a normal pattern of life.
I
can go back to…what was I doing?
he thought. He honestly couldn’t remember
what had occupied his days after he was let go, before the hauntings began. It
made him a little melancholy.

He wondered
where Ben was buried, how it had been for Ben in the final days, if he had
tried to return to the grave site and correct his mistake.
Maybe, by the
time he realized what was happening, he didn’t have the strength,
Steven thought.
Ben at least had the good sense to haunt the place.
Steven wondered if
any of the four owners of the house between Ben and himself had made it as far
as Steven, if they had encountered the shadow, if it had drained them too. If
any of them had pieced it together. If maybe he and Roy weren’t the first to
attempt what they were about to do.

After an
hour, he turned onto the highway that led to the cabin. Another twenty minutes
and they could turn onto the small road that was the final leg of the trip.

Steven felt
nervous, but at the same time confident. He supposed he was picking up on Roy’s
confidence, that it was rubbing off on him. As Steven thought back over the
past several days, he realized Roy had no fear. Roy had taken delight in
confronting everything they had encountered. He didn’t hesitate. Steven thought
he had been reckless, failing to consider consequences. But through it all,
Roy’s approach had worked. Each time they had progressed, gaining new
information they needed to tackle the problem. He knew Roy didn’t know the
outcomes before he jumped, but he jumped anyway. Steven presumed it was because
of a character flaw, but now he saw that it was just courage.

Or
experience. As far as Steven knew, Roy may have encountered far more
frightening things than they were confronting now. Either way, Steven realized
he’d been wrong. Roy was right, Steven didn’t give him enough credit. He looked
over at the sleeping man in the car, and his admiration grew. 
He knew I’d
figure this out,
he thought.
I need to trust him.

As the car
approached the spot in the road where they would stop and walk to the cabin,
Steven woke Roy. “We’re here,” he said.

Steven
reached for the door handle, but Roy stopped him. “Wait,” he said. “Before we
go out, this.” He produced the Mason jar. He removed the lid and handed it to
Steven. “Two large gulps. It’ll sting, like booze.”

Steven took
the jar, looked at the clear liquid once more, and raised it to his lips. It
went down more smoothly than he anticipated. He felt it spreading out inside
him.

“Not bad.
You must have used the good vodka,” Steven said to Roy, handing it back.

“Nah, I find
the rat shit smooths out the Popov,” he replied, taking two large gulps for
himself, capping the jar and returning it to the backpack at his feet.

“Rat shit?”
Steven asked.

“Just
fucking with ya,” Roy said, getting out of the car.

By the time
they dropped their gear in the cabin, Steven was feeling euphoric, with a
tingling moving through his muscles.

“Wow,” he
said to Roy, stretching his arms and fingers. “That drink is something else.
I’m surprised you’re not addicted to it.”

“Gives me
the runs,” Roy said. “And don’t get cocky. You’re not stronger. All it does it
make it harder for others to mentally attack you. It impacts them, not you. So
don’t do anything stupid.”

“Anything
else we need to do before we go up to the cave?” Steven asked.

“I don’t
think so,” Roy said. “We’ve gone over the guns, we’ve got the flares and
blowtorch, and we’re dosed up. I think that’s it.”

“Dad,”
Steven said, walking over to him. “If there’s something you’re planning you
haven’t told me about, please tell me now. I don’t want you to take unnecessary
risks. You don’t need to. You don’t need to surprise me with something new because
you think I won’t understand if you explained it beforehand. I’d rather be
partnered with you, knowing what we’re trying to do, than trying to catch up to
you.”

“You know
everything I’m thinking,” Roy said. “No surprises. We do it just like we’ve
talked about it.” Roy grabbed a backpack, slung it around his back. “But son,
listen to me.”

Steven
stopped. Roy didn’t often call him son.

“You have
certain expectations of how thing work,” Roy said. “You’re used to doing things
a certain way that’s predictable. You like to plan things out and then have
everything go to plan. Sometimes that works. Sometimes it doesn’t work.”

“I know shit
can happen,” said Steven. “I just wanted to be sure you understood that you
don’t need to hide anything from me.”

“That’s not
what I’m saying,” Roy answered. “Sometimes the plan has to be trusting in your
own ability to react. Sometimes a plan goes off rails so early, there was no
point in the planning. What matters is your ability to make quick decisions,
not get slowed down by seeing a plan unravel. Everything we’ve prepared for dealing
with this sonofabitch might blow up in our faces. You’ve got to trust that you
can still move forward, not freeze up or second-guess yourself. I know that’s
something you’re not used to, but it’s something I’m hoping you’ll do.”

