Chapter 9 - Challenge
Donna's panic grew as she watched the battle of wills between Jerry and Lydia's brother. She realized that she was going to be forced into deciding the fate of Ben's crumbling empire. She looked to her father for guidance, but he couldn't offer any. "Go with your heart, Donna," was all that he said. She remembered the last time that she saw Ben alive. He was sincerely apologetic for hurting her and her family. Donna looked at Jerry, her uncle. The thought made her nauseous. He was patronizing and had treated her like dirt. Then, she looked at Lydia and Jack. She had been kind to her when she needed a friend. Lydia didn't know, or care, who she was. She was a good person. So was Jack, who was dripping all over the leather sofa. He'd flown through a thunderstorm to get here in time. In the end, it came down to respect.
"I have to honor my father's last request. I vote yes," Donna announced as the doctor put his arm around her shoulder.
Lydia slumped forward and let out her breath. Jack looked at Donna in confusion. Sylvia ran over and embraced her. Jerry was still for a long time. Finally, he stood up and strode over. "Thanks, niece," he hissed. "This family sticks up for each other."
At that, Lydia looked up, then exchanged looks with her brother. Two sets of raven eyebrows arched, then he nodded curtly. Lydia turned to the center of the room.
"You're one to talk, Jerry," she accused.
"What?" he whirled to face her.
"Why has the department store been losing so much money, Jerry? It's not just shoplifting, is it?"
"What are you getting at, you witch?"
"I resemble that remark," she smiled a hollow smile. "What I'm getting at is large amounts of money being diverted from the department store and funneled into the accounts of both you and Catherine Martell. I'm getting at embezzlement, Jerry. Against your own brother. How disgusting."
"You can't do anything about it," he retorted.
"True," she admitted, "but my friends at the FBI can. I work as a consultant to them for white-collar crime."
"You said nobody would find out!" Catherine turned to Jerry, then glared menacingly at Jack.
"I wouldn't leave town, if I were you," Lydia advised.
"Well, I guess it's okay to admit the people who drove me from the airport," Jack announced. He opened the door and motioned for someone to come in. "Thanks for waiting around."
"You know, you ought to change out of those wet clothes, Jack," Harry Truman said as he walked into the room followed by Agents Rosenfeld and Bryson. Harry nodded at Lydia, then crossed the room toward Donna, who was standing next to Jerry.
"Gerald Horne, you're under arrest for the purchase of narcotics with intent to distribute. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law..." Agent Bryson continued to recite the Miranda rights as she cuffed Jerry.
"Don't forget to add embezzlement to those charges, Sheriff Truman," Albert added." Donna looked from Sheriff Truman to Lydia to Jack for an explanation. She wouldn't get one. Jack left the room followed closely by his sister.
Jack stopped by the elevators, and was taken by surprise as Lydia seized him in a huge bear hug and kissed him on the cheek. She was not usually that demonstrative, especially in public. After the past few hours, however, he was just as glad to see her as she was to see him.
The elevator door opened and they entered. The door closed, and she turned to him. "Tell me you didn't fly through that mess out there," she asked, becoming serious.
"I did what I had to, sis. The controller at Spokane held me back for two hours. The weather cleared, and they let me take off first thing. I was aloft when another thunderstorm cell developed and moved in. I couldn't land anywhere, so I just kept going. The controller at Black Lake Airport bitched me out for being so reckless, but I made it here. There was no taxi or anything at the airport. So, I walked."
"The controller was right," she said as the elevator door opened. "You are crazy. Now you know why I don't like to fly with you. How did you hook up with Harry?"
"He was on his way to the hotel with the FBI and DEA agent to arrest Jerry. They saw me walking and picked me up. I'm glad they did. I wouldn't have made it here in time."
She unlocked the door to their suite. "I'm glad he did, too. He's right, you know. You should get out of those wet clothes." She shoved him gently into the bedroom and closed the door. He changed quickly into his black suit, and towel-dried his hair. In the other room, she called room service. When he was sufficiently dry, he pulled a newspaper-wrapped object out of his briefcase and took it into the outer room.
"Here's the thing you wanted from home. Your damn cat hissed at me again when I went in to get it," he handed her the bundle. "By the way, your housemate, James, is finishing high school. That's why I had to let myself in. Apparently you put the fear of God in him."
"Well, Artemis is a good judge of character," she smirked. He took the towel off his head and threw it at her. She ducked playfully. "So, how's Audrey? Is she doing better?"
Jack sighed painfully. "She has a long road back. Even with skin grafts and plastic surgery, she'll still have the scars for the rest of her life. Sis," he looked up, "the doctor said she can never have a baby. You know how I've always wanted kids." A knock at the door interrupted them. It was the old room service waiter. She signed the paper and tipped him, then poured two cups of hot water. He watched her put a tea ball in one of them, and set it in front of him.
"Drink it," she ordered.
He sniffed warily. "What is it?"
"Something to keep you from getting a cold," she sat next to him, a cup of real tea in her hand. He dumped two packets of sugar in it, to kill the taste, and followed orders.
"So, what have you been up to, besides making time with the local law enforcement?"
Jack was rewarded with a whack on the shoulder. "At least I slept with someone who isn't jail bait. How did you find out?"
"She's not jail bait," he shot back. "You're more relaxed. When I left, you had hit it off with Hawk. I put two and two together. He's a good guy, sis. I like him."
"I'm so glad to know you approve," she retorted.
