Faithful Shadow (27 page)

“You stupid kids.” Joe shinned his light in Kelly’s eyes, then moved to Sonia. But he stopped there, turning his head to the side with a squint. “Miss?”

Sonia stood perfectly still, her eyes distant. Her mouth began to drop, hanging open as if she’d fallen asleep while standing there. Her eyes didn’t dilate, even with the light shining directly in her eyes. The flashlight’s beam cast her shadow on the wall behind her, but there was something unnatural about it. It was too dark. Her shadow turned its head toward them, snarling with its piercing green eyes. It turned on Sonia, gripping her beneath the arms as it pulled her up the wall and into the darkness of the rafters.

“Sonia!” Kelly screamed. “Let her go, you bastard!”

They shielded their heads as blood began to rain down on them, falling from the ceiling as if from the sprinkler system. Dale grabbed Kelly by the arm and pulled her hard toward the restaurant, flinging her into Andy. Richard ran over, looking back over his shoulder and expecting to see Sonia’s body fall, but it never did. Just the slow drip of blood. Joe pressed his back to the fireplace and kept his flashlight aimed at the ceiling.

“Come on, show yourself.” Joe had his rifle cocked and ready to rock. “Show your fucking face and smile.”

It leapt forth and slapped Joe across the face, dragging its claws through the flesh of his cheek. In a flash, it sat on the ground between them, crouched and ready with its fierce eyes and sharp fangs displayed in a loud snarl. It lashed out and attached itself to Andy’s face, tackling him to the ground hard enough to slide along the polished floor. It hopped off Andy, dug its thick hand into his mouth and took off down the hall, dragging Andy along behind it. Andy gurgled and thrashed, helpless to do anything.

“You son of a bitch!” Joe screamed at the top of his lungs, breaking out into a full sprint down the hall. Blood gushed from his cheek unnoticed; the pain dwarfed by his rage.

“Watch them,” Dale said to Rita as he took off after Joe.

Arnold and Fred picked two shotguns up off the floor and hurried after their lieutenant.

“I don’t think we can do this.” Dale ran up behind him.

“Come on. It’s on the second floor. This hallway doesn’t connect to the lobby so there’s a good chance it’s trapped.”

“We need more men.” Fred was nervous, eyeing the blood trail. The thing had lifted a full grown man up the wall without slowing down.

“Then go get them,” Joe snapped, ignoring them as he slowly took the stairs, darting his rifle back and forth to illuminate the dark corners.

He stopped at the top of the stairs and looked down at the soaked carpet. The blood trail had gone cold, disappearing at the top of the stairs. But there was no body. Joe shined his light along the walls, seeing the same tiny puncture holes. He saw a lump at the back of the hall, sitting in the corner. He hurried forward and lifted up Andy’s head, turning away from the torn and dangling flesh. His throat had been ripped wide open. Joe placed a hand on Andy’s shoulder and began to cry. This was his fault. Andy had come here because Joe had asked for his help and Andy never turned him down. He’d practically forced him into it. Now he lay at the end of the hall in a pool of his own blood.

“I’m sorry, but there will be time for mourning later.” Dale pulled at Joe’s shoulder. “We need to find it.”

Joe took a deep breath and stood. Dale was right, there would be a time to mourn for his friend after this thing was dead and stuffed in the ranger station. They needed to stop it now while it was still somewhere on the second floor. Joe bent down and grabbed his shotgun. He took a master key from his pocket and went to the first door. He unlocked it, stood to the side and made eye contact with Dale, nodding. He threw open the door and jumped inside, shining his light from side to side. Joe checked beneath the bed and then the closet. Fred and Arnold kept their lights shining down the hall while Dale covered Joe.

With the first room down they moved onto the next one across the hall, guns drawn and flashlights shining, but nothing; one by one, back and forth across the hall, but nothing. Joe gripped the handle of the last door and waited, his rage bordering fear. Dale, Fred, and Arnold gave a little nod of readiness. Joe threw open the door.

“No!” Joe yelled, looking across the room to the shattered glass of the window. “Goddamn it.” Joe kicked the bed repeatedly, knocking the top mattress from the box spring.

