Rita looked from Kelly to her dead friend. “I’ll be right back.” She patted Kelly on the shoulder.
“Okay,” Kelly said numbly, her eyes fixed on the trail of blood left by Stew’s head. It wasn’t supposed to be there, staining the hardwood floor and part of the expensive rug before the fireplace.
Rita looked at the girl for a moment, looking at her cold eyes, searching for her sanity and finding very little. But could she really blame Kelly? Rita shook her head and darted off into the restaurant, ripping a tablecloth off the table nearest the door. She ran back into the lobby and gently nudged Stew’s head across the floor with her foot, tapping him gently with an expression of pure sorrow. She quickened her pace, not wanting to draw this out any longer then she had to in front of the young girl and boy. Once the head rolled to a stop beside its body, Rita draped the cloth over them.
Richard was thankful to see the white sheet cover his friend. He had seen what he assumed were Stew’s lower intestines spilling out his side like a linked sausage. That’s not something you’re supposed to see. That’s a private thing, an inside thing, and yet there it was. Richard looked up from the white sheet to Kelly, seeing the same expression across her face as the one he knew he wore. She was looking down, nodding her head continually as if Stew were speaking to her from beyond the grave.
“What’s your name?” Rita asked Kelly, kneeling between her and the body, taking hold of her hands. “You can tell me, sweetheart.” She spoke slowly, smiling to keep this a calm conversation between friends. “What’s your name?”
“Kelly.”
“That’s excellent, Kelly. My name is Rita. I’m a ranger here with the park. Now I want you and your friend to stay with me and remain…” Rita looked back over her shoulder and stood quickly, backing away from Richard. “Oh my God.”
Kelly screamed louder than she’d ever thought possible, stretching the limits of her vocal cords. Richard sat across from her, slumped forward, his head missing from his body. Blood squirted from the open neck like a red fountain. To Kelly’s horror, Richard stood from his seat across from her and turned, his hands twitching. Rita and Kelly both stood back, afraid he might come lunging toward them in a mad dash. He gave a final hard convulsion before falling to the ground. But this couldn’t be happening; not to someone she loved, someone she’d shared her bed with almost nightly for the past few months. This man could have been the future father of her children. How could he be dead, right before her without any regard as to how she might feel? This was just some kind of cruel joke, played against her by all her friends. They hadn’t gone missing—Doug, Rowena, Marco, Janice, Stew, Sonia, and now Richard. Why was it doing this to her? Was it some kind of personal vendetta, taking out her friends? Kelly covered her mouth and eyes and shivered, standing there before the fireplace with all its warmth, feeling frozen and alone. The man she loved lay twitching before her on the ground, but she couldn’t see him. She didn’t want to see him. But she removed her hand from her eyes and looked down at his body, remembering all the nights she’d ran her hands over his smooth stomach. This just couldn’t be happening.
Kelly turned to Rita, hoping maybe she could offer some kind of explanation, maybe fill her in on some sick joke she and Richard had played on her. But Rita was gone.
“Rita?” Kelly whispered, her throat sore from screaming. “Where are you? Rita?” Kelly turned in a slow circle, running her hands through her hair. She was losing her mind. Everyone around her was disappearing right before her eyes. “Where are you? Answer me!” Kelly fell to her knees and sobbed uncontrollably, wrapping her arms about her shoulders. “Don’t leave me! Why did everyone have to leave me all alone?” Kelly whimpered, her voice broken by her hitching tears.
“What the hell is going on?” Dale yelled from the second floor, rushing down the stairs towards Kelly with the beam of his flashlight bouncing back and forth.
“What happened?” Joe asked, stopping at the top stair, looking at Richard’s remains. “Dear God, this thing is still here.” Joe gripped his shotgun tight, running the beam of the flashlight over the walkways and level across from them. “Keep together.” Joe hurried down the stairs, wanting to keep the distance between him and everyone else to a bare minimum.
