The Altar (22 page)

“It hurts it, Dad. When you tell it to go away it hurts it. I saw Pastor Mark do it and it worked.”

Erik put his son down, then stepped forward towards the demon. If he could grab Vickie while the demon was still preoccupied....

Dovecrest began to chant in his native language and the demon backed up right to the altar. Erik charged forward but before he’d covered half the distance the thing had picked Vickie up in its arms again and stood on top of the altar stone.

“No!” he screamed. “Let her go!”

But the demon only looked up and grinned at him. Defiantly, it tucked Vickie under its left arm. It looked at Dovecrest with rage; it was obvious that the Indian’s chants were doing something to the monster. The upside down cross was burning and smoking now, lighting up the entire field like an incandescent light.

“Let her go!” Erik screamed again.

He heard a helicopter overhead. Apparently the authorities had tracked the monster here as well. If they started shooting, though, they’d hit Vickie.

He rushed forward, no longer caring about his own life or his own situation. He ran right up to the demon, grabbed Vickie by the arm, and pulled. She wouldn’t budge. His move was so quick that the demon didn’t react; it just stood there looking down at him as if it couldn’t believe what it was seeing. Dovecrest moved closer and continued his chants, louder now and with authority. Erik couldn’t understand the words, but he knew the meaning just the same. Dovecrest, in his own way, was banishing the demon, driving it out from the world of men.

Then the demon slowly knelt down on the altar as if in prayer. A sudden, vicious thought assaulted Erik like a fist to the pit of the stomach.

“She and the unborn are mine!” it said. “When I have finished with them, I will be back on this earth. You will not be able to stop me.”

Then the demon erupted in a black cloud of pungent smoke that choked Erik all the way to his lungs. He felt Vickie’s arm slipping away from him and he desperately tried to hold on. No, not slipping away, really. Melting away. Evaporating as if it were never there.

Then both she and the demon were gone, leaving Erik crouching next to the altar, looking totally bewildered.

“I’ve lost her,” Erik said.

Just then Todd rushed out from behind him and leaped onto the altar.

“No!” Erik screamed, but it was too late. He could see the boy’s form silhouetted against the spotlight of the helicopter, which was landing just on the other side of the altar. The boy was there. Then his shape shimmered and became translucent. Then, within an instant, he was gone.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

-1-

Pastor Mark waited for the soldier to open the helicopter door, and then he jumped out and ran to his friends who were huddled near the altar. Spotlights flooded the area. The demon was gone. It’d taken Vickie with it and, as far as Mark could see, Todd had leaped in after his mother and was gone as well.

Erik was banging his fist against the stone; his hands were bleeding and raw almost to the bone. Dovecrest stood next to the altar with his head in his hands.

“What happened?” Mark asked. “Did the boy go in?”

“Yeah,” Dovecrest said. “Only now we can’t get in. He’s locked us out.”

“How?”

“It’s complicated. But once someone follows the demon, the doorway closes. If we could have gone in at the same time....”

“So what do we do now?”

Dovecrest shook his head. “I need to look at the manuscripts. I’m sure there’s a way to unlock the door. I just have to find it.”

Mark nodded. “Then we’d better get working on it.”

He walked over to Erik and put his arm around his shoulders. Even after all these years of being a preacher, of going to funerals and being with people during their most troubled times, even after all these years he still never knew what to say. He’d memorized all of the catch phrases, and may have even believed in them. But the words never seemed enough, could never offer the comfort that was needed.

“We’ll get them back,” he said. But in his heart, he didn’t know how.

“I...I had her in my hands. I just...I just couldn’t hold on. She just evaporated right there in front of me. And then Todd....”

“It’s going to be ok,” Mark said. “We’ll figure out something. We’ll get them back. We need to have faith. Now more than ever.”

Dovecrest came over to stand by them.

“We’ve got work to do,” the Indian said. “I think I can get us back into that portal to go after them. Are you coming?”

-2-

Erik looked up at Dovecrest but couldn’t even hear his words. His system had suffered such a shock that even listening had become a task. He just wanted to bury his face in his hands and die. He didn’t want to think. He didn’t want to remember. But all he was left with was the memory of holding onto his wife’s arm with all of his strength and then feeling it just dissolve right there before him. It was as if she had just evaporated into thin air. No, he didn’t want to think, didn’t want to remember. He just wanted to go to sleep forever. But this voice was shouting at him, insistent.

“Erik, come on. We have to move fast or we’ll be too late. Come on. I think we can do this thing.”

“What...thing?” he asked.

“We can get them back. Come on. I think I have a way.”

“What do you want me do to?”

