Soul Census - War of Shadows - Book 1

Chapter 4.4 - The Vortex

Earth Date: 15th of August 1939 CE
Location: Nyack Shipyards, New York, USA, Earth

Maddock grabbed the tiller and revved up the engine. He approached the Margarete’s stern, where the lighting was at its dimmest. As he got closer, he tried to find hints of any activity on the deck or within the superstructure, but she was a silent ghost ship.

He cut the engine and drifted. Blowing smoke from his ciggy, he followed the trails as they floated up toward the dark lady’s hull. For a freighter, she looked new—fresh paint and no marks on her. Maddock noticed something just above the waterline—strange symbols with sharp lines and what looked like two painted lightning bolts. He had heard that the German Nazi government used occult symbols in much of their propaganda.

Pretty brazen of them to practically give away their presence here with these markings. And with all the gunfire announcing their presence, one would think the police would have shown up by now. It seemed, though, that nobody in Nyack noticed anything that went on in their small town… giant snakes, demonic possessions, Rattlers. What are Nazis compared to that? Ignorance is bliss.

Bored, he lifted the scimitar with the intent of cleaning the blood off it, but again the blade was pristine and unscathed. This thing really does clean itself!

With his bags back near the pier, he only had his sword, the Ouija Transponder, and his last Lucky Strike to keep him company—Oh, and these two dead Krauts. Not the kind of company I normally keep. After eyeing the bodies—one headless, the other one cut in two—he was about to start rolling them off the boat when something caught his attention. A disturbance in the water—a rumbling that shook his little boat. He could hear the sound coming from the freighter.

At first, he thought its engines were starting, but then the sound of a bullet whizzing by erased that theory. Maddock ducked down. As he kept his head low, he searched the bottom of the boat for some iron but froze when a bullet sliced through the side, narrowly missing his head. More sporadic shots followed, hitting both the boat and the water.

One of the bullets embedded itself into the wood hull, close to his hand. There was something unusual about this bullet. Maddock fished it out, pulling it free of the hull. He immediately realized it was too long to be a bullet. He turned it over in his palm to inspect it—a rivet from the Margarete. The shooting rivets soon stopped, but the ominous sound of groaning metal replaced it—along with a rumbling that crescendoed to a near deafening level.

Maddock looked up at the hull of the freighter. From where the rows of rivets had shot out, beams of white light lanced out through the holes. He stood up and scanned the rest of the Margarete. The ship’s bow was torn open. A gaping hole emerged, which led deep into what looked like a tunnel. In its center was a white-and-red circle of light, with waves of energy rippling out like some kind of otherworldly fire.

Inside this raging vortex, Maddock could make out the shadow of two men. One, who wore an officer’s cap, stood before an ornate golden chest. The other held a sword… and something on his head that glowed. The officer pulled something out of the chest—a huge skull emanating a black aura that pierced through the light like shadow. The man with the sword approached the officer, his sword leveled threateningly.

As Maddock tried to better define what he was seeing, a sudden force knocked him back, jerking the boat and nearly felling him. The river around him came alive, with violent currents sucking everything into the vortex like a vacuum—pieces of wood beams from the pier, metal from the freighter… and even his small boat.

Maddock rushed to start the onboard motor. He grabbed the tiller, attempting to steer the boat away from the vortex. At first, it continued to suck him in, and he thought it was not going to work, but slowly the boat veered off the path of the currents and then picked up speed as it moved away from the freighter. He dared a look back as his boat chopped through the river. He could see something within the vortex.

The officer with the skull was gone, but he saw the man with the sword. Something else was with him… a massive, inhuman creature—black but illuminated by purple points of light on its body.

Something from the sword wielder blocked out some of the light—Wings? The creature charged at the winged man, who swung at it with his sword. The two fought. As Maddock watched, he felt a strange impression, almost like a voice in his head… a familiar voice. He somehow knew it emanated from the winged man in the vortex. It said that he was an angel from the Spirit Realm and that he was here to help Census.

I know you, Maddock thought. But from where? Or when …?

Sudden splashes of water erupted ahead of him. Heads popped up from the water. Heads with pale skin and black eyes. They tried to grab onto the boat as it sped past.
Maddock let go of the tiller and bashed at them with his sword.

He severed the meat hooks from one and watched it drift away, stumps flailing away in the water. Another one managed to stay on, pulling himself up onto the boat. It was a man… one of the Huns he’d shot earlier. Part of his head was still blown off, but it kept coming at him. If he were just a man, he would be dead, but Maddock realized now what he was dealing with—Rattlers!

Maddock tried to strike him with a kick, but the thing caught his foot with deft speed, twisted it, and tripped him. This thing was fast for a corpse, but Maddock was just as fast. He broke his fall with one hand and then twisted his body around with his sword extended. The blade sliced across the Rattler’s body, opening up its belly. Rather than entrails, a mass of black snakes poured out of it.

