Dead of Winter (44 page)

“It is an exorcist’s greatest weapon,” Father Xavier said. “If a demon cannot be driven from a possessed one’s body before the Turning, then the cross-blade is to be stabbed into the host’s heart.” He handed one of them to Tom. “This was Andre’s. He won’t be needing it.”

Tom understood the pain that darkened the priest’s eyes. “Father, I’m sorry for—”

Father Xavier raised his palm. “We must keep our thoughts pure. Sadness and anger will only strengthen the dark forces.”

Tom slid the cross-dagger into his belt. “Father, if I may ask, what drove you to become an exorcist?”

“I got the calling when I was ten years old.” The priest shared what had happened to his sister, Mirabelle. How she had been possessed by a demon that made her commit suicide. At his sister’s grave, young Xavier swore to God he would avenge her. “I’ve been hunting my sister’s demon my whole life. And now I’ve finally found it.”

Tom heard the sound of cloth tearing. He looked up at Willow’s portrait that hung over the fireplace. Invisible claws sliced through her painted face. From down the hall, Willow screamed.

187

In Willow’s bedroom, ravens and jackdaws flew outside the windows, causing bird shadows to flap along the walls. The young woman fought against the ropes that bound her arms and legs to the bedposts. Her blonde hair was streaked with white. Her face, once beautiful, barely resembled the woman Tom had known. He gripped his dagger-cross as she reached for him, stretching the ropes. “Come to me, lover.”

Father Xavier flicked holy water on her. “I cast out this demon in the name of Our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Willow hissed and kicked her legs in a childish tantrum. “No, no, no, no, no!” Then she laughed, craning her head back toward Tom. She arched her back, heaving her bosoms. “Do you want me, darling?”

“Stop,” Tom demanded.

Moaning, she licked her lips, spreading her thighs. “Don’t you want to fuck me?” She lifted her pubic bone. Her nightgown slid down her heavily veined thighs, exposing her undergarments to him.

“Willow, stop!” Tom threw a blanket over her.

She scowled. “How dare you deny a woman in heat?” She bounced on the bed. “Somebody fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!”

Pendleton, Hysmith, and Thain entered the room.

“What the hell’s happening?” asked Avery.

“Your wife’s demon has taken over,” Father Xavier said. She rolled her eyes back as the priest spoke. “You might not want to witness the exorcism.”

Tom said, “Let us handle this.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Pendleton barked. “Just get that goddamned spirit out of her.”

As Father Xavier chanted, Willow’s face rippled, the bones shifting beneath her skin. Before everyone’s eyes, she turned several years younger, looking like the Métis girl, Zoé Lamothe.

“What is your demon name?” asked Father Xavier.

“I’m the Secret Keeper,” Willow spoke in a child’s voice. “And I know
alllll
your sinful little secrets.” She giggled.

“What secrets?” Tom asked.

“You kissed Willow.” She snickered.

Pendleton glared at Tom. “What is she talking about?”

“I don’t know. She’s delirious.”

“You’re all a bunch of sinners.” Zoé glared at Avery and the two officers flanking him. “I know about the cellar. The wicked games you play.”

Pendleton said, “Woman, shut your mouth!”

Her face shifted back to Willow’s. “You three betrayed my beloved, and now he’s very, very angry.” In a singsong voice Willow chanted, “
Fais ce que tu voudras. Fais ce que tu voudras. Fais ce que tu voudras…
”

Pendleton screamed, “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”

Willow chided, “You are a pitiful husband, Avery, always off fucking your whores. Well, I, too, have found a lover. His name is Gustave, and he pleases me like you never could.”

“You bloody bitch!” Pendleton charged Willow. A force threw her husband against the wall. She cackled, kicking her feet.

Father Xavier held a cross to her face. “Gustave Meraux, if you are inside this woman, show yourself.”

Willow’s eyes went solid black. “Gustave is among us, yes, yes, the Dark Messiah’s coming, he is. Coming for you all!”

Tom shuddered as he felt the Cannery Cannibal’s presence in the room, along with many other damned souls. The entity inside his chest rammed against his ribcage like an animal trying to get out.

“What is your demon name?” Father Xavier said.

“We are
Legion
. We are everywhere. Inside each of you, feasting on your feeble minds.”

“You are nothing but a cowardly demon,” Father Xavier said.

“We are not!”

“You hide inside this woman, because you fear God above all!”

“There is no god here but us, you prickless eunuch!”