"What's the deal with the Hayward girl?" He changed the subject. "She said something about her father's last wish. However, the doctor was sitting next to her when she said it."
"Donna and Audrey have a lot more in common than just the same homeroom, Jack. Ben was Donna's father."
He shook his head in disbelief. "I always figured his extracurricular activities would come back to haunt him someday."
Her face turned serious. "There's another problem. You need to know this."
"What's that? Something besides Jerry and Catherine?"
She took a deep breath, the way she usually did when there was bad news. "The man who attacked Annie. My old friend, or someone that looks like him. He was responsible for Ben's death. The Sheriff's department knew this from the first."
"I see," he said slowly, absorbing this information.
"He also had an accomplice, who was after Audrey before you left the first time."
"That explains something. She mentioned in passing some creepy guy at the library quoting a poem to her. Why?"
"Revenge," she shrugged. "He apparently thought that Audrey, Donna, or another young woman, Shelley Johnson, would win Miss Twin Peaks. He made another threat against all of them, and you, too. That's why I hustled you out of town."
"The idiot guard on Audrey's room..."
"Was partially our doing. Jack, it's worse than that," she put her hand on his. "He was also responsible for Tom's death."
He put the cup down with a bang, spilling some tea. "WHAT? How could that be? Tommy was another continent away from here!" He felt like throwing up, and not because of the rough weather or the tea.
"I don't know, exactly. Apparently Twin Peaks is a gateway for this monster. There are other gateways, too. One's in Brazil. Tom got too close, and he was killed because of it. I'm sorry, Jack, but you have a right to know this. Please don't tell Rose or his parents until the Bureau concludes their investigation. Robin's handling it personally, by the way."
Jack put his head in his hands. "No," he tried to deny what she had just told him. His gut reaction was telling him it was true. He remembered the feeling from a week ago, that Audrey's accident and Tom's death were connected. "What about the bank? Is this thing responsible for that, too?" he managed to choke out.
"No. Audrey was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"I'll kill him. I swear it. If not for myself, for Rose and Elizabeth," he swore, a dangerous note in his voice.
"Don't worry, I already have the first place in line for that honor," she replied. "Look, we need to go. The funeral's starting soon," she showed him her watch, which read 11:30. He stood up and finished the tea. It wasn't as nasty as he expected. He turned around, and Lydia grabbed his shoulders. "Jack, promise me that you won't interfere. I know you're angry, but this is way out of your league. Let me handle it."
"I can't promise you that, sis. If I get him alone, I don't know what I'll do."
Annie stepped out of her room at Norma's house and looked down the hall. Good, she thought, Mother isn't around to ruin my day off. She walked down the hall into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. This was the first day off she'd had in over a week. It felt good to sleep in after last night. She sipped her coffee and thought about her nightmare. Just as bad as before, but at least I can recognize what's in them. What did Lydia say? Use the ordeal to her advantage. But how? Hey, I'm alive. I'm here, not in the Lodge like Dale. She saw again the long-haired man turn into the scum that raped her five years ago. She shivered, and put the nightmare out of her mind. I survived that ordeal. Suddenly, it dawned on her. I survived. I lived. Larry is dead. I tried to kill myself, but I must have wanted to live more than I wanted to die.
Annie was jolted out of her musing by the slam of the kitchen door. She jumped, spilling the coffee all over the table.
"Hello, sweetheart. I was hoping to find you here," Vivian said cheerfully. Annie groaned. "Now look what you've gone and done," Her mother reached for a paper towel and was cleaning up the spill before she could even move.
"Good morning, Mother. Don't you believe in knocking?"
"Of course not! This is my daughter's house, after all."
"I don't think Norma would really want you to come waltzing in here unannounced."
"Why, Annie! You act as if you're not glad to see me," Vivian was shocked.
If only you knew, she thought. "Of course not. It's just that you surprised me," she reassured her mother.
"So, what are we going to do on your day off? I thought you could introduce me to that FBI agent that you've been seeing."
Annie gulped. "Mom, um, Dale's been, um, called out of town suddenly on another case. He hasn't been here in a few days and I don't know when he'll be back," she stammered. She was getting a tension headache. It usually happened when she talked to her mother for any length of time was starting again.
"Well, you know how it is with these law enforcement types. Here today, gone tomorrow. He probably has a girl in every town he's worked in."
"Now, Mother, he isn't like that at all."
"Annie, I know people, and I didn't like the looks of him when he arrested my poor Ernie. He's probably off running around with that lady DEA Agent. I wish you had found a nice boy like that Larry fellow you were dating in high school."
With that, Annie's anger, built up over years of being treated like a child and honed by her recent ordeal, exploded into a white-hot rage. "I've had about enough of this, Vivian," She raised her voice for the first time in her life. "I'm sick of hearing glorify Larry. He was a drunk and a rapist. Yes, Mother," she spat the word out. "That's why I tried to kill myself. Larry raped me. You wouldn't listen when I tried to tell you!"
"Oh, my poor little girl..."
"No, Vivian. I'm not your little girl anymore. I'm a grown woman, and I can take care of myself. Sorry, but I have to ask you to leave."
"Well!" she stood, and strode out of the kitchen in a huff.
Annie watched her go, then turned back to the table and started to cry. "I have to do something," she sobbed. "Please, God. Give me strength."
