From the darkest corners of his mind, Walt Kessler was compelled to witness how his Honda rolled down the hill. He sensed that his spirit was about to die. The being inside of his body was much too strong to defeat. Rage and fury welled up inside of him. No, no one would ever be allowed to exploit his body! He felt brutalized and dirty.
He would have to do something - anything -while he still had some strength left. But what could he do? On the mental level he would never be able to defeat the thing in his brain. He would have to come up with some kind of a trick. Walt knew that he would perish. I would be his final battle. His last assignment, a task he would have to master. He considered his options as the thing steered his body and followed the road, which soon would bring them into the next town.
“I’ll have to distract the creature and confuse it so it will not search my thinking,” he thought.
Walt made attempts to control certain areas of his body. It took a while until he was successful. He transmitted a command to his right index finger and told it to move slightly forward and back. The finger obeyed his command and after a few minutes had passed, he knew that the thing had not even noticed what was going on.
Yawning, Padre Frank Marcus steered his service vehicle, as any polite person would have referred to it, down the road in the direction of Madison. The car was a nineteen seventy eight Lincoln Town car and every part of it seemed to rattle.
His church and his Parrish were both located in this big small town, as he often called it with a smile on his face. The Bishop’s residence was a long way from Madison and Padre Marcus, as his parishioners liked to address him, only had to visit him every three months to deliver his report. Padre Marcus considered making the trip a chore and he despised the fact that he had to justify what he did on the job. After all, he was quite advanced in age and he certainly knew how to run a church. The Bishop was a vain and haughty man and Padre Marcus resented him.
Now that he had the trip behind him, he would be able to live in peace for another three months, so he tried to put the memories of the encounter behind him. He had virtually left in the dead of the night to make it home as early as possible. A new day was dawning and the land was illuminated by the fresh morning dew. The road sloped slightly downhill through a small valley seamed by grassland and fruit orchards before it climbed back up in gentle curves to take him across the next hill.
In the morning twilight the priest suddenly noticed a movement in the valley below.
Quickly he ran his hand across his glasses to make sure they were in place and focused even more intensively on the way ahead. Yes, indeed, someone was crossing the road. The silhouette was staggering or limping and now it actually fell to the ground. The head of the individual turned around and stared in the priest’s direction.
The creature was mulling over its options of getting into a new host body as quickly as possible when it realized that its right leg had gone completely stiff. It tried to continue to walk on it and did not know why the body was reacting like this. It rocked back and forth and suddenly the other leg stiffened up as well. Walt Kessler’s body was losing its equilibrium and dropped forward. Instinctively, the arms thrashed toward to front to break the unavoidable fall. While it keeled over, the thing felt a person come closer even before it heard the vehicle. Its host body dropped hard on the asphalt and the creature turned its head. The approaching automobile came to an abrupt halt just a few feet in front of Walt Kessler’s body. The car door opened and a senior priest descended from it. The creature knew what a priest was. Immediately the creature escaped Walt Kessler’s body and overwhelmed the spirit of Padre Marcus.
A deafening scream came from the priest’s mouth and he touched his head. A piercing pain was penetrating his skull and he felt kind of foggy. He sensed how another spirit was taking over his body.
“My God,” he thought, “the Evil One has taken a hold of me. God help me, please.”
“And so it is!,” the priest heard a soundless voice tell him and next thing he knew, an incredibly powerful force pushed his spirit into the very bottom of his being.
The thing cheered. Whenever it had found a new victim, it felt invincible. All cozy now, it stretched its invisible tentacles inside the new host body and began to control all of its functions. Now it would get into the priest’s car and run over Walt’s body. This bastard had given him way too much trouble. Revenge, yes revenge was what the creature now wanted more than anything. I walked around to the other side of the car, climbed in and got behind the steering wheel. The engine would not start until it had made several attempts and its rumbling was worrisome at first. The creature shut the door, put the automatic transmission in D and looked straight ahead. But Walt Kessler was no longer there. He had left the scene. The thing began to search for him instantly with its mental sensors, but failed to locate Walt.
It contemplated whether it should get back out of the car, but thought better of it when a large truck appeared on the horizon on the top of the hill. The creature started to roll.
“He’s very likely dead anyhow,” the priest said.
Barely a minute later, the priest’s Lincoln passed the truck on the other side of the road.
From the trenches by the side of the road, concealed by the high grass, Walt Kessler’s incredibly tired eyes observed the car take off. A smile appeared on Walt’s lips before he fell into the deep sleep of a man who is terribly exhausted.
When Hanky had walked for about ten minutes and had almost left the village behind him, he noticed two things. His legs had taken him into this direction as if on auto pilot, as if they knew where they needed to carry Hanky. Moreover, this was not the way that would take him to his grandpa’s house.
Hanky was torn: Should he turn around and talk to his grandfather first? Yet something told him that he did not have any time to lose. So he kept following his trail and walked even faster. In front of a house, which was close to the Prisco town limits, he spotted a large truck that was parked there. The engine was already idling when the operator jumped out of the cabin and walked over to the house. Apparently the man wanted to pick something up inside the house before he hit the road.
“He probably forgot something!,” Hanky told himself.
Hanky had seen the man before and knew that he lived in the small house with his family. They’d lived there for about two years. He was frequently gone, because he liked to do the long hauls. They paid much better. Hanky was just approaching the truck when an idea flashed in his head. The trailer the truck was pulling was covered with a tarpaulin on top. In the back, it was tied down with a transparent piece of plastic rope. But not completely. At the bottom of the tarp, a small area was still open. All Hanky had to do was pull the rope out of three or four of the eyelets. He did just that and created an opening, he could slip through. Hanky pushed himself through the opening as fast as he could and made it into the loading area. As soon as he was inside he heard fast footsteps approach from the house. Next, he recognized the noises of a closing truck door and the howling and grumbling of the powerful engine. Rocking just a little bit, the truck began to move.
CHAPTER 10
That same morning, Ray Bergson woke up drenched in sweat. Hanky’s grandfather looked around his bedroom, totally confused. Everything was in its proper place, just