“Oh shit,” Ray said. He collapsed onto his side, his feet yanked out from under him, and the flashlight thudded to the ground, illuminating a large section of grass. Ray spun over onto his side, his assault rifle bursting to life as he fired at something unseen in the darkness. A black arm lashed across his chest, sending his rifle crashing to the ground. He jumped for it again, but something held him down. He called out and clawed at the grass. His hands scrambled up the side of his military vest as if searching for something when the monstrous thing spun him around again and dragged him feet-first into the forest. “Son of a bitch!” he screamed.
A burst of rounds erupted from Finn and his grandfather’s rifles into the squirming shadows above Ray. The gunfire stopped a moment later.
Michael’s flashlight lit the scene as Ray rose into the air upside down in the same way as Audrey and Rebecca. The demon strangled his legs. Ray yanked a hunting knife from his vest and slashed at the nearest limb. Black blood sprayed out across the grass and the creature slammed Ray to the ground near the assault rifle. He twisted around and grabbed onto the rifle. Flashes of gunfire and the smell of gunpowder filled the air. His grandfather and Finn blasted again at the slithering arms. Ray’s rifle clicked empty. He cried out as black arms slipped around his waist and spiraled him into the air. His cries silenced as he slammed into the ground. His eyes bulged like small moons in the reflected light, and his face contorted into a silent scream. Finn and his grandfather continued firing at the arm holding Ray until the night terror yanked him back into the darkness.
Michael held the flashlight out with his left hand and aimed the rifle with his right into the dark void above where Ray had vanished. His hands trembled. Ray’s outline faded into the shadows. He hesitated to fire into the darkness. He didn’t want to accidentally hit Ray or Audrey.
Finn charged at the creature holding Rebecca. His grandfather followed behind, but stopped to check on Michael every few steps. Rounds burst into the forest and the blackness around Rebecca. The clacking intensified, and the hisses filled the air like a giant rattlesnake preparing to attack. Finn inched toward Rebecca as his grandfather kept her in the focus of his flashlight. The limb holding her burst apart in the gunfire and she dropped headfirst to the ground. Finn continued firing and moving forward until he stood next to her.
She didn’t move in the darkness. Michael longed to run in and pull her away. He stepped ahead of his grandfather.
“Wait, Michael,” his grandfather yelled.
Michael paused. Streaks of blood lined the side of her head, and her white shirt was carpeted with soil and sweat. She lay face down in the grass. Finn rolled her over, and she groaned.
“She’s alive,” Finn said. “Get her to the car.”
Finn stood over them, aiming his rifle into the forest as Michael and his grandfather moved in to get Rebecca out of there.
“Leave your rifle,” his grandfather said, placing his rifle on the grass. “We’ll get them later.”
Michael set his down and stuck the flashlight under his arm as they dragged Rebecca back toward the house.
“They took her,” Rebecca’s weak voice rose. “She’s gone.”
Michael glimpsed her face in the dim light. He didn’t recognize her.
Finn backed away with them as they continued toward the house. He looked at Rebecca. “Which way did they take your mom?”
Rebecca pointed. “That way.”
“Toward town?”
“Yes.”
Finn turned to his grandfather. “Audrey’s on her way to the tunnels. I’m going after Ray,” Finn said and took off in the direction Ray was last seen.
“Mom,” Rebecca said.
Rebecca’s head was angled to the side and flopped as they struggled to move her. Blood streaked through her hair and her shirt. It left no part of her white shirt untouched. The dirt and blood stained every inch of both. She stared up through narrow eyes. Her mouth hung open.
“Are you okay?” Michael asked her. He winced. What a dumb thing to ask. “You’ll be all right,” he said. A little better.
Instead of pulling her through the house again, they brought her around the side of the house, next to the garage and the waiting vehicles. Her shoes scraped through the gravel driveway. The headlights lit up Rebecca’s pale skin. She pulled against Michael’s arms after they came to a stop.
“Mom,” she said and sat up.
“We’ll get your mom later,” his grandfather said to her. “We’ll come back.”
“No,” she said, her face dropped and her breathing increased.
“We have to get you out of here,” his grandfather said to her.
“Mom,” she repeated.
His grandfather turned to him. “Bring her to our house for now.”
“Can you stand up?” Michael asked her.
She wobbled in his arms, but nodded, and he heaved her up into a standing position long enough for his grandfather to open the door to his car. Together they placed her into the front seat of the car.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” his grandfather said, holding out the keys. “Take the car home. You’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”
Michael took the keys, and his grandfather walked back around the garage into the darkness.
The blood on Rebecca’s clothes smeared across the car seat, and that strange, horrible odor filled the air again. He held his breath. It was like Rebecca had holed up inside the corpse of a rotting animal. Michael focused on a distant clicking sound, and his heart raced.
Rebecca slumped forward in the seat with her head angled sideways. He wiped the blood from his hands onto his shirt, which was damp with sweat, dirt, and blood. His muscles ached from dragging her, and he clung to the open car door for balance. He didn’t want to leave his grandfather back there.
