The Forgotten God

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Kyle remained silent as his legs moved without thought, impelled on by the whim and will of the God, hidden from sight amongst the shadow.

'The blind following the blind.'

His mother would have said. Refusing to use the comparison to lemmings, saying it was an insult to a creature who she thought were rather intelligent,

Doubts and irritations circled his mind like dust in a coalmine and the fight to keep them away was intense. The beast could most likely decipher any slander against him or sense those qualms that could lead to betrayal. He already dreaded what they would return to.

Babi had given his ordered in shrill dictation, leaving no room to argue or suggest any alternative. Kyle was to follow in the footsteps of the dead ones and Aiden was to find some way of sending word to the thugs who fed his habit.

He had grinned at the pair as they unconsciously shared an uneasy look.

"They will come and obey. If they know what is good for them," he reached out and scraped a layer of skin from Aiden's forehead, the red mark wrinkling immediately with bemusement. "Show them that, and tell them it is a sign of power beyond their own."

Aiden touched his forehead, the scrape warm under his fingertips. The sting momentarily distracting him from the mess that had once been his leg.

He was about to ask how a simple scratch could prove anything but noticed Kyle's look of warning, the stern, almost invisible shake of his head.

"I can try. They won't be far from their normal hideout," he muttered "they'd be safe if an atomic bomb hit us. Gotta have that sort of protection to keep the cops off."

"They have not faced the wrath of a God, all the locks and bolts in the world will not save one from the rage of the divine," Babi sneered "nor the plague of a pesky spirit. Only those who know the symbols and rituals have any sway over those, the latter anyway."

Kyle looked down, nodding in unhappy agreement. He froze as he felt the rough fur brush his cheek as Babi leaned close.

"Bear with me, mortal. You must lose things to gain your desires. The more you obey, the less you are likely to lose, understand?"

The words were soft but the icy threat was clear. Kyle's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard and Babi snorted, patting his shoulder in terse dismissal, making it clear he was done with him.

Briefly their eyes met and for one moment Kyle feared he would fare the same as Lot's wife, or of Semele when she met the gaze of Zeus. The intensity of power that radiated from the narrow slits stilled the soul itself.

"Yes..." Kyle whispered barely, his knees weakening "master."

---

Decaying skin peeled from the knuckles as the female hammered weakly on the door, b****y stains remaining smeared on the once pristine paint.

A grunt left the airless throat as she continued, the futility of her task not registering, only the scent beyond and the commands given resonated in her mind.

Ash watched the door rattle, not too concerned as yet. It was the sound of other dragging feet in the near distance that worried him.

One or two were of little consequence, but a small horde would be far more difficult.

"Maybe we should let them in?" He offered aloud "maybe it's something in here they want, not us?"

Mr Montford shook his head, his skull throbbing from the mix of injury and tension. The entire world seemed to be in a tunnel, the sides of his eyes blurred and sparkling with static that echoed in his ears.

"Not worth it. Even if that is true, is it wise to allow them what they might have been sent for?" He looked up weakly "should we allow the end of days so easily?"

"I guess not," Ash scuffed his trainers on the floor "let's be grateful that zombies are easy to get rid of."

"How'd you know?" Marie said crisply. She leaned her back against the door, holding fast to the handle as she scoured the room for something to jamb under it. "I know in films they can be, but this isn't a film. These things are already dead and working on something beyond our comprehension. They'd be easier to understand if they were the result of a Haiti ritual."

Grabbing one of the chairs set against the wall, Ash winced as the feet screeched as he dragged it over, adding to the barricade. He had questioned the idea of having the hefty benches and seats when cheaper school ones would have done just as well. Now he was glad Mr Montford, and the owners, had insisted on the higher quality for aesthetic appeal.

"I'm just hoping," he smiled and her rich eyes softened. "Even in those rituals it's something to do with the brain. I assume if you destroy that, or maybe even the heart, it would finish any life residue."

"Perhaps."

Marie sounded uncertain. Her parents had tried to instil a blend of spiritual and logical into her as a child. Giving her the rare gift of appreciating the scientific and yet accepting that life was more than what one could see and touch. Allowing for long reverie's mulling over the mysteries, and often giving herself a headache in doing so. It didn't prepare her for anything like this though.

She forced a smile and looked towards Mr Montford, trying to keep concern from her eyes. The man looked grey and his energy seemed to be seeping away before them.

"You're going to have to give me one big bonus if you need all this cleaning up," she joked softly, returning to his side. "It will incur some overtime."

A single breath caught in his throat, mimicking a chuckle. He turned the amulets in his hand, saving what little adrenaline he had left.

---

Isaac awoke as a crash echoed through the rooms, jarring him from the enforced sleep. He sat up hurriedly, scrambling to catch hold of the cover before he fell to the floor.

Cautiously he edged to peer through the c***k in the door. A shadow was hobbling about on long, gangly legs, looking about with interest.

