The Dark Age

by Dallas Mullican

  “It’s so beautiful. I wanna stay here forever.” Spence scooped up a handful of dirt and rubbed it between his hands, the musty aroma bringing a smile to his lips.

  “You still have a life to live out there.” Charlie shook his head. “But it’s good you found your way here…and remembered. Know it’s always waiting whenever you need it, and I’ll be here too. Watching and listening. You’re never alone, Little Brother.”

  A tear seeped into the corner of Spence’s eye. A single blink sent it trailing in a down his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

  “No more of that.” Charlie tugged Spence to his feet and embraced him. “Live, Little Brother. No more regrets or guilt. Love…live. Go on now.” He pointed to the forest.

  Spence, reluctant to release his brother, finally stepped away and walked toward the dense population of trees at the rim of the clearing. As he entered the woods, he glanced back one last time. Charlie waved and his joyous smile warmed Spence and filled him…with peace.

  His eyes opened to slits. Beeps and blips chirped in his ears. Spence shifted his weight on the mattress, the slight movement tugging at tubes and catheters. After a moment, cloudy shapes coalesced into soft white filling his vision. A thin sheet covered him from mid-torso down. Thick gauge bandages wrapped his chest, IVs dangled overhead, and a wide-diameter plastic tube snaked from a hole on his right side, trailing off the bed. Pale-yellow liquid pumped through the hose in sporadic bursts.

  He tilted his head on the pillow. Monitors displayed numbers and pulsing lines in bright green and blue. Sunlight streamed in through a window making him squint, but the warmth felt good on his face.

  Alive. I’m alive.

  Stacy noticed him stir and rushed to the bedside with Tamara not far behind. “Spencer, oh my God.” She leaned in to hug him.

  “Ow, Sis.” He moaned, but grinned.

  “Oh, sorry. How are you feeling?” She poured a cup of water, stuck in a straw, and held it to his lips.

  After a couple of sips, Spence nodded. “I’ll let you know in about a year.”

  Stacy and Tamara, standing on opposite sides of the bed, each took one of his hands. Tamara had yet to speak, but an ecstatic smile covering her face, and the tears in her eyes spoke volumes.

  “Don’t you ever worry us like that again.” Stacy wiped a cool cloth across his forehead with her free hand.

  “How long was I out?” Spence tried to push up in the bed, but a twinge of pain made him rethink the movement.

  “Couple of days,” said Stacy. “The doctor told us you’d be okay, but it didn’t keep us from worrying ourselves sick.”

  “Gibbs, did they…”

  Stacy squeezed his arm. “Yes, he’s dead. Marlowe.”

  Spence craned his head back into the pillow, a wave of relief washing over him. Short-lived, in spite of his vision, as his guilt held on and the memory of Charlie’s body wormed its way in, stealing the moment of gratification.

  “Charlie,” he whispered.

  “Listen to me.” Stacy leaned close to gaze into his eyes. “You did right by Charlie.”

  “If I had been here. If I hadn’t have left.” His voice fell away, pain clinging to the words.

  “You two, so stubborn. But you loved each other. He never stopped caring about you. And in the end, you came for him. No one but you could’ve found him, and he knew that. It’s why he left this for you.” Stacy turned his hand up and placed the silver medallion into his palm.

  Spence stared at it for a long time, embracing the emotions it carried. “Thank you, Sis.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, I’ll give you and Tamara some time alone.” She kissed his cheek, nodded with a smile to Tamara, and left the room.

  Tamara slipped onto the bed with him, cautiously, careful not to hurt him or disturb the lines piercing his body. She laid her head on his chest.

  “I was so terrified. I just got you back and…”

  Moisture from her eyes leaked onto his skin. “Shh, I’m fine. We’re fine. I’m not leaving you. Ever again.”

  Tamara gazed at him. “You mean it? Cross your heart?”

