Into the Shadows (23 page)

An hour later, I was in the smelly alley
surrounded by dogs. They were scrambling around trying to get at
the food that Ragna was tossing out onto the dirty cement. While
she kept scooping out handfuls from a big Purina bag in her cart,
she told me I was going to keep an eye on Edward again that night.
Whoopee. A minute later, she whispered into the ear of one of her
dogs, a greyhound mix with a talon necklace around its neck. When
she was done, she told me that the mutt would be coming with me. I
didn't need the company -nor did I want it - but was grumpily told
that it wasn't a polite offer.

I needed to gather a few supplies for another
boring recon duty. For the first five minutes of the drive back to
my place, that damn dog was fidgety as hell and quickly got on my
nerves. Then, all of the sudden, it mellowed out and just sat in
the passenger seat looking around. Weird dog, but then again, I
could have been stuck with the little terrier with the teeth from
hell, so I wasn't going to bitch about it.

Once at my house, the dog followed me in. It
roamed around my place while I gathered up what I considered
essential for a stakeout: the scope from my rifle, a full flask,
and cookies to share with the mutt so it wouldn't eat my seat
cushions. I waited while it took a crap in my backyard, and then we
were on our way. I'd never had a dog, so I didn't know if I should
pet it, talk to it, or just do my own thing. The latter worked; I
ignored it, it ignored me, and we had a mellow drive out to
Edward's house.

During the time we watched from half a block
away, I noticed a couple things. First, the dog was female. Second,
she sat in the front passenger seat and was very attentive to any
movement in the suburban neighborhood. Third, she would gobble any
oatmeal cookies I offered, and then would quickly resume scanning
the street and houses. At one point, probably out of boredom, I
pointed out Edward's house to her. From then on, the dog's eyes
rarely strayed from it. Wow, smart dog, but a little too
intense.

About an hour and a half after I parked, one
of Edward's garage doors opened. While the SUV backed out, I could
see with my scope that Edward sat in the passenger seat, and his
minion - Chuck, I think the name was - behind the wheel. I gave
them a good head-start and then followed. Fifteen minutes later,
they pulled into the employee lot of a hospital. I kept my
distance, killed the lights, and watched through the scope. Edward
was dressed in slacks and a dress shirt, while Chuck wore the
outfit of a maintenance man. Okay, they both worked the late shift
there. How convenient.

I drove back to Ragna's seedy area to drop
the dog off and give another report. I parked near the alley where
she sometimes hung out. Once out of the car, my canine companion
took off like she was in a race. The alley was empty except for
trash and stench. The Wise Owl Wok was closed. In front of the
restaurant doors, however, sat Gungnir. There was a note tied to
his talon necklace. He sat calmly while I retrieved it, and then
trotted off. The hand-written note said, '
Go home. Another
delivery will arrive at noon tomorrow. No drinking.
' Well,
shit.

MESSENGER

It was sweet and sour pork for lunch the next
day. Again, the delivery guy didn't ask for money, but I tipped him
anyway. The note from Ragna gave me a mission to perform, but
without many details of how to go about it. One of the things it
did emphasize was scrawled at the bottom of the receipt paper:
'Get this done now'
. Okay, so much for having time to sit
down and figuring out a good plan.

I had some info, but could've used a lot
more. In the military, all of force recon's operations were very
detailed, time-lined and coordinated. My team and I relied on
exacting strategies, knowing what variables to expect, and how to
react to them. That kind of planning saved lives. So, winging a
solo mission with a lot of unknowns didn't exactly thrill me.

An hour later, on a sunny but cool March day,
I stood on the small front porch of Edward's house. Dressed
casually with a windbreaker and baseball cap, I held the Chinese
delivery bag in one hand and rang the doorbell with the other. A
few seconds later, a female voice from inside mumbled for me to
hold on. I glanced around and made sure the street was still quiet.
I was edgy to get on with it.

The woman named Trish opened the door a
crack, squinting at me with bleary eyes. She didn't look half as
hot with messy hair and no make-up. "What," she moodily
demanded.

"Delivery, miss," I replied, trying to act
cheerful.

"Dammit, I didn't order anything. You've got
the wrong house, fella." She started to shut the door.

