by Jan Harman
His words cut like a Public Address system over the noises in my mind. “I’ve . . . we’ve . . . he’s got a knife,” I stammered disjointedly. My clenched fingers were uncurled and covered by a very hot hand. The blast of heat flashed through me, boiling away the dreamlike state. Fueled by my personal terror and launched by the hatred that had invaded my being, I shouted, “Save Shad!”
“Lock the door,” empty air ordered.
More than anything I had wanted to do as Shade said, but I couldn’t until I had evidence that something real was happening. Even though daybreak lightened the sky, much to my frustration down in the valley where the manor sat nestled in the heart of the forest, darkness grudgingly yielded its secrets. Other than branches, battering the house and raining down all over my back yard, I hadn’t spotted a single Whisperer during the five minutes I’d been peering out the storm door.
And that was more frightening than the quiet. I slammed the back door closed and turned the lock. My hand hesitated for a moment. The guys wouldn’t be able to get back in if something went wrong. Shade was counting on me. I would get them help.
“Aunt Claire!” I kept shouting all way down the stairs, through the reception room, and into the empty meeting room. The solemnness of the room stilled my voice and slowed my hurried steps. The air was much cooler than it had been that day when my aunt and Shade had brought me down here. I wondered if it hadn’t seen much use since my father’s death. A shiver went through me. I tightened the blanket about my shoulders and headed towards the faint glow of light spilling onto the dais from a doorway on the far right-hand side of the room.
I stepped into what appeared to be a small library. Hand painted sketches and old photographs of the valley were hung near the ceiling above the shelves spanning the length of the room. To my left, portraits spiraled outward from a glaringly open spot in the center of the wall. Only two of the portraits were done in color, but only one of them caused a pang in my chest. Struck by the dimples and the amused smile, I stepped closer to my dad’s portrait, seeing in his youthful features so much that reminded me of Danny. My fingertips stroked the frame while my mind supplied an image from our last family Christmas card. Dad’s hair had grayed at the temples and his public smile had lost its gloss. The urgency of my news and the reason why the empty spot hadn’t been filled popped my bubble of pointless wishes. Someone coughed. I jumped and whirled around expecting a threat of some sort.
In the far corner of the room past two sets of work desks and chairs, I found my aunt curled up in a tan recliner. Aroma therapy candles that smelled of lavender and vanilla lined the shelf above her head. I located the sound of trickling water coming from a knee-high stone fountain tucked on the floor between the recliner and the wall.
“Aunt Claire, we’ve intruders in the back yard,” I said in a loud voice that made me want to look over my shoulder for the librarian. I didn’t wait for her to respond. I gave her arm a slight squeeze and tried again, even louder this time. “Aunt Claire, the guys need backup. We’re under attack.” I felt the sudden tension in her muscles. She mouthed a word I couldn’t make out, but her eyes remained closed.
This was a waste of time. She’d obviously taken a sleeping pill. Besides, we didn’t need her to call the enforcers. I dashed back upstairs to the kitchen and to the handy list stuck to the refrigerator. With my nose practically touching the paper and using a penlight to help me see, I skimmed my aunt’s tiny print. When I got to the last entry, I couldn’t believe it. She hadn’t listed the numbers for either the enforcers or the protectors. I suppose that made sense given the percentage of humans in the dark about the Whisperer’s existence, but at this moment, with no word from the guys, I couldn’t care less who knew. The only thing stopping me from calling the regular police or every number on the list was Trent’s comment about government labs.
From my post at the storm door, I kept watch over the back yard. In the hazy morning light, the branches strewn across the snow didn’t seem like all that much to worry about. The winds had died down and it looked like it was going to be a nice day. I was beginning to think we’d overreacted when I caught sight of the faded image of a man staggering towards the aspens by the gazebo. He went down on one knee then vanished. Pine boughs whipped back and forth in the forest bordering my land. A loud crack split the air from somewhere out of sight in the direction of the garage.
