Powers

by Elaine Waldron

….or nine one… one… That way they can track you easier. I’ll get off now and call, too.”

  “Okay…love you.”

  “Love you, too!”

  He did as she said and punched in nine one, one, but he found he’d lost his signal again. “Crap!’ He closed his cell phone and sat down on top the rock, hoping it wouldn’t rain. He couldn’t afford to get his phone wet. Every few minutes, he would stand, open his phone and check his signal. After about ten minutes, two bars came back and he made the call. To his relief, the dispatcher said they had already heard from his girlfriend, that they were picking up his signal now and they were on their way. He breathed a hearty sigh of relief, closed his phone and sat down. “Thank you, God!” Just then, the big bird returned, surprising Jeff by alighting at his feet.

  “Well, hello there, big fella,” Jeff said. “Decided to keep me company after all.” Then he lunged back as the bird suddenly mushroomed in size, completely shadowing him. He screamed, and no human heard.

  But Dorian did.

  Three:

  Amber unpacked her canvasses and paints, along with her easel and tripod and set them up in the middle of her backyard. She painted for several hours, stopping every now and then just to enjoy the scenery and compare it to what she was trying to convey on canvass. She glanced up to one of the tall pines just the other side of her driveway. What she believed to be a really large crow had been watching her for some time. Something told her that it was the same crow that had been on her front porch when Jerri had dropped off the two packages.

  She didn’t know much about the habits of crows, but this one was making her feel self-conscious, if nothing else. She wasn’t quite as uncomfortable with its presence as she had been; deciding it wasn’t going to attack her, for it had had plenty of time to do that. Still, she thought it strange the way it had been watching her, basically, the entire time she’d been outside. Which now, looking at her watch, she realized had been several hours. What kind of crow would do that? That is, assuming it was a crow, for she wasn’t one hundred percent certain.

  The bird suddenly took flight as though something had startled it and disappeared behind the trees. She knew she hadn’t done anything, and she hadn’t heard any noises other than the ones she’d been hearing all day. “Guess he finally got bored with me,” she surmised.

  She stood back from her canvass. She’d been painting the spread of trees that began at the back of her property, roughly a thousand feet away. “Hmmm…Not too shabby for a day’s work…Even if I say so myself.”

  Something wet hit the back of her hand and she realized it was going to rain after all, as it had been looking that way most of the afternoon. She took her painting inside and sat it up against the wall in the living room and ran back outside to grab the rest of her stuff, which she carried into the new shed that graced the left back corner of her lot.

  Stolk had built the shed just before he died suddenly of a heart attack. Shelia had told her that it would be perfect to stash her painting supplies in, one of the selling points for Amber. That way, she wouldn’t smell up the cabin with turpentine and oils.

  Her paintings would be in the house. Even if the shed was brand new, she liked to have her work sitting around where she could look at it when she wasn’t painting. She often caught little things she wanted to change that way.

  Her stomach was growling with hunger pangs. So, she set about making herself another ham sandwich. Perhaps tomorrow, she would drive out to Paul’s Grocery and pick up something to actually cook, like potatoes and corn, and meat or fish of some kind. She had noticed a nice display of fresh salmon on ice when she’d been there the first time. She poured herself a glass of milk to wash her sandwich down and took a seat at her little table. Her magazine that she hadn’t bothered to put away was still on the table, but she’d already read everything she wanted to read. She just pushed it aside and ate her meal.

  Dorian reached the area he’d heard the screams. As a raven, he alighted in top of one of the higher pines and surveyed the ground. A young man’s body laid there, lifeless, blood stains on his throat and down his brown jacket. Next to his body, was a cell phone. The squawk of another bird broke the stillness and he saw the culprit swoop down and alight beside the body. It hopped around the young man’s carcass several times and then took flight again, for the otherwise stillness of the forest was now broken by the hammering rhythm of a helicopter.

