Echoes Through the Mist: A Paranormal Mystery (The Echoes Quartet Book 1) (29 page)

“That is rather the point, don’t you see? Your confusion is part of the mist that shrouds the truth. Mankind accepted the darkness as light long ago and has suffered for it since. You must not do the same.

“You ask if you will be ready. I tell you, do what you’ve been taught to do, but more importantly, be fully who you have become. Be as true to yourself as you know how to be,” she said.

“Calm your thoughts, focus, listen, and become the moment. Through the mist of false reality, you will hear echoes of the truth. The nearer you get to the source of truth, the more your mind will rebel as it tries to reconcile the dark to the light. However, know that as you approach, the echoes will become louder and clearer.

“It is then you will understand the present moment is what matters Julian, and what you do with it is what counts.” Bridget smiled.

“I want you to carry this with you always. At every instant you stand on the brink of a limitless expanse. The past is the past. You would not be here without it. As for the future, you are making it, one moment at a time.

“It begins and ends with you. Right now is what you must claim as your own along with each moment you experience. You, Julian, you are the moment. In this instant, you are everything you ever were and everything you are. Believe and trust in your courage at the moment you are most frightened. Listen for the truth because it all begins and ends with echoes through the mist. You will be as ready as you need to be. However, your vigilance is necessary for you to protect those you hold dear. You may trust me on this.”

The older woman touched her companion’s face, touched the scar on his cheek again while she looked deeply into his gray eyes. “Julian,” she said, “there is no need to worry. Moira has her concerns, but no doubts of your ability. It is right for a teacher to feel this way. Whatever the task, Moira and I believe you are ultimately and uniquely capable of handling it. You are not alone in this Julian. When the time comes, you will find there are others who will lend you their strength should you need it.

“Moira knows there is something crucial that needs to be done but it has been made clear it is not she who will accomplish it. Another had to be found, someone special.

“That did not happen, so when you turned up, she decided you would have to do,” Bridget said. The mischief was back in her eyes and she smiled shamelessly.

“That’s it,” Julian said. “I am going to report you the Irish Tourist Board. The lot of you are supposed to be charming and fun loving and drunk much of the time. You’re here to provide me with a bit of local Irish color. I am a tourist. I want a refund.”

“This, Mr. Julian Blessing, will teach you not to tease my very dear friend, the doctor.”

Bridget laughed and Julian moaned.

***

The night breeze whispered above them and cleared away the clouds, leaving a starless ink-black sky. Bridget Bragonier turned and walked toward the house leaving Julian with his thoughts and the night sky.

When he eventually entered Ailís’s house, he found Bridget beckoning him toward the best room. They were all asleep. The professor had dozed off and snored occasionally. Timothy was stretched out before the fire. Ailís slept in her chair with a book in her lap.

Julian smiled and put his arm around Bridget’s shoulder. “What a group,” she said simply and shook her head. “Can you get the boy?” Julian nodded his head and went to Ailís’s chair. He looked at her placid face, and then gently moved a lock of hair aside. She stirred and woke slowly. She smiled lovingly at Julian, then scanned the room. Julian kissed her forehead and then moved off to scoop up Timothy and carry him up to bed.

He heard Bridget say to her husband, “Reginald, I’m afraid we must go to bed so Julian here can go home.”

“What? What? I wasn’t asleep.”

“No, of course. Come along.”

“Oh, if it pleases you, I suppose I must.”

With Ailís’s assistance, Timothy was put to bed. Julian kissed the doctor deeply before making his way downstairs where he checked the doors and windows, banked the fires and secured the front door before he left.

There was something heavy, angry and dangerous in the air. Julian stepped into the street and felt it immediately. Closing his eyes he forced himself to do the opposite of what nature demanded. He let his mind and body relax. Julian was very still for a short time, then opened his eyes and smiled a hard smile.

He thought back on the conversation he’d had with Bridget. Phrases played in his head over and over and through out. There was an overlay of wisdom and the power wisdom brings. This was a wisdom he could use. He knew that for the first time, this power was one he was ready to wield.

As Julian approached the police station, he noticed there were no lights on. The desk lamp had been left on and the turf fire should have been throwing its soft warmth and light.

“Jimmy,” Julian said into the shadows.

