Shadow and Shine (Book 2): Dark Divide

by Danial Hooper

  “How would you know?”

  “Word travels fast, Acase.”

  “I can get up and leave right now. What are you going to do? Hit me? Wanna be the officer who beats on a hooker at a trashy bar?”

  He smirked. “I wouldn’t be the first, would I?” He sipped his whisky. “Besides, maybe I already have a history of smacking around whores.”

  “What you do in your free time is none of my business, officer.”

  “I’m a detective.”

  “And I don’t care if you’re the President of the United States. Police is police. You want the respect with a fancy title, maybe you should act worthy of respect.”

  He finished his glass and raised his hand to Pam. Big Bo rushed over, instead of filling up his glass, he left the bottle.

  “Oh, I have plenty of respect, trust me. I’m probably the best friend you can have.”

  Acacia took a sip from her cosmo, feeling like she finally understood why he was here. At the end of the day, every man wants to be her john.

  “That’s a nice idea, detective, but I have plenty of other friends in high places. Some with higher ranks than detective,” she said, winking.

  Hadley reached and took the drink from her hand. The move froze Acacia and she didn’t fight back. She watched as he put the cosmo to his lips and downed the whole glass. He made a grimace from the taste.

  “Do you know there are over fifteen thousand people who go missing each year in Vegas? And more prostitutes end up reported missing than even tourists. That’s just what gets reported, how many of the whores go missing without being missed?”

  Acacia shrugged her shoulders. Trying to pretend to be bored by the detective but panicking under the surface. He was sitting across from her talking about people going missing as if it was meant to remind her of how normal it is for working girls to go missing.

  “It’s not something you think about, even in your line of work. You’re dumb enough to think you’re not like the rest of them. Other hookers go missing because they were stupid. Not because they were unlucky. Last night, was your friend stupid? Or just unlucky? What’s the difference between you and her?”

  Acacia thought back to the girl and her john from last night, how they were attacked out of nowhere. The detective said they only found her, but Acacia saw both beaten to death by a couple of crackheads. It was like watching a pack of lions tear through a couple of deer.

  “She was unlucky.”

  “Bingo.” He poured another glass of whisky. “But you know what should concern you? Even a dumb hooker like you should quiver when you hear this,” he poured whiskey into her glass as well. “Silvio Peretti has been linked to over a thousand missing whores in the last month.”

  “Then arrest him.”

  “The link is too loose for that,” Hadley said. Acacia pushed her glass towards him. She hated whiskey. “Besides, it’s only whores. It’s not like it’s the First Lady going missing. No one comes looking for your kind.”

  “If you’re going to waste any more of my time, you need to start paying.”

  He drank down her glass and his own in rapid succession.

  “This is a favor, that’s it. You saw something last night, something you weren’t supposed to see. I know who’s behind it, and he’s going to be coming for you. You might be too dumb to tell me the truth, but don’t lie to yourself. I wanted to give you the warning before it was too late.”

  “Are you done?”

  “I am,” he said, standing up from the table. “Pam has my card; if you see anything, give me a call. Don’t hesitate. Peretti won’t.”

  Acacia didn’t respond. She was done with him.

  “By the way, that’s not even a cosmo you’re drinking. It’s nothing but fruit punch and vodka. It’s terrible.”

  He threw a hundred dollar bill on the table.

  “But it matches your personality, Miss Gold. I guess that’s a plus.”

  *******

  Jake Oberhausen

  9:15 p.m. (Mountain time)

  Willard, UT

  The game was getting tense as more players were knocked out. Omar was the most recent to get knocked out when his straight lost to Horace’s flush. So far, Omar was Jake’s favorite. Jake couldn’t get over the fact that his name was Omar and he was white. He never met a white Omar before, so that made him thousands of times more interesting. Someday, Jake would write a story about a middle aged white guy who plays in an 80’s cover band and wears thick rimmed glasses. Jake would have much rather kept playing with Omar over the husky Horace.

