The Witch's Ladder (16 page)

“
What’s to know? You believe he did it, don’t you?”

“
Yes, but….”

“
What?”

“
It goes against the witch’s creed, ‘Take thy life not, as thou wouldst take thine own.”

“
But he’s evil. Isn’t there something in the witch’s creed for that? You have an obligation—to us, to Barbara, Chris and Travis. You know you do.”

“
Yes I suppose…..”

“
Then you’ll do it?”

She nodded, though her eyes remained fixed on a spot on the floor as distant as any star. “Yes.”

“
Good.”

“
Me too,” said Jean, the tone of defiance in her usually passive voice somewhat animated. “I’ll do it for my uncle and the good name of the Institution for which he stands. I’m not going to sit idly by and let Doctor Lieberman bring him and the Center down in ruins.”

The girls huddled in solidarity, their hands totem-poled atop one another. But the five could not pull it off alone. They could not take on the evil entity without the boys. Valerie looked back at Michael and Gordon, her brow arched in subtle request. The decision didn’t come so easily for them. Perhaps they were not as desperate, vulnerable, or convinced. They looked at each other.

“
What do you think?” Gordon asked. “Is this too crazy?”

Michael took a deep breath and let it out through bloated cheeks. “I don’t like it, Gordy, but I guess we don’t have a choice. We can’t go to Detective Marcella with what we know. Doctor Lieberman’s reputation is stellar. He’ll never believe us. I mean, come on. Think about it. Attraction of blood? Hell, it almost sounds too unbelievable for me. If we can kill Lieberman and get away with it, then we’ll have avenged the deaths of Travis, Barbara and Chris. If we get caught, well, at least we’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that we probably saved countless other lives; not the least of which could be our own.”

Michael turned toward the open lake at the south end of the gazebo. He pitched his gaze skyward. A thousand stars shone down, casting tiny rays of light that danced like nymphs on the water in glittering shapes. “We have powers that most people would envy,” he said, his back still to the others. “And yet we’re nothing more than mere specs in the greater scheme of things. Some of us dare to ask what it all means. Maybe it’s not for us to know.”

When he turned again, he saw Gordon and the others gazing on the water; a gentle peace reflected in their eyes. He knew what he had to do. “Our destinies lay waiting at the steps of the research center. Maybe it’s the reason fate brought us all here to begin with. I mean, do you think Detective Marcella would have had a chance to put all this together?”

“
No. I suppose not.” Gordon offered. “Not without our help.”

“
That’s right. It’s not his destiny.”

“
And you’re sure it’s ours?”

“
Yes.” He nodded. “We have to do this.”

The boys reached out and joined hands with the girls. After swearing allegiance to one another, Gordon brought up Leona’s name.

“
What about her?” Shekina asked.

“
Shall we tell her what’s going on?”

“
No. We tell no one outside this group.”

“
But Leona is in the group.”

“
No, she isn’t. She’s not in the group tonight.”

“
But she may be in grave danger. Doctor Lieberman knows she can identify him as the killer.”

“
The point is moot, ladies,” said Valerie. “I haven’t been able to reach Leona since the other night when she ran out of the room.”

“
Do you suppose she’s all right?”

“
I hope so. I can’t imagine where she could be. She doesn’t know anyone else in town but us.”

“
You know what I think?” said Michael. “I think the worst has already happened to her. If Doctor Lieberman went to see her after the workshop the other night, then he probably killed her. There’s no way he’d take a chance and let her tell someone what she knew.”

Valerie said, “Let’s hope you’re wrong about that,” and the tone of her voice said to drop it. “For Leona’s sake, let’s hope you’re wrong.”

They said nothing more about Leona, and the time came for the group to plan their course of action for what would become known as the operation.

Eight

The persistent drizzle that had so thoroughly soaked the landscape for a continuous eighteen hours finally let up by the time Akasha and Shekina completed the outline for their plan to kill Doctor Peter Lieberman.

“
This is how we’ll do it,” Akasha instructed. “We’ll go back to the research center tonight and wait for him to leave. When he does, Michael and Gordon will jump him and drag him into the bushes along the tree line this side of the parking lot.” As she spoke, Akasha drew an imaginary line on the gazebo floor, indicating the respective positions each would take up during the operation.

“
Once he’s in the bushes and out of sight, one of us will have to slice his throat like this.” She motioned with her index finger across her throat, starting at the bottom of her left ear and ending at the bottom of her right. “After we slit his throat, we’ll string him up by his feet from the nearest tree. That way all the blood will drain from his body and the essence of evil within him will ooze out with his blood.” As a conciliatory gesture, she added, “If you like, Lilith, you can cast a spell or something to banish his soul to the Eighth Sphere.”

Lilith forced a smiled, but it came out looking like a sneer. “No, that’s all right. I’m sure his soul will find its own way after that.”

“
It seems a little harsh,” said Gordon. “I mean the throat slitting. Can’t we just shoot him or something?”

“
Do you have a gun?”

“
No.”

“
Then we do it my way. Besides, Unless Doctor Lieberman’s blood spills completely, the evil does not die. Its essence will rise and seek another host. If not done correctly, it might choose one of us to carry on the evil. Do you want that someone to be you?”

Gordon didn’t answer, but his nervous smile told Shekina what she needed to know.

With that, the group returned to the research center and took up positions exactly as planned. The girls found cover in the brush behind the trees at the edge of the parking lot. Michael and Gordon hunkered down low behind Doctor Lieberman’s Mercedes which was backed into the space furthest from the front door. They crouched only a few moments before realizing they had overlooked one small detail.