  “Cross my heart, and hope to…”

  Her head darted up with a facetious glare, bringing the sentence to an abrupt halt. “Don’t you dare say it.”

  He grinned and kissed her. “When I get out of here, you’ll wish I’d get lost. I’ll be like your shadow from here on out.”

  “I think I can handle that.” Tamara caressed his face and neck with light fingers.

  “Let’s keep this PG, young’uns.” Koop strolled into the room carrying a vase full of cut flowers. “I’m a sensitive soul, unused to viewing the mating rituals of the elusive stupid detective and his mate.”

  Tamara laughed and pushed off the bed. Spence grunted irritation. “Just what I need, another old crotchety doctor.”

  Koop’s face went taut, serious. “I-I’m glad you will recover, Spencer.”

  Spence raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Spencer? Who are you and what did you do with Koop?”

  The old man fidgeted. “I-I only meant…I mean I wanted to say…Oh damnation, you know what I mean.”

  Spence looked up at Koop, his own expression turning solemn. “Fredrick. When I was lying there, thinking death hovered right above me. I saw you, heard your voice. I knew then, and I prayed I’d have a chance to tell you. All the insults and poking fun at you. All to cover up how I really felt. Fredrick…I love you. I’m sorry Tamara… He glanced to Tamara, who sat in a chair beside the bed, attempting to stifle a giggle. “I’m in love with him.”

  “Bah! I tried for once to show a little concern and compassion and see what I get?”

  “Oh, c’mere you, give me a big ol’ kiss.” Spence held out his arms and pursed his lips.

  “Can we shoot you again? Now I have to tolerate this…this sarcasm and bad humor for God knows how much longer.” Koop, hands on hips, glowered at Spence, but the glint in his eyes betrayed the fact he fought back laughter.

  The room erupted. Spence held his side against a stab of pain, but joy overshadowed any discomfort. Alive. He was alive and had never looked so forward to the future.

  * * *

  Tired and stinking of smoke, muscles sore and wrists chaffed, Marlowe couldn’t wait to get home, take a hot shower, and fall into a bed, but first he wanted to check in on Spence. He had stayed behind after sending the team on in order to consult with the sheriff and tie up any loose ends. Now, he wanted nothing more than to put Lee behind him. Jackson City Hospital was about four hours’ round trip out of his way, but worth it. He set the cruise control to eighty-five mph and cranked up a rock station on the radio to keep him awake. The drive turned out to be more relaxing than arduous, and by the time he reached the hospital, he had found a second wind.

  Marlowe stepped off the elevator on the third floor and made his way down the hall. Lieutenant McCann caught him in the hospital corridor outside Spence’s room.

  “Hold up a sec.” McCann fiddled at his pocket. He couldn’t smoke inside, but it seemed to make him feel more at ease to know a cigar waited within easy reach. “Good work on the Heretic.”

  “Thanks.”

  McCann cracked his knuckles between clasped hands. “Seems your buddy Caesar Ramirez left town all of a sudden.”

  “Really? Can’t say I’ll miss him.” Marlowe practiced an old trick of feigning eye contact while actually looking an inch above the other person’s eyes. If his gaze met McCann’s, the lieutenant would see through him in a second.

  “It’s interesting,” said McCann, staring. “The Feds kept the place under watch. They spotted Ramirez at ten p.m. when he stepped out onto the balcony. When they didn’t catch sight of him or his men the rest of the night or the next day, they sent an agent up to the house posing as a delivery guy. No one home. They got permission from the owner to access the house. The place was clean, like no one had ever been there.”

  Marlowe grunted. “Hmm, that is interesting.”

  “T
hat’s not the interesting part. Of course, when they found Caesar up and disappeared, they figured you had something to do with it. Checked up on you. Turns out you made an unexpected stop by Metro at the same time they last saw Ramirez. Pretty convenient, wouldn’t you say?” McCann arched a bushy red brow.

  “Coincidences are funny things, boss.”

