Carnacki: Heaven and Hell Page 3

  “It began some three weeks ago with a telegram.

  “‘Request your services immediately at Larkhill Barracks. George Blandford (Colonel)’

  “Now you chaps know me by now. I am not the kind of man to turn down such a request, no matter how curtly it has presented itself. The next morning I was on a train to Salisbury and from there by cab to the testing ground at Larkhill.

  “I was almost turned away at the perimeter by an over officious guardsman, but once I showed him the telegram I was allowed through and was escorted by an armed soldier to a tented village. There, in the largest of the tents, I was finally presented to Colonel Blandford.

  “It was immediately apparent that the man was in quite a funk. Indeed, he seemed less like a military man and more like someone on the verge of diving into a bottle with no intent of surfacing. After no more than the most basic of introductions he launched into his story. As he talked, it was punctuated by munitions going off all around us, and that only served to lend verisimilitude to the yarn he spun.

  “‘Before I start,’ he said. ‘I must inform you that this must remain strictly confidential. If word of what is happening here ever gets out, it may give the enemy a distinct advantage.’

  “I did not bother inquiring as to which enemy. There is always one.

  “The Colonel continued.

  “‘It began last week. We were ordered to start testing on a new gun, the Hotchkiss Mark I. We had it set up on a mound out on the plain that we have used in the past as a piece of higher ground. Gunnery Sergeant Rogers was keen to see what the new weapon could do and once we had the dummies in place he set about mowing them down, thirty rounds at a time. The air was full of the din for many seconds.

  “‘I went to inspect the damage to the dummies, but only got halfway across the field when Sergeant Rogers started to scream. Now you must understand Mr. Carnacki. Rogers is one of the stoutest men I have ever served alongside. Yet he was in such terror that he had to be restrained forcefully to prevent injury to himself.

  “‘A few stiffeners in the mess later and he was more his old self again, but no amount of ordering was going to get him back on that mound. He has not talked of exactly what brought on such terror, but that night everyone in camp got a small taste of it.

  “The Colonel opened his desk drawer and removed a hip flask. He took a long smooth gulp.

  “‘It is the nightmares that do it, Mr. Carnacki. Such dreams as no Christian man should have to suffer. Every time we fired that blasted gun on top of the mound the man on the gun suffered a blue funk. The night afterwards, the dreams returned to us all. And the drums -- the infernal drums.

  “‘After a while we stopped using the mound altogether. We could not get a man to go up there, even under threat of court-martial. But it was too late. The drums, and the dreams have continued for us all.’

  “His voice dropped to a whisper.

  “‘And they are getting stronger.’

  * * *

  “Now I have seen hysteria before now,” Carnacki continued. “But never among a band of military men hardened by battle and united in camaraderie. At that stage I thought they might be suffering from a common delusion, but I would not know the details of the matter until I got to the cause.

  “That afternoon I went out onto the firing range with a young private who was clearly terrified even before we got close to the mound.

  “‘You do not have to do this,’ I said to him as we left the Colonel’s tent.

  “He was ashen-faced and his lower lip trembled. He looked to be no more than eighteen years old and his uniform had clearly been intended for a larger man. But his gaze was clear and bright as he looked me in the eye.

  “‘I have my orders sir,’ he replied. “And Jimmy Carruthers ain’t no coward.’

  “He led me out onto the range.

  “Almost immediately I saw the mound I realized what it was. It was a long barrow, a large example of the species that are found liberally scattered all over the Plain and surrounding hills. Remarkably this one seemed to be still intact, having never been plundered by treasure seekers.

  “I was soon to find that there was a good reason that this particular site had remained unspoiled.

  “Even before we started to make our way up the slight incline I felt the malign influence of the place. It thrummed, like a dynamo underfoot, and the young private stopped, unsure as to what he was feeling.

  “I put a hand on his shoulder.

  “‘I am here with you lad. Let us get this over with, then you and I can have a smoke and a beer in the mess.’

  “He smiled at that, and it was enough to get him moving, but by Jove, we wanted to turn and flee with every step. The view from the top of the mound temporarily relieved the symptoms. We looked out from a raised elevation over a large flat plain. Some five hundred yards distant stood a row of straw dummies – our target for the test.

  “The Hotchkiss gun lay under a tarpaulin and it was a matter of seconds before Carruthers was ready. He lay on his belly and set aim at the dummies. I pressed my hands over my ears, but the din when he started to fire was still deafening.

  “Now you chaps know that I have faced terror many times afore now, and have been so close to death that I have felt its cold breath on my face. But those times were all as nothing compared to the sheer funk that descended on me as those shots were fired and the mound began to echo in time.

  “It began with a reverberating vibration that shook the ground beneath us, as if a giant might be attempting an awakening from a buried sleep. Carruthers tried to stand but the shaking was so violent that he immediately fell back to lie on the ground beside the gun, fear huge in his eyes. The vibrations soon shook me to my very core, threatening to shake my flesh loose from my bones. I too fell on the grassy mound as darkness seeped in at the edge of my sight.

  “In less time than it took to draw a breath I was blinded, groping in the darkness as the ground rose and fell around us.