“This thing is toying with us.” Fred pressed his back to the fireplace, stepping up onto the stones. “It’s fucking playing with us.”
“It’s smarter than we think.” Joe knelt over Richards’s body, looking at the clean cut across his neck. “Cut him clean and easy, as if he were made of butter. But where the hell is his goddamn head?” Joe looked up to the rafters, knowing the creature could be anywhere above them, watching and waiting. He put a hand to the gashes through his cheek, cringing at the pain. “Where’s Rita?” Joe stood, looking past the fireplace into the restaurant. “Hey?” Joe crossed the room and gripped Kelly by the shoulders, pulling her up off the ground to stand before him. “Where’s Rita?” He gave her a hard shake when there was no answer. “Wake the fuck up!” Joe slapped her across the face.
“I don’t know,” Kelly muttered, her voice shaking.
Joe pushed her back, irritated. She shouldn’t even be there and was putting all their lives in danger. Now he had all her friends’ deaths on his hands. Rita had been kind enough to stay behind to watch this little bitch and now where was she? She was kind, and at times he’d wanted to love her. But where was she now? Probably dangling from some rafter because that little moron had wanted to get famous with some video; typical punk-ass kids causing trouble while decent men and women were putting their asses on the line. He wanted to use this idiot as bait, leave her tied up to a chair in the middle of the room and wait for this creature to come in for its hourly snack. But that wouldn’t be right. His job was to protect everything within the park, even stupid employees out to ruin his career and lay criminal charges against him with some hidden video footage.
“Listen…” Joe turned to Kelly, his words falling short. “Are you all right? What’s wrong?”
Kelly’s shoulders had dropped, her face going slack. Every muscle in her face relaxed. Her tears had stopped. She lifted her head and looked him in the eyes, pleading with him to help her. Blood drooled from her mouth, rolling over her lips.
“Please” was the last word she could manage, struggling to say it.
Joe followed her eyes down to her abdomen, her hands cupping a small black protrusion sticking through her stomach. She let out a single tear before she was pulled into the darkness. Joe leaned forward, reaching for her, but it was too late. He raised his shotgun, moving his light madly back and forth, but there was nothing. She was nowhere to be seen.
“She’s gone.” Dale hurried over. “Look, this bastard’s just going to pick us off one by one.”
“I’m not going to be this monster’s late night snack.” Fred stood with his back to Dale, watching the high ceiling with dread. He couldn’t see anything above them but darkness. “We need to come up with a better plan here.”
“Okay, let’s get all the lights together.”
42
None of them would have ever suspected they would start the day hunting down some undiscovered monster, then end up huddled together in an ice cream parlor. Their shotguns lay across the table between their bowls of ice cream. Joe had been in the Inn a hundred times, and figured the ice cream parlor was the best place to think; not too many shadows or distant corners, the ceiling only a few feet above them. Joe got up from the booth and went behind the counter, lifting the glass to give himself access to the tubs of ice cream below. He wasn’t all that hungry, but this was a great distraction; a choice beyond deciding which of his friends should die next. Andy was the first and now Rita. He didn’t give a fuck about all those kids. They shouldn’t have even been up there, but they’d been incredibly foolish; just like his own stupid kid, just like his Ryan. Joe gripped the top of
the glass case and began to cry, losing himself in the events of the last few hours. He saw their faces passing before his eyes, one by one like a slideshow of lives taken. All of them had been taken in such violent ways, torn from life by a pair of sharp fangs and claws. Joe wiped the tears away with the back of his arm, looking up from the counter to the backs of Fred and Arnold, Dale’s solemn face.
Joe took a deep breath and picked up the ice cream scoop off the counter, reaching into the cooler to help himself to three scoops of chocolate ice cream, shaking the last scoop till it finally gave up and fell into the bowl. He threw caution to the wind, opening the topping station to his right, and piled on two scoops of M&M’s, chocolate chips, nuts, and some whipped cream. He figured this might very well be his last night on earth. Why get pissy over small things like calories? Joe carried his sundae back to the table and took a seat beside Dale, handing the men their spoons and napkins.
