Realm of Shadows

by Eldon Farrell

  Gripping her side she staggers to the left and watches as Lynne sends her gun skittering across the floor past where Heath is standing.

  Crumpling to her knees, she notices the bloodied knife in Lynne’s hand. Blinking feverishly she can neither clear the image nor make sense of it.

  Her head is jerked away as Heath grabs her around the throat and lifting her up slams her back against the glass. A spider-web pattern cracks in the glass where the back of her head collides with the pane.

  Moving in close to her he sniffs her and says, “Oh how I wish we had more time for this. I would so enjoy you. Alas, your partner will be along soon I’m sure, so we’ll just have to make do with what we have.”

  Clearing the cobwebs from her head, Ling struggles ineffectually to break his grip. Looking to Lynne she pleads with her eyes for her to do something but Lynne does nothing.

  It is in that inaction that Ling realizes that she is doomed.

  Removing an Okinawan Sai from within his ragged clothes, Heath twirls it around his fingers saying, “I always wanted to try this.”

  With a last ghoulish leer he pulls his hand back and thrusts the Sai upward through her chest just below the sternum. The blade is driven so deep that the point can be seen jutting out of her back beneath her jacket.

  Silent no more, Lynne screams as she backs away to cower in the corner of the crossways.

  Tossing Ling aside like so much rubbish, Heath gazes upon the bloodied Sai with a perverted admiration. As he turns his attention toward Lynne an ungodly crash shakes the building—the tremor heard well above the din of the hurricane.

  With a last sinister look, Heath darts away into the hallway turning into the staircase next to the crossways and disappearing from sight.

  “LYNNE!” Caleb hollers as he rushes toward the scene followed closely by Wendy and Clay.

  Reaching the glassed in crossways he looks down at Lynne but his attention is quickly stolen by the fast spreading crimson stain around his fallen partner.

  “LING!!”

  Rushing to her side he gently turns her over cradling her in his arms. Immediately he sees the gushing wound in her chest and desperately tries to stem the tide of blood.

  His hands become slick with gore in no time leaving little doubt in his mind that a major artery has been hit.

  “Ling,” he coos to her, “Stay with me. Come on, open your eyes…stay with me.”

  Her dark eyes dart wildly in their sockets as her breathing becomes slow and shallow. Opening her mouth to speak only blood trickles out.

  “No,” he cries, “NO! Come on Ling!”

  Kneeling beside him Wendy lightly places her hand on his trembling shoulder. “She’s gone Caleb.” He lifts his gaze to her as she repeats, “She’s gone.”

  His eyes slide from Wendy over to the corner where Clay is crouched next to Lynne. He spots the bloody knife in her hand and feels his stomach lurch.

  “What happened?” Wendy asks.

  The answer is unthinkable.

  Chapter 40

  The Toymaker prowls the second floor corridor like a predator that has been denied its kill.

  His movements are jerky and agitated as he stalks east toward the gymnasium.

  More time…I needed more time. He was coming though and he cannot see me yet…not yet.

  Stopping in the hallway he reaches out to steady himself, his hand resting on a poster taped up advertising a candidate for student body president.

  Staring at it coldly for a moment he sees the fresh-faced looks of an All-American teenager gazing back at him. Ripping it down he shreds it in a fit of rage.

  She’s gone.

  He’ll be hurting now. How I wish I could’ve seen that first look on his face when he found her lying there. Or better yet, when he realizes why she’s there.

  The lights overhead come back on, flickering to an uncertain life. For a moment he just watches them before turning away.

  Ducking into the empty exercise room overlooking the gymnasium he looks out at the debris left by Fiona. A section of roof is missing allowing water to pour in. The scoreboard sits on the cracked floor amidst the wreckage of its support beams—its wires sparking every so often.

  From his perch he notices someone moving around down below and cracks a smile full of crooked teeth at his good fortune. Yes!

  Dropping the Sai silently on the carpet he unhooks a box cutter from his belt while moving stealthily to the door—a predator in search of prey once more.