“How is it you always know, Mr. Julian? You and the professor’s wife and of course, Mrs. Hagan?” Jimmie crossed himself. “Nobody else ever sees me. And, aye, it’s them no good ones again. You can see their truck parked in the shadows beyond the station. I was just on me way to get you.”

“Run up to Sean Maher’s and tell him to come quickly. Tell him not to interfere unless he thinks I need help.”

“Aye, Mr. Julian, but the last time it, well, it didn’t go in your favor overly much.”

“Jimmy, last time wasn’t this time. Now off ya go.”

Jimmy Grogan took off at a run for the far end of town.

“Every instant you stand on the brink of a limitless expanse,” Julian said to himself and exhaled deeply as he wondered what the very near future would look like. “Believe in your courage at the moment you are most frightened,” Bridget had said. Julian took another breath.

As he walked up the path, Julian could feel them. Three men. He stopped a meter short of the door. Julian cleared his mind, reached out his hand and without touching the door, opened it. He stepped inside the darkened station and the door closed behind him.

“What!” Sean Maher said.

“He told me to fetch you as the three bad’ns were inside the police station waiting for him.”

“What!” Sean Maher said as he pulled on his boots.

“Mr. Julian. He didn’t seem at all flustered. I was scared shitless, pardon me, Mrs. Maher.”

Kathleen Maher nodded without looking up as she knitted in her chair before the fire.

“What!” Sean Maher said as he got into his shirt.

“He said you’re not to interfere unless it looks like he needs help,” Jimmy said.

“What!” Sean Maher said as he pulled open the front door of his cottage and ran down the empty main street of Cappel Vale with Jimmy Grogan on his heels.

***

Julian could see the outline of his attackers. One leaned against the desk. Julian knew this would be the man with the spider tattoo. Against the back wall stood the man’s two assistants.

He could sense them all easily and clearly. The assistants were bigger men, older, sadder somehow, but dangerous and experienced. He remembered them well. The redheaded man was a bagful of vicious thoughts. The man spoke and Julian could feel in every word the rage, the malice and the man’s constant pressing need to cause pain.

“Ah, and if it isn’t our own little American. How goes it Yank? Oi understand you mixed it up with the wrong sort and came away the poorer for the exchange. Feelin’ better now?” The man chuckled.

“Oh, Oi thought Oi might mention it Yank, ya know your little slag, the doctor? Well, Oi’ll be givin’ her a special medical examination of me own afore this night is out. Don’t you worry none. I’ll dedicate the first fuck I pour into her to you. And no worries, I’ll have her beggin’ for more like the cheap whore she is. But you’ll be dead long afore any of that.”

All three men went silent and their breathing stepped up considerably as Julian leaned against the station door casually. He communicated a thought slowly, deliberately, a thought filled with stark malevolence.

“What a monumentally stupid thing to say. You and I will discuss that later. But first I have to arrest you all. Or destroy you all, which ever comes first.”

The voice the men heard was very quiet but the high voltage hum below the surface was palpable and Julian could feel their anxiety and that made him smile.

All three men facing Julian started to move slowly.

Julian thought to himself, “Listen for the echoes through the mist,” and with that, he bowed his head, took a deep breath and then he heard it,
“Go now.”
When he opened his eyes, his movements were synchronized with the moment. It looked as if time had frozen all three attackers. He knew they were simply moving in a separate reality, one clouded in a thick mist of ignorance and anger.

Julian took another deep breath and stepped back into normal time.

The man who had taunted him seemed disoriented for a moment before he crumpled to the floor screaming, his left knee shattered, his right bent at an acute angle. He clawed the air like a mad thing, thrashing in agony and begging. His companions against the back wall were writhing on the ground, holding their groins and retching.

Julian Blessing, with a pleasant smile, was now sitting on the station’s desk twirling the borrowed cane he no longer needed. He turned on the desk lamp and waited for help to arrive.

***

The station door opened and Sean Maher filled the room with an explosive and murderous presence. Jimmy Grogan followed and was fully prepared to mix it up and give far better then he got.

Two steps inside the room, Sean noted the two men on the ground behind the desk. Being an authority on impromptu warfare he knew the men had each been incapacitated, ‘nutted’ was the technical term, and would be out of action for the remainder of this exchange. “Ach, sorry Oi am lads, but you’ll each be pissing blood for a week.”