The cops would be there soon. Or a white van would show up. No, officer, I heard nothing. The blood? Just ketchup, officer. Our bottle of ketchup exploded. Sorry to trouble you.
Michael searched the darkness of the house for any sign of Finn and his grandfather. Only darkness.
“My mom.” Rebecca’s eyes locked on her bloody hand, which rested face up in her lap.
Michael nudged her further into the car and closed the door. He hurried around to the driver’s side and climbed in, slamming the door behind him.
A moment later his grandfather and Finn raced around the side of the garage and into the light of the car’s headlights. His grandfather carried Michael’s and Ray’s rifle in one hand and his own rifle in the other hand. But no Ray. Finn backed toward the car, aiming his rifle toward the house as if expecting an ambush.
His grandfather came over to the driver’s side of the car and Michael opened the door. His grandfather gestured for him to stay seated. “I told you to drive her home. Go now. I’ll get in Finn’s truck.”
Michael slumped forward and eyed the dashboard lights.
“Go as slow as you need,” his grandfather said. “We’re right behind you.”
Michael shut the door and didn’t bother to buckle himself in. He started the engine. Rebecca shivered beside him.
10
Michael let out a deep breath when the car came to a stop in his grandfather’s driveway. His fingers ached when he released the steering wheel. He threw open the door and hurried around to the passenger side to help Rebecca, but she had already opened the door and stepped onto the gravel. Finn and his grandfather pulled up beside them, the truck’s headlights blinding him for a moment. Rebecca clung to Michael’s arm, and she fell into him as she limped toward the house. He walked her to the steps, where she pulled herself up the railing to the front door. Finn jumped ahead of them and held the door open. Michael led her into the kitchen and pulled out a chair for her at the kitchen table. Her shoes smeared blood and dirt across the floor. She sat down and slipped her shoes off, a ring of mud lining the top of her socks.
Michael hurried through the kitchen to the living room and peeked out the wi
ndows into the night. “Where are the police?” he said. “I can’t believe nobody heard that.”
“Oh, they heard us, all right,” Finn said. “I’m sure they’re out there right now watching us from their little white vans. The gunfire will have made them nervous.”
Michael walked back to the kitchen. Rebecca’s teeth chattered, and her body shivered.
His grandfather leaned forward in front of her with his hand on her shoulder. “Anything broken?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Where does it hurt?”
“My legs.” She lifted her pant leg and displayed the damage.
“Lots of cuts.” His grandfather checked her arms and head. “I’ll get the first aid kit. Go upstairs and get cleaned up. Don’t worry about making a mess. I’ll take care of that. Take the bed in Mary’s painting room, and I’ll set out some clothes out for you. You’ll be staying with us tonight.”
“I need to find my mom,” she said.
“In the morning. It’s too dangerous out there. We’ll find your mom and Ray, but you need to rest now.” His grandfather turned to him. “Michael, I’ll check on Mary. Help Rebecca up to her room.”
His grandfather went to his bedroom.
Finn slipped off his military vest and dialed the phone in the corner of the kitchen. His words were soft, a stark contrast to his gruff demeanor.
“Bessie got Ray… It dragged him into the forest.” Finn rubbed his forehead. “At least Doris is with God now or this news would destroy her. Stay there. I’ll let you know.” He hung up the phone and plodded into the living room.
“I’ll take the couch,” Finn said.
His grandfather returned a moment later from his bedroom. He grabbed a blanket from a wooden chest in the living room and wrapped it around Rebecca.
“Can you make it up the stairs?” he asked her.
She nodded. “I can’t leave my mom out there.”
“Nobody’s going out there again tonight. First thing in the morning.”
“You promise?”
“Promise.”
She groaned and stood, though hunched forward. She tightened the blanket against her chest and shuffled toward the stairs. Michael helped her up to her room.
His grandmother’s painting room hadn’t been used in some time. The oversized desk where she’d painted years earlier was devoid of any paint or canvases. A small bed hid in the corner behind some large boxes of unused painting supplies.
“The bathroom’s down the hall,” Michael said.
“I know,” she said and smiled.
“I’ll be in the room across from you.”
She nodded and turned away without looking at him.
Michael cleaned up in the bathroom, then went to his room. His hands shook as he dressed for bed. He slipped into his pajama bottoms and sat bare-chested on the edge of the bed. His mind flashed through the night’s scenes over and over again. No sleep tonight. Through the floor vent he overheard his grandfather and Finn talking in the living room below.
“You should take Mary to the nursing home tomorrow just to be safe, you know?” Finn said. “Pastor Snow White isn’t gonna be too happy with us.”
“I’ll take her in the morning. Never thought it would come to this. Always thought things would settle down, and we’d get back to normal.”
“Things are definitely not normal,” Finn said. “Times are a-changing, my friend.”
“What will we tell Ray’s wife?”
Silence for a few moments, but then Michael heard Finn say, “He knew the risks. We know what we have to do now.”
“And Audrey?”
“When has anybody ever come back?” Finn asked pointedly.
