The Golem Part 29

"And like Kabbalists used to use for prayers of exorcism and warding spells. It was in our bas.e.m.e.nt, and I have reason to believe that the head of Gavriel Lowen is buried in our bas.e.m.e.nt, too."

Croter tensed. "Really, miss, I don't know what you're talking about, and I'm busy right now, so-"

Next, Judy held up the note. "You put this in our mailbox last night. I want to know why."

Croter paled, stammering, "You're crazy! I never-"

"I saw you, Mr. Croter. You pulled up"-she pointed to the blue Pontiac in the gravel drive-"in that car. Last night. While some ritual was taking place in the clearing out in the fields."

Croter slumped. "I guess you better come in."

Judy followed him inside, immediately noticing several suitcases set out. "Going on a trip?"

"I'm leaving town," he said, and sat down hard on the couch. He sipped from a gla.s.s, next to which stood a tall bottle of whiskey. "I dropped my son off at my ex-wife's earlier today-they think I'm going to a Realtor convention. But what I'm really going to do is disappear." He looked up. "Where did you find the mezuzah?"

"It was in a hidden room in the bas.e.m.e.nt, along with several bone fragments that are covered with clay. I've seen the clearing, the headless dogs, and opened graves of people dismembered. Tell me what's happening."

Croter's voice cracked. "I-G.o.d! I can't! It could mean my life..."

"Asher Lowen isn't really a Kabbalist, is he? He's part of a secret Kischuph sect."

Croter paused, "Yes. And originally...so was I..." The words pulled Judy's gaze away.

"Just get out!" he cracked back. "That's what I'm doing! You've got no choice!"

"It was Asher Lowen who stole the clay, wasn't it? Clay from the Vltava River in Prague."

"Two of his grunt-workers, yes."

Judy pictured the physical characteristics of her two rapists. "A muscular bald man, and a skinny one with long hair and probably a beard or goatee?"

He seemed surprised. "D-Man and Nutjob's what they're called. I don't know their real names. They're drug dealers."

Tell me about it, Judy thought.

"How did you know?"

"They're the ones who wanted me to find the mezuzah," she said, "and the skull-so I figured they had to be the ones who stole the clay, too."

"That clay was originally purchased by Asher's ancestor, Gavriel Lowen-"

"A descendant of Judah Loew." Judy put the pieces together. "The rabbi who defended his town in 1580 by making a golem with clay from the same river. But Judah Loew was a Kabbalist, a benevolent scholar and man of G.o.d."

"Gavriel was the first of his descendants to turn heretic. He sold his soul to S'mol and became a sorcerer who mastered the blackest arts of the Kischuph. And Asher Lowen is his direct heir." Croter looked hopelessly to the ceiling. "Everyone in Lowensport today is related to the handful of infant survivors from the slaughter of 1880, me included."

Judy finally sat down, to listen intently. "Tell me about the golems."

"In 1880, Gavriel made two golems by means of a Kischuph rite, but his townspeople only had a small amount of clay, so they had to cut the flesh off the two bodies. He reasoned that these first two golems would suffice to fortify them against the Conner scourge until larger amounts of the clay arrived, but the earthquake prevented that from ever happening. Gavriel was killed when his lumber mill was dynamited. Two golems were made but only one was destroyed in the blast."

Judy's voice lowered to a fearful suboctave. "What happened to the second one?"

"It's here, in town, at Asher's Yeshiva. It's always been here. He's been using it to kill people, rival drug dealers mainly."

Judy winced. "Asher's a drug dealer, too?"

Croter nodded haggardly. "He's rich-S'mol grants riches upon the faithful, and protection as well. He originally bankrolled the local crack operation in Somner's Cove. He works with the police. Drug mules bring raw cocaine to the Cove in crabbing boats that Asher paid for. Then Asher's people convert the cocaine into crack, and the cops have it distributed. It all gets done at Asher's House of Hope."

Rehab center, my a.s.s, Judy thought.

"He's a millionaire, and he's never been caught, and none of the others ever get caught, either, because we all swore an oath."

To S'mol, Judy's thoughts whispered.

Croter seemed jittery as he continued after another sip of liquor. "Asher's been waiting for this day more than any other. The goilem that survived is old, starting to fall apart now. It won't be able to serve him much longer-the G.o.dd.a.m.n thing's almost 130 years old. But now that he's got that consignment of clay-"

"He's making another one," Judy deduced. "I saw the lights in the clearing last night. That clearing is some sort of occult circle used for rituals, isn't it?"

"Yes," Croter nearly moaned. "With that much clay he can finally take up where Gavriel left off. Asher's a devil worshiper, a disciple of S'mol, and now that he has all the Vltava clay he needs, he can fulfill the prophecy. He can animate the most destructive-and the most evil-golems in history, with Kischuph sorcery."

