Out Of The Dark

by Phaedra Weldon

  "That wasn't as cool as it looked. I can explain how to do that and how it--" he put his hand to his forehead and stumbled back, his eyes closing.

  Look out--he's gonna fall over!

  I was beside him before Rhonda could react. I managed to become solid enough to grab him sideways. He didn't completely pass out, but it was obvious his knees weren't working.

  Geez--he might be short but he weighed a ton.

  Rhonda grabbed a chair off of a table and scooted it over. I gave a silent groan as he half helped me get him into the chair. He bent over at the waist, putting his head between his knees. The hair from his ponytail splayed out all around his shoulders, giving a blue-black sheen from the light filtering in through the window.

  Rhonda went to the bar, grabbed a glass from the overhead shelf. I heard the tink of ice being dumped in and then the faucet.

  Now why didn't I think about doing that? In fact--

  I moved back to my own body and slipped in, stretching as I stood up and headed to the bar to pour myself a couple of glasses of ice water. I was dying of thirst. So, I stood at the bar and watched the two of them as I guzzled.

  Mental Note: water…it does a body good.

  "Thanks," Dags said as he took the glass and drank down half of it.

  Oooh..careful, I thought as he drank so fast. Or you're gonna get--

  Dags winced and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh…brain freeze."

  I smiled. I liked him. He was a bit weird. And he might be a little kinky. But I liked him.

  Rhonda took the glass back. "So--does that happen often too?"

  "Only when I react like that--on the spur. I'm not prepared for it." He smiled at her and tucked stray strands of hair behind his ears. He looked a little pale. And I was kinda happy that for once it wasn't me recuperating from something.

  Eh--give it time. This is me talking here.

  "What do you mean prepared for it?" Rhonda poked at him. Leave it to the goth-chick. She'd make Batman fear her.

  I finished off my second glass of water and stuck it under the tap again. This was good water. And I could probably drink all there was.

  "If I'm going to be going into a dangerous situation, I can usually psyche myself up for that kind of thing. But I didn't think," he paused. "I really didn't think this time would be dangerous."

  "So those little shadow people don't usually just bust out like that?"

  I drank half of the third glass, only half paying attention to the two of them. It was kinda boring, and I'd rather be at the hospital in Daniel's room. There was this nagging anxiety at the back of my neck--so afraid he'd wake up and I wouldn't be there. Not only did I want to see those gorgeous blues again--I wanted to know what the last thing he saw was.

  Me--or the Wraith?

  I moved the glass away from my face at that thought and frowned. Since when did I start really distinguishing me from what I did? Was that such a good idea? And where the hell was the rulebook for this?

  My stomach growled--since I really didn't eat much cold breakfast. I set the glass down and started looking around the bar, opening drawers and cabinets. Didn't bars have like peanuts or something snacky?

  "So is it something natural you learned? Part of your seeing ghosts? 'Cause honestly, I can see ghosts--well most ghosts. I don't see shades."

  "Me neither. I can sense there's something there--but I can't see them."

  "It's really annoying, isn't it?" Rhonda said.

  "Yeah--but what I just did wasn't because I have some special power, but because I got these--"

  I was crouched down behind the bar when he said that, so I popped up and looked over at the two of them. He had his hands up, palms facing Rhonda.

  Rhonda backed up with her mouth open. "You--you had summonings tattooed on your palms?"

  He beamed.

  I frowned. He had what? I moved from the bar and stood beside Rhonda. Yeah, Dags had some weird concentric circles tattooed on both palms. There were little squiggles on each one, a little different. Kinda like mirror images. But even as I stared at them the images faded to a light red, about the color of my own mark, and then faded away.

  Is that normal?

  Dags nodded to me. "Yeah, they do that after I stop using them. But they're always there. I can feel them."

  "Do you realize what you've done--how dangerous that is?" Rhonda didn't seem happy. Should I seem unhappy too? I mimicked her frown just to be sure. "You could summon accidentally."

  "Yeah, tell me about it," Dags took the water from Rhonda's hand and finished it. No brain-freeze. "But I didn't do it."

