"I admire your self-confidence, partner, but these guys are more than you, me and half this city can take on if they took you up on a challenge," Deed responded.
"What if we expose them for who they are?"
"Then you'll be exposing yourself. Is that a risk you are willing to take?"
Trent was silent.
"I think not." Deed continued. "There are countless others who are in positions of authority like you won't believe. They're able to bilocate — be in two places at the same time. They wreak a lot of havoc that way and also cushion themselves with a nice alibi, so there'll be no investigations and even if there were, no one'll convict them in a million years. I'm sorry to say, partner, but seems like we're pretty much back to square one." He heard Trent sigh. "Your buddy here said there's something bigger coming." Deed glanced up at Peter who stood stoically before him.
"Bigger? As in what way?" Trent grilled.
Deed saw Peter slowly shaking his head. He knew that the answer would not be forthcoming in that moment.
"Don't know. He didn't say. You know how this goes." The line was quiet. "By the way, I'm sorry about your sister. Read about the arrest in the paper the other day."
"Thanks."
"So, I'll see you around?" Deed asked.
"Yeah. Later," Trent said.
After resting the handset down on the small table in the living room, Deed looked up and noticed all the ghastly visitors of all shapes and sizes who had joined Peter in the room. About thirty of them had filled the already crammed space.
"Ok, guests. Time to go. I need some privacy, okay?"
Within seconds, in clumps, they gradually disappeared. Deed picked up the newspaper from the table nearby and sifted through the pages.
* * *
Little Foster was giggling as Tina pressed her mouth gently against his tummy. Amina smiled on passing as she picked up a small basket of laundry from a corner of the bedroom.
"He's getting out of the way fairly quickly," she pointed out to Tina.
Tina smiled back, then did the stomach smooch again, twisting her head from side to side. "Yes, he is. Yes, he is."
"Would you like for me to get anything for you after I put these in the washer?" Amina was referring to the basket full of baby clothes.
"It would be nice if you take Foster for a bit while I catch a little doze. I didn't fall off to sleep until after midnight."
"Sure. No problem. Let me set these to wash and I'll be right back up for him." She gave the baby a huge smile.
"Thanks, Amina." Tina laid back onto the pillow and threw an arm up against the side of her face.
Within ten minutes, Amina was back. "I'll take the little, darling heart now." She reached for the baby, grabbing his toy at the same time. "You get your rest now. We'll be downstairs."
"Thanks, Amina." Tina shifted to her side as Amina left with the baby, shutting the door quietly behind her. Tina felt a sweet sleep coming on and silently welcomed it.
A half-hour later, Tina shifted once more, lying on her back again. Infiltrating her sleep was the twisting scrape of the door knob. She opened her eyes slowly and looked toward the door straight ahead. She could see the knob twisting, but only partly as if it had been locked. Subconsciously, she knew that Amina would not have locked the door, unless she had done so inadvertently on their way out and was now trying to get back into the room for some reason.
Tina tried to speak, but to her dismay, no voice escaped. She realized she was not even able to move her mouth to form the words. Then she felt an indentation beside her on the mattress. Oddly again, she could not turn to look. Her head was focused straight ahead and she could not shift it to the left nor right. Tina was beginning to feel debilitated and vulnerable as an unusually large, hairy hand glided slowly along her abdomen. Her heart was pumping at a frenzy and she felt fear to an extreme she was never before acquainted with. Having lost control of her own bodily functions compounded with the alien force that had entered her bedroom, she desperately wanted to scream. She tried to scream. Still, there was no voice. As the hand slid around her abdomen and crept toward her chest, Tina noticed that the doorknob was no longer moving. She dreaded the possibility that what had attempted to enter the room moments before had successfully done so in the form of the intruder whose body she could not completely see.
After what seemed like hours of unwarranted violation, the single hand suddenly vanished. Still unable to move her head, upon reflex, she looked up and there pasted to the ceiling above her was a figure the likes of which she had never seen before and strongly hoped it would not be the last sight she would ever see. She wanted to scream her lungs out; she wanted to cry; she wanted to dart right out of there, but it was all wishful thinking. The man, beast or thing had the physique of a tall, strapping male wrapped from head to toe in a gray, sheet-like substance. On the surface of that sheet-like substance which appeared to be his skin were sparsely scattered long, strands of hair, similar to what Tina had seen on the hand crawling on her chest and abdomen. The strangest part, which made Tina's heart pound even more rapidly were the eyes — the numerous pairs of eyes that just about covered his entire head, even at the top and back — all blinking, but not in unison. Each pair blinked haphazardly with totally independent function. The thing twisted his head and Tina could now see the mouth. It appeared zipped shut and only two thin slices of what remained rested on top. There was no nose, no ears.
Staring up at the horrific sight, Tina could feel two tears escaping her eye-sockets and streaming down both sides of her face. She was stuck; trapped in a world of demons whom she realized had the power to turn her world upside down whenever they so chose. The thing was gripping the smooth surface of the ceiling with claws that dug into the stained pine. It was stationary the whole while; the only movement on it were the eyes. Now, it was crawling quickly across the ceiling, then onto the top part of the southern wall near the molding. Tina followed it with her eyes and watched as it headed speedily toward the door, positioning itself onto the wooden structure itself, still in a crawl-like pose. Then, to her utter amazement, she saw it push itself forcefully onto the door, squeezing its way through the thick fiber until it completely vanished out of sight. Tina was sure that it made it through to the next side.