"A bird," he breathed in relief and slid from the sheets, padding over softly to open the door. The ibis started, flapping its wings at the sudden appearance and squawking indignantly.

Not all of Thoth's birds were brave and bold. Some, like Ini-herit, were quick but overly so. Not too bright, the bird had dashed away before Thoth could finish explaining his task. He was fortunate that the bird had allowed the paper and pen to be tied to its leg before taking to the air.

Even more fortunate the loose knot hadn't come undone.

"I suppose your guardian wants an update?" Isaac asked, feeling rather foolish in talking to a bird. "Well, I can try. My dreams have been odd, but I don't think they've really revealed anything yet, except..." He met the birds knowing gaze. Perhaps another old soul transported to a new body?

Giving a small smile, Isaac took the pen, not knowing what exactly to write down. Word by word, image by image, would be too long. Thoth had not sent much, fearing the bird would lose it or find it hard to fly.

He meant for only the most important snippets to be noted down but, in Isaac's mind, it all had some significance.

With some difficulty, aware that Am-Heh could return without warning, he wrote several, untidy paragraphs, trying as best he could to be concise and clear. It all looked like a twisted cobweb though, matted and befogged and almost impossible to see through.

"I still don't understand this," he muttered to himself "this link...these feelings. It's all a whirlpool and I don't know if I can swim out. Or even if I want to. The further it drags me..."

He shook his head, hurriedly scribbling. The bird looked on, watching the movement of the pen with interest. For a second its eyes shifted, looking strangely at Isaac and giving a soft cooing sound. He didn't need to be intelligent to feel compassion. Sometimes the less bright were the kindest.

Isaac filled the paper, knowing he could fill sheets more, adding a small note that he had included what he could but so much had been enacted in his mind, it was like a grand performance that could not be written up or even caught on film properly. Every shimmering tile had seemed pivotal, each faceless shade.

And he could never explain the emotion. The awe and burning desires that smouldered like the very sands he had once walked upon.

"I'd love to say I'm being an arse and imagining things," he sighed, carefully twisting the paper and tying it to the birds' leg, resting a hand near its wing as it threatened to take off before secured. "But my imagination was never that good, I tried to go by logic. The only stories I used to tell were conjured by my amulet, and they were pretty daft. Child's play, you know?" He chuckled softly, a smile smoothing his lips. "It wasn't about Egypt either, my friends and I used to imagine it was the lost jewel of Mogan LeFey and we were the brave knights sent to retrieve it." The smile widened. "Without the lovey dovey stuff, of course. We didn't need ladies holding us up, only brave women ready to fight for the cause."

His friend's sisters had taken those roles. It was almost sad to think of those days now, faded away and those wild stories lost for good.

"Hurry," he scooted back, suddenly serious. "I'm jabbering. If we don't hurry then they'll be no more tales, true or false, at all. There won't be anyone to tell them."

He watched as the bird departed with a trill whistle before staring at the floor, pushing his thoughts away from the confused melee within him.

Delayed hormones. That was how he normally described it. He'd seen Ash go through them a number of times when a leggy brunette or dusky blonde walked past wearing a skirt that barely covered her thighs. Only to look away hurriedly when she glared at him.

('Can't see the issue! They do the same when they see a guy in tight trousers. And I'm looking, hardly yelling or catcalling.')

"I need to know more before I dwell on this crap," Isaac muttered, looking down through the sheer tile at the world below "This could all be some convoluted plot I'm dreaming of and I'm reading too deeply. I've read enough myths and legends to know that happens all the time."

His trailed off with a soft chuckle. Apparently, he couldn't even convince himself.

--

The dead were beginning to gather, and Am-Heh watched with cool interest. They were weak. Not like the warriors of the underworld, or even the pauper soldiers.

But they would get what he needed. Already the door was beginning to splinter and their jowls were slavering at the scent of meat.

He could have commanded them to leave those within alive. They would do as he bid them. But the mortal world had spurned and scorned him and, even if those guilty were long gone, they would all still pay.

It was only when his view was taken over to the alleyways, even from far away he could sense the odour of fermenting rubbish merged with stale urine, that he felt a shiver of unease.

His gaze pulled from the birds-eye view and looked up, a frown clouding his eyes. He was uncertain whether the chill came from above or down below but the former needed to be investigated first.

"I cannot afford any disruption," he said as a soft mist rose about him. He looked longingly back at the city, yearning to see the outcome of his endeavour.

As he started to fade, he gritted his teeth, spitting out a short, crisp curse. If he could not witness his doing then he could at least make it worse.

"Smite them down with frost and fire

Make the waters rise higher.

They will burn and they will

For an anger they'll not appease."

Above the sky turned an eerie pink as hail and comets brewed in the bellies of the swollen clouds. Several splinters of ice fell free, etched and unique like the snowflakes of winter, and just as brief in their existence, melting before the ground touched them.

A growl of thunder rolled the sky, light shimmering maliciously along the rims of the cloud, foretelling the chaos that would shortly follow.