"Wait," I quickly said, "I've got the correct
address. Here," I said, attempting to show her an old grocery store
receipt I'd stapled to the bag. "See?"

Trish opened the front door halfway and
leaned around it to look. Damn, she was pretty stupid.

I suddenly kicked the front door, heard it
crack. It rammed into Trish and knocked her back into the wide
foyer. She landed on her side and slowly started to get up. I
sprung into the house, kicked her support arm from under her, and
threw my weight on her back. From that position, it only took a few
seconds of grappling to get her in a carotid choke. It was a quiet
way to put her out, and I didn't have to hit her.

I hurried back to the front door, shut it,
and then grabbed my paper bag that I dropped to subdue Trish. I
pulled a couple items out of it that I'd wrapped in dishrags. A few
seconds later, I heard the squeak of floorboards somewhere down the
hall to my right. A door opened, and Chuck shuffled out half
asleep. He lazily held a gun in one hand like it was heavy. His
other hand was clumsily wiping the sleep from his eyes. He yawned
wide while trying to say, "What the hell was that, Trish?"

When his hand dropped away from his face, he
was facing a silencer barrel a foot from his face. "Hey there,
Chuckles," I said quietly. "Set the gun down slowly."

Chuck did as I said. "Easy, man," he said as
he straightened. "Just tell me what you want."

"Nobody'll get hurt as long as you're a good
boy," I replied, holding the gun steady on him. "Take three steps
back, turn around, and lay on your stomach."

While he followed my orders, he commented,
"There's not much to steal here, man."

I put my boot on his gun and kicked it behind
me, letting it slide on the hardwood. "I'm not a thief - I'm a
messenger." While I kept my gun trained on him, I set the paper bag
down and pulled out a roll of duct tape. I didn't have any rope at
home and was short on time, so I had to improvise.

Between grunts as I hog-tied him, Chuck said
through gritted teeth, "This isn't fucking necessary, man. If
you're only a messenger, then just give me the goddamn
message!"

"It's not for you, Chuckles." I used the last
of the tape wrapping it over his mouth. I didn't give a shit if
some of his hair got yanked out when he was released - it was a
small price to pay for not getting shot.

Since Ragna's note also stated,
'no
disguises'
, I took that to mean she wanted it to be known who
was sending the message. Let's face it, a good-sized guy with scars
on his face and a big talon necklace on his chest would be easy to
remember. I first thought that wearing a ski mask and making an
anonymous visit would have been safer, but maybe Ragna's name
carried more weight than I thought.

I tied up the unconscious Trish in the same
fashion as Chuck, but with a spool of twine. I found some more duct
tape in the kitchen junk drawer to put over her mouth. Being
cautious, I listened for ten long seconds for any other sounds . .
. Nope, nothing. I hurriedly searched the bedrooms for anything of
interest, and then checked the garage. I didn't expect to find
much, and I was right. I figured that anything important was down
in the basement. I mean besides Edward.

COFFIN

The stairs down were carpeted, making for a
quiet descent. Half of the basement was finished, including a
study, rec room, and a half bath. The rest of the space was hidden
behind a set of wooden double doors. I went into the study and
found a number of full bookcases. Ragna's note told me to gather
any "curious writings", so I made a small pile of anything that
looked old, creepy, or written in a foreign language. I also found
a few handwritten journals of Edward's warped beliefs.

I tested the double doors at the far end of
the rec room, not lucky enough for them to be unlocked. My third
shoulder slam took care of that, but ruined any element of
surprise. The light from behind me showed a wall five feet in, with
a short passage to the left. I backed up a step, waiting for
something, anything to come charging out at me. There was no
movement, no noise, no pissed off hemo.

With my gun out in front of me, I stepped
into the dark room and searched in vain for a light switch. Then I
slowly moved along the left wall until I bumped into an end table.
A lamp wobbled; I found the shade and stilled it. Before I turned
it on, I had to remind myself to breathe.

I was in the corner of what looked like a
small studio apartment, with a few differences. First of all, right
in the middle of the open space was a coffin. A fucking coffin in a
suburban basement - especially creepy since I knew someone was in
it. I waited until the hairs on my neck went back down, and then
looked around. Framed posters hung on the beige walls - Bauhaus,
The Cure, crap like that. I saw only one small basement window; the
glass was painted black and mostly covered by a thick curtain.
There was a chair and desk in one corner, a sink and shower stall
in the other, and a dresser and clothes rack between them. No
kitchenette, no toilet - no hemo needed 'em.