My breath fogged the glass while I scanned the yard, searching for something out of place like a blurred section of the gazebo or a tree trunk distorted by a man’s body. Midway up the slope I discovered an outline of a man. Lines thickened and colors bled through, solidifying into details. I gasped when the sun’s rays highlighted the yellow-blonde hair of Shadow.
He stood bent over at the waist with his hands braced on his thighs. His back uncurled one vertebra at a time as he straightened. Colors faded to gray. He spun suddenly to his right, punching the air with his left hand, flattening a clump of bushes. A ghostly figure shot out of the forest.
Shadow raced for the house, cradling his right arm to his chest while punching the air left handed at the ghostly figure trying to cut him off. It looked like Shadow was gaining ground, but then, as he reached out for the patio gate, his back arched and he lost his footing. He went down hard onto his side with his head lolled forward, burying most of his face in the snow.
Before I could burst out the door to help him up, a man materialized at his side and crouched in the snow. Shadow’s body bucked off the ground. When I saw the hand curved over his head, my legs nearly gave way. “No! Let him go. It’s barbaric. Shadow, get up! Pulse the monster across the yard,” I cried out, barely getting a sound out. With each violent arching of Shadow’s limp body, I relived the horror of a hand holding my mangled body against the car seat and the torture that had ignited my brain. Unconscious of doing so, I rubbed a toothed side of the aspen charm across my chest until the stinging released me from my nightmare. My body shuddered with Shadow’s as he clawed at the hand, trying to pry it off. I pressed a fist against the glass, willing him to break free. His legs thrashed about in the snow, fading erratically as though he couldn’t vibe properly.
I yanked my jacket off the hook and shoved my arms through the sleeves. Let Shade yell, I refused to stand by while Shadow’s mind burned. I eased open the storm door, hoping any sounds I made would be covered by the creaking of the gate and the gust roaring through the trees. The fireplace logs—that were supposed to be stacked right outside the back door—had been scattered by the wind. The closest were resting against the base of the brick planter at the corner of the patio next to the railing. I ducked down and darted across the patio, hoping I wasn’t seen.
“You’re not so tough now, are you?” the man taunted, his laughter cutting through the air.
Shadow no longer moved. My fingers tightened around the rough bark, scraping off the splinter that had been jabbing into the side of my thumb. I waited—fighting back the urge to charge the man’s exposed back—for the next fierce gust to strike the house.
The rattling of the old, wooden shutters against the house covered the sound of my boots crunching in the snow. Through the open gate I saw Shadow’s face twisted in pain and the man’s exposed back. I raised the log above my head and hesitated for a fraction of a second too long.
“Having a conscience is a detriment in war. You’re too soft,” said the man torturing Shadow. A blurred body spun around, and the man growled. I drew a frightened breath and almost dropped the log.
“Now isn’t this convenient. You’ve saved me the trouble of breaking the door in,” my personal zombie from the corn maze announced, speaking through his grotesque mask. “What a pity. I was so looking forward to terrorizing you and your inferior aunt.” He looked me over, not even bothering to put a hand up to protect himself. In a derisive tone in continued, “All this fuss over you. What a letdown. Lower the log before I have to voice you. This time when I give you an order, there won’t be anyone around to silence my v
oice in your head. This time—”
I swung the log, clipping the side of his head with a sickening thud.
His body shuddered. “Not hard enough, Princess,” he said, slurring his words. His eyes glazed over and he toppled into the snow.
“Drama queen has got quite the arm. Who knew?” Shadow said, triggering a rasping cough that sounded like he was coughing up a lung.
“That’s it. We’re moving everyone in the community to Hawaii. You’ll love it there. No one will notice that you tend to be warm to the touch,” I said as the snow around his body turned to slush.
“Damn it, Olivia. Get back in the house.”
“Quit napping on the job,” I shot back.
“I can still move faster than you,” he retorted, waving off my offer of help. He sucked in a painful sounding breath and reached for his right shoulder.
“Let me see that,” I ordered.
