“Are we?” asked Dwayne.
Moonshadow looked down and adjusted the blanket over her plastic legs. “Far, far from it.”
“Does this mean I got to keep following him around?” Kearny moaned.
“No, we’re finished with that.” She looked to her side. “He won’t hear from us for a while.” Dwayne tried to hide a disapproving look. He didn’t succeed, but Moonshadow didn’t act on her awareness of it. When she turned her eyes to him, he straightened his back and gave her his full attention. “How is our guest?”
“He’s…” He looked to the back of the room with his eyes wide.
“He is ecstatic,” came a rough, gravelly voice from the back of the room. Moonshadow began to turn her chair before Geea grabbed the handles and turned it for her. Beneath the shadow of a dark, hooded robe loomed a massive figure. A prominent jaw with scarred, tight flesh poked out from the darkness below a row of razor sharp teeth.
“Grendel!” Moonshadow smiled. She glanced at Dwayne just in time to see him hide a terrified look. It made her feel good to see him scared. “How do you like your new limb?”
He lifted his arm from beneath the robe. The stitched limb was darker in color than most of his skin, and lacked the deep burn scars that would never quite heal. It also sported a faded tattoo of an eagle on the back of the hand. Soon the arm would adjust to take on the deathly pallor of the rest of his flesh, but the tattoo would be there for good. He didn’t seem to mind.
“It is functional, if a bit… itchy.” He let out a wet chuckle and moved into the light. The hood fell back enough to reveal oversized wolf eyes and a flat, almost skull-like sunken face. His jaw seemed to have outgrown the rest of his body and jutted like it was out of place. Then there were the burns, deep pale holes all over his flesh like the surface of Mercury.
“Yes, sadly we don’t have access to a necromancer,” Moonshadow apologized. “The best we could rustle up for you was a warlock.” She looked over her shoulder at Dwayne. “That reminds me; see that—what is it he calls himself?”
“The Master,” answered Dwayne. She knew damn well before she asked, she just liked hearing the disgust in his voice when he had to say the ‘M’ word.
“See that the Master is paid.” She turned back to Grendel as Dwayne nodded. “Will it do?”
“I can feel the fingers growing…” He looked at it with a horrific grin, revealing rows of jagged, shark-pointed teeth. “Soon it will be just like the old one!”
“I hoped you would be pleased,” she said with a nod. His eyes widened and he gave her a curious look before diving forward. Dwayne and Kearny moved to intercept, but were too slow. Before they had a chance, he was on his knees before their chief. He did not attack, only took her hand and lowered his head to it.
“I am your servant!”
“So soon after losing your old masters?” she asked with a look of disapproval. Dwayne and Kearny backed away.
“Heh… the Aryans? Oh my, dear…” He raised his head. “My heart just wasn’t ever in it.”
“Hmmm—”
“I had never thought to take the limb of a corpse… I didn’t think dead flesh would bond to ours.”
“Oh, he wasn’t dead,” Moonshadow said with a smile. “He still isn’t… neither is she. And she won’t be for some time.” She looked up at Dwayne as Grendel chuckled. Moonshadow patted the side of his face. “Oh, I knew you’d appreciate that!”
“Will you be taking parts of the woman for yourself?”
She saw Dwayne cover his face and the other vampires back away. Grendel was insane and useful, so she was going to let that go.
“Replacing an arm is simple. This…” She patted the hollow plastic base attached to her fake legs. “That would take a bit more than a warlock with a chainsaw and some stitches to repair.”
He gave her a wounded look. It made her smile. “Who would ever hurt you so?”
She ran her fingers over the scars on his head. Loose strands of hair were beginning to grow between the bumps and tears. “That’s why I need you!”
“Anything! I will do anything.” He kissed her hand. “I will do it now, if you wish.”
Dwayne’s eyes met hers. She smiled and shook her head before looking down at Grendel. “No, darling. Not yet. Not for a while. I have something else I need from you first. Something that will take you far away for a while. But when you return…”
Grendel lowered his head to her fake lap and let out a low, dull hiss. It was an oddly sublime sound. “You have made me whole. I will do whatever you ask.”
“I know,” she said, brushing her fingers across his grotesque jaw, “I know.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
It was morning, though still dark outside, before she spoke to him. They’d slept in the faint glow of his bedside lamp. He wasn’t sure what had awoken him, but it wasn’t a nightmare. Max hadn’t dreamt. He considered any night without dreams a good one.
She came around shortly after him, though he’d taken care not to disturb her.
“Did it help?”
“What?” Her ear was right next to his mouth. If he spoke too loud it might hurt her. “What we did last night?”
“No.”
“Oh, you mean feeding Hunter and Raquel to the vampires?” He rubbed her shoulder and kissed the back of her head. She fit perfectly in the curve of his body when they were together like this. He trailed her shoulder tattoo and ran his fingers over her arm. She leaned back into him tighter. “How do you mean?”
“It’s not going to bring her back,” she whispered over her shoulder.