  “But that was not the worst of it. I was in blackness. But I was not alone.

  “A drumbeat had started and I felt it just as much in the pit of my stomach as I heard it in my ears – a giant drum, distantly far, but getting closer every second, beating as fast as my terrorized heart. Something moved in the dark, something huge. I was lost in a world of fear, like a child in a dark room when he senses movement under his bed. The blackness surged, washing over me in waves. I wished I were dead so that I might be free of this. Somewhere in the dark young Carruthers screamed, but try as I might I was unable to find him. I was utterly lost, utterly alone.

  “And just as I thought I could take no more, something in the blackness reached for me.”

  * * *

  Carnacki paused to knock the ash from his pipe and refill it from his tobacco pouch. None of us spoke. We knew from long experience not to disturb the flow of the story at this juncture. There would be plenty of time for questions later – if any were needed.

  * * *

  “It was not my fortitude, but that of young Carruthers that saved us from any assault. By some means he got his hands in the weapon and fired round after round into the ground at our feet. My sight recovered sufficiently to see mud and earth fly where the shots tore into the ground. The giant drumbeat faltered. It did not stop completely, but its effects diminished sufficiently that I was able to drag the young soldier off the mound and onto safer ground.

  “The further we got from the source, the more the feelings receded until we were able to drop to the ground, ourselves once more, but totally spent.

  “And that is where the Colonel and the others found us, lying a hundred yards from the mound and too weak to stand, too weak even to speak. I was ignominiously carried off to a tent and a camp bed that felt better than any feather pillow.

  “Sleep did not come easily. Every time I closed my eyes I saw blackness where something dark, huge and old lurked. I didn’t know whether it was aware of me or not, but I did not wish to take any chanc
es. My whole body seemed to sing with a deep bass note that took hours to subside and even then I still felt it when I touched my teeth with my tongue. I could lie there no longer. I got up and went in search of a smoke.

  “As always, a pipe of my best shag soon had me calm and able to consider the situation with some degree of rationality. Soon I had convinced myself. I believed the origin of the happenings to lie in a strange but perfectly understandable cause that I have seen before, and indeed, I have previously related the story to you chaps. You may remember my tale of the Jarvee and the phenomenon known as attractive vibrations. Harzam, in his monograph on "Induced Hauntings," points out that such are invariably produced by "induced vibrations," that is, by temporary vibrations set up by some outside cause. Well I had my cause, in the rhythmic rat-a-tat of the gunfire. Something in the mound was sympathetic to the sound, and answering in kind.

  “All I had to do was prove it, and for that, I was going to need both the help of the Colonel, and the use of some equipment I had at hand back in my lodgings in London.

  “Before repairing back to the camp bed I told the Colonel of my plans, and had him send for my things. I retired to bed happy that I had taken some degree of control over the situation.

  “That feeling lasted only as long as it took me to fall asleep. The dream came immediately.

  “It started in pitch blackness. A drum was beat in the distance, a deep thudding like a hammer on metal. I tried to wake myself, for somehow I knew this to be a dream, but I was locked in place, unable to move, unable even to scream as the beat grew louder and the blackness darkened. Soon the drum pounded in my ears so loud that I thought I would never hear anything else again. In the dark something shifted… and moved closer.

  “I woke in a cold sweat.

  “I immediately knew that there would be no more sleep for me that night. I took my pipe and went outside. As I lit up I could see thin tendrils of smoke drifting skywards from tents all around me. Lamps were on in many of them and I could hear murmured conversations from the bigger tents where several men were billeted together. I doubt if there was a single man in the camp yet asleep.

  “In the morning the Colonel took my advice and raised camp, moving the whole operation several miles to the north. It took until well after noon, but it was immediately apparent that the moral of the troops had improved.

  “As for myself, I approached the mound with some trepidation, but I was determined to prove my theory of induced vibrations.

  “To my surprise and delight young Carruthers volunteered to accompany me. I also prevailed on the Colonel for the assistance of a draftsman. This turned out to be a serious chap from Yorkshire by the name of Brown who scarcely uttered a word but produced the most wonderful detailed drawings.

  “We spent much of that first day in measuring and describing the exterior dimensions of the mound. There was no repeat of the terrors of the day before, although there was a constant low thrumming all across the mound, as if something was just waiting to be kicked into action once more.

  “Carruthers and myself left Brown to finish his preliminary drawing and lit up some smokes. The young private was obviously already an old hand. He had rolled a needle-thin smoke and had it lit even before I got my pipe full. He held it cupped backwards in his hand to protect it from the wind and when he took a drag of smoke it was the furtiveness of a man well used to taking his pleasure under the threat of being found out.

  “We were still smoking when Brown called us over. His examination of the ground had borne fruit and he stood in a slight depression. He had pulled some of the topsoil aside and pointed downward to a deeper hole that led into blackness.

  “We had found the entrance.

  * * *

  Carnacki paused once more -- this time to allow us to recharge our glasses and get some fresh smokes going. While we were occupied he himself sat and stared into the fire. I noticed for the first time that there were dark bags under his eyes, and a strain showing there that I had never previously seen.