  “Yeah.” Obviously, the lieutenant didn’t buy it, but he let it drop.

  “What about the lumberyard?” asked Marlowe.

  “Department isn’t going to investigate. Once I told them about the scum snatching your kid, and all of them gangbangers with long records, the brass lost interest. Might still see a civil suit or two from the families, but we’ll deal with it.” McCann slapped Marlowe on the back. “Keep your nose clean for a bit, okay?” He thumbed over his shoulder toward the hospital room. “Murray’s one tough bastard. He’ll be fine and busting my chops again in no time.”

  “No doubt about it.” Marlowe watched McCann lumber down the hall, gave him a wave when he reached the elevator, and ducked into the room. “Talk about lazy, look at you,” he said to Spence, who rested with his back against a pillow, Tamara feeding him some kind of pudding.

  “Gotta enjoy the tender loving care while I can, bro.”

  “Good to see your eyes open and you breathing,” said Marlowe.

  “Yeah, I’m not quite ready to test my luck at the pearly gates.”

  Tamara stepped away, giving Marlowe a warm smile. Marlowe shook hands with Koop, who loitered near the window, and pulled a chair to the bedside.

  “Seriously, how are you feeling?”

  “Like I’ve been shot in the chest. Thanks by the way, for Gibbs.”

  Marlowe nodded. “I’ll always have your back. But don’t pull that lone wolf shit again, hear me?”

  “That was my last mission. I’m more a second fiddle kind of guy. The handsome, dashing sidekick.” Spence grinned and reached with a wince for his cup of water.

  “I’ve always thought of you as the comic relief,” said Koop.

  “Then we’d have no use for you at all.” Spence said.

  Koop opened his mouth, seemed to think about it for a moment, and nodded. “Touché.”

  “I hear you got the Heretic,” Spence said, turning back to Marlowe.

  “Yeah, well, Kline did,” said Marlowe.

  Spence looked up, surprised. “Really? I admit I had my doubts about her.”

  “Me too. But she came through. A lot more to her than she lets on.”

  “And your buddy Caesar?”

  Marlowe shrugged. “I don’t think he’ll be a problem anymore.”

  “Glad to hear it. So we’re all caught up for a while?”

  Marlowe gave him a mischievous grin. “Nothing but smooth sailing from here on out.”

  Spence grimaced. “You asshole.”

  * * *

  Marlowe finally pulled into the drive at Becca’s in the early evening. He used his key and entered the foyer, hanging his jacket on the rack next to the door.

  “Honey, I’m home,” he called out in a bad Spanish accent.

  No reply. Marlowe grabbed a beer from the fridge and made his way upstairs. About to check in on Paige, he heard giggling. He peeked inside to find Becca and Paige drawing and painting on the wall. They had pulled the bed away and covered the entire back wall in every imaginable variation of animal, tree, sun, moon, stars, and people. In the center, the figures of a man, woman, and girl holding hands under a smiling sun. He grinned and shook his head.

  I’ll be damned.

  When he got out of the shower, Becca waited in the bedroom. He lifted her into a loving embrace, spun her around, and kissed her deeply.

  “What was that for? Not that I’m complaining,” she said with a laugh.

  “Happy to be home…with you. What were you and Paige doing earlier?” He gave her a whimsical glance.

  “She saw something outside the window and got scared. Mable had gone to the grocery store, so Paige was stuck with me. The poor little thing looked so frightened. I don’t think she cared who came to the rescue. Anyway, I ended up telling her about Max. How scared I was when he tied me up and threatened me. I guess…well, we sorta bonded. I got a wild hair and wanted to build on the momentum. Suggested we finish her mural. The rest, as they say, is history.” Becca thrust her shoulders back with pride.

  “You’re something else, you know that?” Marlowe pecked her on the nose.

  “Yeah.” She laughed.

  “I love you,” he said.