“That wasn’t the point,” said Max.
“And no one will ever know… except me and you and the vampires.”
“And those government guys… so?”
“So, it’s not like anyone is going to learn anything from it,” said Sadie.
“What’s there to learn?”
“Well when someone does something wrong and they get punished, other people who might do that thing—”
“I understand.” He shook his head. “No, you’re right. There isn’t any deterrence. There never is.”
“So, did it make you feel better?”
Max took his time in the answer. “Not really.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“Because it was what was supposed to happen.” He looked into her eyes. “What should happen. There is an order; things are supposed to go in—”
“According to whom? To you?”
“No, I don’t make the rules. No one does, they’re just there. And if things don’t look like they’re going to go that way on their own, sometimes they need a push in that direction.”
She looked away and pulled his arm around her. He squeezed her against his chest until she let out a little satisfied sound.
“I think they deserved it,” she said at length.
“It doesn’t bother you?” She shook her head. “Good. Because it doesn’t bother me, and I don’t want it to come between us.”
“It won’t. I know why you do things, even if you don’t.”
“Why is that?” he asked with a grin.
“Because you don’t know any other way to be.” She closed her eyes. “Even if there weren’t monsters in the world, you wouldn’t have any trouble finding something evil. You’re drawn to it like a moth to a fire—except instead of dancing in the light you try to put it out.”
Max was quiet for a second. “Doesn’t sound very smart for the moth, trying to put out a fire.”
“No, it’ll kill him.” She lifted his hand to her mouth and kissed his bruised fingers.
“I don’t know any other way to be” he said it like he was echoing her. “I hope whatever I am is good enough for you.”
“Shhh….” She squeezed his hand. “You know it is. It more than is.”
Max took a deep breath and enjoyed the way her body felt against his. It was beginning to get uncomfortable lying like this with his weight pulling his stitches. He p
ulled away and groaned as he rolled onto his back. Sadie turned about and curled against him with her hand on his chest and her breasts against his side.
He stared at the ceiling until he thought she might be asleep. He thought about waking her up, but decided to let her sleep. Just on the chance that she might be awake, he dropped his guard and let his feelings out as much as he could. It wasn’t difficult. She sighed as if in appreciation.
“I love you, too,” her whisper tickled his chest. He dipped forward and kissed the back of her head. She moaned and drifted back to sleep.
Max turned out the light.
###
More from Sean Poindexter
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THE SHEPHERD
By Travis Luedke writing as T W Luedke
Young Adult Paranormal Thriller (15+)
Graphic violence and sensuality may be unsuitable for younger teens
Copyright © 2013 by Travis Luedke
Book Cover Art by Truenotdreams
http://truenotdreams.weebly.com/
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Ephesians 4:11
“And he gave some as apostles, some as prophets, some as shepherds and teachers.”
Ezekiel 34:12
“As a shepherd seeketh out his flock in the day that he is among his sheep that are scattered, so will I seek out my sheep, and will deliver them out of all places where they have been scattered in the cloudy and dark day.”
John 10:11
“… The good shepherd giveth his life for the sheep.”
Chapter 1
Thursday, September 9th, 5:15 p.m.
Shit happens, life happens, but for some reason it happens to me a lot.
I was kinda hoping life would give me a break – maybe crap on somebody else for a while.
Yeah, right.
I mean, look at Justin Shelby. I’m sitting here in my car, in the McDonald’s drive through, and what is he doing? He’s climbing up the side of the damn playcenter. Probably faded on prescription pills he stole from his mom. This guy is begging for life to hit him upside the head. But it never does.
And then there’s his buddy, Tommy Schroeder, goading him on.
“Do it man! You’re almost there!”
One of the wrestling elite of Moses Lake High School, Tommy’s mere presence inspired Justin to new heights of idiocy. Justin scaled the side of the outdoor playcenter like Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible.
Justin skated religiously, a regular at the downtown Moses Lake skatepark across from the Aquatic Center. Like most of us skaters, he was thin, moderately athletic, and had a strong sense of balance from endless hours busting his ass on the concrete. Climbing the playcenter wasn’t any more dangerous than the skate tricks we recorded and posted to YouTube.
He quickly reached the apex, damn spider monkey. He stood exalted atop the dome of the airplane-shaped plastic toy. An elementary kid inside gawked up at him from the Plexiglas window.
“This is classic!” Tommy whipped out his cell phone and started recording.
Looked like a good idea to me, so I did the same. You never know what folly you might catch on video. I mean, this was live action stuff. I could be ten seconds away from a viral Youtube video, Gangnam Style.
Tommy encouraged Justin’s antics with loud catcalls. Justin proclaimed his status as king of the hill, arms held high.
“Yeah bitches, hell yeah!” Justin yelled and hooted at the top of his lungs, pumping his fists in the air.