  “Jesus,” George whistles under his breath as he stares at the remains of the gymnasium.

  Having returned to the generator room when the lights again failed, he managed to restart the power to most of the school and then couldn’t ignore his curiosity.

  They all heard the deafening crash over the hurricane winds outside and knew something bad had happened. Rushing from the cafeteria after Caleb and the CDC pair, George stopped briefly in the crossways shocked by the carnage there, and then carried on alone.

  Closing on the gymnasium he heard the water and wind from within its closed doors and decided to have a look inside.

  Standing amongst the remains of the scoreboard he knows exactly what caused the crash. When Fiona peeled the roof off this place like an orange skin the beams simply couldn’t support the weight any longer.

  A tracer of sparks ignites off to his left causing him to step back.

  Fearing for his safety he turns back for the door but stops when his eye catches movement on the other side of the fallen scoreboard. Through the ruins he watches a man stumbling down the staircase along the wall until he tips over and falls to the floor.

  “Christ,” he mumbles as he debates what to do. After only a moment of indecision he decides he has to help. Climbing around the sparking wreckage, his foot slips on the wet floor sending him tumbling toward a bent and protruding piece of metal.

  His hands fly up and stop him just inches from his head colliding with it. With his heart pounding in his chest he takes a few steadying breaths before turning to help the fallen man at the base of the stairs.

  Over the rush of wind and the susurration of rain he calls out to him, “Hey! Are you OK?”

  Bending over him he shakes him gently by the shoulder eliciting a strangled groan from the man. The smell hits him then, causing his scrotum to recoil. The stench is putrid—a coppery mixture of blood and decay.

  Noticing the tattered rags he’s wearing and the filthy stain of his skin, George removes his hand from his shoulder and slides back a foot.

  As he does the man rolls over grinning madly at him.

  Stumbling to his feet, George slips again on the puddles of water and is unable to get out of the Toymaker’s way as he leaps to his feet and charges him in one fluid motion.

  George takes the brunt of the tackle on his left shoulder as he falls backward, impaling himself on the twisted spear of metal. Looking down at the jagged piece of support beam dripping red with his own blood it takes him a moment to process its relevance.

  Opening and closing his mouth he tastes blood as the pain begins to radiate out from his left side just below his ribcage where he’s been run through.

  The Toymaker appears in front of him just as he cries out in agony.

  “Ahhh,” Ryan exhales, “Music to my ears.”

  Placing his left hand on George’s forehead, Ryan pushes his head back as he brings the box cutter up placing the blade inside George’s mouth.

  “You seem unhappy,” he hums, “Maybe you should smile more.”

  With one violent spasm he jerks the blade through the corner of his mouth, slicing his flesh in a jagged line all the way to his ear. Unable to get free, George gags on his blood as he attempts to twist away, causing even more agony.

  Pulling his head back to front, Ryan admires his handiwork with a macabre grin. “Well that just looks silly—too lopsided. Don’t worry though, I can fix it.”

  Over George’s weak protests, Ryan stabs the blade into the other si
de of his mouth and quickly snaps it back through the corner all the way to his other ear.

  There’s a glint to his eye as Ryan steps back to watch. George’s head lulls to one side as his jaw hangs wide open—blood flowing profusely from his wounds.

  With his hand Ryan cups the air, waving it up to his nostrils to savor the scent, as one would with a fine bottle of wine.

  On the other side of the wreckage bare wires flare sending embers up into the air to be quickly scattered by the wind.

  Leaning in close Ryan places one hand on the steel protruding from George’s side and the other hand on his opposite shoulder. In his delirium George meets his eyes before he hisses, “Scream for me,” and wrenches down on the metal.

  Fiery pain ignites his nerve endings ripping a scream from him that nearly cleaves his hanging jaw right off his face.

  Cradling her head in his lap, Caleb feels the warmth leaving her body, chilling his soul.

  Bowing his head he weeps tears into her hair.