All of a sudden, her head moved, then her arm, and she realized she was no longer restrained by any invisible force. She darted out of the bed, opened the door and sprinted out of the room.
"Amina! Amina!" she cried peeping into the baby's nursery and then scurrying down the hallway and down the spiral stairs.
"What is it, Miss?" Amina appeared at the foot of the staircase with a concerned look on her face.
Tina noticed the baby right away sitting on a sheet on the floor, playing.
"Did you see anyone pass here?" Tina asked, almost out of breath.
"No, Miss. No one passed here," Amina replied.
Tina brushed past her and went about peeping into the kitchen, then down the passageway and into Trent's study, and out toward the back sliding door.
"Miss Tina, what is it?" Amina asked.
Tina looked back at her and shook her head. "Nothing." She sighed. Flashbacks of before suddenly scurried through her head. The times when they thought she had lost her mind and was seeing things that weren't there. She was walking back towards the living room, combing her hair with her fingers. "It's nothing, really. I'm sorry. I just thought…"
"Are you taking your medicine still, Miss?" Amina asked.
Tina was almost offended by the question, but realized the logic in it being posed in that instance.
"Yes. Yes, Amina." She forced a smile. "I haven't missed a dose since returning home from the hospital. I guess I just woke suddenly from a nightmare and thought it was real." It was the only logical explanation she could drum up in the moment.
Amina smiled. Relief covered her face. "Oh, that's understandable. Sometimes, dreams can seem so real. I hate when that happens to me," she said.
> Tina went over to Little Foster and knelt beside him, smiling with slight tears welling in her eyes.
"I can tell you really love him," Amina stated. "You are a very good mother."
Tina was deeply touched. She looked up at Amina. "Thank you. That's so kind of you to say." The tears escaped and she quickly dried them with her hand.
"He's a special boy, blessed with wonderful parents," Amina added. "And I am very grateful to be here and watch all of you grow as a family."
Tina stood up and faced Amina. She did something next that surprised the older woman. She reached out and held Amina's hands. "You are a part of this family, Amina, and we are also very grateful that you're here and for all that you do for us." Tina gently squeezed Amina's hands.
"Thank you, Miss Tina." Her face radiated with joy.
"Well, it's so nice out. I think I'll take Little Foster for a short stroll," Tina said. In truth, she could not wait to get out of there to clear her head. Inwardly, she was still shaken by the recent harrowing experience.
"Oh, that's a nice idea!" Amina agreed.
Tina went over and picked up the baby, then strapped him in his stroller. She extended the roof before heading outside, so that Foster would not be in the direct glare of the sunlight. Tina slowly pushed the stroller down the long, narrow driveway, intending to walk a little more than half the length, before turning around. Her eyes darted in every direction as she knew there was no telling what could still be on the property with them.
5
Where There's Smoke…
"Carly, open up!" Jean rapped on the door again for the second time. By now, her cousin Carly Baker would have at least called back or opened up. No way should she have been out that time of night as she was nothing more than a home-body for as far back as Jean could remember.
"Carly!" Jean shouted again, this time glancing around at the trailer park. She pressed an ear against the door of her cousin's trailer. It was quiet inside. In fact, looking out at the trailer park area again spaced out with about fifty mobile homes, she realized that the entire area had an unusual, eerie stillness to it. Joe Graham, who lived three doors down would have surely had his music blaring like he did all day and night until bedtime while drinking himself stoned. He was sort of the "life" of the community; never a dull moment with Joe. When it wasn't just the music, it was he and a few other guys outside playing dominoes and cussing at each other every so often for cheating. Jean knew most of the residents in the park since she visited Carly every day to make sure she was all right following her last suicide attempt.
Looking over at the quiet homes made the very hairs on Jean's arms stand up. She suddenly had a sinking feeling that something was terribly off and was determined to at least make sure that Carly was good. She walked over to one of the windows of the trailer, tip-toed and attempted to look inside. However, her view was blocked by the drawn blinds that she could never convince Carly to open — ever. Something wasn't right. Jean's gut feeling told her she had to dial 911 and insist they make a welfare check on her cousin.
Two uniformed police officers arrived at the scene less than fifteen minutes later. Like Jean, they immediately noticed how quiet and still the entire trailer park community was. They stepped up to Carly's trailer and knocked. Waited, but there was no answer.
The officers decided to enter the premises on suspicion that someone inside might be hurt. They barged through the door and proceeded inside. As instructed, Jean waited outside.
While walking through, the officers shared the same sinister feeling that something was not right although nothing had been overturned nor scattered about. Moving on toward the back end near the bedroom, they spotted a leg dangling over the side of the bed.
"Ma'am…" the senior officer called out as he cautiously entered the tiny room; his partner remained some distance behind glancing about and out of the windows for any further activity.