Sean turned his attention to the redheaded man on the floor. The man’s face was contorted in terror and an anguish that made Sean wince as he said, “Ah, Julian?”

Julian looked at Sean Maher and Jimmy Grogan and said, “Hey, thanks for stopping by. I’ll be with you in just a moment.”

Sean closed his eyes and winced again. He could feel this coming. “Jimmy Grogan, if you have sense, turn your head away. You shouldn’t have your entire life ruined because of this. It is going to be passing ugly. In fact, I’ll join you for the sake of me immortal soul.” Neither man looked away. Sometimes you just have to look.

Julian pointed the walking stick at the thug on the floor. The man whimpered in pain and his terror and cowardice were plain to see.

The man felt not only the words but also the force of Julian’s malice.
“Now, it is time for you to confess. If it’s necessary I’m going to grind my boot into what’s left of your knee – just to keep you focused. You see, I’m going to show you all the mercy you showed George Sullivan, Farmer Monahan and Tommy Ryan and the rest.”
Julian’s thin, twisted smile removed all hope for clemency.
“Let’s begin, shall we?”

Sean and Jimmy had been watching transfixed. The room seemed to hum and pulse with an electrical charge. Julian sat on the edge of the desk and without a word was still pointing his stick at the redheaded man. The lethal smile had not left Julian’s lips, but for all the world to see, he had said not a word.

Sean’s eyes narrowed and Jimmy’s went wide when the panic-filled voice of the redheaded man suddenly blurted out, “Don’t do it! Don’t! For the love of God, not me leg! Oh God, the pain is something awful. I can’t tell you nothin’. Oi don’t know! Oi don’t know!”

His scream tore the air. “Get me a doctor, please Jaysus, Oi’m dying with the pain! Make him stop. As Christ is me judge, Oi don’t know anythin’. We get our orders from Big Tom Lynch. That’s all Oi know. He gets his orders from some rich bastard in Loath.

“Please make him stop,” the man wept. “I’m sorry I said what I said about the doctor and I kilt George Sullivan, and Oi hit the priest and yes, yes we beat the others too. But those were our orders! We couldn’t help it! You gotta believe me! Please, please don’t kill me! Please God help me!” The man reached out to Sean and Jimmy for assistance and knew instantly there would be none.

Julian thought it and the redheaded man heard it and horror gripped his soul,
“God is busy, but I’m here. Listen well and never forget. I will forever be in your head. Do not think about the doctor again because if you ever think of me or mine again you will feel far more than this.”
Julian smiled a hideous smile.

The redheaded attacker went rigid with an uncontrollable, all encompassing panic. His muscles contorted in pulsing, crippling spasms and he screamed as he entered a cyclone of blinding pain. The horror-filled shriek ripped the air and was thereafter known as the loudest sound ever heard in Cappel Vale.

Sean and Jimmy crossed themselves.

The man with red hair and a spider tattoo passed out.

After a comprehensive search for weapons, the assailants were deposited in the cells.

“I suppose we should send for the Garda,” Julian Blessing said.

“I suppose we should send for the doctor,” Jimmy Grogan said.

“I suppose we should go get a pint,” Sean Maher said.

They agreed that before making any difficult decisions, Sean’s suggestion was the best course of action so they secured the prisoners and the police station and headed off to O'Gavagan's Pub.

***

“He seemed to handle that well. A bit rough, but ‘tis understandable. I don’t think he’ll need our help, do you?” Moira said.

“You have done a good job. I feel he will handle the next challenge fine without us,” Bridget answered.

***

Although it was nearly closing time, O’Gavagan’s was still crowded with patrons speculating on the cry the banshee had made. They had all heard the scream, but had decided to have another jar before going out to investigate.

Julian and Sean bellied up to the bar and in uncharacteristically loud voices ordered pints.

“O'Gavagan, old son,” Sean called out. The barman eased over to stand in front of his patrons.

“Big Mike O'Gavagan, it is filled with awe and respect, that much that I have for you, that Oi’m about to impart a tale. This regards me friend and companion, Julian Blessing, and the justice of Almighty God.”

“Go on, Sean Maher, Oi’m listening. But do not keep this between us. We all of us want to hear your tale.”