Benjamin Horne's funeral turned out to be a small affair. The only people there were Sylvia and Johnny, Lydia and Jack, Sarah Palmer, Donna Hayward, her father, and the minister. They had learned that Bobby had been arrested, and had made a deal to turn in Jerry. Jack looked around the cemetery. It was gray and depressing, just like the day that he buried his father. Ben had been there for him that day. Now, Jack was the one who had to be strong. For Sylvia, for her retarded son, and mostly for her daughter, lying in a hospital bed ninety miles to the south. He felt a touch on his arm, and looked up at his sister.
"You're thinking about Dad, right?" she asked quietly. It was uncanny. She never failed to know what was on his mind.
"Yeah," he smiled wanly. "He and my mom are buried right up the hill, in the poor section. God, sis, I'm so sick of funerals. It feels like everyone that I counted on is dead."
"I know what you mean. I felt the same way when I buried my grandmother."
"Ben did more for me than our dad did. He put me through school, and treated me like the son... well, you know." He looked at Johnny in his Indian war bonnet, wailing and sobbing loudly.
"Where's Audrey? Where's Dad?" he cried. Sylvia tried to quiet him. "I want Audrey!" It was enough to tear Jack's heart.
"Johnny, please, come with me," Doc Hayward interrupted, and steered the distraught boy toward the car.
"I only hope that I, well, we, can do right by them. I have to pay Ben back. This is the only way I know how," Jack sighed.
After the funeral, Donna felt the need to stay behind and pay her last respects to her biological father alone. "Go ahead, Dad," she told her father, "I'll be along in a minute." He patted her arm and nodded. Will Hayward understood his eldest daughter pretty well, although she didn't carry any of his DNA.
As the rest of the mourners walked away, Donna came forward to the grave. "Ben," she said aloud, "I'm sorry I didn't get to know you better. I wish things could have been different, but they weren't. I'm sorry." She prayed silently for a while, contemplating what had occurred that day.
A bright light brought her out of her reverie. A bright spotlight, and the sound of her name spoken by a familiar female voice. "Donna," the voice called from behind the line of trees. Donna turned around and peered through the trees. She didn't see anyone, but she heard it again. "Donna, c'mere!" She recognized it suddenly. A voice that she hadn't heard in a few months, except sometimes in her nightmares. Laura's voice. It called out to her again, from beyond the grave. "Here, in the trees." She walked over toward the tree line.
"Laura?" Donna asked, incredulous. "Where are you?"
"In the trees. Come here," the voice urged.
Donna hesitated, but her curiosity got the best of her. She started into the woods. She kicked off her high heels. "Laura?" she called out again as she walked deeper into the trees.
Lydia had her arm around her brother as they walked down the hill from the burial site. Under the circumstances, she felt that he was holding up pretty well. Of course, he would probably break down when everything was over with and he was alone. She did the same thing. Jack turned and kissed her cheek. "Thanks, sis," he whispered.
"You're welcome, little brother," she replied and rubbed his back. Something was prickling at the back of her neck, like static electricity. Trouble was starting. Nothing much, but she was on her guard nonetheless. She released Jack and dug in her purse without him seeing her.
Sarah Palmer was also walking away from the gravesite next to Sylvia Horne. She and Sylvia had always been friends, but they had grown closer after the untimely deaths of their husbands. Sylvia was even helping her to quit smoking. As she was walking, Sarah felt something overtaking her, just like it did two weeks ago. In her therapy session with Dr. Jacoby, she had blanked out and later woke up in the Diner. Like before, she blanked out and let whatever it was take over her body and her mind.
Lydia saw Sarah turn and walk back toward them. There was something otherworldly in her eyes. She remembered from the police reports that Sarah was a clairvoyant. She had a channeling episode in the diner the day that Cooper disappeared. Lydia stopped and held her arm out to stop Jack. Sarah approached them and looked directly into her face. She lowered her own psychic shielding a touch, to let whatever was controlling the woman know that she was a friend. It was definitely friendly, and had a slight aura of familiarity.
"Save my daughter," she said in a male voice. Lydia saw Jack frown out of the corner of her eye. "Protect the queens."
"Audrey?" he asked. Sarah, or whoever was controlling her, shook her head.
When she heard her brother's question, a bomb exploded in Lydia's brain. Ben Horne's spirit had reached out from beyond the grave to warn them. "Protect the queens? Goddess, no!" she whirled around, grabbing her gun out of her purse as she did so. She turned around just in time to see Donna disappear into the line of trees on the other side of the cemetery. "Jack, stay here!" she ordered. "Call the sheriff's office and ask for Deputy Hawk. Tell him that Donna's in trouble." She handed him her purse and took off up the hill toward the woods.
However, Ben, in Sarah's body, wasn't done. "Jack, it's a trap," he told his foster-son. Then Sarah collapsed into the arms of Doc Hayward, who had heard Donna's name and came running over.
Jack's eyes widened, and he turned toward where his sister was running up the hill. "Wait!" he cried, "It's a trap!" He dropped her purse in the mud and followed her.
When Donna entered the copse of trees, she saw Laura Palmer beckoning her to come forward. She stood there, puzzled, for a second. She was so intent on the her friend before her that she didn't see the owl perching on a tree branch behind Laura.
"Donna, come here. I've missed you," the specter urged.
Donna moved slowly forward, her mouth working without sound. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be dead. Ghosts don't exist. This isn't happening," she struggled to understand.
"Come here," the ghost ordered, then laughed. "You're doing your hair differently."
