Tentatively, Erik led the sheriff into the woods behind Dovecrest’s cabin. It had been pitch dark when he’d been here last night, so he had nothing to go on but his instincts. He decided to just charge forward a ways into the woods, and then let his instinct take over.
“I’ve been out here dozens of times and haven’t found anything,” Collins said. “How do you know where to find this…this stone of yours?”
“I’m not even positive I can,” Erik said. “But it doesn’t involve looking. It involves feeling.”
Collins shrugged. “I don’t get it.”
“Neither do I,” Erik said. “Ok. I need to stop and get my bearings. Just be patient and let me…feel.”
Erik found a relatively clear spot and stopped. He closed his eyes, folded his arms across his chest, and began to breathe slowly and deeply. He felt the hot midday sun beating down on him from the breaks in the treetops. There was no breeze, and he heard the buzzing of mosquitoes and the chirping of birds. A crow cawed a warning from above, then flew away. Nothing but the mundane sounds of the forest. He waited and opened up his mind and his soul to whatever might come in. Still nothing but the ordinary sounds of the forest.
He was about to give up and go home when he felt it. It wasn’t a sound, or even a sensation, but a feeling, not of the body but of the soul. It was like weak push, the feeling one gets when putting two magnets together and feeling them repel one another. It was a feeling of avoidance. Don’t go there, it seemed to say. There’s nothing for you in that direction. He suddenly remembered the Star Wars movies and how “the force” could make people do things. In this case this force was trying to make him not do something.
“I have it,” he whispered, and slowly moved in the direction he was being pushed away from.
The feeling grew stronger, the force in his head more insistent. Now that he could recognize it, it was abundantly clear, as obvious as a street sign pointing the way.
“This way,” he said, and opened his eyes. Once he recognized the feeling, he found himself navigating easily through the dense forest, making his way around trees and bushes and still following the unspoken command.
Dovecrest had said that the thing could only be found if it wanted to be, and Erik had the sudden frightening thought that maybe this time it did want to be found. How else could the feeling have grown so strong so quickly?
But whether or not it wanted to be found didn’t really matter, because it must be found, and what better time than now, in the heat of the day and with the sheriff beside him. This was definitely his best chance, no matter how he looked at it.
Then, suddenly he stepped into a clearing in the middle of the forest. The sun shone down from overhead, and the grass was trimmed, as if it had recently been mowed. He felt it before he saw it-the altar stone stood in the very center of the clearing.
“I’ll be damned!” Collins said. “This just can’t be!”
Erik stopped at the edge of the clearing, but the sheriff kept on walking, almost as if he were drawn towards the stone. Erik called out to him but he didn’t seem to hear. Then he saw a man enter the clearing from the other side of the altar stone. He shouted a warning. Still, Collins did not hear. If anything, he walked faster.
Erik took one step forward, and then stopped. That same inner feeling that had shown him the way here now spoke to him again. Only this time the stone called him towards it.
On an instinctual level, Erik knew better than to respond to the call. Although his feet yearned to pull him forward, he resisted. Again, he called out to Collins, but the man would not respond. In fact, he was now heading across the field at a full run. Erik couldn’t have caught him now if he’d tried.
Collins pulled his gun from his holster, and Erik thought he was going to shoot the man heading towards him, but he merely held the gun out in front of him. The man was too far away to clearly distinguish his features. He walked slowly, almost robotically, as if he, too, were under some sort of spell. The man had short hair, Erik noticed, and held his head at an odd sort of angle. As he came closer, Erik noticed an odd-looking growth on the side and back of his neck.
The sheriff ran up to the altar stone and waited until the stranger reached the other side of the stone. The two of them stared into each other’s eyes like two cats sizing one another up before a fight.
Collins pointed his gun at the man, and then began to scream. Slowly, he turned the gun back towards himself and pressed the muzzle against his abdomen.
“No!” Erik screamed. Without thinking, he rushed out into the field and towards Collins. Before he had even taken two strides, though, he heard the muffled pop of the gun. Collins doubled forward, then fired again into his stomach.
As Erik came closer, the sheriff turned and faced him. Erik could see the excruciating horror on his face as blood flowed from his abdomen, staining his shirt red. Whimpering softly, he climbed onto the altar and collapsed onto the polished black stone. Then he put the gun to his own left shoulder and fired again.
Erik stopped and looked at the stranger, the man with the growth on his shoulder. The man was grinning, licking his lips in pleasure as he watched the sight. And Erik swore the thing on his neck was getting larger.
Finally, Collins put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger one last time. Only then did the man turn and look at Erik. Power and hatred clouded his eyes, and Erik felt himself shrivel under the terrible gaze.