“Kind of an odd turn of events.” Fred looked up from his own ice cream, two scoops of chocolate. “Normally I don’t even eat this shit. Gives me the runs.” Fred cracked a smile. “Of course I’d trade a twenty-four hour bout of the runs for hanging out here.”
“What time is it?” Arnold asked, his head down.
Joe looked at his watch. “It’s three forty. Sunrise is in just over two hours.” He knew what they were all thinking. “If we don’t come up with something soon, we’re going to lose our best chance at killing this bitch. I’m doubtful we can keep this park closed for long, if it’s even still in here.”
“It’s in here.” Dale took a scoop of ice cream, speaking over the cool treat. “It won’t leave until it’s had a taste of every single one of us. Not until we’re all dead.”
“Then we need to kill it first.”
“Sounds great, Joe. But now where’s the plan?” Fred crossed his arms.
“My plan ended with us being locked inside this ice cream parlor, huddled around this table while we’re being hunted. Now, unless this thing is allergic to ice cream, I don’t really know how to stop it.”
“Never thought it would end this way.” Fred pushed his bowl toward the center of the table. The sweetness was no match for the growing dread in his stomach.
Fred had been at the bottom of his barrel seven years ago, after his wife left him out of the blue, leaving him with their apartment and nothing more than a few boxes of his stuff. She’d been cheating on him for more than a year with a mutual friend and had become pregnant. The only person he’d ever loved had betrayed him, leaving him in a dark depression he thought would consume him. The night she’d left, Fred had gone into the bathroom and punched the mirror, holding a sliver of glass to his wrist. He’d dragged the jagged glass through his flesh, drawing blood, but not deep enough to sever the vein. Not until tonight had he felt like that again, the same dread welling up inside him. As with that night, he felt that his life might very well be over.
“Life sure has a way of kicking you right in the balls.” Joe finished his ice cream, closing his eyes to will away the cold burn in his head.
“I always assumed I’d end up dying on the job.” Dale pushed his bowl aside and leaned back. “Years back I was responding to a warehouse fire in downtown Billings. The building had been cleared; same old story. We’d been doing a sweep when the fire reached some barrels full of highly flammable chemicals. There was an explosion.” Dale looked out the dark window, disturbed by the memory. The flashlights set at the shop’s entrance shined on them, his reflection staring back at him. “The barrels exploded, putting me smack dab in the middle of a flash burn. The explosion had left an ash outline of my body on the wall, leaving me with these lovely parting gifts.” Dale rolled up his sleeves, exposing the scars. “A constant reminder of how close I’d come to death.” He looked from the window to Joe, a bit shocked to see he was smiling. “This really isn’t meant to be a humorous story.”
“No, that’s not it.” Joe looked at the table, tapping it repeatedly as he tried to focus his train of thought. “You’ve given me an idea. How does one kill a shadow?” Joe looked to each of them. “With light!”
“We’ve been shining light on his ass all night, but it’s done nothing but annoy it.”
“True, but Dale would agree that some flashes of light are stronger than others.”
“What do you have in mind?” Dale leaned forward, folding his hands atop the table.
“We need to fill a room full of propane tanks, gasoline, and gunpowder, anything explosive. Then we lure it into one of the rooms and blow it to hell.”
There was a brief moment of silence, the four of them running the plan through their minds.
“No, we can’t.” Fred shook his head. “We risk burning down the entire Inn with this plan.”
“I’ll act as the bait, luring this bastard into the room we have rigged up. The rest of you stand by across the hall with every fire extinguisher in the Inn. As soon as I run into the room, I’ll trigger the explosion while jumping out the window. Once you hear the big boom, come in and put out the flames.”
“I just don’t know.” Dale absently ran a hand over the scars under his sleeve. “It seems extremely risky. How do you plan to detonate the explosion?”