  Four were out, three men were left standing. The losers sat outside drinking John’s rye whiskey, making fun of one another.

  “All in,” Horace said, again. Any time he had a decent hand, the guy was betting everything. Sooner or later, it was going to be a bluff. Jake finally held a good enough hand to challenge him.

  Apparently, so did Alton. “Same.” He pushed his chips in the middle of the table, ramming them into Horace’s giant pile. Jake considered letting them duke it out, but he liked his aces.

  Both guys stared at him. “Alright, let’s do it.” Jake shoved in his modest stack of chips. Horace looked down to his cards and back to his chips. He was already having second thoughts. Jake was convinced both he and Alton caught him in a bluff. Now, it was whether or not Jake’s triple aces could beat whatever Alton held.

  “Alright, kids, we got a showdown. This is it. Come on in!” Alton shouted, already feeling like he won. He picked up on Horace’s frustration as well and was definitely the best player at the table. Alton always believed he was the smartest guy in the room, no matter where he went. He was also the most arrogant. Fortunately, his hilarious personality made up for it.

  The wooden porch creaked under their steps as they rushed in. Jake was finally beginning to get to know each guy. Karl and Omar were card carrying Republicans, and were more interested in discussing the President’s speech than playing poker. Ron was stoned, not just because of the pot down in the basement, but generally speaking. He giggled and ate while making off-color jokes about whether or not Karl would give President Watt a kiss if he asked for one. Even well after the joke, Jake still laughed to himself as Ron walked back in. They were all very different from one another, but they were obviously close.

  Jake stood over the table, staring at his cards. Part of him wondered if these guys would still be friendly if he won. So far, they’ve all handled losing well, but a guy like Alton might give Jake the silent treatment for the rest of the night. Either way, Jake wanted to win. It was a long time since he got with a group of guys and hung out.

  Of course, this made him feel guilty about having so much fun without Elizabeth and then made him miss her.

  The guys came in and circled the table. Jake looked around and noticed John was still outside.

  “Coming Johnny Boy?” Horace shouted.

  All of a sudden, the room went quiet. Jake craned his neck around Omar and looked to the door. John stood under the doorway, swaying back and forth. Jake couldn’t see his face, but he wondered if John was just really drunk. There was plenty of times back in college when Jake’s balance betrayed him after too many light beers.

  “Johnny?” Horace said, confused. The tension from the card game left. It was like the air got sucked out. No one moved; they couldn’t take their eyes off John.

  Jake leaned over further and finally saw John’s face. His mouth was hanging open and his eyes were squinted. “Someone’s out there,” he whispered.

  He didn’t know who, but one of the guys asked, “Huh? Get over here, the game’s about over.”

  John looked back to the group. “I just saw someone running up my lane.”

  “Oh, come on, John Boy, it’s probably just one of your horses broke out. We’ll go out and look after I win this game,” Alton said.

  “You mean, when I win this game,” Jake added.

  The humor fell flat. No one laughed or played along. Everyone was too busy looki
ng at John. He wasn’t joking about this. Whatever, or whoever, John saw had him scared. Jake thought it was odd to see a grown man so intimidated by shadows outside his own house. This was the kind of stuff kids dealt with, or wives after watching a scary movie.

  Ron walked over. “Let me see.” Jake wasn’t sure he was the most reliable support, but he eagerly waited to see what was said. Ron patted John on the shoulder as he scanned the area. “Yeah, not seeing anything. I think Johnny needs to quit taking his own medicine, he’s obviously…Whoa! Did you see that?” He looked back to the group and gripped John’s shoulder tight. His eyes showed fear. Jake’s hands got sweaty.

  “That’s definitely a person,” John said.

  “That’s enough, children,” Alton said, turning his attention back to the game and flipping his cards over. “Your turn, new guy.”

  Jake was too focused on the door, otherwise he would have noticed Alton’s three kings and celebrated his victory.

  Instead, the game was moments away from ending in tragedy.

