Dark Justice: A Supernatural Thriller

by Donnie Light

  Tobias began to move deeper into the woods when he realized he had left the apple cores lying on the ground, a sign that the slave hunters would surely notice when the dogs led them here. He picked up the cores, wondering what he should do with them. The only thing he could think of was to eat them. He ground the gristly cores between his teeth as he looked for a place to sleep.

  Tobias found a dry creek bed and lay down between two large rocks. The base of the bed was mostly small pebbles with larger rocks scattered along its length. The large rocks were cool. Tobias moved close to feel the comfort.

  He inspected the dressing on his arm. Except for the edges, which were wet with sweat, the dressing was dry. The blood had hardened to give the dressing a stiff, cast-like feel. The arm still hurt madly, but after so long, Tobias did not think about it. Pulling the bloody rags between his teeth and left hand, he managed to tighten the dressing that had loosened during the day.

  He slept for a while in the creek bed, and then lay thinking about his next move. If he followed the stream, it would offer him the opportunity to wade. Wading through the stream would cover his scent, hopefully confusing the slave catchers’ dogs. However, wading at night with low visibility could be dangerous. This area was infested with snakes, including cottonmouths, which were poisonous. Although the stream looked small, Tobias felt it could still harbor an alligator or two, which added to his concern.

  He decided to follow the road. There was a better chance of being seen there, but it was a much safer route overall. He would make better time traveling the road and could duck into the roadside shrubs should someone come along.

  After the cool darkness had fallen, Tobias made his way to the road. The dusty trail still felt warm to Tobias’ bare feet, having absorbed the warmth of the day’s sunshine. He moved quietly Northward, never breaking his stride until he heard a dog barking.

  He panicked at first; diving into the woods, ready to run if necessary. He then realized the barking was not that of the slave-catchers’ bloodhounds, but a yapping kind of bark from a smaller dog. Tobias came out of the woods and began to run. He was afraid that someone might be aroused by the dog and come to investigate the cause of its barking. Wherever it was, Tobias hoped it stayed there.

  It took all of his energy, but he managed to run until he could no longer hear the dog. He slowed again to a walk and tried to catch his breath. The short run had caused a pain in his side, like the point of a knife working its way between his ribs. He began to get dizzy and sweat poured from his brow.

  Tobias had to stop. He walked to the side of the road feeling queasy, and vomited before he could sit down. Dryness returned to his mouth, along with the taste of sour apples. He leaned against a tree and drew deep, staggering breaths. The pouch remained nestled in the crook of his right arm and it began to feel warm. Tobias felt the warmth in his arm and his side, still painful from running. He grasped the pouch in his left hand and felt the warmth course the length of his arm. It felt like warm sunshine and not only warmed his skin, but heated his insides as well. Like a hot liquid, the power from the pouch surged through him, renewing him. He looked upon the pouch and noticed small rays of light escaping from the pouches’ loose bindings.

  The gods are watching out for me, Tobias thought, helping me along. This thought restored some of his waning strength and again let him run.

  Tobias alternated running and walking for the rest of the night. The pouch continued to radiate its healing warmth and he nestled it close, keeping it between his stump-arm and his side.

  The area he now traveled was mostly farmland. Planted fields, almost ready for harvest, lay all around him. Far to the west, Tobias spotted a column of smoke. It was probably from the chimney of a farmhouse. Birds began to flutter about in the pre-dawn light. The sun had not yet risen above the horizon and Tobias began looking for a good place to hide.

  For a long time, the only sound Tobias could hear was the whispering shuffle of his feet on the dirt road. Suddenly, a rattling, metallic sound from up ahead startled him. It sounded distant, and Tobias could see nothing past the curve in the road before him. He quietly bolted off the path, seeking refuge in a narrow band of trees and brush. He crawled into some low bushes, taking a position that allowed him to see without being seen.

  The rattling sound grew louder in the quiet morning air. He thought it was probably a wagon traveling down the road. Next, Tobias heard the sound of a horse as it noisily exhaled. The slave watched the road closely, waiting for a glimpse of the approaching wagon.

  The sounds grew ever closer, and Tobias could not believe he had not spotted the wagon yet. He heard voices, but could not make out the words. The sounds moved surprisingly close, yet he could still see nothing on the road. Tobias moved to a state of near panic. He heard people talking, but could see no one. As if they were the voices of ghosts, they came ever closer.

  “Git that wagon over here!” a disembodied voice called. Tobias swung around. About fifty yards away, in the hayfield behind him, Tobias spotted the source of the sounds. Six slaves and a white foreman were there with a wagon, preparing to harvest the hay. They had traveled in the field, parallel to the road and Tobias had not seen them coming.

  Tobias froze like a scared rabbit. He flattened himself against the ground in an effort to avoid being seen.

  The foreman sat upon a large, gray horse. A pistol was tucked into the back of his pants. He was facing away from Tobias, shouting orders to the slaves.

  Tobias was twenty feet from the edge of the field and the slaves would eventually work their way toward him. If he did not get out of there soon, he was bound to be discovered.