“We’re going to go through that portal and bring them back out. And we’re going to destroy that thing once and for all while we’re at it.”

“Go to hell!” Erik said. He felt the tears running down his cheeks, tickling a little as they flowed over his cheeks and burning his eyes. “I don’t want to do anything. I just want to die.”

“We are going to go to hell. But no one’s going to die to get there.”

He felt the two men pulling him along by the arms, the pastor on one side and the Indian on the other. His legs moved by themselves, and slowly he became aware of his surroundings. There were soldiers here now, and a helicopter. He had no idea where they had come from. There were flashlights everywhere, and the spotlight from the helicopter burned his eyes. His friends brought him over to the edge of the clearing and sat him down in the grass. One of the soldiers came over, shined a flashlight into his eyes, and opened a medical kit. The man started wrapping some bandages around his hands.

That was when he realized that his hands were cut open and bleeding from where he had pounded on the altar stone. He also realized that they hurt quite badly. He looked into the eyes of his two friends and saw their concern, not only for his family, but for him.

“Mark and I can go in,” Dovecrest said. “And you can stay here. We need someone on this side in case it comes back. But I thought you might want to come and find your wife and son.”

Erik hadn’t realized how dry his mouth felt until the soldier offered him a drink from his canteen. He took a long swallow, then another. The water was cold and helped to clear his brain.

“You think you can get me in there?”

Dovecrest nodded. “I think I know how to open the portal. But just for a moment.”

“Then I have to go. My wife’s in there. And my son. And my baby.”

“All right then. It’s you and I. Pastor, you’re going to stay here and if that thing tries to get back out, you’re going to seal this end and keep it in.”

-3-

Todd hadn’t thought about anything when he leaped onto the altar and fell through the doorway leading to another world, another dimension, another existence. He’d seen his mother going away and he had just reacted. He didn’t know if it were right or wrong, good or bad. His body had simply taken over his mind, and had acted on its own.

Only now, as he fell in what seemed like an endless thrill ride, did he have the time to consider what he had done. Except now he was too terrified to even think.

He felt as if he were falling from an airplane—only he was so far up that he couldn’t see the ground. Everything was so black that he couldn’t even see his fingers when he held them up in front of his eyes. He was falling fast and hard, and straight down—to what, he had no idea. If there had been a ground below, he would have smashed into it by now, and the horrible picture of the soldier smashing to the pavement haunted his memory once again.

He knew he was falling because he could feel the air rushing past him, like when you put your hand out the window of the car on a long trip on the highway. Only this felt even faster than what the car would go. His stomach also knew he was falling. He felt that it was at least a ten story building behind him already, and loosing ground with each second.

He felt like he should be screaming—that’s what people did in the movies when they fell—but he couldn’t. For one thing, he was falling too fast to even catch his breath long enough to scream. And for another, he knew no one would hear and it would be a waste of energy. In fact, he wasn’t even sure if he could even dent this soundless vacuum with a scream. It would be like putting a drop of red paint into the ocean and expecting it to change color.

He wondered how much longer he would fall. After all, he couldn’t fall forever, could he? That was impossible. Then again, so were demons that turned from molten lava into winged obsidian and that could overturn a tank and disappear into an ancient stone. Or at least he thought they were impossible until now. No, the rules of the universe, as he knew them, had definitely changed. And not for the better.

After what seemed like an eternity, he thought his fall might be slowing down, and he sensed that he was now falling forward and not just down. It was like he was flying. Not flying, exactly, because he couldn’t go back up. Gliding, maybe. Gliding downward.

As he fell, he also felt it getting hotter. He’d overheard his Dad and the Indian talking about following this demon into hell. Apparently, that’s where he was falling. Into hell. He wondered if he’d meet up with the devil. He supposed even Satan couldn’t be much worse than this demon he’d already run into.

Finally, he felt the fall slowing, but the intensity of the fires was increasing. He felt sweat pouring from his forehead, and in the distance he could see a red-hot glow, like the top of an active, flowing volcano. Only this volcano didn’t seem to reach upward. Instead, it was reversed, pointing downward, like it had been turned upside down and he was entering it from its base and heading towards the volcanic cone.

Before he got to the center, though, he slowed almost to a stop, and then felt solid ground beneath his feet. He dropped to his knees and reached down. The ground was made of the very same rock as the altar stone was made of. He wondered if this was another place or another planet. But the first thing he had to do was find his mother.

-4-

Erik and Dovecrest joined hands and stood beside the altar, while Mark and the soldiers stood back and out of the way, just in case the portal tried to draw them in.

“Are you ready?” Dovecrest asked.

“Yes,” Erik said. He didn’t want to wait another minute. He needed to do something and do it now. He’d already done too much waiting for one day.