“It got out.” Fred said matter-of-factly as he entered the room. He went to the closet and opened it, shining a light inside just to make sure.

“It got away.” Joe looked at Dale, his eyes helpless. “It got out.”

“I know.” Dale took a seat beside him on the floor. “It’s not your fault.” He looked at Joe, startled. “Oh damn, we need to get that looked at.” Dale hopped up and hurried into the bathroom, grabbing Joe a towel, soaking it in the sink. He handed the damp towel to Joe.

Joe pressed the towel to the three slashes in his check. The flesh burned. Worse was the smell. That same sewage stench he’d caught a whiff of back in the creature’s cavern now lingered on his own skin; quite possibly doing some kind of internal damage, like a toxin.

Dale felt deflated, sharing Joe’s expression. They’d been bested by this creature, this shadow monster. It had killed three of his men and dashed out into the night; no trial or jury, no consequences for its actions. Worse yet, judging by the mounds of bones within its lair, it would continue to kill, pulling innocent people and animals down into its hole. Dale didn’t know what to tell the families of his fallen men. Sorry, lost your husbands and sons to some monster of the forest. Dale lowered his head into his hands, hiding from the room and the pain of his failure.

No, that couldn’t be right. It just didn’t process, but it had to be real. She had been up there no more than ten minutes ago, high up above the lobby with her friends. Stew had been beside himself with the frantic footage he was getting from the men below. He had leaned in close to Sonia and told her this was big time news shit. But then they’d heard a gurgle, a wet noise. Kelly had leaned forward to see beyond Sonia, noticing that the camera had begun to tilt a little too much. Stew’s face had turned to the side, slowly lowering to the walkway. His eyes were open and he was looking at her, but he didn’t see her. They had gone distant. Blood began to seep from the corners of his mouth. Kelly looked up toward the ceiling and saw a long, thin arm stretching down from the dark rafters. She screamed, yelling out a single word before he’d gone completely limp, dropping the camera. Even now she wondered how that thing had lifted a big man like Stew off the walkway like that. Pulling him up into the darkness while it tore into him.

Kelly shook her head, the vision bringing a flood of tears. She gripped her arms and rocked back and forth in the chair, alone in the empty, dark restaurant. That got her attention. Kelly wiped her tears away, lifting the neckline of her shirt to dry them quickly. It was far too dark and open in here, too many shadows hanging about the ceiling, filling the corners of the room. She was not going to be this thing’s next victim. The feeling of having something jammed into her, sharp teeth tearing through her flesh as easily as her own teeth could tear through the skin of a grape, was simply not for her; no, not her. Kelly stood and rushed out of the restaurant, shaking her head wildly.

“I’m not gonna stay there alone.” Kelly took a seat on the bench closest to the fire, taking comfort in its heat and light.

“Okay, that’s fine. We’ll just stay here together.” Rita smiled, taking a seat beside Kelly. “What’s your name, dear?”

Kelly didn’t answer. Stew’s mutilated corpse was still lying in the middle of the lobby, his head facing away from her, seven feet from his body. She began to cry, rocking back and forth. Richard was sitting across from her, looking calm and collected, staring down at the firelight flickering over the wooden floor. Kelly wanted him to cross the room and comfort her, to hold her. How dare he sit across the room and deal with his own pain when she was feeling so helpless? She loved him and therefore needed him. Didn’t he know that? Kelly cried harder, looking back at the severed head of her friend. She could hear Stew’s voice from so many previous conversations, the deepness of his tone. It was quite obvious he’d never say another word again; not when his head was seven feet from his body.

Rita looked from Kelly to her dead friend. “I’ll be right back.” She patted Kelly on the shoulder.

“Okay,” Kelly said numbly, her eyes fixed on the trail of blood left by Stew’s head. It wasn’t supposed to be there, staining the hardwood floor and part of the expensive rug before the fireplace.

