Sand Page 13

Chapter Thirteen

  John found the rock leaning up against the stone foundation of the old cabin and moved it just the way Marcie had described. Before him the ground opened up with a startling yawn of giant proportions. Instead of a long staircase down, there was now a dual set of spiral stone steps leading down into the earth.

  “Any idea which one to choose?” John asked Marcie.

  “The Keeper always goes down the one on the left.” Marcie answered. “Where he goes after that is anyone's guess.”

  “He still keeps the Mist out of the Cabin?”

  “Yes.”

  John approached the left staircase and looked down into its dark interior. He felt a chill go up his spine and noticed the cloud in his mind was very close. Momentarily he congratulated himself on being right about where the trouble lay. Then reality set in and he did not feel so elated about being right. For the first time since he had last sat in chapel at college, he prayed.

  “Jesus, however you may be a part of my life, in whatever capacity or reality and correctness, which I lay no claim to fully understanding, I sure could use your help right now. If you ever helped my father, I would love for you to help me.”

  “You sound unsure of yourself, John.” Marcie suggested. “Maybe you should not go.”

  “The only thing I am sure of, Marcie, is that I must go.”

  “Remember your connections, John. You never travel alone.”

  With that, John stepped down on the first step of the spiral staircase he had chosen. He could feel the electrical surge of the spiritual atmosphere of the underground hideout surging through his body. Marcie had been right. This place was far more elaborate and the sense of the Keeper's power much stronger. He hoped he was up to this. Not that it mattered. Somehow he had been chosen by some turn of events or situations to be here. He had not run when Kathy's life was at stake. He would not run this time, either. Rita was down there somewhere. Rita and a seven year old child. They were both probably scared out of their wits, not believing that anyone could rescue them from this nightmare.

  A gentle anger built in his mind as he descended the steps to the bottom. Darkness enveloped him about halfway down and he continued using his left foot to check the step before placing his weight on it. He had visions of the steps disappearing at some point and stepping off into nothingness. But if the Keeper had come this way, there had to be a path to the hostages, too. They were physical bodies that had to be carried or forced along down here.

  Ten minutes later, John found the bottom. A soft light from further along the passage landed close enough to the steps to show the end of the downward path. Keeping the past experiences in this Cabin at the forefront of his mind, John admitted to himself he had no idea where the Keeper would confront him. It would happen. He had no doubt the Keeper knew he was there. He was connected to the Mist. He was Lord of this Cabin plane. He knew.

  John thought ahead along the tunnel path in the stone and searched for Rita or the child who had been abducted. Nothing. Darkness ahead. That was what greeted his mind. He searched for the Keeper. It felt like a bad move at first, similar to a boxer leaning into an uppercut, but he knew of nothing else to try.

  Two more turns in the passageway and he felt the stirrings of Rita's energy. They had made a connection when he pulled her through the cloud. He remembered the way she felt. Actually, when he felt the stirring he recalled what it felt like when he had grabbed on to Rita. He had no connection to the child so he could not sense her. He hoped that she was with Rita. At least then, Rita could offer some comfort to the scared child.

  He searched again for the Keeper of the Cabin. Nothing. He had to be blocking the connection. Or maybe the change the Keeper had undergone changed the connection they had from their earlier confrontation. John was guessing. This was new territory for him.

  Continuing along the passageway, John promised himself that after this he was going to make sure this Cabin was never used again. This was his land. He was the authority here. He never gave his permission for this Cabin to be there, in the spiritual or the physical.

  “And what makes you think you are the authority in my house?” The voice was unmistakably the Keepers in his head.

  John stopped walking.

  “Let them go, Keeper. We had a deal. You were to leave and never come back here.” John tried the obvious even though he had heard the argument against it already.

  A storm of sand pelted him. Stinging grains of sand smashed against him and drove him back against the stone wall cowering against the onslaught of tiny sand pellets. He could hear a howling sound, like so many souls enraged at his presence. For a long minute the sand pushed at him, pinning him to the wall. Then it ceased.

  John shook the grains of loose sand from his clothing and stood upright in the passageway again. Before him stood a sand sculpture of a human form. The Keeper was tall and strong looking. His eyes burned with a fierce fire that John could not place. Nothing earthly, that was for sure. The smile on the figure's face bordered on the maniacal. John had seen it before. It was definitely the Keeper.