I narrated to my potential audience of millions, “This is a flagrant violation of the rules.” I panned my cellphone camera over to the placard by the entry gate and zoomed in to catch a clear shot of the playcenter rules. “There it is folks, rule number three: No climbing outside the playcenter. And we can’t forget rule number four: No children over the age of fourteen allowed. For the record, Justin is sixteen.”
Returning to the action, I caught Tommy’s upturned face lit with excitement, and then slid the view up the playcenter to Justin. “There’s the big man, putting on a show for his new best friend.”
It kinda stung in a way I didn’t like to admit, that Justin was doing all this for Tommy. A couple months ago, Justin was my best friend, my idiot. Or so I had thought.
But Tommy was cool. Popular and wealthy, he also happened to be one of the biggest arrogant pricks in my class, and Justin’s ticket into the ‘cool crowd.’
“Always trying to prove something.” I shook my head.
Tommy and I don’t get along so well. It’s a Rachelle thing. One of those life things that happens to me so often.
I should just keep my mouth shut and catch some choice video, but you know what they say, the observer always affects the observed …
“Hey ass munch, get down before you break your neck!”
Justin’s head whipped around to the sound of my voice, causing his body to sway with the sudden movement. As soon as he spotted me parked in the drive-through a nasty smirk bloomed across his face. In a moment of sublime inspiration, Justin dropped his pants with a show of lily-white butt cheeks. He obviously hadn’t seen me recording with my cell phone.
Tommy noticed me too. “How about a double McAss burger Mikey?”
He loves to call me Mikey. He knows I hate it. No one but Tommy calls me Mikey.
The girl delivering my cheeseburger held her hand over her mouth to cover her braces as she giggled and snarfed at the sight of Justin’s naked rump shaking back and forth while he taunted, “It’s a full moon tonight Mikey. Hope you enjoy the view!”
Perfect. Now Justin’s calling me Mikey. God I hate that name.
“It’s Michael, asshole! And thanks for the killer video. Goin’ straight to Facebook.” I held my cell phone out the window for him.
Justin looked back over his shoulder in surprise, attempting to pull up his pants at the same time. The knee-jerk reaction caused him to lose his delicate balance atop the apex of the plastic airplane. He fell onto his right side, and slithered down the side of the playcenter. His hands shot out across the smooth surface, clawing, seeking a grip. There was nothing to grab.
I watched him slide inexorably down the outside of the playcenter, pants and underwear still down around his thighs. He tried rolling into position for a feet-first landing. The maneuver would’ve worked if not for the fence being so close to the playcenter. The bright yellow, powder-coated aluminum fence that had aided his climb to the top now blocked his landing on the way down.
Justin’s momentum came to an abrupt halt as he hit the top of the fence ass first.
I cringed and almost ruined the shot. “That’s gotta hurt.”
Justin’s blood-curdling scream of agony made my skin crawl. He sat there, squealing like a stuck pig. The top section of fence tubing had impaled him where the sun don’t shine. Pegged in the holiest of holies, he had two inches of aluminum post going in through the out door.
“Oh my god this is insane!”
I saved the ninety-three second video clip of Justin on my smart phone and posted it directly to my Facebook timeline. I had a momentary twinge of conscience. I mean, he was still crying, and Tommy was trying to climb the fence to help him. It looked really painful.
“I can always delete it later …”
I was gonna call for help, but Tommy already had his phone out as Justin yelled in his face, “Call 911!”
I only had a few minutes to get to work. As I drove off, I thought about taking that video down. I probably should have. But it only took fifteen minutes for my video clip to find its way to over 200 students at Moses Lake High School, shared over and over to dozens of Facebook profiles. My first ever viral video.
I guess life happens to Justin Shelby too.
* * * *
Chapter 2
Thursday, September 9th, 5:30 p.m.
To the dismay of adults the world over, most teenagers maintain a secret nightlife. Sometimes it’s nothing more than sexting to their girlfriends, or browsing internet porn, but sometimes it’s worse. Some of these kids are into stuff that’s downright dangerous, even deadly.
I may be only sixteen, but I’m not blind. And I’m not talking about me, Michael Evans. I don’t do much of anything. I’m not the guy to worry about. Its guys like Justin Shelby and Tommy Schroeder who you gotta watch out for.
You’d think they had it all together. Their parents have money, good careers, nice houses, everything in order. So why are these kids so screwed up? Why do they do stupid crap?
Climbing on top of the playcenter high on Xanax?
These guys need an intervention.
I prefer to keep to myself, stay out of trouble. And my Dad stays the hell away from me, just how I like it. So, I got it easy in some ways. Well, except for the fact that my Dad hasn’t had a job in like … forever.
But I do.
Yep, I work in the evenings for Mr. Kittelson, a farmer a few miles outside of town, conveniently located up the highway from the white-trash trailer park I call home. Good ‘ole Garden Grove. There is no garden, and if there ever was, it died a long time ago, alongside the hopes and dreams of all the residents in the park.
The Shadow Box: Paranormal Suspense and Dark Fantasy Thriller Novels Page 59