  He looked like a man who had not slept well for quite some time. Indeed, I would have prevailed on him to save the tale for another night, but he waved me aside, intent on continuing.

  * * *

  “I went down into the barrow later that afternoon armed with nothing more than a lamp. At first the interior looked as I would have expected. The walls were built of large blocks of sandstone, beautifully engineered and dovetailed together so tight that you could scarce slip a sheet of paper between them. I have visited several Neolithic tombs, in Carnac, in Orkney and on Dartmoor. This gave the same sense of age, of a time long past. What I hadn't expected, what was completely different, was the overwhelming feeling that this place was in use.

  “The initial chamber was some ten feet long, and half as wide. Small passages led off on either side leading to sub-chambers, all of which were dry, but empty. Brown entered behind me and started to make measurements. Young Carruthers loitered at the entrance, too scared to enter, but driven by his duty to help me. I took pity on him and told him he could have a smoke break as I headed deeper into the mound.

  “The ground descended at the far end of the chamber, leading me down an incline and into a larger room beyond.

  “It was a rough-hewn chamber of some antiquity, and unlike the smaller chambers near the entrance, this one was far from empty. The walls were covered in small, tightly packed carvings. At first I thought it might be a language, but it was none that I recognized from my studies, indeed, it seemed to bear no resemblance to anything I had ever seen before. Brown was equally as puzzled when he arrived and the pair of us spent some time studying all the carvings searching for meaning. None came.

  “All the time I had been in the mound I was aware that the vibrations underfoot continued apace. But as yet there was no sign of any drumming or anything that might suggest a return to the full shaking terrors of the day before.

  “For that, I needed the trigger, but I was loath to implement that plan without a better understanding of the outcome. That meant there was nothing for it but to try and decipher the carvings. Brown and I started in straight away, him taking meticulous drawings as I divided the large wall area into manageable sectors.

  “Light was fading on the first day before we emerged and dragged our weary bodies across to the camp’s new location. That night everyone slept soundly, with no interruptions for dark things moving to the beat of giant drums.

  “Morale in the camp was much improved in the morning, and my own spirits were raised by the arrival of my things from London, including the two phonographs I had requested.”

  * * *

  Carnacki had not paused, but Jessop interrupted the tale.

  “Phonographs? Oh, I say. Have you got the four-minute cylinders? They say the quality is the best yet, although Gramophone quality is also improving. I believe discs are going to be the thing to have next year. But…”

  If allowed, Jessop would go on about his equipment for hours. Luckily one look from Carnacki put paid to that.

  Carnacki allowed us a second to settle before resuming.

  * * *

  “We spent the next three days merely cataloguing the extent of the wall carvings in the chamber, and poor Brown was exhausted by the end of it. But he had provided me with a complete annotation of everything we could see. Unfortunately I could still make neither head nor tail of it. The Sigsand MS was no help, holding no descriptions of any such markings. I saw nothing for it but to proceed with the experiment and pull the trigger.

  “The case took on a further degree of urgency when the men sleeping nearest the mound started to complain of a return of the dreams. It seemed the effects of the mound were still spreading.

  “The next morning Carruthers helped me record the sound of the Hotchkiss Mark I onto a cylinder. Then we lugged the phonograms and a battery big enough to drive them down to the mound.

  “Once again I took pity on the lad and allowed him to stay at the entrance as I went down to
the chamber. We had set the two phonograms in the centre of the space. I steeled myself for whatever might happen and set the first cylinder going.

  “The sound of gunfire filled the chamber.

  “The drumming started almost immediately. I set the second phonogram to record and left the chamber at a run. Even before I reached the entrance I could feel the darkness creep and reach for me. I threw myself out into the open just as it threatened to blind me. Carruthers half-carried me across the Plain until we reached a place where the vibrations were manageable and we stood, sharing one of his smokes. After what seemed like an age the drumming finally subsided. I crept back into the mound and retrieved the phonographs.

  “I had my recording. But it had come at a cost. That same night the dreams came again, to every man in the camp.”

  * * *

  “Matters did not improve in the morning. I was summoned to the Colonel’s tent to be met by an officious little man in a suit who was introduced as Jenkins from the Ministry.

  “This man proved to be most interested in my research, and indeed seemed to know every detail of what had already occurred. He demanded to listen to the recording I had made the day before. I tried to appeal to the Colonel, but it seemed that the Ministry man outranked anyone else at the camp. Even when I explained what I considered to be the danger of sympathetic vibrations, still the man insisted. I had no choice but to comply.

  “I had no idea what the outcome would be of playing the recording. The trigger, I already knew, was the rhythm of the gunfire, but I also knew from a harsh lesson learned that the very sound of the drumming would induce terror in even the strongest of hearts while in the vicinity of the mound. Whether that would be the case here in the camp, I had no way of knowing. It was with some trepidation that I switched on the phonogram.

  “The sound of drumming filled the tent and I waited for a reaction.

  “The syncopated rhythm might have set one’s feet tapping, but the drumming proceeded to its end with no other power than that.

  “I breathed a sigh of relief. The man from the Ministry could not conceal his disappointment. After he had left the Colonel explained the situation.