“Get off of me!”
“Fuck you, you tease.” He grunted, his breath spraying the side of her neck as he groped her and then slid his hand lower, fumbling first at his own jeans and then going for her pants.
The sound seemed to come from everywhere at once, a loud screaming cry, a thunderous cackling laughter that froze both of them where they were.
Maggie looked around and saw only the night and the darkness, and then she saw Matt standing up, swinging his hands at the sky and screaming.
“Louis! Help me! Help, oh God, help me it hu-urts!” Whatever was happening, it wasn't a joke. Maggie could hear the pain and fear in every word the creep spoke and she wasn't alone. Half a second after the screams started, Louis pushed off of her and stood up. The sick bastard had already gotten his jeans open and had meant to take what he wanted by force.
He zipped his pants, narrowly missing cutting into his own penis with the teeth of his zipper, and then ran back the way he’d come. “Matt! I’m coming!” She couldn’t see his face. That was just as well, she never wanted to see him again. He hadn’t actually done it, but he’d been willing to rape her and she hated him for making her powerless.
Back toward the alley and the campus, she saw Matt fall down, screeching and begging as something tore at his flesh. She saw the wounds appear, saw the gashes open on his skin as something in the darkness tore at him again and again. His face appeared briefly in the darkness, his eyes wild and tear-stained. Then the seething black mass covered him again, shifting, sliding around. When next his features appeared for an instant, his left eye was nothing but a black pit crying crimson tears down his cheek.
Louis had almost made it all the way back to where Matt lay on the ground before he was swallowed by the obsidian cloud. His screams were loud and thunderous, agonized bellows as he vanished into a flurry of black, swirling insanity.
Maggie sat up, barely breathing, and looked on as the fluttering darkness kept tearing at the two of them. Her eyes adjusted and revealed what she hadn’t seen clearly before: crows. Maggie’s heart stuttered in her chest as she let herself absorb the information her eyes sent to her brain. There had to be close to a thousand crows hovering over and covering the two men, ripping at flesh with sharpened beaks and plucking away soft bloody gobbets to eat. They tore and clawed and chewed and the two would-be assailants died while Maggie watched.
She started to be afraid and then forced it down, pushed the emotion away. It wasn't appropriate, not now. Emotions were for later, when she was safe.
She didn’t stay to watch. She left, her eyes constantly scanning the skies and making sure that none of the birds came for her.
None did. They focused solely on Matt and Louis. By the time Maggie reached her home a few blocks away, the bones of the men had been picked clean. Then, working with an unsettling precision, the birds gathered the grisly remains of their feast and lifted them into the air. It took a lot of crows to carry a human femur, but they managed it, settling a few times to recover their strength before they continued on.
By three in the morning, the remains had been taken away. The black birds dropped the debris into the ocean, scattering bones along Black Stone Bay and watching them sink into the waters.
By four in the morning, a stray dog had managed to devour what little was left of blood and evidence that there had ever been a crime.
By five, Maggie had convinced herself that she’d been slipped something in her drink. That Lance Brewster was starting into the wonderful world of drugs and that she now had one more reason not to see him again.
By six, just as the sun was getting ready to rise, Maggie drifted into sleep, completely unaware of the man who looked into her third-story window and watched her as she relaxed into a peaceful dream.
He made sure her dreams were peaceful.
He smiled and watched her as she curled into a loose fetal position, looking far younger than her years.
Jason Soulis nodded to himself and spoke only to the wind. “Yes, Albert. I think she’ll do perfectly.”
Shades Of Gray
“I’m not imagining shit, Christy. Something is following me.” He didn’t mean to hear the conversation, but it happened, a snippet of words that had nothing to do with him, but Neil heard them and, once heard, they couldn’t be easily erased from his mind. They stood out too much.
Not someone is following me, but something. It was enough to pique his interest. Neil looked over at the source of the comment as casually as he could, covering his actions by dabbing at the corners of his mouth with a napkin.
The words came from an androgynous youth. Neil was guessing male as the voice was moderately deep, but it was hard to say with any certainty. The hair was too long, with deliberately messy bangs that had been colored blue along the edges and a dark red closer to the scalp. There was a moderate amount of make-up, and the face was as sexless as the body hidden under baggy jeans and layers of shirts. Probably male. Maybe. Either way the face was attractive in an uncertain way. If there was a boy under all of that, he bordered on pretty. If there was a girl, she could have been a looker with a little work.
The kid turned sideways for a moment, reaching down to pick up a coin on the ground. The angle was right to show that there were breasts somewhere under the layers. A girl. Not unattractive, but trying hard to look the part.
The one standing next to her was much more obviously female. The hair was an atrocious shade of red that had come from a bottle or from a bad marker, it was hard to say for certain, but the curves on the body stood out a great deal more, helped along by the dark jeans and T-shirt that could well have been painted on.
She rolled her eyes as she responded. “Look, if there’s someone following you, call the cops. If not, let it go. It’s not even funny anymore.”
“It’s not supposed to be funny.” The girl’s voice was sharp and frustrated.