Maddock jumped up in revulsion as the serpents slithered toward him. In a flash, he swung his blade at them, littering the deck with snake parts.

Feeling a swell of anger, he rushed at the Rattler. Slashing his blade wildly, he cut his foe from limb to limb—first the arms, then its drumsticks, and then its head, which he flung off the edge of his blade. It splashed into the water. The butchered, limbless body crumpled inside the boat. From within the eviscerated corpse, Maddock could see red maggots worming their way out of the open cavities.

“Rest in pieces,” Maddock said.

The sound of sirens in the distance got his attention. Coppers! He whirled around and saw a couple of black police sedans rolling into the shipyard. About time all this commotion got someone’s attention.

Suddenly, Maddock felt a strong hand grab his ankle—from the body of one of the Huns he had killed. He tried pulling away, but its grip was strong. It reached out and grabbed his other ankle, pulling Maddock off his feet and slamming him onto his back.

Maddock swung his scimitar down at it with a roar, but the thing dodged. His sword missed, embedding itself into the wood of the boat. The Rattler then pounced onto his arm, breaking Maddock’s grip on the sword. He tried to wiggle away from the Rattler, but it crawled on top of him, holding him down. Its lifeless, bulging red eyes bore down on him. It resembled the empty gaze of a cadaver, like the countless he had seen in war… only this one moved and was trying to kill him.

He punched at it, his fists making that usual chin music that would normally bring down any man—but not this time. His foe seemed impervious to the blows. The Rattler brought its hands down around his neck. Maddock grabbed its wrists, trying to push them away, but its hands continued to inch closer, possessing a superhuman strength that rivaled his own.

As Maddock fought the Rattler off, he caught a glimpse of the Margarete, which was breaking into pieces. The stern broke away and began to sink, while the bow imploded inwardly, pieces of it sucked into the vortex. Maddock darted his eyes around, looking for something—anything that could help him get this Rattler off him.

Think, Maddock, think!

The boat’s engine was still running. The Rattler blocked the tiller, but it was still within reach of his feet. Maddock ignored his own choking and snaked his way down, using his legs to pull himself under the Rattler and closer to the motor. Things went dark for a second. The choking… can’t breathe! Have to… fight it.

Maddock willed himself out of it; he had to hold out longer. He rocked, twisted, and kicked with all of his strength. Those white eyes crept closer, and a sardonic smile crept across its lifeless face. It was beginning to go dark again, but Maddock kept kicking. Just as it seemed as if he was done for, his foot managed to kick the tiller, sending the boat into a rapid spin.

The Rattler lost its balance and fell over. Maddock quickly regained his senses and bolted up. He went for his sword, dislodging it from the boat. The Rattler was bent over, its head sticking out as it tried to stand back up. Maddock smiled as he swung his sword down at the neck, parting head from body. He kicked at the body, sending it into the water—now truly a lifeless stiff.

Maddock resumed controlling the boat, straightening it out toward the pier. He glanced down at the other dead German in the boat. Although it did not have a head, he was not taking any chances and let go of the tiller a moment to roll the stiff off the boat and into the water.

Just as he began to dock at the pier, he realized that his watch was beeping. The signal! Shit! How long ago did it go off?

Angry at himself for missing it, Maddock dug into his jacket and pulled out the Ouija Transponder. The device felt alive—a strange vibration ran through his arm as he held it. He cast one last look at the freighter, seeing that the vortex had sucked in half the ship. The other half was submerged, but he could see it being pulled into the vortex as well. There were no signs of Wolfe, but he somehow sensed he was alive somewhere. He hoped it was away from here.

Maddock pushed the jewel and then …

Nothing.

He pushed it again and again. Still nothing.

Suddenly, he felt a vibration in his hand. As he held the Ouija, it began to crack and crumble. Within seconds, it became a handful of powder. The remains slipped through his fingers, falling to the bottom of the boat as tiny dust particles.

“Shit!” Maddock said aloud. “I broke it.”

A rumble of thunderstorms pierced the silence. All around him, the illumination provided by the full moon became eclipsed by crimson-colored clouds. Maddock lowered his gaze to the horizon. A deep ruby-colored fog appeared, rolling toward the pier with the ferocity of a tidal wave. From it, he heard strange sounds—the beating of drums and what sounded like war cries from bands of angry Indians.

Maddock drew in his mind an image of what was about to jump out of the fog—an army from hell itself? Perhaps the spirits of dead Indians? Or some other demonic horror? But when the fog splashed onto the pier and its occupants emerged from it, he realized that his imagination might as well have produced fluffy kittens compared to what stepped out of the fog.

For the first time in a long time, Maddock trembled in fear. The Furies had arrived… and he was in their way.