“Sean,” Julian interrupted, “There is no need to...”

“Tisk, tisk, tisk; Oi’ll have none of your false modesty, ya beautiful and courageous, and should I say saintly, man?” Sean winked at the barman.

Julian resigned himself and looked deeply into his glass. The room had become as still as a church in Lent.

Sean began to speak. He turned and ran an eye over all of his listeners as any good storyteller would. “You know your fine selves what a most terrible beating our Mr. Julian took at the hands of burly toughs, three or mayhaps four, times his size who had trampled our priest in his own church and who desecrated St. Michael’s.”

“’Tis true. Oi know this,” Mike O’Gavagan said and a grumbled assent went round the room.

“Well, this very night the same Mr. Julian, who up to a few weeks ago was a pathetic ruin of a once great man, due to the said beating he received and the severity of his wounds, prevailed against evil. Anyway, through the craftiness born of a long and expensive education, he laid a clever trap for his tormentors knowing that they would come back to finish the job they started.

“Now Oi would like to say Oi put paid to their evil intentions by me, fortuitous…?” he asked Julian, who nodded that was the correct word.

“…Their evil intentions by me fortuitous arrival at the police station this very night. Where’pon, Oi frightened them away. This Oi would state before God – had Oi got hold of them who commit crimes in churches and mistreat me friends, Oi would be having murther in me heart, surely Oi would. Oi would say all this, but being a modest man Oi will refrain.”

Julian blew ale out of his nose and called for a bar towel. Sean looked down upon his friend and sniffed a miffed sniff.

“Anyway, Oi would like to say such is true, but alas ’tisn’t. Our very own Mr. Julian it was and he alone confronted his assailants this very night and like a man, he laid them low.

“Boom, boom!” Sean said as he brought his knee up to groin height fast and hard. “Mr. Julian bollocked two of the henchmen mightily.”

A collective gasp went up around the room as, involuntarily, men moved to protect their privates and exhibited suitably pained expressions.

“That left only the ringleader who knocked down Father Fahey and administered the monstrous beating to poor Mr. Julian. Aye, and who killt entirely our Georgie Sullivan and who beat the others, too he did. And wasn’t it Mr. Julian who subdued the culprit in a flash?” Sean drank deeply from his beer.

The room was thick with a stunned silence as it awaited the next installment. It wasn’t long in coming.

“Why, it was the work of a moment and Mr. Julian fully paralyzed the ringleader so that he was on the ground and could not move for the fear and pain that was on him.

“’Tis then that Oi arrived upon the scene with young Jimmy Grogan. We turned up to assist Mr. Julian, but our assistance would not be needed this night, except for a very minor role Oi meself played, as you will hear. It ’twas that friend Blessing, for he is a friend and a kinsman to us all.” A noisy concurrence went up around the room. Sean looked to Julian. “Where was Oi?”

Julian rolled his eyes and whispered, “’twas that friend Blessing…”

“Ach, aye. ’Twas that friend Blessing destroyed the evil ones altogether and did it faster then it takes to cross yourselves, it was that fast too. How it t’wer done Oi cannot say for in truth, and I am I truthful man, I did not see this happen. But in spades, I saw the aftermath making evidence of the act plain for all to see.

“Oi will tell you it must have been with a restraint the saint would be proud to have, that worse was not done. Aye, restraint Oi say because our Mr. Julian did not murther the man altogether.”

A general agreement circulated again throughout the room.

“To show the wisdom of our Mr. Julian, who is nearly an Irishman for he has that much wisdom and bravery, Mr. Julian says to me, ‘Friend, Sean Maher, you and Jimmy Grogan rest yourselves for Oi have a job of work to do that’ll take but a moment.’

“Well, Mr. Julian, he looks upon the face of evil that is in a state of misery on the ground afore him. The creature has his legs at unnatural angles, which is often the way of evil creatures.

“Our Julian, he just looks at the creature and before a heartbeat can pass the beast is beggin’ us to hear his confession. ’Twas a lengthy confession too considerin’ all the pain that was on him.”

“Rightly so…” the pub patrons and the landlord agreed.

“Well, after the nasty insect owned up to his sins, Mr. Julian, he just continues to look at the monster. Due to his moral superiority and having right on his side, ’twas that look alone that Mr. Julian employed that caused the monumental howl to rise up from the fiend. And that was the wail you all heard this very night. So much is the power of good over evil.” The patrons shivered with the memory.