“All right,” the Indian said. “It may take a few minutes to prepare the way. But when it happens, we’ll know. We jump onto the altar together and go through.”

“I’m ready.”

Dovecrest began a low, melodic chant in his native language. At first the chant was so subtle that Erik thought the man was humming, and thought it odd. But gradually the pitch and volume increased and it turned from a hum into a song. Erik couldn’t understand the words, or even the meaning, but he found the cadence and rhythm comforting, somehow, as if this were a familiar song he had heard since he was a child. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. If this worked, he’d need all of his strength and all of his wits. He still wasn’t sure how they’d destroy the demon when they found it, and Dovecrest had done his best to avoid all mention of that subject. It was as if he himself didn’t know.

But Erik knew they couldn’t do anything until they passed this first test and actually crossed over into the demon’s realm. He wondered if it were really hell, or just a different world, or a different reality. He’d never quite thought of hell as having a portal connecting it with this world. Apparently, though, those devil worshippers from colonial times had created just such a portal, a gate. A gateway to hell.

He felt the Indian’s voice growing stronger, more confident, and he felt the real world beginning to dissolve around him. Once it began, it happened quickly. He opened his eyes and saw the altar clouding over with a smooth, gray mist.

Dovecrest squeezed his hand.

“Now,” he said, reverting to English as he stopped his chant.

The two men jumped onto the altar. Erik felt its solid, rocky surface beneath his feet, but only for a moment. Then the very rock itself began to transform. First it turned rubbery, as if he were standing on the surface of a jogging track that had been covered with that cork-like rubbery substance designed to absorb shock. Then it became even more spongy; he felt his feet sink in more deeply. He had his eyes open but couldn’t see anything through the haze.

It seemed that sound had not become nonexistent also. It felt like he was inside a hollow chamber and insulated from all noise. Even if he tried to talk he suspected his voice would just not exist here. It was if he were entering some gigantic vacuum.

He looked over at Dovecrest but could not see the man, even though their hands were still tightly locked. Then the very rock beneath them disappeared. The solid bottom dropped away and the very ground beneath his feet was gone and he began to fall.

PART THREE: INFERNO

Abandon hope all ye who enter here.

—Dante

To bottomless perdition, there to dwell

In adamantine chains and penal fire.

—John Milton

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

-1-

Todd could not believe the emptiness of this place. It was as if he were the only living thing in the universe. He thought he’d wind up next to his Mom and that the demon would be waiting for him. But there was no one, nothing in sight. Only that awful rock—the same stuff the altar was made of—and it went on forever.

It was hot—but this was not the broiling hot fiery place he’d been taught about in Sunday school. There weren’t any people running around on fire, and there were no red devils poking people with pitchforks. It felt more like he was on the moon than in hell. He’d thought this place would be full of people, but it looked like he was the only one here.

“Hello?” He called, hoping to hear his mother’s voice. Even the sight of the demon would have been welcome at this point, he thought. He could speak, but it was like yelling into a vacuum. The sound just didn’t carry very far.

He decided that he’d better move somewhere. He’d never find his mother standing here on the rocks wondering what to do next. There really was just one way to go, and that was down. The whole thing reminded him of a program he’d seen on television about ant lions, which were bugs that made a big funnel-shaped trap in the sand. When an ant came by it would fall into the tunnel and the ant lion would eat it.

He wondered if this place was like that—a giant trap to catch you when you went down to the center. He supposed if that were the case it was already too late. He couldn’t see any other way to go but down.

There was no path, but it was easy to navigate. The only landmark was the cherry-red mouth-like opening at the bottom, and that lit up everything with just enough light to see by. The slope definitely headed downward, but not so steep that he’d have to worry about falling. His mother was down there somewhere with that awful demon. Todd wasn’t sure what he’d do when he found them, but he’d already committed to this by jumping through the gate, so he guessed he’d figure it out as he went along.

He slowly made his way down the rocky surface. Actually, as he went lower the thing did get steeper, and the volcanic rock was shinny, sleek and slippery. Its jagged edges did give him plenty of footholds, but they also cut into his hands and feet.

As he approached the large center opening, Todd became away of two things. First there was the overwhelming sense of loneliness and aloneness. He had never, ever been this alone in his life. His parents or an adult was always nearby. Even if he were alone in his room, he knew his mother or father were in the house, usually in the room next door. Any cry of help would be immediately heard and they would come to him. He’d almost felt this way when he was lost in the woods. But that had been different, too, because there had been sounds. Birds, crickets, and even the sound of the wind. And he’d felt that awful voice calling for him. No, he hadn’t really been alone that night. At least the thing hadn’t gotten back into his head.

