Chapter Sixteen
Ripple effects.
Like throwing a stone in a still body of water, an individual’s actions reverberate through life. A manufacturing plant manager laying off workers with a stroke of a pen to pad the compensation of the company executives affected those workers’ families, their wives and children. A slip down the economic ladder could mean hard times both financially and psychologically. In the mind of a child, that slip could mean a drastic change in their future that would, in turn, affect their future partners, their future children, and anybody whose lives they touched. Likewise, the choices one made upon deciding whether or not to enter college had similar effects. Choose the wrong major and stay with it for the wrong reasons and one could end up a lonely, bitter, angry person who, in turn, could affect everybody they touched in their lives.
So it was with magic.
And it did not concern the forces beyond who bestowed the practitioner of magic with their dark boons.
Their job was to grant the magician their wish.
No more, no less.
The ritual performed by Gordon Smith had been set to do its deed. The elements had fallen into place; the correct words had been spoken.
And the dark forces had answered.
And like all things, the ripple effect was in motion.
Flowing through the netherworld tide it reverberated, echoed. It sank into the ground, gathering strength through the ebbs and flows. It had been strong enough to reanimate and take possession of Neal Ashford when his lifeless, beaten body was buried in the consecrated ground and its strength was still present when Roger Gahan (who had lost his wallet two nights before being kidnapped by Scott Bradfield and his crew) was kidnapped, murdered and buried in the same spot. Building on its initial strength, and the new power it found through its simple task, that strength spread. It seeped through the ground, touching everything that had died and sunk into the earth. It moved slowly, creeping in a manner that was transparent to human perception.
A colony of ants killed by an invading colony was the first. Reanimated, the ants moved around sluggishly, as if confused in their destroyed labyrinths.
Farther in the woods the carcass of a mole, dead of a heart attack, was reanimated by the force’s power. It burrowed through the ground, still forever blind, searching for something that it could not comprehend.
The leaves of the trees overhead stirred. Birds in flight began to avoid the consecrated spot. Likewise, animals normally found in this section of the woods — deer, foxes, rodents, snakes — began to instinctively steer clear of it.
And the power slowly spread, reaching outward. Touching and awakening more dead life forms, calling them forth.
It was Wednesday morning and Tim Gaines was reclining on the leather sofa in the living room watching the news. He was tired. Last night, he’d gone out with Chelsea on his first date with her — she’d actually driven them into Lancaster to the Manor Theater to see the new Chronicles of Narnia movie. It had been a pleasant evening and thinking back on it sent tingles of pleasure through Tim. Even though it was pretty much common knowledge that they were attracted to each other, there was still that awkwardness between them. That all evaporated after the movie, when Chelsea parked her car in the community guest parking lot of his development and they talked. It had been so easy to talk to her now that the barrier between them was crumbling. He felt comfortable with her; still nervous, but comfortable. So when conversation abruptly died in mid sentence and the silence threatened to bridge that gap again, Chelsea had leaned forward quickly and kissed him.
And Tim had surprised himself by kissing her back.
He’d never kissed a girl before and he was surprised to find that his body just seemed to know what to do. From the gentle embraces, to the movement of lips and mouth, teeth and tongue, to the way he responded to her touches, her kisses, everything just came to him. The stirring in his groin was a natural reaction to that very physical coming together of their bodies, and Tim felt a momentary burst of panic. He didn’t want Chelsea to have the wrong impression of him; he wasn’t like all those other guys that lived only to get into a girl’s pants and then dump them. He wanted this to be special!
At the same time, he wanted her so badly.
And he sensed that Chelsea knew this.
And she responded accordingly.
She’d pressed herself against him and he could feel her breasts against his shirt. That only made him more crazy, more responsive to her touch, her caresses, her kisses. He let himself go, gave up control to his body’s instincts and expressed his desire for her through his own touch.
He didn’t know how long they made out in her car but at some point she stopped and held him. Tim opened his eyes, noted that the windows of the car were steamed up and he smiled. Chelsea told him that she should go — her curfew was midnight and it was already eleven-thirty. She started the car, rolled down the windows, laughing at the fact that they were steamed up. Tim had laughed too and she backed the car out of the parking slot and drove the dozen houses down to his condo unit and pulled up in front of it. She told him she’d talk to him tomorrow morning. He told her that would be great. They kissed one more time, quick, but still passionate, and then he was out of the car and heading toward the front door, feeling a momentary sense of panicked embarrassment.
But those fears were laid to rest when he entered the house and saw his mom reclining on the sofa, the TV on, her eyes half shut. She’d looked up at him wearily, asked how his evening was and he’d smiled and said fine. Then he’d gone upstairs.
Where he’d stayed and relived the moment in the privacy of his bedroom.
And didn’t fall asleep.
At some point Mom came upstairs to bed. Tim went downstairs quietly, turned on the TV, and sat down in the darkened living room. His excitement was fueling his wakefulness and he could not go to sleep. He channel- surfed for a while, then headed to the kitchen for a snack.
A light tap on the sliding glass door caught his attention.
Chelsea was on the back deck. When she saw Tim, she grinned.
Tim had quietly opened the back door and before he had a chance to ask what she was doing, Chelsea was in his arms.
Somehow they kept quiet. And when it was over and they were re-arranging their clothes, Chelsea gave him a quick kiss, told him she just couldn’t help it, she had to come back. Tim had grinned back, told her he hadn’t been able to keep her out of his mind since she’d dropped him off, and then she was leaving out the back door. He watched her shadowy figure dance across the yard and between the utility shed his father had built and the fence that bordered their property with the neighboring house, then down the common area to where he knew the guest parking for the development was located. A moment later he heard a car engine start. Only then did Tim close the back door.
And now it was the following morning and Tim had relived his evening with Chelsea too many times to count. Everything about the date was perfect; the physical expression of their feelings toward each other last night had been the icing on the cake. Preceding that had been their conversation at the theater and in the car, where they’d talked about everything. School, their families, friends. Tim had brought her up on the latest in the investigation. How the police still hadn’t pressed formal criminal charges against him, or George and Al, but on the advice of their attorney they were on a sort of house arrest. Chelsea had raised an eyebrow at that and asked if he was on house arrest, why did his parents let him go to the movies with her? Tim could only shrug and grin. “I guess as long as they know we’re going to the movies, they’re cool with it.”
In reality, the house arrest wasn’t mandatory, but was suggested until their attorney could get the police to drop the investigation or file charges. Should something else happen in the interim, it was important they had firm alibis, and if they could verify they were at home, so much the better. It made sense.
It also kept them safe.