“Not if you’re going to hurl at the sight of blood.”
“Please, I got mangled in a car wreck, what’ve you got, a scratch? Big baby. I hope you weren’t to overly fond of this jacket,” I replied, trying to get him moving in the direction of the door, but he was stubbornly aiming for the forest.
“Some talentless coward slashed me with a knife. Now I ask you, where is the fairness of that? Let go. Get in the house.”
He faded. Not much, but enough to make me worried. Maybe even him, because he changed his mind about the forest and took two steps towards the gate. Without warning, I was on my back, sliding down the hill through a minefield of branches that scratched my cheek and tangled in my hair, tugging out strands. When I finally stopped, I moaned and rolled onto my side with one hand clenching my middle.
Boots skidded to a stop next to me. “Are you hurt?” Shad asked worriedly.
Translucent hands pulled me to my feet. Most of Shadow’s face resembled a smudge on a lens, except for his eyes. I’d seen the same churning in his brother’s. Without him saying a word, I knew the house and medical treatment was the furthest thing from his mind.
“What hit me?” I asked.
“An errant pulse blast. If I find out otherwise, someone’s going to pay,” he said hotly. “That’s going to bruise. It’s dangerous out here. We need to move.”
Multiple explosions rocked the forest. Tops of nearby trees bent, some snapping off. “They’re coming this way. Get to the house,” he ordered. An arm slid about my waist, holding me secure to his side as wind lashed us, forcing us to angle sideways up the slope away from the gate.
A loud crack split the air, sounding as though it was right on top of us. Shadow spun us around. The top half of a stately pine tree in the corner of the yard rocked wildly back and forth before suddenly snapping off. It streaked across the yard on a roar of wind, as though thrown by a giant in a game of lawn darts.
“Hold on to me,” Shadow shouted, stretching out his arms that instantly disappeared.
The tree shuddered and spun, its branches scraping up snow and shooting it out in plumes like a snow blower clearing a path. The grinding sound bore down upon us. From what little I could see through the roiling cloud of snow and ice, it looked like we were about to get a very close shave. I hunched my shoulder and gave Shadow a hard shove, sending us tumbling. I lost my grip and we rolled apart.
The second the snow stopped trying to bury me, I was on my knees looking around. The tree had gouged a trail through the yard and had flattened most of the patio’s railing before coming to a stop propped at an angle against the side of the house. A length of gutter over my bedroom had broken off and was banging against the bricks.
“Shadow!” I shouted, searching the yard. A hacking cough came from a mound in the snow about ten feet away. I scrambled to the site and dropped onto the snow on my hands and knees, prepared to dig him out. He grunted. A leg materialized beneath me. In increments the rest of his body became visible.
“I was wrong. It’s not Shade you’re going to get killed. I had it under control. It was going to miss us.” He grumbled.
“Who could tell with all that snow flying into the air? You’re welcome. Let’s go before they find their target.” He shrugged off my assistance even though it was clear from his pinched lips that he was in pain. Be that way, I thought. Next time he could stay buried in the snow until the spring thaw. When he started coughing again, I wrapped my arm around his waist, pretending not to notice when he leaned into me as we climbed the hill.
He stuffed an empty wrapper into his pocket and asked between chews, “You wouldn’t happen to have any food in your jacket pockets? Candy? Granola bars? I’m running low.”
“You’re vibing again. What’s wrong? Why do you need an energy boost?”
“Listen to me carefully. I’ll attack them to draw them away while you get inside.”
“Attack?” Shadow turned my head. Five individuals wearing ghoul masks solidified near the top of the slope, blocking our way to the back door.
“Our quarrel isn’t with you, Shadow. Be smart here,” the ghoul in the middle warned.
“So spearing me with the tree was just your way of saying hello?” Shadow retorted. “You know my reputation. I’m game for anything. Let’s see who’ll be the last man standing.”
“You won’t try anything, not unless you want to see what a focused pulse blast can do to the human body from a point blank range?”