Judy felt her perceptions warp as the words sunk in. I can't possibly believe that, can I? "So that's what was going on in the clearing last night. It was Asher-"

"And his Kahal. They're doing a test run, so to speak. They're making a new golem with a random body so they can see if the ritual really works. If it does, he can fulfill the prophecy that he's foreseen."

"What is the prophecy?" Judy asked next. "And why do they want Gavriel's skull?"

"You just answered your own questions," the haunted man replied. "Gavriel's skull is the prophecy. Asher will use that skull to form the head of the most horrendous golem yet-it will be a golem with Gavriel's own wisdom and power. It's just one more thing Asher foresaw in the fumes of his mances. In a sense he'll be bringing Gavriel Lowen back to life. That skull is in your bas.e.m.e.nt somewhere."

"I don't think so, I've already dug around. Seth told me that the skull was buried at the ruins of the mill, not in the house."

Croter's lips pursed. "That's because I told him that, and it's a lie. The skull was originally buried at the mill, by the few survivors of the Conner clan. But several months later, a school of Kabbalist rabbis in Baltimore heard about the scourge. They retrieved the skull, they buried it in that room in your bas.e.m.e.nt."

"And they must've been the ones who blessed the house and put the warding prayer in it."

"Yes," Croter admitted. "So that nothing evil could ever enter the house and retrieve that skull. That's the only reason Asher has never been able to go in to the house, and neither could his golem. Only nonbelievers, like those two rogues who work for him, could cross the threshold. The only thing I can speculate is that the skull is probably buried in the northwest corner of the room. Did you check the entire room?"

"No, just the end where we found the bone." Northwest corner, she pondered. Same as a crossroads. "I've got no choice but to try," she said. "I'll start digging again to-night."

Croter seemed alarmed. "You mustn't do that, not now."

"But you just said-"

"Now that you've removed the mezuzah"-he pointed to it on the coffee table.-"the warding spell has been removed."

"Oh, Jesus!" Judy exclaimed. "I didn't even think of that!"

Croter nodded. "And sooner or later, Asher will realize that. He and his Kahal will be able to enter the house themselves ...or worse."

Or worse... Judy sat still in the moments of silence that followed. All the coincidences thus far were hard to deny but...could it actually be true? Her nerves were already beginning to wind up for more crack, but she staved it off by reminding herself of Seth. What could she possibly tell him about all of this?

Eventually she asked, "What now?"

"What now?" He laughed mirthlessly. "I leave town. I'd advise that you do the same." His terrified eyes found hers. "It's all true, Miss Parker."

She gazed back at him, thinking, then her heart almost stopped when a phone rang in another room.

"My ex-wife, I'm sure," Croter said and got up. "Calling to raise h.e.l.l." He disappeared through a door behind him.

Judy bowed her head and rubbed her eyes. G.o.d Almighty. What am I gonna do? I'm strung out on crack and I've got THIS to deal with... She still had several more rocks with her. She prayed to G.o.d for the strength to throw them out. She could call Seth, admit to it all, but...would he believe anything she had to say about Asher Lowen and his diabolism? Seth would think the crack has made me delusional. If Croter was right, however, she and Seth would have to get away from here. But there was one thing she knew she must do first.

She looked at the wooden mezuzah. I have to put this back in the bas.e.m.e.nt before Asher finds out it's gone.

Ten minutes pa.s.sed, but Croter didn't return. Did he leave out the back? No, his luggage was still here. She sat fidgeting, rubbing imaginary crack-bugs on her thighs, then promptly got up. "Mr. Croter?" she called out. She put an ear to the door, heard no phone conversation on the other side. She waited a moment more, then pushed the door open.

"Mister-"

Croter lay convulsing and balloon-faced on the kitchen table as a bulky figure's biceps bulged; a stout rope had been wrapped around Croter's throat, each end in a ham-sized fist, both of which tightened the rope so firmly that it dug an inch deep into the meat of Croter's neck. He flopped several more times on the table, face darkening, tongue jutting, and then fell still.

Next, his murderer's face pitched up slowly at her call: two narrowed eyes set over a grin on a gleaming, shaved head.

"Hey, t.i.ts. Fancy meetin' you here."

The muscular hulk was her surviving rapist, D-Man. Judy screamed, turning, but not fast enough for the lightning-quick hand that fired out and latched onto her hair. He dragged her across the floor, mauling her b.r.e.a.s.t.s for good measure. "Was on my way to your place after I took care'a him. Thanks fer savin' me a step."

Judy screamed until his meat-hook hand girded her throat and squeezed. The sudden pressure made her eyes bulge.

"I ain't askin' more'n once. Where's Nutjob?"

"Who?" she hacked.

