A Gathering of Crows

“Where are we?”

“We’re at Mrs. Laudry’s bed-and-breakfast,” Marsha told him. “You passed out on the sidewalk. Do you remember? You were getting ready to tell me something about Mom and Dad.”

His expression darkened. “Oh.”

“Randy, what happened? What’s wrong?”

He sat up slowly and stared at his hands in his lap.

Marsha put her arm around him. Donny sat down next to her on the other side of the couch and took her free hand in his. When Randy looked up at her again, fresh tears brimmed in his eyes. He spoke slowly at first, halting between words. His voice was monotone. Emotionless. But then the words began to spill out of him. He shuddered and his throat worked as if what he had to say was choking him. He told them everything that had happened—the power going out, the crow on the patio that had turned into a man, the murder of his parents, the strange effect the spilled salt had on the killer, his escape with Stephanie and Sam, what they’d seen driving through town, the strange graffiti on the hanging tree, Sam and Stephanie’s death, the invisible barrier and the dead birds. When he was finished, he broke down into uncontrollable sobs, leaned forward and buried his face in his sister’s lap. She wrapped her arms around him, lay her cheek against his back and shared his grief. Donny rubbed her back and tried to comfort them both.

“That poor boy,” Myrtle whispered. “Those poor children. Randy and Marsha are good kids, and their parents were fine people. This is such a shame.”

“It’s terrible.” Esther nodded in agreement. “What do you think really happened, Levi?”

He glanced up at them, appearing distracted.

“I’m sorry?”

“Out there. What do you think really happened with Randy tonight?”

“I think it happened exactly like he told us.”

Esther flinched. “But some of the things he said, birds changing into humans and invisible force fields . . .”

“You haven’t been outside. We have. I believe the boy is telling the truth. In fact, I know he is. We’ve seen some of the same things he saw.”

Myrtle grew pale. “Is it the apocalypse? Are these demons?”

“I don’t know what they are yet. That’s what I need to figure out.”

They fell silent again and listened to Marsha and Randy weep.

***

Levi folded his fingers into a steeple, closed his eyes and concentrated. Randy’s sudden appearance outside had badly distracted him. The youth clearly had the gift, but seemed almost completely oblivious to it. In some ways, Levi envied him for that. He thought back to when he was Randy’s age—that fateful summer when everything had changed and he’d learned just what high a price magic had—and wished that he’d been oblivious, as well. Maybe if he hadn’t known, things would be different. Maybe the girl he had loved would still be alive. Maybe he’d still have a home, a real home, with people who welcomed him and a family that he could always turn to, no matter how bad things got.

He needed to focus. Growing maudlin over the past wouldn’t help their present situation. What did he know so far? Brinkley Springs had been attacked by supernatural entities with the ability to change shape. They had appeared as both a crow and human. In their human guise, they appeared clad in antiquated, Puritan-style clothing. Their speech was a curious mix: outdated colloquialisms mixed with more modern terms and slang. They had inhuman strength, speed and abilities. They were systematically slaughtering every living thing. They devoured their victims’ souls, leaving an empty husk behind, as a locust in summer leaves its desiccated shell clinging to a tree. Their victims’ bodies turned to dust shortly after death, leaving no trace save for a small pile of ash.

Levi shuddered at the thought of such a fate. To have one’s soul eaten, to lose all sense of self or being, to not travel to the levels and planes of existence beyond this one, to become the sum total of null with no chance of ever being reborn or reconstituted— that was the worst fate he could imagine. Better to end up in hell than to be completely eradicated.

What else did he know? The entities seemed impervious to various workings and magical disciplines. His binding spell had been only partially effective, serving to slow his antagonist down rather than actually binding it to his will. They’d sealed off Brinkley Springs from the outside world by means of a mystical barrier, which would have taken an enormous force of will and an incredible amount of energy to construct. It was possible that the barrier was some sort of soul cage, though Levi had never heard of one so massive in size. It was a stunning achievement. And then, finally, there was the word Randy had seen carved into the trunk of a tree— Croatoan. It was obvious from their reactions that Randy, Marsha, Donny, Esther and Myrtle hadn’t recognized the word or its significance, but Levi did. He just didn’t know how it fit into all of this.

Yet.

Croatoan. The word had several different meanings, and not all of them were related to occult lore. At best, it was a location and nothing more, but Levi was fairly certain its association with tonight’s events was something more sinister.

He opened his eyes, unfolded his fingers and cleared his throat. The others all turned to him.

“The highway leading into town . . . How many cars and trucks use it at night?”

“Not many,” Donny said. “Traffic is usually pretty light at night. Maybe one or two cars and a few tractor trailers all night long. That’s it.”

“But a few will pass through?”

“Yeah, probably. Why?”

“I’m thinking about this barrier that Randy told us about,” Levi said. “We can’t leave—can’t contact the outside world. But if an oncoming car hits it, and the driver is uninjured or able to call for help, others might become aware of our situation.”

Myrtle sat up straight. “Can we hold out until then?”

Levi shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Does that mean you have a better idea of what’s going on?”

“Perhaps,” Levi answered. “At the very least, I’m starting to connect the dots. How many of you have heard of Roanoke?”

“I’ve been there many times,” Esther said. “They have some lovely antique shops.”

Marsha nodded. “It’s not that far from here. Just over the border in Virginia.”

“I don’t mean the city of Roanoke. I’m talking about the original version—Roanoke Island. Are any of you familiar with it?”

Donny, Marsha and Randy shook their heads. Esther frowned.

“Oh.” Myrtle snapped her fingers. “That’s where all those people disappeared, back during the colonial days, right?”

“Correct. At least, partially. This Roanoke, unlike the Roanoke you were all referring to, is an island off the coast of North Carolina.”

“I know that place,” Donny said. “It sits right off of Highway 64. We passed through there on our way to the Outer Banks.”

“And if you blinked,” Levi replied, “then you probably missed it. In many ways, Roanoke is much like Brinkley Springs. It’s small—about eighteen square miles—and it’s fairly remote, even with the highway access. I’d guess less than seven thousand people live there, and many of them are probably seasonal.”

“I don’t know,” Donny said. “I seem to remember there were a lot of tourists there when we went through. Of course, it was summer and all.”

“Oh, no doubt there were tourists. Roanoke is a historical site, after all. As Myrtle said, it was a place of some importance in this country’s past. But . . . I also think it might have some significance concerning tonight’s events.”

Marsha leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

“Bear with me. It’s a long story, but I’ll do my best to be brief. Near the end of the sixteenth century, the English tried several times to establish a permanent settlement on Roanoke Island. Had their attempts been successful, Roanoke would have been the first English colony in the New World. Keep in mind that this was before the American Revolution, of course, and the English had claimed the area as their own. In fact, at the time, there