No response.
It became obvious to the officers from the silhouette that someone was covered up beneath the tattered, white sheet. The head was covered also, leaving only the dangling left leg exposed.
After the senior officer gripped the edge of the sheet from the area of the head and slid it back, both men stood in shock. A woman with salt and pepper, straggly hair was lying face-down on the bed. Settled beneath her was a puddle of blood; her hair drooped over on each side of her face, the ends dipped into her own blood. The older man checked for a pulse, but there was none.
"Is she in there?" they heard Jean call from the door.
"Make sure she doesn't come in here," the senior one said to his partner who proceeded outside to Jean.
"Is she in there? Is she asleep?" Jean asked.
The officer shook his head, reluctantly.
"Is Carly in there?" Jean pressed.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. I'm afraid the lady inside there is dead."
Jean nearly collapsed to the ground; the officer quickly caught her. She wailed bitterly for the cousin she tried so hard to protect… from herself. She would learn later on that ultimately, it was not Carly that succeeded in ending her own life.
Back-up was dispatched to the trailer park. An ambulance, coroners and detectives Sparkman and Quint also arrived. After being questioned, Jean was escorted away from the crime scene. One of the first responders expressed to Lieutenant Sparkman his concern that there was seemingly no activity going on in the trailer park community.
The detectives could not help but agree and started heading out to speak with residents regarding their deceased neighbor. A few other officers were also sent to assist.
Sparkman headed next door to the residence east of Carly Baker's and Quint went further down to another. The trailer where Sparkman went was at least ten feet longer and five feet wider than Carly's and was in overall better shape. He knocked on the door and waited a few seconds before knocking again. He received no answer. Sparkman glanced around at the officers and Quint who all seemed to be waiting on front porches of the various mobile homes.
"Anything?" Sparkman called out to Quint.
"Not a peep!" Quint replied.
Sparkman cried out to the other officers. Each one indicated that they had not gotten a response.
They all proceeded to have a look around, hoping to have a view inside each home. A minute later, one officer hollered for the detectives to come over. He was at a trailer a few doors down from where Quint was.
Sparkman and Quint hurried over and peered through the window the young officer directed them to. Inside, they could clearly see the bodies of a man and a woman lying on their backs, eyes widely ajar, gazing blankly above at the low ceiling.
Sparkman was rapidly becoming more worried as the second residence in the trailer park unveiled its dead. He made an urgent call to Chief Morzack who granted permission for them to enter each of the residences where there was no response. The Chief made his way down there, fearing that the officers had not yet seen the worst.
After barging through the door of a trailer next to Carly's, Sparkman cautiously proceeded inside. He did not have to do a walk-through before he discovered the battered bodies of what appeared to be a family of three — a man, a woman and a teenage boy, lying in the hallway. The boy was on his back and the adults were lying face-down. Long, deep cuts were visible through their clothing with dried blood encircling the gashes. The uniformed officer with Sparkman became nauseated and ran out to the side of the trailer where he vomited. Sparkman looked at the gruesome sight before him, wondering what could have possessed someone to commit such atrocities, especially against a child. Curious as to the findings of the others, he exited the trailer and immediately noticed the other officers descending porches all with grim looks on their faces.
"Over here!" Quint called out to Sparkman.
"More dead?" Sparkman was hesitant to ask.
Quint nodded.
"Here too!" A uniformed officer shouted from a residence some yards down.
"They're all dead in her
e!" Another vociferated.
Sparkman went to the trailer where Quint was. Inside, was a similar scene as the one he had just witnessed. Two females had been brutally assailed — one sitting upright on the couch as if deliberately posed in that fashion after having been slashed about the body. It was unnatural how she looked sitting there in front of the television as if in the middle of viewing a program.
Sparkman was sickened by the nerve of the perpetrator or perpetrators to think for even a moment that what they had done was the least bit comical. The other victim was lying on her side in the kitchen.
"What the hell went on in this park?" Quint asked as if expecting a revelatory answer from his long-time partner.
"Murder and mayhem," Sparkman replied sadly. "We obviously have a war on our hands, but the challenge remains to find out who we're actually fighting against."
"Reminds you of anything?"
"Somewhat. If the dozens of residents in this trailer park are dead, I can safely say we've never seen anything of this magnitude before and these people could not have suffered their demise at the hand of any one man."
Soon after, the entire trailer park was filled with squad cars, coroners, and more than fifty police officers. The Chief of Police and mayor were there as well trying to make sense of the mass tragedy that stood before them, simultaneously wondering what their plan of action would now be.
6
See No Evil
Trent was in the kitchen already dressed for work when the call came in from his attorney, Luke Schafer.
Still in pajamas, Tina was pouring a glass of orange juice.
"Uh, huh," she heard Trent say.
"Thanks." He put the phone down.
"What is it?" Tina looked at him with juice in hand.
"She's on her way there."
Tina was unsure of what to say, thinking that no words would suffice. She rested her glass on the counter-top, then went over and hugged him.
"I'm okay," Trent said.
Immortals- The Complete Real Illusions Series Page 35