  I pursed my lips. Well no, you boob. You can't tattoo yourself. Well, you could, but I doubt the pain would make it fun.

  He looked at me and made a face. "That's not what I meant. I mean I didn't choose to have these things on my hands. I sort of got involved in a really weird--group."

  A cult?

  He gave me that look again.

  Hey--you're the one with the disappearing tattoo on your hand, not me. Cult?

  "Well I didn't think it was a cult."

  Rhonda gritted her teeth. "Stop that. Now. I hate it that I can't hear Zoë and you can."

  "I really can't hear her--"

  Rhonda held up her right hand. Careful--she'll zap you! "I know that. You've already explained it. Just get on to why you stupidly have summoning markings on your palms."

  He looked worn out. Really worn out. Maybe he'd looked like that before we started this little pointless adventure (forget the almost being nailed by little Shadow Folk Brownie People), but I hadn't noticed.

  "I was stupid--and full of learning magic. Real magic, not the white light Wicca crap--"

  "Watch it." Rhonda said.

  "Sorry. But that's how I was thinking at the time. I thought it would be great to be a magician, you know? Wield some power."

  I looked at Rhonda. She looked up at me. We both looked at Dags. "You wanted to learn Ceremonial Magic?" Rhonda asked.

  He pursed his lips. "Yeah. I mean--controlling demons, conjuring spells, defeating enemies--"

  "You've been watching too much anime."

  I smiled. My stomach growled. I backed away and meandered to the bar again in search of peanuts. Maybe some pretzels. Anything!

  "It's really not like that, Rhonda," Dags sounded sincere. "There's a lot more to it that I just don't want to go into right now. Needless to say I got into a group in North Georgia. They also spread into Tennessee and parts of South Carolina."

  I got behind the bar again. Okay, I already looked at that drawer and that cabinet. So, how about the ones closest to the brick wall? Couldn't hurt. And to be honest–I wasn't that interested in ceremonial anything.

  I don't mean to come off so flippant. I didn't want to be here, and it was a little weird watching Rhonda geek out over a boy--even after she knew I'd seen him half naked. Eh...I decided to look for food.

  "Now, these people were serious. We're not talking college hazing or pranks--but serious business people. Everyone wore robes, and everyone wore masks."

  "Masks?"

  I looked up. Masks? Like in Halloween? Nixon? Carter? I got a really weird bank-robber image of a bunch of masked men in like, bad horror B-movies.

  "No," he shook his head. "More like 'Phantom Of The Opera' masks, only just the upper half. Over the eyes and nose. All black. All the same. The only way we could tell each other apart was because we had symbols stitched on our robes."

  Sounded wacko to me. No--that drawer only had utensils. What? No food?

  "Try the far right cabinet, beside the mini-fridge," Dags spoke up.

  Okay--so he was hearing my thoughts too?

  "Only when you think loud."

  Asshat.

  "Okay--that had a bad visual," Dags said.

  I went to where he mentioned and hit the jackpot! All sorts of paper cans of peanuts. Cashews, almonds, pretzels--oh manna from Heaven. Now I just needed a Coke.

  "Aren't you diabetic?"
>
  "Would you ignore Zoë and tell me about this group?" Rhonda's tone was a bit more intense than usual. Though she could be pretty intense. I grabbed up an un-opened can of cashews, shut the door, popped the top and then opened the mini-fridge. Coke!

  "I went through the whole process of initiation. Paid my tuition, which was a good chunk of my savings. I did odd jobs for them, looking into reported hauntings, researching artifacts, looking up government spook operations--and I'm not talking about spies."

  Spook operations. Huh.

  "I think it took over a year to finally win the approval of the big kahuna--we knew him only as Fafner."

  Rhonda barked out a laugh. "Fafner? Like the dragon?"

  I popped a Coke. Fafner? Who be dat?

  Dags started to say something in my direction but Rhonda cut him off with a wave. "Ignore her. I can. Just keep going."

  I stuck my tongue out at Rhonda and then dropped some ice in a glass. Fizz, fizz…ahhhh. Nirvana!