Curiosity had to wait. Just when the conversation was getting interesting, the woman he was actually supposed to be watching came out of the restaurant, a college-aged boy in tow.
Meredith Beaumont was a good-looking woman, as attractive as money could make her. Her hair was perfectly coifed, her clothes were the sort of casual that designers charge an arm and a leg for, and the breasts under her clingy blouse probably cost more than he’d made in the last seven months.
The money came from her husband, who was currently paying Neil top dollar to make sure his money wasn’t wandering too far from home. The kid on her arm was almost half her age, and looked like the sort women like Meredith gladly gave money to in exchange for affection and the sort of attention husbands forgot to provide when they were writing checks.
He watched them go past and took a few candid shots with his camera. Taking pictures was made easier by the fact that the camera was in the pen he was carrying. Ah, the miracles of modern science. The shots would probably not hold up in a court of law, but Neil wasn’t worried about that aspect yet. He was worried about letting Beaumont know what his wife was up to, end of discussion. If the man wanted shots for a divorce proceeding, they would come later.
He sat where he was until the couple got into the Beamer Meredith had driven over in, and then he stood up and left the table. He’d paid for dinner as soon as he sat down, knowing full well that there was little chance he could finish the meal and pay before having to leave abruptly. That had been two hours ago. The waitress was probably thrilled to see him leaving. He made sure to leave a suitable tip to cover for the inconvenience. She was cute enough to justify the extra expense.
The silver BMW was just pulling out of the parking lot, heading toward the left and the college campus, when the hairs on Neil’s body stood on end. Not a few of them, all of them. Every single hair on his body seemed to tingle and he looked at his arm, saw the fine strands lift from his skin and stand at attention.
Half a second later, something dark and very, very fast tore past him, crouched low enough that he had trouble making out the basic
human form for a moment. It was close enough that he should have felt the breeze of its passing, but there was nothing.
The shape stopped with its back to him and looked past the thick foliage of a holly bush between the road and the area where Neil had been eating. Whoever it was had done a masterful job of completely hiding inside some sort of black gauzy material.
The camera pen was still in his hand. He didn’t even think as he aimed and snapped a shot; it was purely instinctive.
Whatever he was looking at noticed, though, and stopped long enough to stare at him for a moment.
It looked human enough. Thin and angular, but human. He couldn’t make out a face through the black fabric covering the features, but he felt the eyes that stared at him and the gaze made him want to shiver.
He looked away, reminding himself that there was a couple he was supposed to be following. The car and its occupants had made it to the next intersection and turned again before he spotted it.
“Damn it.” He’d let himself get distracted and lost his tail. Not that he was worried. He had what he needed. Not enough to prove anything conclusively, but enough to keep him employed for a few more weeks while he looked deeper into the life of the Beaumont woman.
Ten minutes later he was in his Tempo and on the way back to his office. Work did not go home with him under any circumstances. He had an office for a reason and he would, by God, use it. Especially since Laurie was getting serious about moving in and the documents he had at the office were often of a sensitive nature. The last thing he needed was to have his girlfriend stumbling across photos he’d taken of other women having sexual congress with men who were not their husbands. Especially since a few of the ladies in question were damned good-looking.
He copied the images from his digital camera to the computer and made the usual number of backups for a paranoid. Piece of cake. Only when he was done did he really take the time to look at the images in depth. The first four were exactly what he’d expected, shots of the Beaumont woman with her boy toy. The last one was unsettlingly out of place.
He stared at the image for a few moments before realization sank in. The picture he’d snapped by accident; the dark shape that had bolted past him and stared hard enough to freeze his blood. He remembered the jerk of his finger and taking the shot, but it hadn’t really registered at the time, not consciously.
Neil studied the picture intently, hoping to understand what he’d seen, what had come over him when it looked his way, but all there was to see was a black shape as featureless as before.
He almost deleted the image, but at the last moment he decided to keep it. If nothing else it would make for interesting conversation with his brother-in-law, Ray. Ray always loved looking for the out of the ordinary, and as a photographer, he’d get a kick out of trying to decipher the image.
Done for the night, Neil printed his copies of the pictures, complete with the special one for Ray, and closed up shop. He was supposed to meet up with Carrie and Ray for dinner if he could still manage, and it looked like he had just enough time.
Ray shook his head and shrugged as he studied the photo and chewed savagely at his steak sandwich. The thick mustache over his lip wiggled and danced until he finally swallowed the oversized chunk of his latest culinary victim. When Ray spoke, his voice belied the angry expression on his face. Ray wasn’t angry; he just always looked like he was. “Looks like a skinny girl in black cloth.”
“A girl, huh?” Carrie’s voice teased as she looked over at Neil. No matter what happened, he would always be her little brother and therefore a target of potential ribbings.
“How do you figure that’s a girl?” Neil ignored his sister for a moment and focused on Ray.
Ray’s finger hovered over the photo, not quite touching the glossy surface. That suited Neil just fine, as the grease on the man’s hands would have easily lubed an entire fleet of car engines. He’d never understand how it was that the man could eat that much cholesterol and fat and never seem to gain an ounce.
