Dale and Joe turned as a black hand reached down from the second floor stairs and sank its three fingers into Bob’s face, digging its nails deep into his eyes and mouth. Bob could only thrash about, flailing his arms and legs madly as the shadow creature pulled him up the wall and into the darkness of the second floor.
“No!” Dale screamed, running out from behind the stairs to look up into the second floor, seeing nothing but a trail of blood along the wall.
A shower of blood rained down on them, hitting them hard as if dumped from a bucket. They both cradled their heads and dove into the hallway, sliding along the smooth wooden floor now soaked in Bob’s blood. Joe grabbed Dale by the forearm and pulled him along the ground, crawling their way back toward the lobby. Joe yelped as Rita took hold of his hand, helping them to their feet. They turned and ran back to the fireplace as a snarl drifted down the hall.
“Whose blood is this?” Rita pulled away from Joe, wiping the blood from her hands onto her pants.
Joe held up his hands and turned them back and forth, his mouth open in shock. He was covered in someone’s blood, drenched in it, soaked through his clothes. He could only shiver against the unsettling stickiness on his hair and arms, the red beads rolling down his back.
Dale dropped to his knees, shaking his head wildly from side to side. He’d never seen anything like that in his life; someone lifted off the ground by their face, gripped like a human bowling ball. Now he was wearing his blood like a damn coat. Dale picked some hair from his arm; little pieces of Bob left behind like confetti from a party. He’d throw up if his mind hadn’t temporarily shut down, blown a fuse trying to process what he’d just witnessed—the horrific death of one of his own firemen.
“We need to get these lights back on.” Rita motioned toward the overhead lights.
“No, we can’t.” Joe’s teeth were chattering. “The box is totally destroyed.”
Fred ran into the restaurant and ripped some tablecloths off the table, spilling the plates and silverware to the floor in a loud crash. He hurried back, draping them over Dale and Joe’s shoulders. The pristine white cloths turned a dark pink on impact. Joe eagerly wiped the blood from around his mouth and eyes, digging his nails in deep and yet still feeling dirty. He figured it would take more than a dozen baths filled with scalding water before he could feel clean again.
“How could some animal cut the power?” Andy was shivering, pulling away from Joe but not wanting to leave the light of the fire. Andy couldn’t get past it. He worked around animals, knew their behavior. He could recite the hibernation schedule of the bears throughout the park, how long the elks’ antlers can get. He can tell you migration paths of the buffalo. But not one of them could cut the power from a building. Andy knew where this line of thinking was heading, but he cut it off. There were people and there were animals, nothing higher and nothing in between. He knelt beside the fire and took shelter in its warm glow.
Joe looked at his hands, holding them out to the light of the fire. He could see Bob’s blood caked beneath his fingernails. Had he put his hands in his mouth since he’d been back? Chewing his nails was something he’d done since he was a little boy. His mother had often remarked that he’d gnawed his fingers down to bloody stumps. This might be the one thing to finally get him beyond the annoying habit. Having someone else’s blood drying beneath his fingernails made them look very unappetizing.
“We don’t have to go hunting this thing.” Dale looked up from the floor, his eyes flooded with woe. “This creature is hunting us.”
“No!”
Dale nearly fell off the bench, flailing his arms backward as the sound of screaming boomed down from the rafters.
“Who’s up there?” Joe yelled. “Get your lights up.” Joe aimed his flashlight at the walkways above, unable to pinpoint the exact location of the screaming. The voices bounced off the walls like a rubber ball, filling the lobby. “Who is up there?” Joe screamed.
A camcorder came crashing to the floor between them, hitting the ground with such force it bounce and shattered into multiple pieces. Andy dove, missing the camera by mere inches.
“Stew!” A woman’s voice shot out from the dark. “Stewart!”
Joe followed the voice to the third floor, aiming his light on a woman’s face, one he recognized. Kelly ignored the bright light shining into her eyes. She looked up at the fourth floor where Stew had been plucked up from the walkway and carried off into the rafters. Sonia and Richard pulled at her arms, nearly dragging her down the stairs to the second level.