  Marlowe noticed the relief in her expression, as if she’d feared the earlier proclamation would be lost, a fleeting moment of weakness.

  “I love you, too.”

  They embraced again, their kiss lingering and passionate.

  “Gross,” said Paige from the doorway.

  “C’mere you,” said Marlowe.

  Paige ran to them, leaping into Marlowe’s arms. “Am I ever going to get my ice cream? You promised.” She pouted her little lips.

  Marlowe gave her a raspberry on the neck. She giggled and half-heartedly tried to wiggle away.

  He put his forehead to hers and made eye contact. “You know what? That sounds like a great idea. Let’s go get some ice cream.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  After spending twenty years as the lead singer of a progressive metal band, Dallas Mullican turned his creative impulses toward writing. Raised on King, Barker, and McCammon, he moved on to Poe and Lovecraft, enamored with the macabre. During his time at the University of Alabama at Birmingham, where he received degrees in English and Philosophy, Dallas developed a love for the Existentialists, Shakespeare, Faulkner, and many more great authors and thinkers. Incorporating this wide array of influences, he entices the reader to fear the bump in the night, think about the nature or reality, and question the motives of their fellow humans. Dallas lives in the South and is currently at work on his next installment in the Marlowe Gentry series of thrillers.

  Next in the Detective Marlowe Gentry Series

  from Scarlet Galleon Publications

  October’s Children by Dallas Mullican

  Three six-year-old girls vanish from a playground in Red Weed, Alabama, and they aren’t the first. Two others have disappeared over the last five years, all in October. Marlowe Gentry and his team believe the abductions are part of a ritual, the kidnapper acting out some event from their past. Clothes and toys taken suggest the children are still alive and being held captive—for now.

  As he delves deeper into the case, Marlowe finds a town where everyone hides personal demons—and secrets. To uncover the truth, he and his team must peel back layers of deception, veiled agendas, and horrible realities.

  The clock is ticking. The girls don’t have much time left…if it isn’t already too late.

  If you missed the first book in the Detective Marlowe Gentry Series

  from Scarlet Galleon Publications, pick up a copy now!

  A Coin for Charon by Dallas Mullican

  GABRIEL ISN’T MURDERING ANYONE.

  HE’S SAVING THEM.

  The media has dubbed him the Seraphim Killer. He believes the gods have charged him to release The Chosen—those for whom life has become an unbearable torment. Gabriel feels their suffering: his hands burn; his skull thunders; his stomach clenches. Once they are free, he places gold coins over their eyes, to pay Charon for passage into Paradise.

  Detective Marlowe Gentry has spent the past two years on the edge. The last serial killer he hunted murdered his wife before his eyes, and left his young daughter a mute shell. Whenever the girl looks at him, her dead eyes push him farther into a downward spiral of pain and regret. The Seraphim Killer is his opportunity for revenge, a chance to forgive himself—or die trying.

  Is Gabriel a messenger of God?

  Is Marlowe on a mission of redemption—or revenge?

  The truth is hiding somewhere in the night.

  Titles from Scarlet Galleon Publications

&nbs
p; Dead Harvest: A Collection of Dark Tales

  Dark Hallows: 10 Halloween Haunts

  Dark Hallows II: Tales from the Witching Hour

  Darkness Whispers (Ltd. Ed. Hardcover)

  Fearful Fathoms: Collected Tales of Aquatic Terror

  (Vol. I – Seas & Oceans)

  Fearful Fathoms: Collected Tales of Aquatic Terror

  (Vol. II – Lakes & Other Bodies)

  * Dark Hallows III: Blood Moon

  (13 Vampiric Tales)

  Dallas Mullican Novels

  Detective Marlowe Gentry Series

  A Coin for Charon

  The Dark Age

  * October’s Children

  Aamon’s War Trilogy

  * Blood for the Dancer

  * The Sun at Night

  * Song of the Unspoken

  Standalone Novels

  * The Music of Midnight

  * (forthcoming)