  Standing between them and Wendy comforting Lynne in the corner, Lawrence Clayton is unsure. Unsure of how this could’ve happened. Unsure of what to do now. Unsure if he will survive this or if, in fact anyone will.

  Nodding to Wendy he prompts her to help Lynne to her feet saying, “Take her back to the café; I’ll get him.”

  As they leave Clay kneels beside Caleb. His grief is palpable and causes Clay to remain silent for a long time as he cries softly over the body of his partner and friend.

  When he feels they can safely wait no longer he broaches, “We need to go Agent Fine.”

  Lifting his head Caleb states, “I’m not leaving her here.”

  “She deserves better than that, I know.” Clay exhales slowly, “I wish we could do better for her but right now we can’t. She’s gone Agent Fine.”

  Caleb stares hard at him before saying, “She was married with a…a baby. I can’t just…I can’t leave her here like this.”

  “You can’t bring her into the café though either,” Clay replies evenly, “I think you know that. And we can’t let you stay here with her because we need your help.

  “She’s gone and I’m sorry about that, I really am. But that room is full of people who are still alive and if they’re going to stay that way they’re going to need your help. I’m going to need your help.”

  Kissing her forehead tenderly, Caleb begins to nod.

  “We need answers,” Clay asserts, “Maybe Lynne had nothing to do with this; maybe she just picked up the knife afterwards for protection.

  “The Toymaker is here though and we need to know what she knows about him if we’re going to survive.”

  Gently laying her body on the floor, Caleb stands up and retrieves her sidearm from where it came to rest. Checking the slide, he tucks it into his belt before striding towards the cafeteria. His gait is purposeful and does nothing to hide the anger that drives him on.

  Over his shoulder he promises, “We’ll get the answers.”

  “What happened?” Cole demands as Caleb and Clay enter the cafeteria. “Where’s Agent Li?”

  Ignoring him, Caleb focuses his sights on Lynne sitting at a table in the center of the room. She looks lost and frightened—like a little girl. There was a time that such a sight would’ve propelled him to her side to offer comfort.

  There was a time when he hadn’t seen her clutching a knife stained with Ling’s blood.

  Picking up on the tension Cole declares, “I was right wasn’t I?” He points a finger at Lynne saying, “About her. She comes in here holding a bloody knife and now your partner doesn’t return. I warned you. I told you we needed to question her. She killed your partner right?”

  With the speed of a spring uncoiling Caleb grabs Cole around the throat and slams him down on top of a table. The murderous intent in his green eyes frightens Cole beyond words.

  “Caleb!” Wendy hollers from Lynne’s side as Chase and Clay struggle with him to break his grip on Cole’s neck.

  “Little help mate!” Chase shouts to Jeremy who is standing stock-still close by.

  Releasing his grip Caleb shrugs the hands off him yelling, “Get off me!”

  Walking a few feet away his rage simmers while Cole splutters and struggles to regain his breath. Glaring at his back Cole manages, “Not my fault you were wrong.”

  “Cole,” Jeremy cautions with a hand on his shoulder.

  Throwing it off, Cole rises back to his feet accusing, “Have you really seen the knife Agent Fine? There’s dried blood underneath the fresh. I lost a friend here too you know.”

  Pointing across the room at Jing sitting silently by the wall he adds, “You claim they didn’t take him…”

  He waits for Caleb to turn and look at him before asking, “How do I know she didn’t? How do I know Nick’s blood isn’t also staining that blade?”

  Caleb is shaking with barely restrained fury. His hands clutched tightly into fists, hang by his side as he glares past Cole at Lynne. In her demure expression all he can see is Ling Tran expiring in his arms and the weapon that did it in her hands.

  “Talk,” he orders.

  “Caleb—”

  “Stay out of this Wendy,” he snarls, “Time for answers Lynne.” He walks slowly toward her exacting, “What were you doing with the knife? Where did you get it? Why did you use it? Why did Heath keep you alive this long? What did he do to you? Did he let you go?”

  Reaching her he slams his hands down on the table on each side of her hard enough to cause her to flinch. “What happened to you? TALK!”