Steven
thought about this. Roy was right, he knew it. “I’ve been learning a lot from
you, Dad,” Steven said. “Far more than you realize. Far more than I’ve
realized. It’s just difficult to trust in something you can’t see.”

“Oh, if
that’s the only problem,” replied Roy, “then just open your eyes. You’ll see
it.”

Steven
picked up his backpack. “I’ll try, Dad. Let’s go.”

-

As they
stood at the entrance to the cave, Roy was becoming visibly agitated.

“Is
something wrong?” Steven asked.

“No, nothing
wrong,” Roy replied. “It’s just…he’s in there.”

“You’re
sure?”

“Ninety-nine
percent.”

“You’re not
feeling sick like before?”

“No,” Roy
replied, “just apprehensive. He’ll be a cornered animal in there. Makes him
more dangerous.”

“I can tell
this isn’t the first time you’ve cornered something,” Steven said.

“A creature
in a mine shaft in Utah,” Roy said. “Long before I met your mother. It knew its
way around the mine a lot better than I did. That’s why I’m a little
concerned.”

“At least we
know this one is buried,” Steven replied, feeling anxious himself.

Steven
walked into the cave, Roy followed. Steven used a flashlight, Roy held a battery
lantern that was designed to sit on the ground and light up an area.

Steven
guessed they were about halfway to the first room in the tunnel when he stopped
and turned to Roy to check in.

“Still doing
OK?” he asked.

“Fine.”

“Feeling
anything?”

“The body’s
up ahead,” Roy said. “It feels stronger.”

Steven
turned and continued down the path. After several minutes they emerged into the
first small room.

“Not here,”
Roy said almost immediately. “Not enough water.”

They
progressed to the next small room, where Roy made the same pronouncement.

In the third
room, the water was more substantial. Steven pointed out the animal bones to
Roy. “They must be very old,” Roy said. “There are no animals in here anymore.
They wouldn’t live this near it.”

Steven took
that to be a good thing – not running into any bears or bobcats took his stress
level down a notch. He kept glancing at Roy, looking for signs that he might be
tiring or becoming sick. If he was feeling worse, he was covering it well.

“What about
the water, over there?” Steven asked.

“Not here,”
Roy replied. “Stronger up ahead. We’re not there yet.”

There were
two passages leading out of this room; they chose the one that contained the
stream of water.

The
passageway was still tall enough to easily stand upright, and both Steven and
Roy walked slowly and carefully through it, avoiding the water at their feet.
After another hundred feet the passageway opened into a large room, much larger
than the previous three. Steven guessed it was about fifty yards wide and the
same length. The ceiling was high. Scanning the walls of the room, Steven saw
some fissures but they were all small; a person would have to slide into them
sideways to progress. There was no easy exit from the room other than the way
they entered. The floor was a combination of dirt and rock, and located in the
middle of the room was a large pond of water that reflected their bouncing
lights. The water looked black and still.

“He’s here,”
said Roy. “In there.”

Steven
suddenly wished they had brought more lights. In the smaller rooms a flashlight
did an adequate job, but in this large room the light quickly dissipated. He
felt an overwhelming desire to just flick a switch and have the place
illuminate.

The pond was
about forty feet across. Water ran out of it and down the passageway, forming
the stream they had followed. He scanned the edge of it and could see no inlet.
“The water must come from underneath,” he said.

“And that’s
why the grave is probably near an edge,” Roy replied. “I think Ben buried him
next to it in dry ground, but then the lake expanded and covered the grave. This
room has probably seen cycles of the water rising and falling throughout the
years. Lucky for us it’s been on a rising cycle for the past fifteen.”

“Why don’t
we walk the perimeter a little, and see if you can pick up on where he’s at,”
Steven said. Roy sat his lantern down and grabbed a camping shovel from his backpack.

The two of
them paced around the edge of the pond, going slowly, shining their flashlight
into the first three feet of water. Steven stopped and placed his hand into the
water, about two feet out. It sunk only an inch.

“That’s
good.” said Roy. “I’d hate to dig through a foot of water.”

They
continued walking around the perimeter. When they reached the point about halfway
from the room’s entrance to the back of the chamber, Steven felt a tug in his
chest, and he stopped walking.

“You felt it,”
Roy said.

“Yeah, like
something pulling inside me,” Steven said.

Another
step, and the feeling increased. Two more steps, and it subsided. Steven backtracked
to the place where it had felt the strongest.

“Now,” said
Roy, “we just need to know how far into the water.”

They both
walked straight into the water, starting at the point where the tug was the
strongest. After two steps they were standing in an inch of water. After
another two, it came to their ankles.