  "I had a private meeting with him, in robes and masks, and he told me what my responsibilities would be. And then he told me that I had been chosen as a Guardian."

  "A Guardian?"

  "Guardian is the best I can translate his meaning--especially after I stupidly signed a few papers."

  In blood? Sorry…the thought just popped out.

  "Yes."

  Okay. Wasn't expecting that answer.

  "Did snack-lady over there ask you if it was in blood?"

  "Yes, and yes, it was. Look--I never gave this whole thing much thought--"

  Rhonda made a rude noise as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Obviously. Do you realize the power that blood has in it? Why do you think vampires drink it?"

  Wait…hold the phone. Vampires are real?

  Dags shook his head. "Let's not go there just yet."

  "Ignore her. Get on with it. Was getting the tattoos part of being this Guardian thing?"

  He nodded. "I didn't know it though. I was brought into the circle, the quarters were drawn, the same boring hooley-dooley, and then I was told to drink this wine--" he shrugged. "And that was it. I woke up the next morning at my house, in my bed, with my hands in bandages." He held them up. "This is what I found. Only they weren't this nice but all scabby and bloody."

  Ew.

  "And then when the scabs healed there was nothing there--just this insane itch when there are ghosts or spirits or something nearby."

  Oh? So--your palms itch when you sense ghosts? Somehow I found that oddly amusing.

  "Zoë," Dags gave me a warning look.

  "So, they tattooed you," Rhonda had that look on her face--the one that always made my bunny slippers nervous. "And did they happen to tell you what you were supposed to do with them afterward?"

  "Oh yeah. I used them once--once--and learned I could put a whammy on and that scared the crap out of me. When I woke up, I quit."

  She shook her head. "Dags--no one quits The Cruorem."

  Dags and I looked at Rhonda sideways. "What--what did you call them?" he said.

  "I called them what I think they are," Rhonda put her hands to her face and sighed. "Or what group I suspect them to be. Dags, there aren't many out there who could do to you what they did. I think they saw you as a psychic--and probably a pretty good one--and they capitalized on it. I need to call Nona and confirm it. I've only read about them now and then--and I knew they existed here in the South. I just thought they'd faded away. This is bad."

  I waved at her to catch her attention and attempted to sign "Bad?" to her. I hadn't formally taken any classes but I was paying attention to a book she'd bought me while I'd been holed up with Daniel.

  She smiled and nodded. "Yeah, it's bad Zoë."

  Ah! She can be taught!

  Dags stood up--and he didn't wobble. "I only heard them use those words once--during that one assignment I mentioned. We were in the Grand Circle and they were all chanting in Latin. There were three others like me, dressed in white robes and suddenly the whole edge of the circle lit up like those snake moving light things you can buy at Spencer's Gifts?"

  "Were you in the circle or outside of it?"

  "Outside of it. We were standing around it. And after it lit up, my hands started to burn and sort of went up in front of me on their own. Light came out of them--"

  "What color?"

  I glared at Rhonda. Enough already. Scrooge.

  "Uh--whatever color you saw earlier. I've never paid attention."

  Rhonda nodded. "Yellow. You were assigned Air."

  Dags pursed his lips. "Oh-kay. The circle got all foggy and then this--well--this shadowy like man figure thing," he shrugged. "It showed up in the center and screamed and then it beat the circle's edge.

  "Fafner told it he wanted the binding--he ordered it to bring him the binding."

  Rhonda moved in closer. Me? I was standing by the bar, gulping Coke and popping nuts like pop-corn. This was better than a horror movie.

  "Did it agree?"

  "Hell no it didn't. And it tried to get out." He sighed. "That's when the four of us stepped up and well," he glanced at me. "That's when that light came out. And then I woke up--and I wasn't in the circle anymore but somewhere outside in the woods."

  "Alone?" Mom asked.

  He shook his head. "No, the others were there as well. And as we woke up, we got the hell out of there."

  Uh-huh. Well, I thought my life was weird. Not much, huh? Never been kidnapped by a cult and tattooed. Though--I had been touched by a symbiont and turned into a -- well -- a Wraith.