It sounded so much like something Laura would notice that she laughed out loud. "Laura, what's going on here?" she asked.
"I missed you. I wanted to see you."
"But you're dead," she stammered.
"My spirit lives on in a wonderful place. There's always music in the air, and lots of dancing. Maddie's there, too."
Donna moved to within two feet away from Laura, facing her. Suddenly, Laura's facial expression changed from one of happiness to one of extreme sorrow. Something rustled in the trees, and she turned slowly. A familiar figure stepped out of the woods.
"Agent Cooper! I'm so glad you're here. Can you see her? Can you see Laura?"
"Donna, I thought I told you not to go anywhere alone. Of course I can see her," he said, smiling wolfishly.
"I don't know what's going on here, but make it stop, please," she begged.
"I'm sorry. I can't do that," he replied as he grabbed her. She screamed in panic.
"He forced me to do it," Laura cried, then disappeared.
"Scream again, and you're dead," Cooper ordered and pinned her arms behind her. He started pulling her deeper into the woods. "You got away from me once. You won't get away again."
"WHAT?" Donna cried. "When? Who are you?" In response, he briefly changed into the form of Leland Palmer, then back into Cooper. Donna suppressed a scream as understanding washed over her. That time that she had gone over to Laura's house and found Mr. Palmer alone... She whimpered again as Cooper turned her around to face him. He smiled a feral smile and chuckled, bringing the heel of his hand up to impact her nose. She started to gasp as blood filled her nasal passage. He ripped her blouse from top to bottom. "No," she begged between gasps, but she knew that it was no use.
"Want to go see Laura?" he murmured throatily, as he bent over to kiss her chest. She brought her right knee up into his groin in one smooth movement. Damned if I'm going to lie down and take this, she thought. It was her last coherent thought she flew five feet backwards, crashing into an old oak tree on the edge of the grove. She heard a crack from her left arm, and felt burning pain wash over her. "No!" she screamed with all of the fiber of her being. Cooper was on top of her again, pinning back her right arm. The left arm, she quickly discovered, was useless. Donna tried to struggle, but it only encouraged him further. He had pulled off her bra and was biting her so hard that he drew blood. He took his hand off hers for a second to pull her skirt up, and she reached out and clawed his face with her fingernails. Cooper howled in pain and punched her in the face. Donna hovered on the edge of consciousness, then passed out.
"In the end it was almost too simple," Harry Truman mused as he watched a woodpecker out of his office window.
"Of course. That's how dealers screw up. This one should have just put an ad in the paper," Agent Bryson agreed. "After I left the last time, I decided to follow the trail north. I had a lead on another buyer in this area, a thug by the name of Leo Johnson. I didn't find Leo, but I found one of his small-time pushers."
"Bobby Briggs, who led you to Jerry Horne. And, Denise," Harry turned around, "you'll find Leo Johnson in the morgue."
"Damn, Missed another one," Denise smiled. "So, Harry, where is Coop, anyway?"
Harry stopped cold. "He's been called away on urgent business. I don't know when he'll be back."
Bryson looked at him strangely, but didn't say anything. The door opened to admit Agent Rosenfeld. "Well, the kid's down there singing like Luciano Pavarotti. He's giving us everything he knows just to save his ass. Horne keeps whining about how bad the food is, and that he wants to see a lawyer."
"He is a lawyer," Harry reminded them.
"That figures," Rosenfeld rolled his eyes.
"Well, Harry, I guess you can handle it from here," Bryson said as she extended her hand. "Tell Coop I said hello."
"Will do. By the way, I liked you better as a man," Harry shook his hand, then Agent Scofield's. "Although you do have great legs."
"I was wondering when you were going to get to that," she sighed with resignation.
Lydia ran up the hill toward where Donna had disappeared. The tight skirt that she had chosen to wear to the funeral was hampering her motion, and she couldn't run as fast as usual. "Next time, Wheeler, just wear pants," she cursed herself. As she was running, the psychic pressure was building up along the base of her spine. She Felt something twinge, like a plucked harpstring, and heard a scream coming from the grove. "Dammit," she muttered, and stopped to try to rip her skirt. Unfortunately, she had chosen her suit with the best quality fabric, which refused to tear. As she stood up, Lydia saw her brother running at full-tilt past her. "Jack, don't!" she called. This was not the time or place for amateur hour, she thought as she ran after him. "You crazy idiot, you'll get yourself killed!" He disappeared into the trees. She tried to catch up to him, and skidded on a flat gravestone set into the ground.
Jack dashed headlong into the grove to find Cooper crouched over Donna. The man was oblivious to his arrival, and was intently trying to pull her pantyhose down. Donna was showing no signs of struggling. In fact, she didn't even look conscious. Jack crept up silently behind Cooper, and delivered a forceful kick with his steel-toed cowboy boots right into the other man's back. He landed another kick to the his right side, knocking him off Donna, who was bleeding from her nose. "Get up, you miserable sack of shit," he ordered. "Pick on someone your own size!" Cooper curled up into a crouch, and changed into a feral man with long gray hair. "What the hell?" Jack muttered, trying to understand what he had just seen. He had the sudden impression of a wolf guarding it's killed prey. For the first time since he escaped from his abusive father, Jack Wheeler felt paralyzing fear. He fought it, and gained control over his emotions. The man stood over Donna's inert body and looked straight at him.
"Get out of here!" he snarled. "This is your sister's business, not yours."
Something primal in the back of Jack's mind was screaming a warning, but he ignored it. "You've made it my business when you attacked my family."