“What happened?” Dale followed them with his light and the rest followed suit, lighting them up as they ran down the stairs to the first floor. “Who else is up there?”
“Stew was…he…” Kelly couldn’t say it. She just couldn’t quite put the words into a sentence.
“Something took him.” Richard wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her toward the fire, toward people and light. “We were laying up there and it just took him.”
“What were you doing up there?” Joe shined his light right in their eyes, recognizing all of them. “Huh? What the hell were you doing hiding up there with a camcorder? Expecting a little show while we’re down here getting our asses chewed off?”
Stew’s body splattered down between them, landing on the remains of the camcorder with a wet smack. The impact popped his head off, hitting Andy just above the right knee. The color of his flesh had gone gray, dry, and cracked. Despite the torn remains, there was little blood to be found. Kelly and Sonia began shrieking, gripping the air with their hands.
“What is this thing?” Rita aimed her flashlight up to the rafters, the beam not strong enough to illuminate the high ceiling. “Like some kind of fucking vampire?”
“It’s some kind of shadow creature,” Joe said, running his light along the banister of the third floor. The girls hadn’t stopped shrieking. “Someone shut them up!” Joe shot the girls an irritated glance.
“How do you expect to find a shadow creature in a place like this?” Rita asked, suddenly wishing she’d opted to stay in Gardiner.
“Tell us what happened, why you’re here?” Joe shined the light in Richard’s face.
Richard mouthed the words, but nothing came out. He couldn’t take his eyes off Stew’s body, his severed head spinning in slow circles; the shredded flesh of his face forever frozen in a look of terror and surprise.
“Hey!” Joe slapped him across the face, leaving a red handprint across his cheek.
“We wanted to expose what you’re doing here.” Richard sheltered his cheek. “After we heard what was happening, we knew you weren’t going to tell the truth about Doug and Rowena.” Richard was furious; his voice shaking and close to tears. He did everything he could to keep his eyes up and off the dead body of his friend. “Stew hated you.” Richard began to cry, unable to stop.
“You stupid kids.” Joe shinned his light in Kelly’s eyes, then moved to Sonia. But he stopped there, turning his head to the side with a squint. “Miss?”
Sonia stood perfectly still, her eyes distant. Her mouth began to drop, hanging open as if she’d fallen asleep while standing there. Her eyes didn’t dilate, even with the light shining directly in her eyes. The flashlight’s beam cast her shadow on the wall behind her, but there was something unnatural about it. It was too dark. Her shadow turned its head toward them, snarling with its piercing green eyes. It turned on Sonia, gripping her beneath the arms as it pulled her up the wall and into the darkness of the rafters.
“Sonia!” Kelly screamed. “Let her go, you bastard!”
They shielded their heads as blood began to rain down on them, falling from the ceiling as if from the sprinkler system. Dale grabbed Kelly by the arm and pulled her hard toward the restaurant, flinging her into Andy. Richard ran over, looking back over his shoulder and expecti
ng to see Sonia’s body fall, but it never did. Just the slow drip of blood. Joe pressed his back to the fireplace and kept his flashlight aimed at the ceiling.
“Come on, show yourself.” Joe had his rifle cocked and ready to rock. “Show your fucking face and smile.”
It leapt forth and slapped Joe across the face, dragging its claws through the flesh of his cheek. In a flash, it sat on the ground between them, crouched and ready with its fierce eyes and sharp fangs displayed in a loud snarl. It lashed out and attached itself to Andy’s face, tackling him to the ground hard enough to slide along the polished floor. It hopped off Andy, dug its thick hand into his mouth and took off down the hall, dragging Andy along behind it. Andy gurgled and thrashed, helpless to do anything.
“You son of a bitch!” Joe screamed at the top of his lungs, breaking out into a full sprint down the hall. Blood gushed from his cheek unnoticed; the pain dwarfed by his rage.
