Doc hunkered on his haunches. “This is the most beastly hole that we’ve ever found ourselves in. I confess that I had never looked for such a sorry conclusion to this strange expedition.”
“Not over till the fat lady sings, Doc,” Mildred said. “We have to trust them.”
“Why?” Dean was almost in tears, rubbing at his eyes with his sleeve. “Why trust those fuckheads? We helped them. Saved their pesthole ville from the dangers. We did that, and all they do is try to chill Jak.”
“Their religion,” Krysty said, running her fingers through her hair. “They think it was really Jak who did it all for them. We were just along for the ride. Long as they keep their white-headed god with them, they’ll be fine, with good crops and strong, healthy children. Their religion.”
“Why didn’t he answer, Dad? When you asked about coming by in two weeks?”
“I don’t know, son. Got some guesses, but none of them’s good ones.”
Everyone started to speak at once until Ryan clapped his hands sharply. “Quiet! I’ve been thinking since we left the village. Simple.”
“Go on, lover,” Krysty prompted.
“They aren’t stupid. They’ll expect us to try a rescue. Be looking for us around dawn. We won’t be there. Wait out here for the rest of the night.” He dropped his voice. “Scout around and see if they’re out there, watching us.”
“Jak could be dead by the dawn,” Mildred stated, “unless they really have an antidote.”
Doc coughed. “Nothing else makes sense, Dr. Wyeth, does it? If they have no antidote to the poison, then the lad is doomed. There is nothing we can do to save him, is there? I believe that they will save him. But for what and how long? Those are more pertinent questions.”
Ryan looked around him. “We’ll go a little farther away, then start to circle. J.B., you can split off from us and backtrack. See if there’s someone watching us. But leave that for an hour or so. Give anyone time to give up and go back to the village.”
“When do we go in?” Krysty asked.
Ryan leaned his hand against a smooth-boled tree, looking up at the serenely sailing moon. “I think we have to take a chance on this one.”
“What kind of chance, Dad?”
“Way I see it, they’ll save Jak’s life. But they want him for something. I got an uneasy feeling about why they need him. You feel anything, lover?”
Krysty shook her head. “Not really. Nothing I can lay a finger onto.”
“But?”
“But I don’t pick any good vibrations. He’s their chosen god. Spoken of in the olden times. Mebbe times that are older than anything we can know.”
Doc nodded. “There are mysteries back in time that no man can comprehend. Old cities buried beneath the dark weight of the waters. Monstrous horrors from beyond cold space. Entities so blasphemous that a human mind that confronts them can only lose its hold on sanity and become a gibbering madman. In his house at R’lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming.”
“What was that crap, Doc?” Mildred snapped. “Times I think you’re a few test tubes short of a laboratory.”
He smiled gently at the woman. “And there are many times that I would agree with you, my dear friend. My mind wanders off on pathways of its own, and I have scant control over it. My apologies to you.”
She shrugged. “Well Now you make me feel bad, you old bastard, Doc. Just forget it. I’m worried sick to my heart about young Jak.”
“We all are, Mildred,” Ryan said. “And we’ll do what we can for him.”
“When?” J.B. was busily polishing his glasses. “They’ll have a good watch on him.”
“I know it.”
“What if they decide to do something to Jak tomorrow? We won’t be able to do a thing.” He replaced the spectacles on the bridge of his bony nose.
Ryan straightened. “We’ll be close by. Not going to be any rest for anyone tonight. Going to be a long, hard trudge through the forest. Try and get back, somewhere close to the village during the morning. Come in from the north. Hide up near that pyramid place. Everyone ready?”