Session 09 - Marcus Black

I woke early after our day with Janet, if it was the wine, the adrenaline passing or the constant urge to read the last book that I had kept secret from her, I don’t know.

My mind was racing as I rose, Carter still sleeping, the smell of whisky emanating from him was enough to drown out the faint aroma of the New York land cape just beyond the window of our current lodgings.

As I poured myself some coffee and took out the last book I had left in my possession left over from the pile taken in the lot sent to the university, Carter rose from his bed.  His first words to me where something in the way of Mexico and when shall we be departing.

I paid him little mind as the first page of this book had me already enthralled.

As I read silently in one of the Large chairs near the end of the living area, Carter began organising travel plans to Mexico, on the phone to Frank, he wanted to leave immediately, I think the idea of going somewhere exotic after our clandestine operations had him slightly more enthusiastic than usual.

We conversed as he packed his bag, the same one he had been carrying with him non-stop during the last several weeks we had been together.

We agreed that I would stay behind for a short time, as the book I was reading had me puzzled in several places.

I had to enlist the help of Father Gregory in order to gain a clearer understanding.

I would follow Carter in a day or so, we agreed that it would be slightly less conspicuous if only one man arrived in Mexico, rather than as two distinctive strangers, something that had clearly given us away to our adversaries during our travels.

Carter left in a hurry, leaving nothing to chance, he stuffed everything he thought necessary into his suitcase as he left the hotel.  This gave me the piece I had so desperately wanted to continue my reading.

This was an interesting book, all about the so called ‘Black Spires’, resembling that of the ancient obelisks of Egypt, only made entirely of some kind of black stone.

This seemed strange to me, some form of ancient civilisation according to this study had erected these pylons, only to have future generations attempt to topple them.  As I delved into the book, I only realised more and more that my understanding, although advanced from the last few weeks, required the help of my mentor.

I rose from my chair, unknowingly that the day had almost lost its light, early evening had passed when the grave desire to eat had taken hold of me.

I headed down to the dining room in the hotel, a quick stuffing of food into my face gave me the burst of energy I needed to make the necessary phone call to Father Gregory.

The discussion with Gregory was strange, very little help could be found, at the mention of what I was researching, his only words were to step back.  Slow down.  Think on my sins and those to come.

I realised at this that Gregory, in all his exploits was now watching me tread the waters he had yet to go, only one other that he knew of had even delved this deep into this kind of darkness.  Gregory explained to me the current disposition of Father Rigel, the mute who had travelled with me for so many years so long ago.

Father Rigel was the first man to share Father Gregory’s company who had seen the things I have seen; it was these descriptions that gave Gregory the drive to pursue these quests.  Rigel was not a mute, he removed his own tongue with a red hot knife, a Liston knife, used for amputation of body parts, he feared he was becoming too close to the evil he had been hunting, the sounds of the evil began to be regurgitated from him in his sleep, at the knowledge of this, he stood back, assuming the role of the quiet soldier in a company of young minds rather than an aggressive force of light in the dark.  He feared his light was in danger of being extinguished and replaced with only further darkness.

I realised that I had surpassed Gregory in my knowledge of the darkness.  While my faithful teacher, he feared to support me in my endeavours, he had seen what damage had been brought upon Rigel and feared the same for me.

I concluded my conversation to continue my reading, I was undeterred by Gregory’s words, I had seen too much, I had done too much to turn back.

Night came too quickly, strangely, the book revealed little to me, the only certainty was that I woke to find myself gripping the book in one hand, my pistol in the other.  I dropped both immediately, stunned to find that I had no recollection of acquiring either when I had turned in for the night.

Shocked, a shower was in order, I withdrew to the amenities and began soaking myself in the steaming water.

With every drop of water that splashed my face, it was as though I was being struck by overwhelming blows from the fists of Jack, the P.I who had broken my face.

Turning my back, the water felt like boiling oil, I could not understand it, the walls seemed to be running with what looked like darker water than that of the shower.  I closed my eyes tight, gripping me head in my hands before shaking my face frantically and opening my eyes.

Everything was alright, the water was soothing, the walls, still, the room, normal.

Collecting my thoughts, it was time to make for the airstrip, Frank had called with the departure time for me to leave to meet Carter in Mexico, my journey south of the border was beginning.