  *******

  Conrad Greene

  11:26 p.m. (Eastern time)

  Washington, DC

  “Congratulations” Francis said, shaking Conrad’s hand, “Constitutional General of United States Armed Forces, quite a long title.” Her smug demeanor annoyed Conrad, but he forced himself to smile back.

  President Watt and the First Lady stood with them in the empty Oval Office, nodding in approval. Dawn chimed in, “Uriah… you didn’t tell him?”

  Watt laughed. “Couldn’t give him a chance to say no.”

  Conrad was still reeling. It was President Watt’s most inspired speech, but with the caveat of naming Conrad to a made up position.The announcement came out of left field, but it was hard to say no after such a compelling speech. It was an honor, but it wasn’t expected. Conrad would accept, but he needed to know what he was accepting.

  Francis added, “I don’t think anyone could turn down that speech. Mr. President, you’ve outdone yourself. The Press might build you a monument after a speech like that.”

  “It won’t stop Ugo Ban’s declaration tomorrow.” Dawn rolled her eyes. The group fell silent. They all knew what would happen with Ugo Ban’s declaration. “It’s time to go, Uriah, tomorrow is another big day.”

  The Watts bid their farewells and walked Conrad and Francis through the halls and out to the private parking garage. Their small talk was a good reminder of Conrad’s friendship with President Watt. The new title was much to swallow, as was Red Wave and Black Tide. Even when Conrad was second guessing his President, the world continued moving.

  “May I have a moment, Conrad?”

  Conrad looked at his car, it was a long drive to Pennsylvania, but he could share a peace offering with Sarah. Regardless if he ended up in office, President Watt just put him at the front and center of the political world, Conrad needed to make friends with the woman who influenced public opinion.

  *******

  Richard “Harry” Harrison

  Late night

  Salt Lake City, UT

  Harry hadn’t moved from his corner of the bomb shelter since their arrival. Other than the time he used the bathroom, but his experience in the little nook was enough to make him hold it until they left the shelter. His corner wasn’t comfortable, but nothing was comfortable. His leg, his cheek, and his drooping thumb made everything unpleasant. Any movement hurt.

  It was hard not to be jealous of how Asher and Jenna were healing up. It didn’t seem fair for others to be so lucky. Not that he would complain out loud, but seeing them so hunky-dory wasn’t helping his new sunny disposition. He continued making jokes, trying to distract everybody from the crappy situation they were in.

  Mickey was the only one who wasn’t playing along with his jokes. The kid took Asher’s assignment of turning on the light bulb harshly. Harry never had much compassion for Mickey, but he felt bad. The kid was trying, but it didn’t work. He might have zapped a dog into outer space, but the light bulb wasn’t working.

  The kid sat, staring at the bulb, pouting. Harry felt guilty about his attitude towards him in the past, he never gave him a chance. Now was a good time to do the right thing. He didn’t know what to say, but even giving him some attention would make him feel a little better than just being a mouse.

  “Hey Mick.” Harry waved him over. He took his time standing up, but made his way over. Harry needed to be careful of what he said, and how he said it. There was no sense in rubbing wounds with salt.

  Harry wanted to assure him he was going to play nice. Apologies weren’t easy, Harry hated the way they felt coming out of his mouth, but he needed to apologize first. “I’m sorry for before.” Mickey needed to see Harry was swallowing his pride. “So, uh, with that being said, can I get a back rub?”

  Mickey let out a little laugh and sat down.

  “I don’t wanna bust your gut about this, but I want you to know, I believe in ya. I haven’t always, but I think you’re, you’re a… you’re great. Don’t let the light bulb get to you.” He patted him on the shoulder. “Believe in yourself and you can do it.”

  He didn't wait for Mickey to respond. He was on a roll and had a point to prove.

  “I know how you feel. And let me tell you, if you let sadness take over, if you get upset because Asher is trying to bring the best outta you, you might end up losing a leg. How does that sound?” Mickey was reacting to him, he seemed to be taking the talk pretty well, which was all Harry could ask for. Harry wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted to say, but the words seemed to be working, so he felt good about his advice. It looked like he was getting through to him.