The second thing he became aware of was the smell. It was a weird smell, and not altogether unpleasant—it wasn’t anything like the smell of burning flesh that he’d smelled lately, and it didn’t come close to that awful reek that the demon gave off. Just the thought of it made him want to throw up again. This was different. It was a little sickening, like the small of moldy fruit. But it was also a little sweet and pleasant, like a ripe coconut that had just been cut open. It wasn’t either of those things, really, but it was close. He just thought it odd that hell would smell like a tropical fruit. Whatever it was didn’t really matter, he thought. And if it did—well, he’d figure that out later, when he got to where he was supposed to be.

-2-

It seemed like he fell forever. Somewhere on the way down, he lost his grip with Johnny Dovecrest and the two men were separated, but he knew his friend was beside him, falling down as well. He felt like he was dropping like a bullet, with no end to the fall in sight. Everything around him was a piercing black that no light could penetrate, and he felt the wind rushing past him. He never had minded heights, but falling terrified him; he tried to close his eyes and pretend he was floating, but his stomach had different ideas. It was all he could do to keep from vomiting, and his head whirled around as if he’d been in a centrifuge.

At last the speed of the fall seemed to slow, and he began gliding, or so it seemed. Tentatively, he opened his eyes. In the distance far below him he saw a black opening, surrounded by a cherry-red circle of what appeared to be hot coals. He wasn’t sure if that was where he came from or where he was going to, but the opening seemed to be getting larger. He could now vaguely see Dovecrest’s shape beside him. The Indian flashed him the thumbs up sign to indicate he was all right. Though Erik didn’t feel all right himself, he flashed the sign back.

He tried to speak and, even though he was shouting, no sound escaped his lips. It just seemed swallowed up in this endless, vast expanse of nothingness. There was no sound and no light other than the cherry-red glow of the coals below.

Finally, they landed on solid rocky ground. It was, in fact, the same kind of black, polished obsidian that the altar was made of. Only this was a virtual sea of volcanic rock. It went on for as far as the eye could see, downwards towards the black hole surrounded by hot coals. It was as if they were standing on the rim of a giant funnel leading downwards with a fire-ringed opening at the center. The center looked miles away, and it didn’t appear that there was anything here except that endless black rock.

Erik wasn’t sure what he imagined hell would be like, but it wasn’t anything like this. Hundreds of millions of tortured souls, perhaps. Sinners being cut or burned or ripped apart by monsters. Endless pain and suffering. Fire and brimstone. Whatever vision he had of hell contained people, people who had sinned. He had imagined hell contained people like Adolf Hitler, Caligula, and Vlad the Impaler. Rapists, murderers, serial killers. He’d imagined there would be millions of sinners, from the most notorious criminals to those who simply did not believe.

But this place was empty, barren, devoid of any life whatsoever. This version of hell was an aching void of emptiness and loneliness. It was silence and it was aloneness, the ultimate form of solitary confinement with miles and miles of hard, barren landscape and no where to lie your head. It was like being on the moon, but with no spaceship and no way back. And it would be like this for an eternity. He would have preferred the fire and brimstone. At least it would have been something.

For the first time he understood what it meant to be eternally separated from God—not only God, but all of his creations.

He looked at Dovecrest and saw the same thoughts reflected on the Indian’s face.

“It’s worse than you could possibly imagine,” he said, and realized that his voice could now be heard after all. “I was expecting Dante and his circles of suffering. Not this. Where is everyone?”

“Oh, I suspect they’re here,” Dovecrest said. “Probably by the millions. But this place is so vast, so infinite, that they won’t ever find one another.”

“Then how will we ever find my wife and son. And that awful thing that took them?”

“Your wife and son are alive. They don’t belong here. They’re not damned souls, remember? And for that matter, neither is that demon. At least not damned in the way we know it. We’ll be able to find them. They will stand out.”

“How do you know that?”

“Simple,” the Indian said. “You can see me, can’t you?”

“Yeah. So what?”

“If I were a condemned soul, we’d never be able to find one another and communicate. Not even if we were standing just three feet apart. That’s the punishment, don’t you see? Eternal banishment—from everything.”

Erik nodded. In a weird way, it made sense.

“All right,” he said. “Where do we begin?”

-3-

The demon Wrath didn’t need to climb down the portal that entered hell. It flew straight down the center and through the red-hot fiery gates, carrying the pregnant woman with it.

It was not pleased with the fact that it had been driven away and forced to come back to this wretched place. It had looked forward to spending some quality time with the people of earth, just getting to know them and their suffering. It had enjoyed the time spent there and was looking forward to a very extended vacation, so to speak. It hadn’t grown tired of inflicting pain and suffering—after all, that’s what Wrath was all about.