“Watch them,” Dale said to Rita as he took off after Joe.
Arnold and Fred picked two shotguns up off the floor and hurried after their lieutenant.
40
Joe wasn’t thinking straight. He just focused on getting his man back, his friend. The pain from the creature’s claws across his face was intense, singeing his flesh. He wanted to scream so badly, but there wasn’t time to bleed and certainly no time to take a seat and cover up his torn flesh. Poor Andy had been hauled off like a fish with a hook in his mouth. A man he’d worked beside for so many years was being tortured and eaten alive. He’d been too slow. The thing had leapt out of nowhere after hauling that poor girl up into the rafters, tossing him aside like a weak little schoolboy. But it had made the mistake of keeping him alive. He may be an alcoholic, but now he was focused and sober; a drunk on a mission. Joe kept one eye ahead of him while following the trail of blood along the middle of the hallway. He reached the stairwell and followed the blood trail with his light up the wall to the second floor; Andy’s blood blending with Bob’s.
“I don’t think we can do this.” Dale ran up behind him.
“Come on. It’s on the second floor. This hallway doesn’t connect to the lobby so there’s a good chance it’s trapped.”
“We need more men.” Fred was nervous, eyeing the blood trail. The thing had lifted a full grown man up the wall without slowing down.
“Then go get them,” Joe snapped, ignoring them as he slowly took the stairs, darting his rifle back and forth to illuminate the dark corners.
He stopped at the top of the stairs and looked down at the soaked carpet. The blood trail had gone cold, disappearing at the top of the stairs. But there was no body. Joe shined his light along the walls, seeing the same tiny puncture holes. He saw a lump at the back of the hall, sitting in the corner. He hurried forward and lifted up Andy’s head, turning away from the torn and dangling flesh. His throat had been ripped wide open. Joe placed a hand on Andy’s shoulder and began to cry. This was his fault. Andy had come here because Joe had asked for his help and Andy never turned him down. He’d practically forced him into it. Now he lay at the end of the hall in a pool of his own blood.
“I’m sorry, but there will be time for mourning later.” Dale pulled at Joe’s shoulder. “We need to find it.”
Joe took a deep breath and stood. Dale was right, there would be a time to mourn for his friend after this thing was dead and stuffed in the ranger station. They needed to stop it now while it was still somewhere on the second floor. Joe bent down and grabbed his shotgun. He took a master key from his pocket and went to the first door. He unlocked it, stood to the side and made eye contact with Dale, nodding. He threw open the door and jumped inside, shining his light from side to side. Joe checked beneath the bed and then the closet. Fred and Arnold kept their lights shining down the hall while Dale covered Joe.
With the first room down they moved onto the next one across the hall, guns drawn and flashlights shining, but nothing; one by one, back and forth across the hall, but nothing. Joe gripped the handle of the last door and waited, his rage bordering fear. Dale, Fred, and Arnold gave a little nod of readiness. Joe threw open the door.
“No!” Joe yelled, looking across the room to the shattered glass of the window. “Goddamn it.” Joe kicked the bed repeatedly, knocking the top mattress from the box spring.
“It got out.” Fred said matter-of-factly as he entered the room. He went to the closet and opened it, shining a light inside just to make sure.
“It got away.” Joe looked at Dale, his eyes helpless. “It got out.”
“I know.” Dale took a seat beside him on the floor. “It’s not your fault.” He looked at Joe, startled. “Oh damn, we need to get that looked at.” Dale hopped up and hurried into the bathroom, grabbing Joe a towel, soaking it in the sink. He handed the damp towel to Joe.
Joe pressed the towel to the three slashes in his check. The flesh burned. Worse was the smell. That same sewage stench he’d caught a whiff of back in the creature’s cavern now lingered on his own skin; quite possibly doing some kind of internal damage, like a toxin.