I walked over to the coffin, concerned that
the upper lid of it would swing open at any second. Set on a sturdy
base, the top of it was about four feet high. Its dark wood was
smooth and shiny, similar to the one I bought for my mom. I
gathered my nerve and used my free hand to lift the top door.

Edward was inside, resting on black velvet.
He looked like a corpse, pale and unmoving. His hair was pulled
back into a tail, he wore a black t-shirt, and his arms were down
along his sides. I kept my gun pointed at him while I pulled out a
small bottle of lighter fluid from my jacket pocket, and squirted
out a liberal amount on the lower half of the coffin. I was sure
the odor would've been enough to wake him up. I was wrong; he was a
deep sleeper. I squirted more fluid onto his t-shirt. His eyes
fluttered for a few seconds, but that was it. "Fuck it," I said out
loud as I took a step back and shot him in the shoulder.

That did the trick. Edward woke up bellowing
in surprise and pain. He lifted his head about half a foot before
he saw me standing near the coffin. His face began contorting with
rage, so I quickly pulled out my grill lighter and clicked the
flame on. He hesitated, which gave him time to notice the smell of
the lighter fluid. His mouth opened, displaying fangs, and his eyes
swiveled around with panic.

"Relax, Mr. Galloway," I said as calmly as I
could. "I didn't come here to attack you. The lighter fluid is just
a warning. Sorry about shooting you, but dammit, you wouldn't wake
up."

Edward glared at me and gained some
composure. "Do you think I can't get to you before you set my bed
on fire with me in it? Let's find out." His snarl began turning
into a hungry grin.

As fast as I could, I swung my arm back and
shot a couple bullets through the basement curtain and window. Two
soft beams of sunlight landed on the side of his coffin. It wasn't
much light coming in, but Edward's eyes went wide and he tried to
sink into the velvet padding. "I think I have your attention now,
so don't be a pain in my ass, Mr. Galloway. Just listen. First, I'm
not going to shoot you again, or set you on fire, or douse you in
sunlight unless you make me. I've got options - you don't."

Pressing a hand to his shoulder, Edward
looked at me defiantly over the lip of his coffin. "I'll find out
who you are, human."

I used the silencer to nudge my owl talon
necklace. "That'll tell you all you need to know. Ask around." I
took a deep breath and got on with it. "Alright, listen up, sir.
You're no longer welcome at the Ovation Community Theater. You're
no longer allowed to put up fliers for your Sentinel beliefs. Don't
go near any homeless shelters or mental hospitals. In fact, I'm to
advise you to leave town as soon as possible. You can preach your
stupid faith somewhere else. Otherwise, my boss will start to
really dislike you, and I'll find you again. I won't be so nice to
your minions the next time, and I won't hesitate to end you like I
easily could've today. For your sake, Mr. Galloway, I hope that
message was clear enough."

Edward was seething with rage. I never
thought I'd use a sentence like that, but he really was. Just so I
wouldn't have to worry about him coming after me, I shot the window
five or six more times. He pulled his coffin lid shut, and his
muffled voice began shouting curses at me.

I yanked down the window curtain and smashed
out the rest of the glass with my gun. One shard landed on Edward's
desk, next to his wallet. I pocketed that, and picked up the piece
of glass to engrave the coffin with,
'you've been
warned'
.

As I finished cutting the letters into the
polished wood, I heard Edward rant, "I call to Rutilia the Red to
bring misery to your life! I pray to the Veleti to wrap you in his
shadowy embrace!"

I couldn't help it - I started laughing.

LEGEND

I made myself a drink as soon as I got home.
I wasn't going to be there long, so I made it a double. Edward's
books and wallet - minus the cash - were stacked into a box from my
basement. Then I sat down with my Jack and Coke at my computer and
googled the addresses of reputable coin and jewelry dealers. From
an earlier search, I estimated a ballpark value of the items in the
pouch, and then halved it. Even then, I'd have a nice chunk of
change - those coins were worth more than I would've guessed.