"I had nothing to do with Audrey," the gray-haired man spat.
"Oh, no, this isn't about Audrey," he explained, his face stone-cold. "It's about another important young lady in my life. Her name is Elizabeth. She's two years old, and she's wondering why her daddy isn't coming home. I'm her godfather. You son-of-a-bitch, you murdered my friend Tom Chang in cold blood. You also murdered Ben Horne. THAT is what this is about."
"How touching," Bob answered, skirting around Donna. "Ah, yes, the Chinese man from South America. Yeah, I killed him. He got too close to our gate. I had to kill him. It was self-defense," he shrugged. "As for Horne, I see by the amount of mourners here that nobody really misses him. Except maybe for all of the women that he had sex with. Including his own daughter..."
"That," Jack hissed, "is a goddamn lie!" He rushed the thing in front of him, and managed to land one good right hook before it attacked. In the blink of an eye, Jack found himself held from behind, with a long, serrated knife held against his throat.
"All right, witch!" Bob called out. "I've got your brother. Come out or he's dead!"
Lydia stared at the offending gravestone regained her balance. She noticed the name on the gravestone-Wheeler. Dear Goddess, she thought, it can't be. She looked down, and sure enough. The names on the stone were Henry J. Wheeler, 1931-1985 and Maureen P. Wheeler, 1933-1969. She patted the headstone and muttered, "Daddy, protect your stupid children. Give me the strength to do what must be done." She then stood up and ran toward the grove. She heard Jack accuse someone of murdering Tommy and Ben. "Dammit, no!" she whispered.
Lydia saw movement faster than any human could make through the trees. She saw her brother, a strong, athletic man, being overpowered by Bob. Lydia heard Bob call out to her as she hid behind a tree. "WITCH!" he called, more insistently this time. She came out from behind the tree, her gun held with both hands and pointed at his head, which was directly behind Jack's.
"This is getting to be a habit," she said coldly, her eyes flickering to her brother's face. "Best out of three?"
"Drop the gun, and nobody gets hurt," he ordered.
"Yeah, right. Like I trust you."
"Sis," Jack said, his voice steady. "I suggest you do what the man says, or it'll be a really bad day for our family."
She Looked at her brother. His aura showed fear, but he was trying to force it down. Good, he's keeping his cool. Her eyes flickered from Jack to Bob, then back again. She nodded. He blinked once, to signify that he picked up on her meaning. I hope this gamble pays off. She then turned her attention back to the being holding a knife against his throat.
"I said, drop your weapon, witch," Bob repeated, pressing the blade into Jack's throat for emphasis. Her brother winced, but showed no fear. A thin line of blood appeared on his neck.
"No," she ordered. "Let him go, then we'll talk."
"I can't do that," Bob leered. "You wouldn't risk the life of your only brother like this, now, would you?"
"Why is he a target?" she stalled. It wasn't working.
"Don't you know by now, sorceress? The better the person is, the more of a challenge they are. The greater, and more delicious, their fear. I'm getting bored with Cooper. All he does is sit around drinking coffee and causing trouble. Perhaps I need a new host. One who controls an international corporation, lives in a major city, and has a large sum of money available. Someone whom no one would ever suspect."
Lydia held her gaze, but inwardly she was sick. Her Sight showed Jack's aura flare with fear. Bob took advantage of his fear. "I won't let you do it, you know that."
"Then he will die, one way or another."
She hesitated. "If it must happen, let it be done with love," she said. She looked once at Jack, and saw the trust reflected in his eyes. For a fraction of a second, she thought of Robin Masters, who taught her to shoot. Then, she pulled the trigger.
As she did, Bob released her brother and shape-shifted into the form of a Great Horned Owl. Jack dropped to the ground, rolled over to where Donna was regaining consciousness, and covered her with his body. The owl flew upward. Lydia followed the flight line with her gun, firing into the air. There was a squeal as a bullet grazed the owl in the backside. A few tailfeathers fluttered down from the sky. As it flew out of range, she stood holding her gun toward the receding raptor.
Her hands started shaking violently and the color drained from her face. She lowered the gun slowly and turned around. Jack had helped Donna to her feet. He put his jacket around her shoulders. With his other hand, he took a handkerchief out of his pocket and daubed the blood from the cut on his neck. Donna tilted her head back and pinched the bridge of her nose to stop the blood. She was holding her left arm at an odd angle. Dazed, Lydia walked over to where her brother and Donna stood. All three of them embraced silently for a full minute. "You are a very brave young woman, Donna," she reassured the girl. "Are you all right?" Donna shook her head and held up her arm, tears in her eyes. "Well, let's get you back to your dad." She smiled wanly through her tears and nodded.
As they broke apart, a blinding white light lit the grove. In front of them, at the entrance, stood Bob. Donna screamed, and Jack held on to her, turning her so that she couldn't see her attacker. Lydia brought her gun up again and interposed herself between Bob and the two noncombatants.
"A challenge, witch," Bob sneered. "A sorcerer's duel. Glastonbury Grove, midnight tonight. Come alone."
Here was the culmination of the past week's efforts. She remained silent, still pointing her gun directly at Bob's head. Her hands were completely steady.
"What, you refuse?" he mocked her.
"No. Rules of engagement specify a second and an observer for each party involved," she lied.
Bob cackled disdainfully. "Rules, always rules. All right. You can bring your two friends. I'll bring mine, too. Tonight. I will be expecting you." He disappeared as suddenly as he came.