Rita looked at the girl for a moment, looking at her cold eyes, searching for her sanity and finding very little. But could she really blame Kelly? Rita shook her head and darted off into the restaurant, ripping a tablecloth off the table nearest the door. She ran back into the lobby and gently nudged Stew’s head across the floor with her foot, tapping him gently with an expression of pure sorrow. She quickened her pace, not wanting to draw this out any longer then she had to in front of the young girl and boy. Once the head rolled to a stop beside its body, Rita draped the cloth over them.

Richard was thankful to see the white sheet cover his friend. He had seen what he assumed were Stew’s lower intestines spilling out his side like a linked sausage. That’s not something you’re supposed to see. That’s a private thing, an inside thing, and yet there it was. Richard looked up from the white sheet to Kelly, seeing the same expression across her face as the one he knew he wore. She was looking down, nodding her head continually as if Stew were speaking to her from beyond the grave.

“What’s your name?” Rita asked Kelly, kneeling between her and the body, taking hold of her hands. “You can tell me, sweetheart.” She spoke slowly, smiling to keep this a calm conversation between friends. “What’s your name?”

“Kelly.”

“That’s excellent, Kelly. My name is Rita. I’m a ranger here with the park. Now I want you and your friend to stay with me and remain…” Rita looked back over her shoulder and stood quickly, backing away from Richard. “Oh my God.”

Kelly screamed louder than she’d ever thought possible, stretching the limits of her vocal cords. Richard sat across from her, slumped forward, his head missing from his body. Blood squirted from the open neck like a red fountain. To Kelly’s horror, Richard stood from his seat across from her and turned, his hands twitching. Rita and Kelly both stood back, afraid he might come lunging toward them in a mad dash. He gave a final hard convulsion before falling to the ground. But this couldn’t be happening; not to someone she loved, someone she’d shared her bed with almost nightly for the past few months. This man could have been the future father of her children. How could he be dead, right before her without any regard as to how she might feel? This was just some kind of cruel joke, played against her by all her friends. They hadn’t gone missing—Doug, Rowena, Marco, Janice, Stew, Sonia, and now Richard. Why was it doing this to her? Was it some kind of personal vendetta, taking out her friends? Kelly covered her mouth and eyes and shivered, standing there before the fireplace with all its warmth, feeling frozen and alone. The man she loved lay twitching before her on the ground, but she couldn’t see him. She didn’t want to see him. But she removed her hand from her eyes and looked down at his body, remembering all the nights she’d ran her hands over his smooth stomach. This just couldn’t be happening.

Kelly turned to Rita, hoping maybe she could offer some kind of explanation, maybe fill her in on some sick joke she and Richard had played on her. But Rita was gone.

“Rita?” Kelly whispered, her throat sore from screaming. “Where are you? Rita?” Kelly turned in a slow circle, running her hands through her hair. She was losing her mind. Everyone around her was disappearing right before her eyes. “Where are you? Answer me!” Kelly fell to her knees and sobbed uncontrollably, wrapping her arms about her shoulders. “Don’t leave me! Why did everyone have to leave me all alone?” Kelly whimpered, her voice broken by her hitching tears.

“What the hell is going on?” Dale yelled from the second floor, rushing down the stairs towards Kelly with the beam of his flashlight bouncing back and forth.

“What happened?” Joe asked, stopping at the top stair, looking at Richard’s remains. “Dear God, this thing is still here.” Joe gripped his shotgun tight, running the beam of the flashlight over the walkways and level across from them. “Keep together.” Joe hurried down the stairs, wanting to keep the distance between him and everyone else to a bare minimum.

“This thing is toying with us.” Fred pressed his back to the fireplace, stepping up onto the stones. “It’s fucking playing with us.”

“It’s smarter than we think.” Joe knelt over Richards’s body, looking at the clean cut across his neck. “Cut him clean and easy, as if he were made of butter. But where the hell is his goddamn head?” Joe looked up to the rafters, knowing the creature could be anywhere above them, watching and waiting. He put a hand to the gashes through his cheek, cringing at the pain. “Where’s Rita?” Joe stood, looking past the fireplace into the restaurant. “Hey?” Joe crossed the room and gripped Kelly by the shoulders, pulling her up off the ground to stand before him. “Where’s Rita?” He gave her a hard shake when there was no answer. “Wake the fuck up!” Joe slapped her across the face.