  Mickey exhaled a deep breath and said, “I understand what you’re saying, I do. But it’s so frustrating to be completely powerless when I know I have power. Instead, I’m stuck wishing anyone other than Asher would’ve given me advice.”

  “Well, let me…” Harry paused. “Let me be the one to give you direction, how about that?”

  “I’ll take anything, dude. I just want to move on. So whatever you have to offer, I’ll take it. Please.”

  “Here’s what you need to know, kid… this world is going to beat you up, and uh, the Shadows don’t care if you are special or not. And then there’s people like Ben who want to kill everything. Nut-jobs like him are the worst. You know?”

  “Yeah,” Mickey’s voice was uncertain. He didn’t understand what point Harry was about to make. The kid spent a lot of time confused.

  “Do you think he started out that way? No sir. He was a pretty good guy, but sadness turned into hate, and then his wife died, which turned him into a lunatic. Who does that sound like?”

  Mickey looked at him blank.

  “You! That sounds like you, kid. You’re pouting about the bulb, ain’t that how it starts? Pouting to sadness, sadness to hate.”

  “Well… yeah…”

  “So what’s going to hold back your Pulse?”

  “I guess sadness, yeah.”

  “Exactly, I don’t think Asher’s idea was the best, but don’t let it get to you. Think positive thoughts. Be happy.”

  “Okay, yeah, you’re right.”

  “Of course I am, it took me this far to learn the hard lesson. I don’t want you to suffer like me.”

  “Thanks, Harry.”

  “Anytime, kid.”

  *******

  Jake Oberhausen

  9:29 p.m. (Mountain time)

  Willard, UT

  The sound of the porch creaking echoed into the house. Ron and John took several synchronized steps back. Their eyes were locked outside. Their mouths hung open.

  Another creak.

  And another.

  A tree branch tapped against the window beside Jake.

  Jake turned and looked outside.

  There was a man. And then he was gone.

  Maybe the scare was causing Jake to see things, but he swore it was a person. There were a few milliseconds where he thought of reasonable alternat
ives, but those passed before they settled. It wasn’t a deer or a horse. It wasn’t a bear or a mountain lion. Those animals don’t run on two legs or wear clothing. Jake saw a grown man sprint through the light on the ground.

  “Guys…” he said, thinking about how to tell them without causing them to rush into a mass paranoia. Those guys were stoned, they could easily justify being jittery. Not Jake though, and this childish game of scaring each other was already going too far. His eyes turned towards the others, but his neck betrayed him as his body didn’t want to look away. Everything seemed to pause as he struggled to look away, or look back towards the man outside. If there was a man.

  As Jake obeyed his body, he saw the man sprinting towards the window. The man’s wide eyes glimmered as he ran through the light from the house and leaped into the air like a pouncing lion. Jake backpedaled and tripped over his chair. His head smacked on the hardwood floor, causing him to bite his tongue.

  Glass shattered.

  His eyes were forced opened as the man crashed through the window and landed on top of him. There was no time to recover before the man rammed his fist into Jake’s nose. Flashes of red and gold came with the pain. The man’s weight pinned him down as he tried to squirm free.

  Others rushed over and pulled the man away from behind. Jake continued trying to guard himself as he saw Omar’s hands reach out to tug Jake by his shoulders. Omar gripped his fingers into Jake’s armpits and leaned back. Between Omar and the guys, Jake slid on the floor as the man moved off him and smashed into the table.

  Everything went so fast from here. Jake struggled to his feet. Omar pushed passed him, running to the others. The man was on top of someone else, who was on top of the broken poker table. Jake took a step forward, but stopped when he felt dizzy. Omar and Karl were able to hold each of the man’s arms and stand him up. He struggled wildly. John bent down to Horace, who’s throat was spewing blood.