“Look down here. Tits.” Neil studied the curve and shook his head. He wasn’t disagreeing; he was just surprised. He’d stared at the picture half a dozen times and never seen any hint of breasts, but where Ray’s finger almost touched, the shape of a breast was obvious. He’d have bet the money he’d earned earlier in the night that the picture didn’t look the same as it had earlier. Foolish, of course, but Neil couldn’t imagine how he’d have missed the details when he’d studied the shot before.
“So who is this mystery person? Have you figured it out yet?” Carrie nibbled on a celery stalk as she spoke, oblivious to the smear of blue cheese dressing that threatened to fall on her chin.
“No idea. That’s where your husband comes in. I work on tailing promiscuous spouses. He gets to handle the strange pictures of shadow girls.”
“Yeah, like he needs any more mysteries in his life.” Carrie rolled her eyes. She tolerated her husband’s hobbies, but sometimes only just barely.
“There are always more questions than there are answers.” Ray was trying to sound somber, but it wasn’t working. He was a geek for the unexplained and that would likely never change.
“Yeah? Well if you do figure out any answers, I’d actually be interested in hearing them.”
“Really?” Ray sat up straighter in his seat. “Why?”
“Well, because it happened to me, not to some person whose cousin knew a person who thought they saw something weird. I don’t care about urban legends, Ray, but unusual phenomena are a different story.”
Ray looked at him for several seconds in absolute silence and then he nodded and smiled. “If I find out anything, I’ll let you know.”
That was the end of the conversation. For a while.
Beaumont acted exactly the way Neil had expected him to. He ordered a closer surveillance of his wife and damn the expenses.
Neil took him at his word. The next evening he slid a GPS unit under the wife’s car and hid two very small cameras inside the vehicle as well. Modern technology had made his life much easier, even if the good stuff cost a fortune to own. Thank God for tax write-offs.
After that it was just a matter of waiting in the right places. He chose the same restaurant at the edge of the college campus that he had used before, and ordered something called a “roast beef wedge.” Turned out the wedge was just a hot sandwich. It was good, but costly.
While he was waiting he read the paper someone had left behind. First up was the sports section. His luck was standing true and every team he would have bet on lost by leaps and bounds. There was a reason he wasn’t a gambling man.
He had moved on to the second part of his wedge when he spotted the headline about the murder. A nineteen-year-old named Sonia Fullbright had been killed in what the paper called a “grisly fashion, with details being withheld by the authorities.” They showed a picture of Fullbright.
The girl had long blond hair and a light scattering of freckles. She had perfect teeth and full lips; her expression said that she’d gotten used to having braces so the smile was wide enough now to avoid catching her flesh on the metal wires. Her eyes were calm and warm, and even in the stupid picture, he suspected she was happy. She was easily ten pounds heavier in the posed photo than she had been a few days earlier, when she mentioned to her friend that something was following her.
Neil looked at her again and concentrated, checking to make sure he had the right girl.
Then he called Danny Holdstedter.
Holdstedter had gone to the same school. The difference was that he’d decided to actually pursue a life as a police detective and Neil had become a private investigator. Otherwise they shared a lot of the same interests, including an aversion to the idea of ever getting married and a passionate desire to screw every eligible female who looked like she needed a good orgasm. Well, except for the unattractive ones. As Danny had said more than once, a man had to have certain standards that should on
ly be compromised by a copious flow of alcohol.
For a change of pace, Holdstedter actually answered his phone. “Danny? It’s Neil Hemingway.”
“Neil! What’s new and happening, my man? Finally decide to become a cop and work for less money?”
“Not a chance! I was about to ask if you’d decided to make real money and avoid getting shot at.”
“Never gonna happen. I like beating on perps too much.”
The jokes were old and dry. The two of them had used variations on the same theme of conversation for as long as they’d known each other. That was all right. There was a certain comfort in the rituals.
“Listen, you want to get together for lunch?”
“What? Turn down food?” Holdstedter was no more likely to pass up a meal than he was to avoid flirting with a woman. “Hang on.” Neil waited and heard the voice of Danny’s partner through the phone.
“Yeah, Boyd says I can come out and play, but no funny stuff.”
“Dude, I’ve already done your sister. One member of the family is enough.”
“Yeah, you wish. Where are you?” He could hear Danny’s smile on the other side of the line. That was one of the reasons he stayed in contact with the man. He loved a good sense of humor. The other reason was purely mercenary. It helped to have a cop on your side now and then.
“Nelson’s Pub on Holy Innocence Street.” Holdstedter laughed like he always did. Holy Innocence was strategically located between two college campuses. The bars and clubs did a thriving business that belied the name of the road.
Twenty minutes later, Holdstedter showed up, looking like a male model just past his prime. That didn’t stop every woman in the area from zooming in on him. The man’s face was ruggedly handsome and his clothes spoke of money. Holdstedter came from one of the oldest families in Black Stone Bay, and as far as anyone could tell worked as a cop more as a hobby than anything else. He would never want for money.
This is Halloween Page 19
