Lonetree snorted. “You guys murder little kids but can’t stomach calling it killing?”
Max winced but otherwise ignored the comment. “Anyway, the first sacrifice was one of the guys with us, a friend of mine actually, named Frank Jeter. Huckley discovered a loose rock on the stone structure. It was circular, not more than a foot in diameter. Huckley pried it loose and pulled it out, revealing a hole that went right into the structure. The Boss told Jeter to go throw a rock into the hole. He did and the rock bounced inside, confirming our hopes; the structure was hollow.
We all thought the same thing. No one would go through all the trouble to build such a thing unless it was to keep something safe inside. Something valuable. Gold, we thought. I guess Jeter thought the same thing. The Boss didn’t even have to tell him to look inside. Jeter did that all on his own.
“He wasn’t looking into that hole for more than a few seconds when it happened. Even now I can’t think about it without cringing. It was the shock factor, you know. None of us expected what was going to happen and that made it all the more terrible to watch.”
Max tipped his glass back until the ice tumbled against his lips and the last of the booze dripped into his mouth. He sucked in one of the ice cubes and crunched it between his molars.
“Whatever Jeter saw in there, it was the last thing he used his eyes for. No more than three or four seconds after he put his face up to the hole in the rock, Jeter’s body lurched forward like he was trying to force his face through the opening. He beat the palms of his hands against the rock, trying to push back. A few of us laughed. Jeter was always playing jokes. This one was in bad taste because we were so scared to begin with, but it was still funny. That is, until he started to scream.
“Then his legs shot out straight under him, rigid like electricity was going through them. The scream became garbled as his face wedged deeper into the hole. I went to grab for him. But I was standing next to the Boss and when I moved forward he reached out and took me by the arm. His eyes never left Jeter’s writhing body, but I understood. Whatever was happening, the Boss wanted to see the thing play out.
“Right then, Jeter’s feet jerked off the ground. I mean both of them, like he was levitating in some magic show. But he wasn’t floating. Violent spasms tore through his body as it rose up into the air until his legs were parallel to the floor.
“Jeter’s face was still pressed into the opening, so as his body rose higher we could hear the pop-pop-pop as his spine cracked into pieces. Even so, he was still alive.
“His torso suspended in the air, like a pole had shot out from the hole and skewered the length of him. That was exactly what it was like, a living piece of meat on a rotisserie, limbs flapping spastically in all directions.
“Then, as if seeing him like that weren’t enough, I could see something moving under his clothes. Where it was exposed, I saw bulges moving under his skin. I thought whatever was underneath would rip through the flesh and pop through.
“You what to know what I thought it was? Rats. Can you believe that? I thought maybe it was a bunch of starved rats that had crawled in through Jeter’s mouth and were going to town on the poor guy’s insides. Sounds nuts, but as horrible as that was, it was still better than the other option. If it wasn’t rats doing it then it was something outside of my understanding. Something evil and powerful. And sure to kill me just like it was doing Jeter.
“Then, in the middle of my panic, without any warning, Jeter’s body went limp and slumped to the ground.
“No one moved. We just stared at the man’s destroyed face, no more than a mushy plump with strands of his entrails hanging from his mouth. Janney turned and threw up at the sight. But not Huckley. And not the Boss. While we were scared for our lives and our sanity, they were enthralled. Like they had made some great discovery. Turns out this was exactly what they had been looking for all along. Seeing Jeter die just confirmed things for them.”
“What do you mean they were looking for it? How could they know?” Lonetree asked.
“They were just like your father and brother,” Max said. “They had done their research, pieced together the folklore and the Indian legends. They went searching for the lost tribe of the Sumac. And they found them. Or what was left of them anyway.”
Jack cut in before Lonetree could say anything about the implied insult of his family being grouped together with Huckley.“So what was in the stone structure? You call it the Source, but of what?”
Max looked at his empty glass and swirled the ice. Jack wondered how many drinks the man had before they arrived. Dark bags hung under Max’s eyes and his pupils were glazed over. When he started to speak again, Jack heard the slur in his voice.
“Well, after watching Jeter die, we all wanted to get out of there. All of us except Huckley and the Boss, of course. They were pointing to the carvings on the walls and arguing back and forth. We couldn’t tell what the argument was, only that the Boss gave in and agreed with Huckley. Then Huckley walked back, ripped the clothes from Jeter’s body, pulled out a knife and started cutting. Piece by piece, he fed the body through the hole in the wall. None of us helped, not even the Boss, but none of us left either. We were too afraid and too awed by what we saw when Huckley cut into Jeter’s body.”
Max paused. He knew he had his audience well-salted and seemed to enjoy stretching out the moment. Finally, somewhat disappointed neither of his captors had begged him to go on, he continued. “You see, when Huckley cut into the Jeter’s flesh, there was no blood. Not a drop.”
Jack clenched his hands into fists from frustration. He knew he needed to hear this but he couldn’t beat back his incredulity. Things like this simply were not real. There had to a rational explanation for it all. Jack couldn’t shake the sensation that everything that had happened to him was a massive practical joke and at any minute someone would jump out from behind a curtain, point to a hidden camera and laugh. You fell for that? What an idiot!
A body drained of blood. This was the stuff of late night cable television not real life. But still, he ticked off the tangible evidence in his brain. There was the photograph of Max. Huckley’s appearance in the cave. The fact that Sarah had been kidnapped just like Huckley had said. There was too much evidence not to believe. And to believe part of the story meant he had to take all of it. Bloodless corpses, supernatural forces. All of it.
What bothered him most about the story, he realized, was that Max was describing the same ritual Sarah would be subjected to if he didn’t save her in time. As Max described the grisly scene, Jack saw his daughter in place of the man. Thinking of her death was hard enough, but hearing the torture she would have to endure was too much to bear.
He tried to refocus on Max. The slur in his speech was more pronounced now and his eyes drooped as if he fought off sleep. Jack wondered if he might have taken something more than alcohol before they had arrived. He hoped Max’s condition would loosen his tongue.
“I think you’re full of shit.”
Max blinked hard as if focusing on his old friend was a particularly hard thing to do. “You do, huh? Well, you weren’t there were you? You can kiss my ass if you don’t believe me.”
“Make me understand then. How does it work?”
Max smiled and wagged a finger at him. “You’re trying to get me to tell you all the little secrets. Very clever, Jack. Very clever. Hell, I’ll tell you. It’ll cost you another glass of bourbon though.” He waited until Jack filled his glass before he continued. “After Huckley pushed the body through the hole, we waited for something incredible to happen, but nothing did. Minutes passed and still nothing. There was no sound inside the structure. The silence was more unnerving than any sound I could imagine. Then finally, Huckley cried out and pointed to a spot on the wall. We all saw it. A thin line of blood dripping down the rock face, as if the stone itself was bleeding. We crowded around it, holding our lanterns in a circle. The Boss inspected the area and found a small hole out of which the blood oozed, as if from a small scratch. The Boss and Huckley were ecstatic, talking about how it was just like the carvings. Then Huckley did it.”