  “Why have you come here?” The Keeper was shouting in John's head.

  “This is my land.”

  “So? I have built this for myself and you have no deal with me any more since you let my daughter die.”

  The Keeper referred to his former relationship with John's now dead wife, Kathy. John was resolute that nothing was going to sidetrack him from his current mission. Retrieve the abducted people.

  “You tried to kill me with your control over Paul. You have invaded my land. You are the one who is trespassing. You have no deal with the authority of this land to even be here.”

  “And who would that be?” The Keeper was still shouting in John's head, trying to disrupt his flow of thought.

  “Me!” John shouted back from his head just as loudly. “This is my place, my authority zone. You are an uninvited guest here, who is trying to take it away from me. You shall not succeed.”

  “The Keeper chuckled. His laughter shook the walls of his underground passage. You are such a puny thing in my world, John. Why can you not see that you are overmatched here?”

  “If we were talking physical existence, I might agree with you, Keeper.”

  “Call me, Kul.”

  “Kul?”

  “That is how I am known, now.”

  “Whatever. We're not exactly going to be friends I don't think.”

  “To bad. I was hoping you would consider joining me.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because the alternative is subservience in the Sand.”

  The storm of sand raised up again and attacked John, driving him to cover his face and lean back into the wall. When the storm once again died down, John shook the grains of loose sand from his clothes and looked around. Gone.

  “Kul!” John shouted in his head. “You can't run from me.”

  “Who's running, boy?” The answer came sharp and biting to him.

  John sought out his connections again. Something was blocking him from determining anything. He knew it was Kul or the Keeper or whoever he was.

  “You can not hide, either.” John warned the Keeper.

  “Not hiding, boy. Just waiting.”

  “For what?”

  “For you to stop wearying me.”

  “I want you off my property,” John said.

  “So what?” Kul responded.

  “I'm making a spiritual complaint. You are trespassing. This is my area of authority because I have purchased the land in the physical, human plane. I have the authority to decide what this land is used for.”

  “My realm is in the spiritual. It transcends your precious land of the physical.”

  John thought about that a moment and continued moving along the passageway deeper into the Cabin plane. The Cabin was definitely in the spiritual plane that the Keeper had created to hide from the Creator of Life and the punishment he would be subjected to for the wrongs he had committ
ed.

  “Your precious Cabin has an opening in my area of authority. On my land.”

  “So what, you insignificant, puny human.”

  John ignored the obvious jibe.

  “So, I hereby revoke your ability to come and go on my land.”

  “You can't do that?”

  “Why not?” John asked and kept moving toward where he sensed the Keeper hiding.

  “Because I was here first.”

  “You had no deal to be here in the first place.” John reminded him. “You were trespassing then and you are trespassing now.”

  “So?”

  “So, I am revoking whatever privileges you have stolen and claiming them for myself. This is my land, my authority. You must submit to the authority of an area. Anything you do against that authority is a break in the deal which gives me authority in the first place.”

  “What makes you think I am worried about breaking a deal, now? If you push me from this Cabin, I am at the mercy of the Keeper of the Place of Chains. If you remember right, I built this place to avoid that fate.”

  “I remember.” John admitted. “I also remember I gave you a chance to go away and stay away without subjecting you to that fate. This time I will not allow such a way out.”

  “Allow?” The Keeper's bellowing anger was a hot wind blowing down the passageway, driving sand and other debris of the passageway against John's cowering body.

  “Who are you to allow me anything?” The voice kept bellowing and the sand storm continued blasting against John's hunkered down form.

  “I am the authority of this land.” John held his ground. It was all he had. If he relinquished it, he was finished.

  “Careful, boy. If you chase this construction I have so carefully built away, where will it leave your precious Rita and that child.”

  John had not thought of that. He had not considered that he could make the Cabin go away. He had moved under the assumption that he would shut it down and bring the captives out unharmed. But Kul had given him another thought. The girls were underground. If the Cabin ceased to exist, the girls would be trapped in the earth when it returned to its normal physical state. They would die.

