Peter Grist - Flashback

Strong arms wrapped themselves around the boy like a vice. He felt himself lifted from the floor as if he weighed nothing at all; he kicked his legs as if he was still running. The arms got tighter, with the last of his breath Josh parted his lips ready to scream for his pop. “Daaa…” another hand clamped tightly over the boy’s mouth, cutting short the scream. A third hand, an alien with lots of hands, can’t breathe… can’t… breathe!

“Josh! Sssh, calm down, please Josh, be quiet? Buster ease up a bit; put him down.”

Buster gently let the boy back down to earth but didn’t let him go.

“Josh! It’s me Ed Saunders, remember, I came round for supper last night.”

He could still feel the boy wriggling, but not as manically as a few seconds ago. Ed relaxed his hand but didn’t remove it from Josh’s mouth. With his other hand gently stroking the boy’s head, Ed’s quiet, soothing voice continued to try and calm Linda’s traumatised son. Eventually, the boy’s squirming stopped completely. Buster let go with his arms but held the boy firmly at the elbows.

“Josh, we came to find you, your mom sent us. Are you okay now?” In the half-light from the doorway Ed saw the boy nod his head. “No more screaming or running, agreed?”

The boy nodded again.

“Promise?”

Another nod.

“Okay, good boy, now my friend Buster here is going to take you back to our vehicle in the woods. You got to be as quiet as a mouse Josh, d’ya understand me son? Quiet as a mouse, we don’t want the fella that took you to hear us leave, right?”

Josh nodded again, Ed could see the kid was still terrified but his composure was returning fast.

“Buster, take him back the way we came, be careful through the fence, I just got a little decorating job I need to do then I’ll join you.”

“Yes boss, no problem, quiet as a mouse.” He gently led the boy out, pausing at the door to make sure the coast was clear then they were gone from view. Ed moved back to the door and picked up the pot of paint and the flashlight where he had laid them when they had entered the barn. Staying in the barn he pushed the small door so that it was almost closed then pushed the button to switch on the flashlight. Keeping the beam low he swiftly swept the light around the barn to see what else was inside. It held no farming machinery, no vehicles and no animals; the place was almost bare, bare except for what Ed saw at the far end. The stalls finished to leave a wider area at the back with a few old sacks of grain stacked up in the left corner and a workshop bench to the right. Above the bench sat old tools; rusty saws, scythes, hammers and animal traps hung from wooden pegs and rusty hooks attached to the wall. Amongst all the corroded junk sat a well-polished and sharpened axe, the blade reflecting brightly the beam of his torch. He shuddered but nothing in his imagination could have prepared him for what he saw as he beamed the light around to play across the back wall. He took several steps closer, not believing his eyes. The back wall was covered in a burgundy coloured velvet curtain that stretched at least twenty foot high and another thirty foot wide. He played the beam of light around until it came to rest in the middle of the cloth. At its centre was a golden insignia that looked like a multi-spoked wheel but each of the twelve spokes had a kink in it like a runic lightning bolt that reminded Ed of the Nazi swastika. To his reckoning, the outer rim must have measured at least six foot across. He placed the paint back on the ground and stepped further into the barn. The roof beams at that end had been covered in swaths of canvas that streamed down to the side of the barn, giving the place the look of a tabernacle. The thin beam of light caught something sparkling below the motif and as he panned down he was stunned by what he saw. Nothing could have looked more incongruous in an old barn than what presented itself.

Beneath the gold emblem stood a raised dais. Reluctantly Ed continued to move forward, drawn by the bizarre sight, wanting to get a clearer picture, hoping he wasn’t seeing what he thought he could see. He hoped he was looking at a workbench, or an old kitchen unit, anything. Now he was just a few feet from the raised sanctuary he could see the area measured maybe 20-foot square and covered in a deep blue thick pile carpet. At the centre stood a large marble tomb-like tablet that reflected the light from Ed’s flashlight. The image of sacrificial altars jumped into his head. Not believing his own eyes he glanced back behind him into the darkness of the barn then tentatively stepped up onto the platform. The marble table was longer than Ed was tall and close on to being 7 foot long and 3 foot wide. He stepped towards it and laid a hand on the cold stone. At the centre sat a velvet cloth covering something. He pulled the cover back to reveal a copper-colour chalice that had toppled over and a long ceremonial dagger with an ivory handle inlaid with the same symbol from the curtain, the blade glinted menacingly in the beam of the light. But this wasn’t what disturbed Ed the most. At each corner of the tablet sat a set of chain links that finished with a manacle. The marble itself sank near the centre and had precise two-inch slots cut in to it. He walked around to the side nearest the curtain. A foot below the top was an opening in the side large enough to take the chalice. He knelt down and shone the light up into the cavity; some of the light came through the slots in the top. They were drain holes. He shivered involuntarily and was glad that Buster hadn’t seen this monstrosity. He’d seen enough, he replaced the cloth, jumped down from the platform and ran for the door.

Ed picked up the pot of paint, clicked off the light then slowly opened the wood door just a fraction. He peered outside across the yard towards the house. He stood motionless, looking into the shadows, looking for anyone that might be watching him. After a long minute, he was as confident as he could be that he wasn’t under surveillance so he crept quietly from the barn towards the house.

Josh and Buster made it back to the fence where they were helped through by John and George, who even in the dark looked paler to Buster than ten minutes ago. “What happen to you two, you’s looking real sick?”

“Tell you when we get back to the truck,” replied John, “where the hell is the other guy, Ed?”

“He right behin’ us, he comin’, jus’ got a piece o’ decoratin’ to do, let’s get the boy away from this place, it feels bad to me.” John and George glanced at each other, dropped their heads and grunted their agreement. George lead the way back the way they had come from the pick-up. Buster carried Josh most of the way as if he weighed nothing at all, back at the truck he put Josh in the front center seat then George slid in next to him, just in case the boy lost his nerve and tried to make a run for it. John climbed in behind the wheel. Buster scanned the trees, looking for Ed. For all of them the wait seemed immense and felt like hours but after just a few minutes Buster saw Ed Saunders coming through at a steady jog. Ed dumped the paint pot and brush in the bed of the Ram then poked his head through the open passenger window and spoke to the boy. “You okay Josh?” The boy stared down at his lap but nodded his head. “Okay, let’s get you out of here before all hell breaks loose; let’s go John, but quietly ‘til we get a little ways down the road.”

“Sure thing.” He replied as he turned the ignition. Buster was already standing in the bed and gave Ed a helping hand up. They settled down as John turned around as near to silent as you can get with a Dodge Ram, just using tick-over speed, then headed for the county road. No one spoke a word.