“We’ll use one of the flares. I’ll toss it behind me as I jump out the window.”
“Holy shit, this is insane.” Fred laughed, imaging Joe flying through the air as the flames licked at his heels. “Do you have any idea how perfectly timed this is all going to have to be?”
“Yes I do.” Joe smiled, looking overly confident despite the task at hand. “We’re no better off than we would be just sitting here while this thing eats us. At least this way we have a fighting chance. Better than letting this monster run loose in the park.”
“This plan is totally crazy.” Dale nodded. “But I think it’s the best one we’ve got.”
43
Joe moved with purpose, removing the padlock and chains from the front entrance, tossing them to the floor. He gripped the handles and froze, looking back over his shoulder to the white tablecloths lying before the fireplace. He’d been thankful they’d covered Richard as well, hiding his ripped open neck. Joe gripped the door handle and paused. Opening this door gave the creature an option to leave, a way out before they could try his insane plan. But it didn’t seem to matter. He’d seen the window upstairs, smashed to hell without any effort. Truth of the matter was that if this thing wanted to leave it wouldn’t wait for them to open a door. Still, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t be securing the chain around the handles when he came back in. The bastard didn’t want to leave. It wanted to drag them into the darkness and rob them of their lives.
Joe hurried down the front steps and unlocked his truck, grabbing two full tanks of propane out of the back. He grunted against the weight, the tanks banging against his legs. Once inside the door he set down the tanks and ran the chain back through the handles, securing them with the padlock. This would have been enough to keep most things at bay, but there were no limits to this creature. It could climb walls, run along the ceiling, and lift a man off the ground with ease.
“We’ve got one more tank in the middle room.” Dale took one of the tanks from Joe, motioning with his head toward the first floor hall just past the fireplace. “The screen is off the window and it just needs to be opened.” Dale pushed the door open with his foot and set the tank beside the first one, looking down at them as Joe added the third. “This pretty much goes against everything we stand for.”
“Which part? Murdering undiscovered creatures or setting an intentional fire to a historic inn?”
“I guess it’s both.”
Joe was thankful for the brief dash of humor, as short-lived as it was. Joe took a deep breath and closed his eyes, finding it difficult to watch as he doused the floor by the door with gasoline. Was he really going to set fir
e to something that symbolized the park he’d sworn to protect? Didn’t seem as though he really had a choice. So much had already been lost, so many lives; good people who had looked up to him, shared a vehicle with him as he rode through the park or assisted in some emergency. They knew his secrets and faults, but they hadn’t judged him. His alcoholism had become an everyday red flag within the office, something they looked away from out of respect. No, he had to do this. He poured the gas over the tops of the propane tanks, his hands trembling from what would soon be asked of him.
“Here’s the flare.” Dale handed the single flare to Joe.
Joe took it, feeling the weight in his hands. Like being passed the baton in a race he didn’t want to run. This was the tool that would either save them all or toast his ass like a marshmallow over a campfire. Joe tucked the flare into his belt, turning to measure the distance from the door to the window. Joe counted the steps, one foot after the other; fifteen total, fifteen short little steps. He took hold of the small crank and turned it, moving the window out over the ground below, just a few inches at a time. If he had to do this with the creature on his ass he’d be eaten for sure. Once it had gone as far as the metal bar would allow, Joe climbed up onto the sill. It was more than wide enough, but a little high off the ground. Might pose a problem, but it was the best they had.
“What’s the signal?” Fred stood in the doorframe of the room across the hall, setting the last fire extinguisher they could find inside the room. Fred kept his eyes glued to the lobby, thankful there were only two ways to come at them; from the lobby ahead or the stairwell behind.
“I think the massive explosion should be enough to get you moving.”
“Maybe we should only use one tank of propane?” Arnold pushed past Fred and peeked into the room. “Won’t this cause far too much damage?”
Faithful Shadow Page 23