The exorcist threw holy water on Willow’s demonic face. She growled like a wild beast. The bed slid toward the men, grating across the floor.

Pendleton and the other officers fled the room.

Tom and Father Xavier dodged the moving bed. It stopped in the center of the room. Willow fought against the ropes, laughing like a crazy-house lunatic, slamming her head against the headboard.

Father Xavier chanted in Latin as he crept toward the bed. Tom walked beside him, wielding the dagger-cross, ready to drive it into the epileptic woman’s chest.

Willow sat upright. Her face shifted into Beth Hatcher’s. “Please, don’t let us die again.” Her belly swelled.

Tom backed away. “Oh, Christ, that’s my wife!”

Beth breathed short breaths in and out, in and out, as if going into labor. Her belly continued to expand. She doubled over, screaming in pain.

Tom stepped toward her. “Beth, no!”

“It’s not her!” Father Xavier shoved Tom toward the door.

“I have to help her!”

Beth’s belly kept swelling, threatening to burst.

“It’s just an illusion!” Father Xavier screamed in Tom’s face. “Leave, now!”

Tom left the room, tortured by the cries of his wife pleading him, “Tom Hatcher, don’t you dare abandon me again! Tom, come back in here! Tommmmmm!”

188

Father Xavier felt his arms shaking as he joined the men in the parlor. Everyone was in a state of shock. While Tom ranted about the woman yelling down the hall being his wife, Pendleton claimed he heard Willow’s angry voice; Walter Thain swore it was his mother’s; and Father Xavier heard his sister’s. “Xavier, don’t you dare abandon me again!” Mirabelle had screamed. “Xavier, come back in here!” She continued to yell and pound the headboard. He felt like he was ten years old all over again.

“Everyone ignore her,” Father Xavier said. “The demon is trying to drive us all mad.”

“It’s bloody working,” said Hysmith.

“I’m coming for you all!” Gustave’s voice screamed from down the hall. “One little sinner at a time.” Then he cackled like the flame-spitting clown from Xavier’s childhood.

Pendleton yelled, “Father, do something to shut that thing up!”

The exorcist looked at Pendleton, Hysmith, Thain, and Tom. Hour by hour, the men were steadily changing, their features growing more angular, their irises more white. “Each of you is hosting a demon. And the legion won’t stop until they have brought hell upon us all.”

189

Anika, dressed in buckskins and boots, strapped weapons onto her body: tomahawk, throwing knives, and medicine bag. Grandmother Spotted Owl walked over with a bowl of burning sage. “Lift up your arms.”

Anika stood with her arms out while her grandmother smudged her head and body with an owl feather and spoke prayers.

Swiftbear winked at Anika as he whittled a new animal spirit into his spear. Her uncle had fought outlaws and Iroquois Indians long before she was born. He had killed bears and moose and cougars with that spear. But he had never faced a windigo. None of them had.

The other warriors were sitting around the fire beating drums and chanting. They sang songs that summoned courage for battle. Anika took deep breaths as birds of panic flapped inside her ribcage. She grabbed her own totem spear and sat down in the heat of the fire next to her uncle.

Swiftbear touched her arm. “Do not be afraid, Little Pup.”

She couldn’t stop shaking. “We could all die tonight.”

Her uncle looked around at the singing braves. “Then we will journey on to
giizhig-oon
and fly with the eagles.”

“But what if the
wiitigo
turn us into their kind?” she asked.

Swiftbear gazed at the fire in the center of the wigwam. The rippling flames lit up the scars on his face. “If you die from a
wiitigo
, then follow the song of the Mediwiwin flutes. They will guide your spirit.”

Anika nodded. She couldn’t stop worrying about Tom. This Métis man who had hated her from the start. This man who had shunned his own people. This man who had more than once filled her with rage. Now all she could think about was his wounded heart. And the pain that Tom carried in his eyes. The moments they had spent sitting and talking. Now, a windigo spirit was inside him.

She pulled out the flute that Tom and Chris had whittled together. She studied the animal totems carved around the shaft—a white buffalo clashing horns with an elk, snow owls and ravens, and the faces of two women. One of them she recognized as herself. And Anika understood their destiny. And it gave her the strength she needed.