It believed it was one of the most formidable of the demons and, in fact, was not really a demon at all, in the true sense of the word. It was more a personification of sin itself. Compared to other demons—lust, envy, spite, and a host of others—Wrath felt very terrible indeed. It almost laughed to itself. It just couldn’t see lust biting a man in half and chewing on both parts at the same time.

Things had been working out exactly according to plan until that meddling preacher had shown up and sent him back down to hell again. Not that it was the end of the world. It felt more like a child that had been disciplined and sent to its room without supper. The demon’s pride was hurt as much as anything, that this little, meek, half-baked pastor had gotten the better of it.

Not that it liked being in hell. No, by all means, hell was...well, hell was hell, even to those who ran the place. There was a reason people did not want to go here. It wasn’t all fun and games and good times. It had looked into some human minds during its time on earth, and it had been amazed at the things it had seen. There were some who actually thought hell was where you were able to do all of the forbidden things that you couldn’t do when you were alive because they were wrong. These people thought hell was just a huge orgy of sex, drugs, and good times. If that were so, they’d be dying to get here, the demon thought.

On the contrary, hell was not a happy place. It wasn’t like the way it was pictured, though, that was for sure. There were no devils with pitchforks or scalding hot oil or perpetual burning. What kind of God would torture His creations that way? No, but the reality of hell was much worse. Sometimes it wondered at God’s sense of humor.

The reality of hell wasn’t burning and fires, at least not in the traditional sense. When people came here they got exactly what they had wanted, and what they deserved. People who came here did not want to know God, had, in fact, turned away from Him, and did not want to be bothered with Him or his rules. So that’s what God gave them. Eternal separation. He showed them the light, dangled it before them like food to a starving man, and told them what they could have had, if they had chosen it. But they chose the alternative, so He took it away, just as they realized how absolutely wonderful it would have been....

Wrath knew all about hell. Because the demon too, was eternally cursed and could never be redeemed. It had chosen the dark side, never realizing the absolute radiance of the light until it had seen for itself, and then had been taken away. And now, to have to live for the rest of eternity with its sin burning up inside it like horrific brimstone, burning and eating away from the inside out forever and ever. And to have seen what could have been, and then given this instead, this miserable existence that could never know love or comfort, or freedom from the burning sin within.... That, indeed, was hell, and it was worse than anything that could ever be imagined.

Sure, it had escaped for a short time, and had been able to indulge in the sin that burned within it. But the story was the same. It was forced back into its room, and the wrath inside it would continue to burn and blaze and smolder. It was the personification of a sin that it could not indulge in while it was here, not without a trip back to earth. And now that was over, at least for now.

But this time would be different. This time it had brought a plaything back with it. It felt the woman writhing in his grip. Apparently she was having another contraction. They were coming closer together now. That meant the baby would come soon, all young and new and innocent. Its terror would be extreme as it died, and its delivery and birth in hell would cause quite a stir. Its death would be even more interesting.

The demon flew easily through the inner portal and into the main chamber of hell itself. This was its home, of sorts, such as it was. A deep funnel leading to the bowels of an entirely different dimension.

It thought for a moment about the human scientists who tried to explain things. This place defied their physics in so many ways. It wished it’d brought one of them with it, just to hear how they’d explain this world. They’d probably try to bring in rotating black holes, quasars, and quarks to make sense of it all. But this was so very far beyond their comprehension as to be laughable. The mortals thought they knew how things worked and what the universe was like. But their science was so very, very far off the mark.

It passed through the gates to another entirely different world, a world like a chocolate layer cake leading endlessly downward. This world was populated by billions of people, more people than what currently lived on the earth. Only they weren’t people anymore. They were disembodied souls. Still alive—yet not alive. Dead, but not dead. And each one very much aware of its own misery. The demon Wrath could see each and every one of these souls. But the irony of it was that, although there were billions of them, they couldn’t see each other. They existed in the same place of existence, often flowing through one another. But each one was as unaware of the next as they endlessly searched for others that they would never, ever be able to find. It was a doomed, damned solitary existence that would last for eternity.

The demon passed through the portals and came to a soft landing on the barren plains inside. This was an endless world of black sand and volcanic rock that went on for as far as the eye could see, and stopped just on the edges of infinity. No single being could ever search every corner of this world, not even in eternity. But they were each doomed to try in the ill-conceived hope that they would find someone, anyone, they could be with. At first they would search for specific loved ones from their past. But soon enough they would search for anyone, just anyone that could fill the void that was endless separation from God and all that was good.