  Half of the slaves carried sickles, with which to cut the hay. The other slaves would then load the cut hay onto the wagon for transport to the plantation.

  Tobias planned to scurry away when the slaves were at the far end of the field. He would seek a safer hiding spot on the other side of the road, reducing his immediate danger. As opportunities allowed, he could slowly put some distance between him and the field boss.

  The pouch began to grow warmer along Tobias’ side. The heat ran through him like a tidal wave. His muscles trembled and his eyelids fluttered as he watched the slaves move away from him. The foreman walked his horse alongside the wagon. The slaves were working diligently, but making agonizingly slow progress. The morning sun had cleared the horizon and cast long shadows behind the working slaves.

  Tobias’ heart skipped a beat when he saw a large, playful dog come bounding into the field. The dog was exploring the edge of the woods, some hundred yards away. Tobias had to move quickly, before the dog realized he was there.

  He turned as quietly as possible and moved toward the road. His heart pounded so hard he could feel his pulse in his eyes. He looked up and down the road to see if anything was coming, and then turned to see if he could spot the dog.

  Seeing neither, he crouched low and crossed the road.

  Ten yards of trees and brush separated him from the next field. He slowed as he approached the tangled growth, frantically searching for a place to enter.

  He spotted a small dent in the thick brush a few yards to his right and ducked for it. Dropping to his hand and knees, he kept the pouch close as he entered the brush. He discovered it was mostly briars, a thorny cross between a bush and a vine. It clutched at him with a thousand tiny claws. Tobias pulled and tugged, trying to make his way through the tangle, hoping to quietly free himself of its grip. He dropped flat on his stomach and dug in with his elbows and feet, desperately trying to make progress. The briars hung on relentlessly, their thorns tearing his clothes and piercing his skin.

  Just ahead of him the briars ended, giving way to a scattering of hardwood saplings and high weeds. He struggled against the tangle of thorns, making little headway. He turned and tried to free himself from his captor. It seemed that as he broke the grip of one of the barb-laden vines, two more snared him in another spot.

  Tobias thought he heard something
crunching in the brush across the road. He lay still, hoping he had imagined it. A joyous howl from the dog made him realize he had been discovered. The dog had picked up Tobias’ scent from his previous hiding place. He made another instinctive howl, ready for the chase. The scent was clear and fresh. It was as visible to the dog as a lighthouse to a lost ship.

  The pouch pulsated as if it held a live animal. Tobias made a wild, tearing leap to free himself. Driving with his legs, he pumped furiously toward the edge of the briar patch. With a tremendous burst of energy he broke free. Bits of his ragged clothes stayed behind, forever entrapped by the thorny bush. The thorns cut deep grooves in Tobias’ shoulders and down his back. His forehead was tattooed with a criss-cross pattern of cuts and scratches. Blood oozed down his brow and ran in tiny streams down each side of his broad nose.

  He broke into the next field and bolted diagonally for the woods that bordered it. His heart pumped furiously and his legs felt weak with the fear of being caught.

  The dog also had a difficult time making it through the briars, but had gotten through much quicker than Tobias had. He continued to howl and bark, nose to the ground, following the strong scent.

  The foreman looked up from his work, eyes searching for the dog. He probably flushed out a rabbit, he thought, or maybe a deer. He entertained the thought of checking it out. Some venison would be nice if he could get a clear shot at it. He pulled the pistol from the back of his pants and jabbed the horse with the heels of his boots. The horse surged forward and the foreman pulled the reigns hard to the right.

  Tobias was only a few yards from the woods, running hard, when the dog got its first glimpse of him. The dog bellowed again in his excitement, streaking across the field. He now tracked the slave by sight, allowing him faster pursuit.

  Tobias entered the woods and began to look for a weapon. He frantically searched for a big stick, or a rock, anything with which to defend himself. A layer of brown pine needles covered the ground. He continued to move deeper into the woods, scanning the ground for a weapon as he went.

  The dog entered the woods a few seconds later. A big, heavy mongrel, the dog darted quickly between the pine trees. Within moments, he was on Tobias’ heels, teeth bared, massive jaws snapping.

  Tobias sensed how close the dog was but could find no weapon. Rather than be caught from behind, he turned to face the beast. The pouch was hot, vibrating wildly at his side.

  The dog was upon him.

  It leaped.

  Tobias raised his left arm in defense.

  – Chapter 5 –

  The ride back to the station from the hospital was quiet.

  Further attempts in the ER to resuscitate Professor Gaston had failed. The driver, Bob, and Audra, sensed the sadness Galen felt at the loss of his friend.

  Any run that encounters death will be a somber run indeed. The members of the emergency crew will question themselves for days afterward, wondering if there was anything that they could have done differently. Within the next couple of days, the entire staff would critique the run discussing all of the particulars. This was routine for all runs that the ambulance made, regardless of the type of call. After the critique, the crew would think about what they had discussed and decide as a group if anything should have been done differently. This exercise was intended as a learning tool. It allowed less experienced crew members to learn what the more experienced ones would have done in similar circumstances.

  Galen had stayed with the professor the entire time at the hospital. Audra had filed all of the necessary run forms and gathered supplies, bothering Galen only for his signature on the run sheet.