  He was forced to take flight himself, to avoid being blown out of the tree. He moved far enough away that he could observe without being flung about by the powerful air current. A croaking from the tree next to him told him that the other bird wasn’t that far away. He turned his black head in his direction. Recognition passed between the two. The other bird was definitely the kind who didn’t care if there were consequences to his actions. He cocked his head, acknowledging the presence of his rival, and then flew off, cawing loudly.

  The helicopter landed. A young woman jumped out and, seeing the fate of her boyfriend, became hysterical. Another man in a Park Ranger uniform, mid thirties, joined her and tried to find a pulse, of which there was none. He looked at the young woman and shook his head. She fell crying into his arms.

  Dorian had had enough. He croaked once and flew away.

  Amber heard the helicopter and ran outside to see it pass over and disappear beyond the trees across the road. It was almost dark, but it looked like some kind of search and rescue helicopter. She hoped no one was hurt or lost. She hadn’t grabbed a sweater and it was getting really cold. She shivered, hugging herself and ran back inside and locked her door.

  Now, she was wishing she had purchased a television. Maybe she’d reconsider and take a trip into Seattle before long and buy one. Only, if she purchased one of any size, she might need help in getting it in the house. She thought of Paul. Maybe he’d be willing to drive in with her one afternoon and help her get it. She decided she’d ask him when she went in the next day.

  Dorian wasn’t a bit happy with the intruder. At least, he assumed the killer was an intruder, since there had been no recent murders, unexplainable accidents or disappearances reported for a couple of years prior to his moving into what he now felt was “his” territory. He also realized that this could be unfavorable for him, as he was a relatively newcomer, which could put him under possible suspicion as a human, something he wasn’t any too thrilled about.

  He was tired of running and changing homes. Of course, he could never remain in one place for too many years, since he never aged, but he felt that he might, if lucky, be able to stretch it to a ten year stay, long enough to enjoy the visit.

  Question was – Who was this other vampire? Dorian had determined now that it definitely was a he. He knew he hadn’t run into any of his kind – on foot. A vampire always knew when he or she was in the presence of another vampire. Always! Therefore, it was reasonable to assume that the culprit had not shown his face to the public in human form…yet.

  He alighted on his back porch and transformed into his human body and went inside. Time for a beer. He grabbed one from the fridge and went back outside and sat on the bottom step, taking in the sounds of the fast approaching night.

  Paul told Amber he’d be delighted to accompany her into Seattle. Sally ran the store on Saturdays, and Judy was around to help if she needed assistance

  Paul had a Dodge Ram and offered to use it, as Amber had let him know that she thought she wanted a 26” screen at least. Paul was also a bit surprised that Amber took all of ten minutes to decide on the one she wanted. Even the SEARS saleslady appeared shocked.

  “Never been one to waste time,” Amber stated, observing their surprised faces.

  “Great!” Paul chimed, and they followed the saleslady to the register to pay for it, and wait for one of the male employees to get one out of the stockroom.

  Soon they were on their way back. Paul glanced over at Amber, who was looking back through the little window at the long box that held h
er flat screen.

  “Gonna love it! I promise,” Paul said, turning his attention back to the road ahead.

  “I’m sure I will…Now, I have to hook it up to the satellite dish.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem…In spite of the fact that Stolk wasn’t always good at keeping the cabin up, I think all of that stuff was in tact when he died. And he hasn’t been gone but six months.”

  “I took a quick look before I called you. Everything looks good.”

  “Want me to hook it up for you?”

  She started to say that she could do that sort of thing herself, but the anxious to please expression in his eyes decided her against it. “Sure! I’d love for you too…That is…if you really want to?”

  He looked away from the road long enough to grin and state firmly, “I want to.”

  “I can make us some tuna sandwiches. You do like tuna, don’t you?”

  “Must have read my mind,” he said, eyes on the road now. “Tuna sandwiches are my favorite.”

  “Tuna it is! And I still have a bag of chips I bought the first time I came in. Haven’t opened them yet…We can have coffee, beer, or Coca Cola…Then there’s the well water, of course.”

  “Of course,” he grinned amusedly. He held up a thermos he’d been sipping on. “Had enough coffee…It’s too early for beer…for me. But a