“They’re out of control. Remember when the biggest thing that ever happened in this town was tracking down a stolen street sign? Those were the days, Finn. I need to do something. Why did I allow Michael to come here with all this bullshit going on? I’ve got to get him out of here.”
There was silence for a few seconds. “We’ve got to go back in there,” Finn said.
“How are we going to do that?”
“They’ve already started on the fence around the church,” Finn said. “It won’t be long before it’s too late to get in.”
“They’ve got guards outside now too, I’ve noticed.
“We should do it soon,” Finn said. “We can get around the guards, but we’ll need help after that.”
“I’m too old for this,” his grandfather grumbled.
“What about your grandson? He can shoot okay.”
“No. He’s not getting involved. He came here for my help.”
“Things will get worse unless we do something.”
“What a difference a year makes,” his grandfather said. “Just last spring we were celebrating our 45th wedding anniversary. I hate to think about going back in there.”
“I don’t think we got any choice, Art,” Finn said.
The conversation ended, and a few minutes later someone came up the stairs and knocked on Rebecca’s door. His grandfather said he’d found an old pajama set for her. He apologized for not having something nicer. His grandfather left and stomped down the stairs again.
Rebecca’s door creaked open and then shut as she went to the bathroom. She stayed there a long time. After the shower started, she sobbed for a long time. He threw on a shirt and waited until she’d gone into her room before sneaking out of his and tapping on her door.
“It’s me,” he whispered.
“Wait a minute,” she replied. “Okay, you can come in.”
He opened the door, and Rebecca stood dressed in a faded shirt and pants that had long gone out of style. The large shirt hung loosely over her chest. She turned to face him as he entered.
He eyed her clothes and shoes. “Going somewhere?”
“We have to get back out there and find my mom.” She rubbed her forehead. “I need your help to find her.” Her eyes filled with tears.
“You can’t leave, not with those things out there.”
“Michael, you haven’t heard all the stories. You don’t know about all the stuff that goes on in this town after the sun goes down. People disappear. Two weeks ago a kid in my school just vanished. He walked home after playing baseball in the park, and that evening he was gone. Just Poof. If I don’t find her now, we never will.”
Michael studied her face.
“Maybe you don’t believe me, but just look at what happened tonight. I need your help. It’s dark out, and Pastor John doesn’t allow anyone walk around at night. We can do this if we stick together.”
“What are they? Like the goddamn police?”
“Yes,” Rebecca said. “They’re just like the police. You can’t just do what you want here. The devil hides in the darkness.”
“It’s too dangerous.” He rested his hand on her shoulder.
“Then I’ll go alone.” She pulled back and turned away.
He blew out a sharp breath. “Fine. I’ll go.”
He crept back into his room and changed into some clean clothes. He grabbed his backpack. He planned to grab flashlights and bottles of water from the kitchen. He scanned the room. Since Pastor John had taken his grandfather’s pistol, he’d need to replace it. Could there be more weapons in the boxes stacked against the walls? The descriptions on the boxes left no clues. Photos, books, painting supplies. Maybe more surprises awaited him, but there was no time to look now.
He crept out of his room. Floorboards creaked below the carpeted stairs, and the moments crawled by in slow motion. He met Rebecca at the top of the stairs, and they made their way down, edging around the hallway and into the kitchen. She grabbed two flashlights from the countertop and handed one to him. It was the same flashlight he’d used earlier that evening to rescue her. He slipped it into his backpack along with two bottles of water from the pantry.
The keys to his grandfather’s car hung on a hook next to the front door. Rebecca’s house was only a short walk away,
but it was better to have the protection of the car. He slipped the keys off the hook, clutching them so they wouldn’t jingle. He unlatched the lock and turned the door handle. It squeaked as he pulled open the front door, holding it ajar for Rebecca. The warm summer breeze puffed over his face. They stepped outside, shutting the door with care behind them. His heartbeat raced as a wall of darkness surrounded them. A partial moon cast enough light to see the outlines of the surrounding landscape. It was too late to go back now. The moonlight reflected off the hood of his grandfather’s Cadillac. The damage he’d done earlier that morning wasn’t visible in the darkness. They walked down the porch steps and hurried toward the car. Rebecca hobbled and grabbed his arm.
Something fluttered behind them in the trees, and he stopped, glancing back at the house. The fluttering was only birds, nothing to worry about. Rebecca stood fixed on the passenger’s side, and moonlight illuminated tree branches behind her swaying in the light wind.
He located the correct key and unlocked the doors. Footsteps charged up behind him. Someone clamped onto his shoulder and shook him hard.
11
The keys clattered as they tumbled onto the gravel driveway. Michael spun around, and Finn glared at him.
“Where are you two going?” Finn asked him. He held a rifle in one arm, pointed upward, and blocked the car door with his hip.
“Grandpa asked me to run into town, and Rebecca didn’t want to be alone.”
Finn grinned. “Art didn’t ask you to go anywhere. Where are you going?”
Michael sighed. “We’re leaving.”
Shadows Rising Page 8