  Galen had held back the tears as best he could. Normally, he was not a very emotional person, but thinking of the friend he had lost made him realize how much he would miss him. The long conversations, the interesting stories, and the advice were now gone. Galen no longer had the professor to lean on. He then realized he had lost the only person he could call a true friend. He buried his face in his hands and silently wept.

  After returning to the station, Galen retreated to the radio room to do some paperwork. He needed to get his mind occupied with something other than his loss. On the way, he passed by the soda machine. He stopped and hit a button. After a mechanical groan and a couple of clicks, a can of Pepsi rolled through the little trap door at the bottom of the machine with a clang. At least something went right today, he thought as he reached for it.

  Audra’s heart ached for Galen, sensing how badly he felt. She had not known the professor herself; not well anyway. She had exchanged greetings with him on the sidewalks downtown, but no more than that. She thought she would give Galen some time alone, and then talk to him. Perhaps she could even cheer him up a little.

  Audra held much admiration for Galen, as did everyone on the department. He was so professional, so good at what he did. His dedication to the department was obvious. Speaking at the school during fire prevention week, teaching first-aid classes, and participating in training drills were often done on Galen’s personal time.

  He also treated everyone as an equal. There were only four women volunteers, but Galen had made them all feel welcome; unlike some of the other guys who felt women had no place on a fire department.

  Galen came out of the radio room and went to check out the ambulance.

  Audra was inside the rig, changing the linen on the gurney. She looked up when she saw him.

  “Hi, Galen,” she said, gathering the used linens. “How are you doing?”

  “I’ll be alright,” he said as he climbed into the rig.

  Audra dumped the linens on the floor outside of the ambulance and took a seat in the rig. She could tell Galen was still feeling the pain of losing his friend. His face carried an expression she had never seen there before.

  “You must have been close,” she said. “I’m so sorry, Galen.”

  Galen sat down next to her. “Yeah, he was a pretty special old guy,” he said. “I’m gonna miss him.”

  Galen did not seem to be in the mood to talk yet so Audra decided to leave him alone.

  “If there’s anything I can do, let me know. Okay?”

  “Yeah, thanks, Audra,” Galen said rather absently.

  Audra got up to leave, but Galen gently took her wrist in his hand.

  “Audra, did you hear what Al was talking about before he died?”

  Audra thought for a moment. “Some of it,” she said, and sat back down.

  “He said something about a box, and wanted me to send it somewhere?” Galen asked as he tried to replay the scene in his mind.

  “Yeah, in his study, on the bookshelf,” she said. “What was that all about?”

  “I’m not sure. Do you remember where he said to send it?”

  Audra put the tip of her index finger on her upper lip and stared fixedly at the floor. “Was it, Baxter College?”

  “I don’t know,” Galen said. “It was such a strange thing for Al to be talking about. It didn’t seem that important to me, but I think it was important to Al.”

  “I think it was a Mr. Paxon, at Baxter College,” Audra offered. “It did seem like a strange conversation.”

  Galen shook his head, “You’d think I could remember the last request of a dying friend.”

  Audra chanced a brief smile and said, “I think saving his life was your foremost concern.”

  Galen nodded.

  “I guess I can find out. There can’t be too many ‘Baxter’ Colleges around.

  “He probably has the name and address around his house somewhere,” Audra volunteered.

  “Yeah. I’ve got a key, so I can go check it out later.”

  “Good idea.”

  Galen fell silent again and Audra got up to leave. She was glad he was talking, but she could tell he was far from being himself.

  Again, Galen stopped her.

  “One more thing before you go,” he said, “did you get the last part of what he said?”

  Audra replayed the sce
ne in her mind.

  “He said that he loved you.”

  “No, before that, something about eating…hearts?”

  Audra remembered that part, too. She could not make out all of it, but she remembered that part.

  “It did sound like that,” she said. “Like eater hearts, I thought he might have been referring to his condition, a heart attack or something.”

  Galen nodded again. “Yeah, I bet that’s it,” he said. “Probably something about a better heart. I wish he’d had one.”

  Galen sat in the ambulance for a few more minutes. Audra left for a short time, and then returned with clean linens. He looked up to her as she climbed into the rig.

  Galen was fond of Audra. She had that “girl-next-door” look about her. She was attractive, but not in a stunning sort of way. She was a little spunky and had an almost tomboy way about her. She always wore her hair in an efficiently short pony-tail while she worked. Galen had only seen her a few times when she had worn her hair different. She worked at Rockford Community Hospital as an X-ray technician. He occasionally saw her there and would always chat with her if they had the time.

  Audra began to put the clean sheets on the gurney. She was quite aware of Galen silently staring at her. It made her feel a little uncomfortable. Having completed her task, she turned to him.

  “What are you staring at, Galen?”

  Galen did not answer.

  “Galen?”

  Galen shook himself out of his trance.

  “I’m sorry, I was just…thinking.”

  Audra blushed for what she had been thinking; almost wishing he had been staring at her. She knew by the tone of his voice and the look on his face that he had indeed been somewhere else, deep in thought.