“
It’s almost ten o’clock,” said Gordon, pointing to his watch. “What are we going to do?”

Michael said, “We’re going to need a back-up plan.”

They retreated into the woods and caught up with the girls.

“
Nice going, Akasha,” Michael said, his voice mixed with anger and disappointment. “Your perfect plan overlooked one minor detail.”

“
What?”

“
Marcella’s deputy.”

“
No big deal. Take him out.”

“
Are you insane? I’m not going to kill him.”

Akasha and Shekina both laughed. “You idiot, I don’t mean kill him. I mean take him out like you took out Doctor Lieberman tonight when you gave him that headache.”

“
Oh, right.”

“
What’s she talking about?” Valerie asked.

“
She’s talking about earlier tonight when I got pissed at Lieberman. I shot him with thought energy and gave him a mini-migraine.”

“
Really? You can do that?”

“
I did it. Didn’t I?”

“
Can you do it again?”

“
I suppose, but I never did it from such a distance before.”

“
You have to try,” said Akasha. “Everything is hinging on it.”

“
Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”

He turned back and crept guardedly through the brush until he reached a clearing at the edge of the lot. He crouched low, keeping within the shadows and setting himself up in a direct line of sight with the squad car. He closed his eyes and focused his thoughts on the deputy, managing through concentration to send out a high-level thought energy wave sufficient enough to disrupt the magnetic corona around the unsuspecting officer. Within minutes, it began working, and before they knew it, the deputy started his car, dropped it into gear and pulled away, leaving Doctor Lieberman alone and at their mercy.

At precisely twenty past ten, the anxious vigilantes-to-be spotted the lights in the second-floor window going out. The boys reclaimed their positions behind Doctor Lieberman’s Mercedes. Lilith and the twins kept back in the shadows behind the tree line, waiting nervously with the only tools for the operation they could find: a pair of jumper cables and a tire iron from the trunk of Gordon’s Chevy. At the other end of the parking lot, within eyesight of the main street, Valerie and Jean kept watch for traffic.

Moments later, Doctor Lieberman stepped through the plate-glass doors, unsuspecting and oblivious to the righteous arm of vengeance awaiting him. As he approached his Mercedes, his darkened silhouette stretched before him. A single chirp alerted Michael and Gordon that he had unlocked the car door by remote key entry.

The footsteps grew louder as he approached the vehicle, stopping with a scuff on the pavement as he reached the driver’s side door. The car door opened. Doctor Lieberman turned his back to the trees and to the two boys crouched below his line of sight. He extended his right leg over the threshold and proceeded into the Mercedes as he had done hundreds of times before. Three more seconds would have done it. Three more seconds, and he would have found the comfort, warmth and security of a precision-made luxury European automobile. But three more seconds were not afforded Doctor Lieberman that night.

On cue, Michael and Gordon sprang from behind the car and descended on the doctor like birds of prey, taking him by complete surprise. Michael reached him first. He grabbed Lieberman by the arm as he reached over to shut the door and dragged him out onto the cold, wet pavement, headfirst and facedown. The assault proved quick, precise and devastating. Before Lieberman’s keys hit the mat, Michael had him sprawled out flat with the hefty Gordon leaping unmercifully onto his back. Grunts of pain and snapping bones punctuated each body slam Gordon delivered. On the third jump, blood discharged from the doctor’s mouth; on the fourth, something resembling stringy hamburger discharged from his nostrils. The doctor struggled to catch his breath, coughing and choking laboriously, but the thick, dampened air smothered the mayhem in a cloak of muffled groans.

Except for the scuffling feet and tortured moans, the assault came off effectively stealthy. From the other end of the parking lot, Valerie and Jean heard nothing but their own rapid heartbeats and heavy breathing. They watched the attack as it unfolded with a sense of surrealism, accepting their involvement in the operation as an undesired necessity—foot soldiers in the greater war against evil.

With adrenaline soaring, Gordon and Michael continued pummeling their victim. They shouted for the girls to come help, fearing the larger and stronger Doctor Lieberman might eventually break free. But the reality proved less threatening, as the fight had long gone out of the old man. The once-feared and dreaded Surgeon Stalker could offer no substantial resistance.

Doctor Lieberman had by then figured out the identities of his assailants. He even called one of them by name between pleas of mercy. But no mercy came, just as no mercy came for Travis or Chris, as each gazed in horror into the eyes of evil with their entrails spilled out before them; or for Barbara, as she watched the mysterious dark figure through her rearview mirror. It sprang to life and pulled her back over the car seat, twisting her head until severing every connecting fiber to her brain. That, Michael and Gordon were determined, was the same mercy Doctor Lieberman would know that night.

Lilith and the twins hurried from the shadows and surrounded the doctor. At that moment, Lieberman caught some of his breath, and in his agony began calling for help. Even Valerie and Jean heard his cries. They ran to the scene, anxious and panting, and alerted the others that they could hear everything all the way across the parking lot.

“
You’ve got to shut him up,” Valerie warned. “Someone will hear us.”

Again, Lieberman wailed, this time louder, perhaps sensing his last chance.

“
Do it. Do it now,” she cried. “Finish him!”

In a take-charge stroke of leadership, Shekina grabbed the tire iron from Akasha and wedged herself between Gordon and Michael. Then with shocking precision, she delivered several powerful blows in rapid succession to Doctor Lieberman’s skull, the whirling tire iron narrowly missing both boys by only inches each time she drew back her arm. In a matter of seconds, it was over. Doctor Lieberman lay motionless, face down on the pavement; only a sickening gurgling sound escaped through the corner of his mouth in a mixture of frothing blood and spit.