  Placing her hands on his bicep, Wendy tries unsuccessfully to push him back. “This isn’t helping Caleb,” she cries.

  Glancing at her he replies, “Ling is dead. I’m not interested in helping—I want answers.”

  “I…” Lynne trails off.

  “TALK!!” Caleb bellows.

  “Stop yelling at her!” Wendy fires back.

  Shrinking away from Wendy’s touch, Lynne raises her empty gaze to Caleb saying, “I had no choice. I’m sorry.”

  “What do you mean you had no choice?” His voice is devoid of the caring it once held.

  “He let me go,” she admits, “He told me I had to choose either you or Ling. That if I failed to choose he would kill you both. I’m sorry.”

  “She had a baby—a daughter. Did you know that? And a husband who loved her. You should’ve chosen me!”

  “I couldn’t!” Lynne attempts to raise her voice but it falls far short of Caleb’s volume. “I love you.”

  “Don’t,” he raises a hand to stop her. “Don’t say that to me; not after this.”

  “Caleb!”

  Ignoring Wendy, he asks, “So if he wanted to kill us, why did you have the knife? He gave you the knife right? Why would he give you a knife? Why wouldn’t you use it on him?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Gripping her hard by the shoulders Caleb screams, “DON’T BE SORRY!! TELL ME THE TRUTH!”

  “Agent Fine,” Clay interrupts, “That’s enough.”

  Pointing at Cole, Caleb asks, “His friend—what happened to his friend? Do you know?” Breathing heavily he pauses for a moment before stating, “Why do I think you’re protecting Heath?”

  Looking straight through him Lynne reveals, “He’s my uncle.”

  The room falls deathly still—with only the sounds of the hurricane left to fill the void.

  “No,” Caleb shakes his head scoffing, “It’s not true. If he told you that he lied to you.”

  “It’s not a lie.”

  “How do you know?”

  Frowning at him she asks, “Do you think I want it to be true? I know it’s true. My mother was Olivia Heath before she married my father. He is her brother. Look in my eyes Caleb and see that I’m not lying.”

  “Jesus,” Chase whispers.

  “You had to wonder,” Lynne continues, “How he managed to escape the hospital—he told me.”

  “We know how he did it,” Caleb counters, �
�Theresa Trott helped him. They paid off the coroner before Heath killed him and then Trott years later.”

  “And where would they have gotten the money?”

  Her question staggers Caleb. Looking deep into her eyes he can tell that she knows the answer.

  “My father bribed the coroner.”

  “Lynne no,” Wendy objects, “Edward Bosworth was a great man; he wouldn’t have done that.”

  “He would’ve for my mother,” she replies, “My grandfather abused my mother when she was a child—did you know that Caleb? My dad thought having her big brother Ryan around would help her overcome her demons.” Lowering her head she declares, “He made a mistake.”

  “Then he took you,” Cole interjects, “Kept you alive all this time simply because you’re related? If that’s true, why would he let you go now?”

  A tear rolls down her cheek as she responds, “He might’ve took me because we were related but that’s not why he kept me. After being held so long…I begged him to kill me…he wouldn’t. He wanted…something from me. He wanted me…to be like him. To understand him.

  “I was there, on the beach that night, the night your friend Nick was taken. I knocked him out before he could escape.”

  “Why Lynne?”

  Without looking at Wendy, Lynne carries on, “I was afraid. He said he would have to torture me if I didn’t help him find someone else. It was wrong…I know it was wrong…but I…

  “After he had him, he changed his mind. He would change his mind so often. He said I could go—that he would let me go—if I tortured and killed your friend. If I killed Nick.

  “I refused and so was locked in with him. I don’t know how long it was—days, weeks, who knows. Even if it saved me, I knew I couldn’t torture Nick. Finally he changed his mind again.

  “He told me that you were on your way,” she implores Caleb with her eyes, “He gave me a new deal. He said all I had to do was kill you and I could be free. I refused but I knew what it meant for Nick. He would now torture and kill him.