Julian let his head fall back as he looked at the ceiling and shook his head.

Sean continued, “‘Aye, Sean Maher,’ says Mr. Julian, ‘get Jimmy Grogan to help you deposit these swine behind bars. As both of you are Christians you have nothing to fear from these wicked persons. To the cells with ‘em,’ says he to me.

“Oi, meself and Jimmy Grogan too did witness these deeds as God Almighty is the judge of us all and ’twas we who deposited hell’s imps in the cells of the police station this very night in Cappel Vale.

“And that is me story, Mike O'Gavagan.”

“A better tale there could not be – nor a better or more truthful storyteller as we all know.” Big Mike cast a questioning eye over the crowd and they quickly agreed. Each patron was already planning his rewrite of history. “And proud it is I am to be able to call you – and Mr. Julian – me friends,” the barman said

Julian whispered slowly, “I know it is your pub, Big Mike, but step to the end of the bar if you would.”

“Julian?” Sean looked puzzled.

“Mr. O'Gavagan, I said step to the end of the bar. Do it now, please.” Julian’s tone of voice was calm and low and allowed no further discussion. The barman backed away and looked troubled.

The pub’s front door squealed on its hinges and filling the doorway was a very large man with a cloth cap and a shotgun. Without turning away from the bar Julian shook his head, smiled slightly and said in a clear voice that silenced the room, “Welcome Mr. Lynch. Would you join us for a drink?”

“You two!” Lynch bellowed.

***

There was a clear path from the front door to the bar. The barman reached slowly for the shotgun he kept under the bar.

“Enough of that, O’Gavagan,” Lynch said and motioned for the barman to back away. “Everybody back up and take a seat,” Lynch said. “These two and Oi are goin’ to take a walk.”

Sean was calculating the distance and began to balance on the balls of his feet. Julian too was calculating. He knew Lynch had his finger wrapped tightly around the trigger of the shotgun. The barrel came up a fraction of an inch and was pointed squarely at Sean.

“Maher, Oi know you by reputation and you’re a good fightin’ man to be sure. Unless you want your wife to be a widow and your children to be orphans, Oi would stay right where you are. As sure as there is a God in heaven and as sure as you have my men locked in your jail, Oi will spread your guts all over the wall if you move.”

“Sean,” Julian said still with his back to the intruder, “as Mr. Lynch won’t join us, let us drink our drinks without him.” Sean was reluctant to take his eyes off the man with the shotgun.

The thought came to Sean in Julian’s voice
, “Sean, turn around and drink your drink. It would be such a shame to let good beer go to waste, no?”

Sean turned slowly to the bar and whispered to Julian, “When we are both killt altogether, it is me hope God remembers which of us is the Christian and which of us is not.”

“Turn around! The three of us’ll be going now,” Lynch said.

“Sadly, I don’t think so,” Julian responded.

“Don’t play the silly arse with me!” the man roared.

“Why don’t you set your shotgun down?” Julian turned, rested against the bar and looked at Lynch.

“Why don’t I kill you? There are those who would pay me handsomely. You are not very well liked.”

“I have been told that in the past, although,” Julian turned, smiled at the pub’s patrons and continued, “not in a long time now.”

To a man, the room stood slowly. Chairs and benches chalked the floor. Julian held up a hand and the other patrons stopped moving and waited.

“Don’t do this,” Julian said to Lynch. “It isn’t worth it.” Julian was no longer looking into Thomas Lynch’s face. His focus had moved to the muzzle of the shotgun.

“Oi have me orders. Now let’s go and get me men.”

Tom Lynch looked alarmed. He looked down at the shotgun in his hands. The barrels were beginning to glow bright red and the stock was getting hot. He felt the words.

Julian’s thought was calm, clear, and emphatic.
“Do you have orders to die where you stand tonight? You see, your weapon is going to explode in your hands in five, four, three, two,,,”

Thomas Lynch stepped down the shotgun’s exposed hammers and the weapon clattered to the floor.

Julian turned to Sean who, like the other patrons, stood in stunned silence. With a mad grin, Julian said, “Was that cool or what! I never get tired of that sort of thing.”