The drumming stopped. The logs in the fire popped. Anika gripped her spear as Swiftbear looked around the circle at the young braves. “For many winters our tribe has lived in fear of the
wiitigo
. They are beasts with skeletons made of ice. Some can walk as high as the trees. They crave flesh and their hunger never ends. They can possess a brave’s mind, if he is not careful. If a
wiitigo
whispers your name, do not heed its call.” Swiftbear rubbed a hand along his spear and looked at the elders who sat behind them. “Our weapons have been blessed by the Mediwiwin. Call in your animal spirits to fight alongside you. Trust your warrior instincts. Let the land that once belonged to our tribe be ours again.” He shouted a war cry, and the braves raised their weapons and hollered with him. Anika felt a rush of adrenaline as her warrior spirit howled through her.

Later, as the men packed a canoe at the riverbank, Grandmother Spotted Owl gave Anika a medicine bag. She opened the pouch and pulled out white shells that had been carved to look like buffalos. Grandmother said, “They have been blessed and have great power against manitous. Use them wisely.” The old woman hugged her granddaughter. “We will pray for your protection.” Anika climbed into a canoe beside Swiftbear, and the two of them, along with six braves, paddled up the river.

190

The snowstorm finally reached Fort Pendleton. The black-winged minions flew off in droves as heavy wind and snow pummeled the fort.

The disciple ran across the cemetery and entered the Dead House. He lit a candle and set it on a barrel. Several rats fled for the darkness.

“I’ve done as you wished, Master.”

The tool shed filled with the sounds of squeaks and chittering, the whir of flapping wings. Out of the gloom emerged a towering black mass made of ravens and rats. At the beast’s massive head, the rodents and dark wings parted, uncovering the pale face of Gustave Meraux. His eyes were solid black. The Dark Messiah grinned down at his disciple with sharp teeth.
Do you worship me above all?
Gustave spoke in the man’s mind.

The disciple kneeled. “Yes, Master.”

The twister of fur and feathers circled him, caressing the back of the man’s head with raven claws. He felt rats crawling onto his shoulders, down his back. The disciple shook with terror, afraid he might be eaten, then reminded himself of the glorious eternity that had been promised to him. “I will do anything you ask, my lord.”

Even sacrifice your own body?

The man placed a knife to his own wrist. “I would drain my blood for you.”

The dark mass whirled, once again spinning in front of the man. Gustave’s black eyes gleamed.
Then you will have everything your heart desires. Now open your mouth.

Black matter flowed from the demon’s mouth to the man’s. He began to choke, as if swallowing mud. His head and body shook violently, the spine popping, as hell’s fury filled him. And then the disciple’s awareness merged with many others full of hate and pain and suffering. And with them in this abyss of ice-cold blackness was their dark lord and savior. And the minions clung to the disciple, crawling across his body as he twisted and writhed inside his cocoon of fur and feathers. And finally he understood why the dark lord had come. When the metamorphosis was complete, the rats fell to the ground, scurrying off into the darkness. The ravens flew out the front door. The man stepped back outside. He touched his face and felt the solidity of his body. Grinning, the Dark Shepherd stared up at Noble House with a new set of eyes.

191

At Noble House, the fourth-story windowpanes rattled. Tom stood in the parlor warming his hands at a fire burning in the hearth. With the chill that now resided inside his body, he relished any source of warmth. He stared up at Willow’s portrait, her goddess-like features disfigured by five slashes that scarred her painted face. A short time ago Tom had lusted after this woman in sin. Had kissed her under the illusion that Beth had somehow returned. He had lied to his boss, denying his betrayal.

The only real truth, Tom now understood, was that everyone inside Noble House was slowly going crazy. In the dining room down the hall, the officers shouted at one another. From another hallway, Willow continued to wail and cry. And all Tom could think about was feeding his empty stomach.

Was this how the inhabitants at Manitou Outpost met their demise? Their demons slowly eating them from within until there was nothing left but animal hunger?

The demons seemed to know their weaknesses and fears. They filled their minds with illusions. In the final stages, when insanity reached its tipping point, the demons altered their flesh and bones. Tom couldn’t stop seeing the image of Willow’s face changing into Zoé’s. That childish voice.
I am the Secret Keeper
.
I know all your sinful little secrets.
Willow had called Gustave her lover, taunting Avery. And then she had become Beth Hatcher, as real as if Tom’s pregnant wife were lying there on the bed. She had glared at Tom with resentful eyes. His guilt over Beth’s and his baby’s deaths strengthened the entity within. It squirmed like a large tapeworm within his belly. The serpentine fetus sprouted a hundred centipede legs and crawled up into his ribcage. It demanded to be fed, filling Tom with unbearable cravings. He fed the thing another clove of raw garlic.