Part 34

The walls were almost solid enough to block out the surrounding fields. David could see stars through the ceiling, but just barely. The closer objects... the floor and furnishings... were indistinguishable from solid matter, save for their tendency to flutter every few seconds.

"...wow..."

Thule continued to chant, and David realized that they weren't alone. The humanoid shadow that had washed over him was now a solid shape: a man, younger and thinner, but taller than Lowell Vern. He stood beside the window, peeking out without standing directly in front of it. The window presented two views of the land surrounding the house... one of the abandoned, moonlit fields that David and the Pilgrim had passed through on their way in, and the other of those same fields, now well-kept and bearing crops beneath a nearly moonless sky.

"I don't see anything," said the man. He backed away from the window, then turned to stare directly at David.

"I-"

"But that doesn't mean they're not coming! If we're going to make it out of here, we've got to go now!"

"But go WHERE?"

The second voice came from behind David. He turned, and found the true targets of the man's concerned, almost pleading gaze.

There was a woman. and three children... a boy and a girl both David's age, and an infant that the woman clutched protectively in her arms. The girl looked like her mother, but the boy didn't look like either of them. Yet, there was something familiar about his face...

"I should go," said the boy. "I can go back. I can go back and they'll leave you alone!"

"No you can't, and no they won't," said the man. He joined his family in the center of the small house and looked down at them. "Trust me, boy. I can... WE can get you out of this."

"But Thomas," the woman said tentatively. The baby squirmed in her grasp. David saw the woman's arms trembling. "This is... this is IT. If we help-"

"We ARE helping him. We've stood by too long. We've... gods... we benefitted from this for years! YEARS, Maga! Our hands are as bloody as-"

"Daddy?" the girl looked up and her father. She'd been clutching the bottom of her mother's skirt, but now she let go and reached out...

...not to her father, but to the boy beside her. She held his hand tightly.

"I'll help," she said firmly. "I'm ready to go."

Thomas nodded. There was no smile on his face, but the lines of worry twitched and loosened slightly-

-and that was when the door caved inward, ripping free of its hinges as three dirty, hulking figures stormed into the house.