  Go. Me.

  As they talked I started looking around. I was restless, and if I still had a voice I'd call the hospital and ask how Daniel was doing. But see--people don't usually react well to prank calls. And if I called that's what it'd be. Only minus the heavy breathing.

  Pooh.

  But I started to head to the Christmas tree by the piano when I caught sight of one of those Shadow Folk things. It was there, just standing beside the shadows cast by the bar. It was watching us. And I think it was listening.

  And then it noticed me noticing it and ducked away.

  But it didn't leave. And it looked…different somehow.

  I stood where I was, not wanting to alarm the two of them. If need be I could sit down real fast and jump out of my body if I had to chase it. But it really didn't run nor did it make any threatening moves toward Dags or Rhonda--not like before where it wanted to trip them. Instead it was moving in and out of vision--even my vision.

  I watched it for a few minutes, after setting the can of nuts and the Coke on the bar. It moved behind the bar, appearing and disappearing a lot like shadow. And then it stood at the farthest end of the bar, where the fridge was, near the cabinet where the nuts were.

  You want me to come there? I didn't know if it could hear me like Tim and Steve could, or like T.C. or the Phantasm had.

  When it nodded I wanted to yelp. Not that those two over there would notice. They were too busy talking about cults. So I moved slowly back to the snack cabinet. The tiny shadow person looked like it was pointing--up? At the ceiling?

  The wall?

  When it nodded I nodded back. So, if it's pointing at the wall…do you mean something behind the wall? Or the wall itself?

  Oh. It disappeared. Too complicated, huh?

  Well, behind a brick was really more brick, right. So maybe it was indicating an actual brick? Heh--call me Watson. We all know he solved the cases, not the pompous guy with the pipe.

  Kneeling down to where the little guy had been, I noticed one of the bricks was just a tad different. Oh, one of these things is not like the other.

  How convenient.

  So--I started working on it. And it didn't take much to work the brick free. Well, I did use my sneaker--

  "What the hell are you doing?"

  That would be Rhonda. And let's forget the fact she nearly made me wet myself. I ignored her--after recovering from her sudden demand to know what it was I was doin
g--and kept working on the brick. Dags leaned down beside me and helped me get the brick out completely.

  He smelled like…Daniel.

  We knelt there looking at a deep, dark hole. The fact that the area wasn't well lit to begin with wasn't helping.

  Dags looked at me and then the hole. "You found it."

  I shook my head. It's your bar. And if you put your hand in there and fake that someone grabs it--I'll rip your soul right out of your body.

  He looked at me with wide, puppy-dog eyes. And I felt bad since I didn't know if I could really do that. But he didn't know. And he certainly suspected I could.

  Dags did stick his hand in and pulled out a tube--or rather a bunch of brown papers rolled up and tied with string. And it looked old.

  Really old.

  Rhonda reached down between us and grabbed the rolled papers. Dags stood first and then helped me up. My Magical Mischief maker was already unrolling the papers and looking at them.

  We waited. Where was my drink?

  "We need to go." She re-rolled the papers and immediately grabbed my arm on her way by. She half pulled me out of the bar. Her panic was palpable--as well as contagious. My heart started pounding too.

  "Wait--where are you--"

  "Not now, Dags. We have to go now. You can stay here or come with us. But not another word until we get back."

  I pulled free and motioned him to come. Dags shrugged and followed. Both of them went down the stairs. I lingered up top and looked around. I couldn't actually see the little shadow people. But I could tell they were there.

  And somehow I got the impression we'd just done what they intended us to do.

  *****

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Usually I don't fear for my life when Rhonda drives--she's pretty good at it. Mom--not so much. But on this occasion, you'd have thought the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse were after us.

  Or at least the Atlanta Police Department.

  This woman took the changeable lanes on Roswell Road to their limits, dodging Saturday morning traffic with uncanny ability in mom's Volvo. And I somehow got the impression the old car was loving it. I had my right hand on the oh shit handle--that handle up above the passenger side door? Yep--that's what that thing is called.