  John searched again for the connection he had with Rita. He thought he felt it and then it was gone. Kul again. Either he had lost his control for a moment or John was getting close enough to make contact no matter what Kul was doing to block him.

  “Leave boy, or I will bury them here.” Kul demanded.

  “To do that, you have to submit yourself to the Keeper of the Place of Chains. I'm betting you're not going to do that.”

  “You're willing to risk that?”

  John thought about the question for a second before answering.

  “No choice. If I give in to you, I lose forever. If I don't, you lose forever. You'll pay for your actions and the Creator of Life will take care of your victims.”

  John felt a wavering in the block against him seeking Rita. She was close. He could actually see her in his mind. He chanced it and reached out for her puling himself to her.

  “No!” Kul's roar was deafening and the ensuing sand storm was the worst yet.

  John covered Rita's unconscious form and saw the form of an unconscious child nearby. Through the sting of the sand flying around the small room, he reached out and pulled the inert form of the child under him, also. The roaring voices in the swirling, driving sand particles complained against the rage of his intrusion in their world. It was a howling sound that made a winter blizzard seem like a gentle breeze.

  The sting of the sand made it hard to concentrate but John had no choice. He had to concentrate if he was going to return the child to her mother. As much as he felt he and Rita would be okay if their lives ended there right then, he also knew the child would be okay, too. But he could not shake the sight of the mother crying and wailing for the return of her child back in the campground. That memory drove him to fight for the child's return. The physical world needed its champion and he was it.

  With a final push on his much depleted energy level, John remembered the outside of the Cabin and pushed himself, pulling the two unconscious people in his grasp after him. They landed softly in the pine needles outside the Cabin.

  “No!” Kul's rage threw sand and pine needles and sticks and other debris of the wood around them.

  John held his position covering and protecting his charges. He felt the sting of the sand and the pricks of the pine needles being propelled along at immense speeds. The sticks were like clubs pounding away at his grip sapping his attentions and what little energy he felt he had left.

  “I revoke the ability of this Cabin and all the deals that supported it to remain in my woods!” John gave the shout his all. He spoke it aloud and for all to hear. “I am the owner of this land. I decide who abides here. I decide that the Keeper of the Cabin has no right to be here and all his spiritual construction is hereby denied any right to exist here. This is my land. Be gone, all who abide here unlawfully.”

  The sand storm quit. The woods settled back to their normal quiet. John lifted his head and looked around. Dawn was coming. The grayness of the air around them testified to the coming of the sun on its daily cycle. John blew a slow breath through his lips and took inventory of his body. Pain. Stinging pain met his every concentration. Wherever he thought to check himself stung from the sand blasting he had taken.

  Lifting himself up further, he looked down at Rita and the child he had rescued. Rita was stirring.

  “What's happening?” Rita's voice was as John remembered it from all those days ago. It had only been a little more than a year but he thought about it more along the lines of ages.

  “You're okay.” John assured her. “You're safe.”

  He wondered how much she remembered of what had happened. Would she even know what had gone on while she was unconscious? He decided to wait to hear what she would say before he told her anything.

  “Where am I?” She asked looking around in obvious confusion.

  “This is my campground,” John answered her initial query. He had to tell her something.

  Rita stared hard at John and fought with some idea that was shaking around in her head. In an instant she seemed to get a handle on it and she lunged forward, putting her arms around John's neck and pulling him down on top of her.

  “John!” She said loudly. “You did save me. I thought it was a dream. I called out to you and you saved me.”

  Releasing him slightly, Rita looked around her environment again. Confusion came back into her face.

  “How?”

  “It's a long story, Rita.” John shook himself free of her grasp which she relinquished regrettably.

  “You'll have to explain it to me sometime,” Rita smiled at him as she saw him move and bend over the form of the little girl.

  “Who's she?” Rita asked indicating the still form of the child.

  “A little girl whose mother and father are looking for her.”

  “Is she okay?” Rita moved over to examine the child, too.

  “She's breathing.” John answered. “Let's get her out of here and get a doctor to look at her.”

  Rita stood with John as he lifted the child. She followed him with her hand on his arm as he led the way through the woods to his camper. He was keenly aware that she was still naked. John felt her touch and smiled to himself. He searched the clouds and saw nothing. No danger anywhere in any direction. He walked on.