Lydia lowered the gun and looked back. Donna was still cowering in Jack's arms. Her brother looked ill.
"Was that the man that killed Laura?" Donna asked directly.
She nodded. She wouldn't lie to Donna. Not after today.
"He also killed Maddie Ferguson and my father?" Donna continued.
"And a friend of ours," she confided. "He also attacked Annie and Ronette Pulaski, and is holding the real Agent Cooper hostage. That's why I'm here." Donna looked up at Jack, who still had his arm around her. He nodded in confirmation.
"And he wanted me? For what?"
"I would assume for the same reason he wanted Laura. Either to kill, or to be a parasite off." Donna's eyes widened with the realization. "Let's get the hell out of here before he comes back," Lydia suggested. There was no argument.
Hawk had been alerted by Doc Hayward's call to the Sheriff's office, and by a sixth sense that something was happening. He sped over to the cemetery as soon as he could. He arrived to see Sylvia Horne bending over Sarah Palmer, and Doc Hayward watching the top of the hill intently. Lydia, Jack, and Donna were missing. As he joined the doctor, a gunshot rang out, followed by several others. He could see what looked like an owl fly up out of the trees. "Oh, my God," he muttered. Hawk knew what that owl really was, or more to the point, who it was. It flew back into the trees, and he began to run up the hill. There was a scream, which sounded like Donna. He slowed when he saw Lydia and Jack emerge from the grove with Donna between them. Lydia was pale and shaking, Jack was positively green, and Donna had a bloody nose and broken arm. Her clothes were torn, and she was wearing Lydia's suit jacket. He ran up the hill to meet them.
"What happened?" he asked as he grasped Lydia's shoulders. She released Donna and collapsed into his arms, trembling. He exchanged a look with Jack over her head.
"Apparently the person who killed Ben lured Donna into the woods and attacked her. Lydia and I rescued her," Jack explained.
"More like you attempted a rescue and damn near got yourself killed," she snapped.
"Hey, you were the one gambling with my life, sis!"
"Break it up, kids. Break it up," Hawk tried to intervene.
"Well, you just had to go rushing in and be a hero!" Lydia countered, ignoring him. "Dammit, Jack, I warned you not to interfere. You could have been killed, or worse! That thing wanted your soul."
"It was a trap. Ben told me so, after you ran out of there," he explained, rationality taking over. "I had to warn you. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you, too."
Lydia stopped short. She pointed her index finger at him and smiled, "You... you do that to me all of the time. I get pissed off at you, and you come back with this puppy-dog act." She gave him a sisterly whack on the arm and embraced him fiercely. "Just don't play hero again, okay?"
"I won't if you won't," he put his arm around her shoulder and they walked down the hill together.
Hawk just sighed and shrugged helplessly at his lover's volatile temper. "Gee, I'm so glad we settled that," he commented to Donna, who nodded in agreement.
When they reached the bottom, Doc Hayward helped Donna into their car. Hawk went up to Lydia and kissed her firmly. Jack sat on the curb and put his head between his legs.
"Hawk," she asked, "can you take us back to the station? We'll need to pick up Annie on the way, too."
"Why?"
"I'll explain everything when we get there. I want Harry and Major Briggs in on this, too. Jack, are you coming with me?"
"No," he looked up and replied," could please drop me back at the hotel? I need a stiff drink. In fact, I think I need several." The color was starting to return to his face.
She smiled sympathetically. "I agree with you. I'd join you, but I don't think this is over for me, yet. Not by a long shot."
At four o'clock sharp, the five of them gathered in the conference room of the stationhouse. Hawk looked out at the assembled crew, wondering, as they were, what Lydia was up to. He didn't have to wait long. She looked up and cleared her throat. Every eye turned to her. He observed as the "businesswoman" part of her came out as she took command of the room.
"Gentlemen, and lady," she spoke in a clear voice pitched to carry over talking. "You're probably wondering why I've called you here on such short notice. I believe that tonight will be our last opportunity to rescue Agent Cooper and destroy the Black Lodge. The events of the past six hours have forced our hand," she assessed. They were all aware of the attack on Donna, who was recovering in the hospital. "After the attack, Bob challenged me to a duel tonight at midnight at Glastonbury Grove." The room erupted in heated conversation at that point. "Please," she raised her voice. The arguing stopped. "Thank you. I was able to make one condition. I can bring two people with me. One as a second, the other an observer."
"I'm going with you," he volunteered before he even had time to think.
She shook her head sadly. "No, Hawk. I can't let you."
"Now wait a minute, Lydia," he started.
"Miss Wheeler," Major Briggs interrupted, "I'll volunteer. As you know, I have dealt with this entity before."
She shook her head. "Thanks, Major. Annie?" The girl whipped her head around when Lydia spoke her name. "Are you willing to face the Black Lodge again, for Dale's sake?"
She looked at Lydia with terror in her eyes. "No," she said timidly. "I can't. Not after yesterday. It's too much."
Hawk was stunned. He didn't think that Annie's regression had been that bad. Forcing her to relive the ordeal must have made her own nightmares worse.
"Now, Annie," Major Briggs began.
"No, I won't hear a word of it. I'm leaving..." she stood and started out the door.
He stood up. "Did you have another nightmare last night, Annie?" he asked. She stopped cold, her hand on the doorknob. She turned slowly toward him.
"How did you know?"