"My bud. Don't bulls.h.i.t me, b.i.t.c.h." He hoisted her up by the throat, then slammed her down atop Croter's corpse on the table. He squeezed harder.

Her heels pummeled the table. Without the stocking mask, the face was even more terrifying. She tried to hack out a response but couldn't until he lessened the choke-hold.

"I-I told you-" Her fading senses struggled to remember her lie. "He left around three yesterday-"

"You lyin' ta me?" he suddenly bellowed.

"No, no!" she wheezed. "I swear."

The tense hands paused.

"And I...I found the mezuzah," she got out with her next choke.

He released her and hauled her to her feet. "Gimme it'n I won't kill ya."

The breath whistled back into her lungs. When her vision cleared she took him to the front room. "There," she said, pointing to the coffee table.

"Well, s.h.i.t my drawers," he whispered in his rough elation. He picked it up, examining the old, handcrafted wood. "So this is it. Without this thing in the house it don't matter where the skull is. We'se'll be able to find it sure as s.h.i.t."

It was with no volition of her own that she grabbed the liquor bottle and shattered it against the corner of the table. Oh, s.h.i.t! She hoped for the bottom to break off, leaving a large ring of razor-sharp edges; instead, the entire bottle smashed to pieces. All she was left with was the bottle neck.

D-Man guffawed when he realized her feeble move. "Guess I'll be killin' ya, anyway," he said, and s.n.a.t.c.hed her hand, squeezing until the bottle neck fell. He muscled her to the floor as she screamed in his face.

He wrenched up her sundress and tore her pan ties off. "But I gotta git it one more time, see? Seems a waste not to." Her slapped her senseless. "And who knows? Maybe Asher'll make the next golem with your body..."

"I killed your a.s.shole friend," she said through gritted teeth. Oh, please, G.o.d, help me... Was she trying to distract him, or just delay the inevitable? "And I left his f.u.c.king corpse in the field."

His ministrations slowed.

"I bit one of his b.a.l.l.s in half and bashed his head in with a lamp."

D-Man stared down at her, but then- He howled.

In the pause, Judy had snapped the cross off the pendant around her neck and jammed it in his eye. His hands flew up to the sudden wound, blood and humor showing between fingers.

"And now I'm gonna kill you, you sick piece of s.h.i.t," she said, unconsciously finding the bottle neck and jabbing it broken sideafirst an inch to the side of his Adam's apple. This time the howl trebled. Judy jerked aside, missing a faceful of blood by a split second, and squirmed out from under him. On his knees, he arched his back. Blood flew out of the bottle neck, a stroke of luck guiding the gla.s.s directly into the jugular and carotid. Now he raged on the floor, and even when he removed the gla.s.s, blood continued to fly.

Judy just stood there and watched him shiver as he bled to death. "You look better with the stocking mask on," she muttered to him. When his tremors slowed, she pumped his upper chest with her foot, causing more blood to eddy out even after his heart had stopped. When the reality of what she'd done set in, she felt only dull and unimpressed. I'm really tired of killing rednecks...

Yuck. She pulled her cross out of his eyeball, wiped it off on his shirt, and reconnected it to the chain. Maybe there really is a G.o.d, she half joked. Next, she searched the corpse's pockets, took keys, a cell phone, and the pistol. Then she left the house.

Don't smoke the crack, don't smoke the crack, she pleaded with herself. Outside stood the large, ugly black step van. She felt the crack bag in her pocket, wincing. Not yet, not yet! she whined, climbing into the van.

CHAPTER NINE.

July 31, 1880 I.

The mill exploded behind them with a concussion they didn't expect. We're gonna die! Conner thought as he was thrown to the ground. The black sky lit up briefly, then came a rain of bricks and boards. Norris and Corrigan cried out along with Conner at the debris and cacophony. The three of them lay half dazed in the brush, until the destructive roar changed over to a gentle crackling.

"Still alive," Conner muttered. He dragged himself up. And them, too, it looks like. He helped the two others to shaky feet. Norris looked sh.e.l.l-shocked but intact and Corrigan, though b.l.o.o.d.y-faced from a flying board, finally roused to recover full senses.

"Jesus G.o.d," Norris murmured, gazing behind them. The mill was no more, just a pile of burning larch timbers.

"Ain't no way that thing survived an explosion like that," Corrigan grated. "And there probably ain't a speck of Lowen left either."

"Good job, men," Conner attempted, though his voice cracked from an after-fear.

Norris sighed against a tree. "Yer plan worked, Mr. Conner."

"Not all'a it," he reminded. "That second thing's still out there somewhere."

"We got d.a.m.n near a hunnert men tearin' the town up," Norris felt sure. "Don't care how strong it is. It ain't gonna whup a hunnert men."