  When they made it to the camper, John told Rita where she could find some of Kathy's clothes inside. He had not touched them since she last had put them away. He told her he would wait outside until she got dressed.

  When Rita came out the camper door wearing Kathy's clothes, his mind revolted a little. Those were Kathy's things. He fought it down and told her she looked great. Then she joined him on the ground and they turned up the road, back toward the campground. As they topped the rise, John searched for Marcie or Kathy. Nothing. He had not felt the familiar t
ingle of the Mist as he walked through its area either. He had not thought of that.

  The Mist was there because the Keeper of the Cabin had made a deal for it to be there. When he sent all the spiritual construction of the Keeper away, he had not thought about sending the Mist away also. He had been intent on revoking the rights of the Cabin to exist on his property. He forgot that it was the Keeper's Cabin deal that brought the Mist there in the first place.

  The thought of Kathy and Marcie being gone saddened him. He had won the battle but he had lost the war. Losing Kathy before had been hard. But he had always known she was in the Mist. He could always call upon her, almost like she was still there.

  Tears filled his eyes and he tried to blink them away. Rita held onto his arm and followed him diligently not fully understanding what was happening but knowing that somehow, John had saved her from an almost sure death at the hands of her Paul. When they reached the roadway, he stumbled trying to shift the weight of the child in his tired arms. She caught him and pulled him upright. He smiled at her through tear filmed eyes and thanked her for her help.

  “Kathy!” he screamed in his head. “Marcie!” There must still be a connection. He was fighting down the panic he felt.

  “There is.”

  It was a strange voice that filled his head. It sounded like running water, yet more like lots of running water trickling over rocks and splashing into small pools.

  “Huh?” John was surprised.

  “There is always a connection to where you've been and even to where you are going if you can see that far.”

  “Who?” John was startled at this strange voice. “Who are you?” he thought.

  “I am the Creator of Love. You called upon me before you went into the Cabin.”

  “Jesus?”

  “That is one name among many that I have through the planes.”

  “Are my friends in the Mist gone?”

  “They are where they have always been, John. You claimed back your land revoking the privilege of the Mist to operate there.”

  “I understand that. Will I ever see them again?”

  “They are where they have always been John. Keep seeking your connections with this world and the planes around you and you will know the truth of connection as never before.”

  “So, I can contact them again?”

  “When you learn the path. May I make a suggestion, though?”

  “Sure.”

  “Pay attention to what's hanging on your arm now.”

  “Rita? What about Paul?”

  “He was part of the Keeper's construction. He disintegrated into the sand that he was as soon as you revoked the rights of Kul on your property.”

  “He's dead?”

  “He was already dead. Kul had given him artificial life to trick him into doing his bidding.”

  “Why do you let things like this happen?” John asked the universal question.

  “The rules of the universe and all the planes are set. Some may break them and escape the consequences for a time. Eventually all things come full circle and those who do wrong must pay the price. Kul paid the price. Right always triumphs over wrong. Unfortunately, he tricked Paul into following him and now Paul will pay a price alongside Kul.”

  “But you could stop the wrong before it happens.” John thought of the wrong that took Kathy from him.

  “I could, but then everyone would be living what I wanted and not what they want. Choice is a big thing, John. Without it, there can really be no happiness. Love can not exist without choice.”

  “Seems like maybe there should be some kind of spiritual police to keep things in order.”

  “Why? You did just fine. Keep up the good work, John. Be not weary in well doing.”

  “Ha, ha.” John smiled to himself. “You sound like my father now.”

  “Where do you think he got it?”

  Rita stumbled on a root and grabbed John's arm to keep herself upright. He steadied her and kept his footing so the child would not fall out of his arms.

  “We're even now.” She smiled up into his face as he turned to make sure she was okay.

  “John!” The call came from up the road on the rise. Detective Mercer.

  Suddenly John felt tired. Like someone had opened a flood gate and all the energy in his legs just floated out. He slowed his steps as he saw Mercer running to get to him. Someone he could relinquish the rest of the responsibility to.

  “Good job, son.” He heard the detective yelling as he closed in on their position.

  “Well done, good and faithful servant,” John heard another voice in his head. Funny. The voice sounded like his father's.