"It was worse than before, right?"
Her hand came off the doorknob and covered her mouth, as if to stifle a scream. She nodded yes.
"I want you to think very hard about something. Do you want to have nightmares for the rest of your life? If so, go ahead and walk out that door. If you want to conquer your fears, go into the Lodge. Annie," Hawk said gently, putting his hands on her shoulders, "the Black Lodge is about confronting our own fears and overcoming them. We need you. Cooper needs you. Bob exploited Cooper's fright, just like he did yours. The question is, do you love him enough to master your own terror?"
"In other words," Lydia added, "do you want to be a victim for the rest of your life?"
She hesitated. His words were beginning to sink in. "No," she replied, "I will not be a victim again. I'll go with you."
Lydia crossed the room and embraced the younger woman, then returned to the head of the table. "Now then, that's settled. Bob challenged me to a duel at midnight. In other words, he's setting another trap. What we need to do is surprise him by going in at eleven."
"Just how do you propose to do that?" Briggs asked.
"Cooper just walked right in when he went after Annie," Harry suggested.
"And Earle dragged me in, too," Annie remembered.
"Yes," Lydia agreed. "Earle used your fear to enter, and Dale used his love for you. Remember that love and fear open the gateway. I intend to kick the damn door in, with no fear."
"If it works, so much the better. At least it will get someone's attention." Hawk said. The Major nodded in agreement.
"Major, Annie, I suggest that you prepare yourselves as best you can. And eat a good dinner. Harry, if you could pick me up at the hotel at ten? I will see you all then. Thanks. "
"Will do," Harry said, then left, followed by Annie and the Major.
When the others had left the room, Hawk turned to Lydia and confronted her. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Going into the Black Lodge," she snapped.
"Without me? Didn't last night mean anything to you?"
"Of course it did. That's why you can't come, Hawk," she said gently, and kissed him. "I don't want to risk losing you. Bob will use my feelings for you against me."
"What if something happens to you? I couldn't live with myself if you were killed," he took her into his arms. Something clicked in his mind. "My God, Lydia, you're going in there to die. Is that why you went to bed with me last night? You're going to sacrifice yourself to save Cooper."
She looked down, trying to avoid his eyes. "What is it that your people say? It is a good day to die."
"You didn't answer my question."
"What happened last night was our choice. In retrospect, I guess I did make love to you because I was worried about what would happen. It doesn't diminish what happened between us. I love you, Thomas Hill," she pronounced with sadness.
"You need me in there, not Major Briggs," he looked her in the eye. "The Major is good, but I have the advantage of an unbroken line of Medicine People in my family. I can handle it. Besides, Grandma would never forgive you if you went in there without help."
She thought for a second. "My dream last night," she said with wonder, "you were in it. We were in the Lodge together."
"You see, it was meant to be. Trust your intuition, and stop trying to protect everyone." He kissed her, then she leaned her head on his shoulder. "Remember that love opens the door, too."
"You're right," she admitted. "I do need you in there, to keep me honest. Just do what I tell you, all right? Don't try to be a hero, like my damn fool brother."
"I'll do what is necessary, just like Jack did," he released her reluctantly "I guess we should go tell the Major."
"Yes, I suppose we should," she agreed.
Annie walked into the quiet darkness of Christ the Redeemer Catholic Church. It was almost seven, and confessions would be over soon. If something were to happen, she didn't want to die with sin on her soul. The darkness and sanctity of a church had always served as her comfort and refuge. The confessional was empty, and she walked up to it. With a slight hesitation, she opened the door and kneeled down. She made the sign of the cross. "Bless me Father, for I have sinned," she started. "It has been two months since my last confession."
"Yes, my child, go ahead," he encouraged through the curtain separating them.
"Father, I have committed several sins. I made love to a man whom I love with all of my being, although we are not married. I committed the sin of pride by competing in, and winning, a beauty contest. My punishment for these sins was to be," she hesitated, "attacked by another man."
"God doesn't punish people in that way. Don't blame yourself for what was done to you. The sin is on his soul, not yours."
"I have to go back tonight and face the man that violated me. I need strength, Father, because I'm afraid. I've been told that I have to confront my fears so I can overcome them."
"Yes, you must. Remember that Our Lord faced Satan and overcame him. For your penance, I want you to read Psalm 71 and meditate on it. Pray for forgiveness, and for the courage to forgive others for their trespasses against you."
"Thank you, Father. I will."
"In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, I absolve you of your sins. You may go, and sin no more."
Annie left the confessional and went to the nearest pew. She opened the Bible and found the Psalms. "In Thee, O Lord, I have taken refuge; never let me be put to shame. As Thou are righteous, rescue me and save my life; hear me and set me free, be a rock of refuge for me, where I may ever find safety at they call; for Thou art my towering crag and stronghold," she read silently. "Dear Lord, Thy will be done. Amen," she prayed aloud, then crossed herself. As she walked out of the church, an idea began to take shape in her mind.
Hawk stood on the threshold of his grandmother's door on the Black Lake Indian Reservation. He stepped back in shock as she opened the door without prompting. She stopped, looked him over from head to toe, and narrowed her eyes.
"Come on in, Thomas," she harrumphed, and motioned him into the living room. He followed her in, somewhat perplexed. Once inside, he took out of his pocket a pouch of tobacco, the traditional gift to a Medicine Person, and offered it to her. She accepted the offering. "She really means to do this?" the old woman asked. "To enter the Black Lodge to rescue your friend?"