“Don’t you get it?” Shadow replied, tucking me behind him out of the line of fire. “The only reason we’re out here is to flush you lot out of the forest. You fell right into our trap.”
“That’s quite the line coming from a guy who can barely straighten. Somebody’s got to pay. Sorry it’s got to be you.”
“Leave him alone. He didn’t do anything,” I demanded, pushing past Shadow.
“He’s a Grisland. Duty first and all that rubbish.”
Shadow crossed his arms in front of his chest and took several steps to the side, putting more distance between us. “I’ll play, but Olivia goes inside first.”
I rounded on Shadow, my hands braced on my hips. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s just dodge ball,” the ghoul replied as they spread out to form a circle around Shadow. “If you use your hands, she gets one penalty pulse. If you leave the circle for any reason, she takes your place. Survive five minutes and we’ll let you both go.”
“But he’s wounded. You’ve got to give him something so he has a fighting chance,” I begged. My eyes were on Shadow’s fading face, silently pleading with him to make a run for it.
“Move from that spot, girl, and we’ll all have a go at him at the same time.”
Arms raised, each man took a turn at vibe punching the air. Their turns kept coming faster until I couldn’t keep track of where the punches were coming from. Shadow darted and dodged miraculously staying ahead of the blows. I was beginning to think he stood a chance until the punches started coming two and three at time. Snow melted from the heat they generated, turning the area into a slushy mess, making it difficult for Shadow to stay on his feet. Blows started connecting.
He staggered, his body no longer vibing. Blood dribbled down his chin from his split lip. He looked at his watch and said, “Time.”
Relief welled up inside of me. Suddenly, he cried out and fell onto one knee, clasping his right shoulder and coughing so hard that he looked like he was going to topple over.
“Bullies!” I screamed when the circle closed about him.
“Olivia, go in the house,” Shadow ordered, speaking slowly. “You don’t need to see this.”
“Don’t tell me you’re a quitter? I thought you were legendary? Prove it.” I challenged.
He lifted his head. To my shock, he wore a cocky smile on his face.
“Round two, human. Don’t move,” one of the ghouls threatened.
The men didn’t even give Shadow a chance to get all the way to his feet. I searched the ground for something I could use as a weapon. The only objects within reach were small t
wigs and branches that would be useless against the forces these men wielded. I swung around, scanning the windows of the house, hoping to discover my aunt in one of them. Shadow slipped. I clenched my hands to my mouth.
A hot caress of air skimmed my cheeks. “I am here.”
I expected hurricane force winds or a snowstorm of epic proportions, but the air was still. Nothing changed and I thought maybe I’d imagined it. Then I noticed one less man in the circle. Behind another the air shimmered and suddenly he disappeared.
“What’s going on?” one of the men demanded. “Answer,” he threatened Shadow by turning towards me with his hand ready to pulse.
A sudden burst of wind shoved the man backwards several feet. “That’s a down payment for taking such excellent care of my brother,” Shade’s voice rumbled across the yard. “I promise the balance of my payment will be excruciating if you don’t let them go.”
“Be a hero, Shade. The area is teaming with our supporters. Allow us to bind your gifts. If you come with us for judgment, you’ve got our word that your brother can get his wounds treated at the clinic and the heir can go back east,” one of the masked individuals announced.
“I met some of your supporters. Apparently your training regime leaves something to be desired or maybe it’s just inferior stock,” Shade answered.
When the spokesman for the group leveled his gaze upon me, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I experienced an irrational surge of hatred that momentarily blanketed my mind. I clasped my fist to my chest, trying to will it away. The man faded to a blurred outline with fisted hands extending towards me.
“No!” Shadow shouted as he pinned one man to the ground and beat back another with pulses.
Snow and slush curled off the ground, forming a shield inches from my face. Twice the wall made a loud slurping sound and shuddered, spraying chunks of slush at my hair, cheeks, and chest. A man screamed. The wall dissolved into a pool of water that drained down the hill, forming a slick streak down the center of my yard.