Dale felt deflated, sharing Joe’s expression. They’d been bested by this creature, this shadow monster. It had killed three of his men and dashed out into the night; no trial or jury, no consequences for its actions. Worse yet, judging by the mounds of bones within its lair, it would continue to kill, pulling innocent people and animals down into its hole. Dale didn’t know what to tell the families of his fallen men. Sorry, lost your husbands and sons to some monster of the forest. Dale lowered his head into his hands, hiding from the room and the pain of his failure.
41
“Here, just have a seat and calm yourself.” Rita maneuvered Kelly into the restaurant, pulling out a chair from the table nearest the host station. “You’ll be safe here.”
“Don’t leave me!” Kelly lashed out, holding onto Rita’s arm, digging her fingers into the ranger’s flesh.
“Calm down, I’m just going to get your friend and bring him over, okay?”
Kelly nodded, folding her hands and sticking them between her legs. She took a deep breath, but it didn’t calm her heart. Her mind wouldn’t move beyond the gruesomeness of her friends’ deaths. It was one thing to know your friends were missing, possibly suffering or dead. But that was it; it was a possibly. Right now she’d take that word and throw it a damn parade, confetti and all. She had definitely, not probably, just watched someone she’d spoken to almost nightly, a true friend, get pulled into the darkness and then dodged her blood as it dripped from the ceiling. It wasn’t something you can just move beyond. She had shared a room with Sonia. She had worked with her, side by side, telling jokes and people watching with her. There had been times, although not too many, when she’d envied her. She’d wanted to just walk up to someone and have Sonia’s friendly nature. But now she was gone.
No, that couldn’t be right. It just didn’t process, but it had to be real. She had been up there no more than ten minutes ago, high up above the lobby with her friends. Stew had been beside himself with the frantic footage he was getting from the men below. He had leaned in close to Sonia and told her this was big time news shit. But then they’d heard a gurgle, a wet noise. Kelly had leaned forward to see beyond Sonia, noticing that the camera had begun to tilt a little too much. Stew’s face had turned to the side, slowly lowering to the walkway. His eyes were open and he was looking at her, but he didn’t see her. They had gone distant. Blood began to seep from the corners of his mouth. Kelly looked up toward the ceiling and saw a long, thin arm stretching down from the dark rafters. She screamed, yelling out a single word before he’d gone completely limp, dropping the camera. Even now she wondered how that thing had lifted a big man like Stew off the walkway like that. Pulling him up into the darkness while it tore into him.
Kelly shook her head, the vision bringing a flood of tears. She gripped her arms and rocked
back and forth in the chair, alone in the empty, dark restaurant. That got her attention. Kelly wiped her tears away, lifting the neckline of her shirt to dry them quickly. It was far too dark and open in here, too many shadows hanging about the ceiling, filling the corners of the room. She was not going to be this thing’s next victim. The feeling of having something jammed into her, sharp teeth tearing through her flesh as easily as her own teeth could tear through the skin of a grape, was simply not for her; no, not her. Kelly stood and rushed out of the restaurant, shaking her head wildly.
“I’m not gonna stay there alone.” Kelly took a seat on the bench closest to the fire, taking comfort in its heat and light.
“Okay, that’s fine. We’ll just stay here together.” Rita smiled, taking a seat beside Kelly. “What’s your name, dear?”
Kelly didn’t answer. Stew’s mutilated corpse was still lying in the middle of the lobby, his head facing away from her, seven feet from his body. She began to cry, rocking back and forth. Richard was sitting across from her, looking calm and collected, staring down at the firelight flickering over the wooden floor. Kelly wanted him to cross the room and comfort her, to hold her. How dare he sit across the room and deal with his own pain when she was feeling so helpless? She loved him and therefore needed him. Didn’t he know that? Kelly cried harder, looking back at the severed head of her friend. She could hear Stew’s voice from so many previous conversations, the deepness of his tone. It was quite obvious he’d never say another word again; not when his head was seven feet from his body.
Faithful Shadow Page 22