Hawk nodded and shrugged. "I can't stop her. It would deny the thing that I love most about her, that stubborn independence." He paused, then confessed. "I'm going with her."
"Again, not entirely unexpected. The white men had a saying when I was growing up. There are no atheists in foxholes. So, you had a foxhole conversion, Thomas?"
"Grandma..."
"I know, don't call you that. Well, get undressed and come on out back when you're ready. I already have the rocks fired up. I was expecting you," she said, walking toward the back door.
As he watched her head out to the backyard, Hawk shook his head in resignation. He stripped to his shorts, wrapped a blanket around himself, and walked into the chilly evening.
"All right, Thomas," Mary said tartly as she waved smoke from burning sage and tobacco around him to smudge him. "The water, rattle, and sage are already in there. You alone know what you want to ask. Get yourself settled, then let me know when you want the first rock."
"For my relations," Hawk muttered the customary prayer as he entered the sweatlodge. The interior of the sweatlodge was dark and damp, with the light shining through a hole in one of the layers of covering. In the center of the sweatlodge was a pit dug into the earth. He settled near the door, clarified his thoughts, and felt his connection to Earth Mother. "All right, Grandma," he called. She opened the flap, muttered a prayer, and deposited the first rock from a shovel into the central pit. The temperature immediately rose to a comfortable level. Mary brought four more rocks into the pit in the same manner, then sealed the door.
Hawk sprinkled a few leaves of sage onto the hot rocks. As he did, he made a prayer to the spirits to guide him. After a few minutes, he picked up the gourd dipper in the water pail and poured the water on the rocks. He opened his mind and looked into the rising steam. In the billows, he thought he saw the form of an owl rising. Despite the hot temperature inside the sweatlodge, his blood turned ice-cold. As the steam cleared, so did his senses. In his mind's eye, he saw the owl fighting a hissing, spitting badger. While the badger was putting up a good fight, he could tell that the owl had the advantage. With that, the vision faded. He sat quietly for a while, then knocked on the door of the sweatlodge for his grandmother. She helped him out, and handed him a large glass of water.
He chugged the water as his grandmother regarded him silently. "Hawk," she started, using his totem name. He was so shocked that he choked, spitting water on the ground. "Don't be so surprised, grandson," Mary clucked. "You have earned it."
"But, what did it mean, Grandma?"
"The answers are inside yourself. I keep telling you that, but you won't listen. You call yourself Hawk. More like a fart-bird, if you ask me," she opened the door to the kitchen.
He sighed and shook his head. The old woman was incorrigible sometimes. He was glad to get back in the house and get dressed.
"Grandson, you would do well to remember the story of Fawn and Great Spirit. Because of Fawn's love, all creatures can walk freely with Great Spirit."
He paused before buttoning his shirt. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Listen and learn, grandson. Perhaps the way of the warrior is not the only way."
He looked at the old-fashioned black clock on the wall. It was eight o'clock. "Grandma, I need to go," he said, trying to get out of yet another one of her stories.
"Yes, it is time. I can't do any more for you. The rest you must do yourself," she embraced him. "Hawk, be careful. Look out for your young lady with the Badger Medicine." He stepped back and gave his grandmother a confused look, then shrugged. "I know more than you think, grandson. I just wish that I could give that knowledge to you. Be careful, and remember what I taught you."
"I will, Grandma. I promise," he said, kissing her goodbye.
Lydia went up to the suite and let herself in. Once in, she took off her jeans and flannet shirt, and pulled out black cotton leggings, and a black tunic from her bag. She got into the clothes with a practiced grace. A belt of silver cord went around her waist, and she fastened her athame, or witch's knife, on it. The knife was an eight-inch double-edged blade, razor sharp on both sides. It had saved her in both magical and mundane ways more than once. She also dug her rings from her purse and placed them on her left and right ring fingers. Lydia appraised herself in the dresser mirror and nodded with approval. She then took out the knife and walked in a clockwise circle for one rotation. She visualized a circle of blue flame coming out of the tip of the blade. When the circle was cast, she sat in the center in the lotus position. She meditated silently for a time, and then spoke aloud.
"Inanna, you who descended to depths of the Underworld to save your lover, Dumuzi, here the plea of your priestess! Queen of Heaven and Earth, I beseech thee. I ask thy aid in my working, and I ask you to keep safe those that I take with me into the underworld. Like you, Oh Lady, I set my mind toward the great below." Lydia silently meditated. As she did, she heard the words "Most strangely are the laws of the dark world effected. Do not question the laws of the netherworld," repeated in the back of her head. The phrase that the gatekeeper used as Inanna descended into the Underworld. In her mind's eye, she saw red flames and blood. A shiver went down her spine.
"Lady Inanna, watch over and guard me and mine. For the good of all, according to the free will of all, so mote it be!" With those words, Lydia stood up, and visualized the blue fire of the Circle dissipating. Then, she removed the object that Jack had brought her from home from it's protective newspaper wrapping. She regarded the silver arrow-shaped object, running her hand over it. "Dale," she muttered, "I'll bet you never thought that this would be put to such good use." Lydia replaced the wrapping, and put the object gently in her black bag. She put on her raincoat, took a deep breath to compose herself, and went down the hall to the elevator. There was one final act to be done. She stepped out of the elevator and walked the now-familiar path to Ben's office. Saying goodbye would be, by far, the most difficult thing she had ever done.