Into Shadow (Shadow and Light Book 1)

by T. D. Shields

  My heart was pounding as I watched the sliding door roll silently out of our way. I gave the throttle a small twist and my bike slid smoothly forward on the rolling casters. As soon as we were clear of the door, Sharra did something to make it roll closed again while I looked around us carefully for any sign of Lurkers or Shadows.

  I saw nothing, and Sharra didn’t seem to see anything amiss either as she headed west and signaled for me to follow. It was a short, but tense, ride to reach the end of the row of storage units. I think we both breathed a sigh of relief when we saw a mag-lev rail gleaming in the moonlight just ahead of us.

  The rails were set flush with the hard surface of the roads, so all we had to do was roll over the line and flip the switch to turn on the electromagnets. I felt a small jolt as the magnets engaged and the bike rose to hover a scant few inches above the road.

  Sharra turned her head to look at me – or so I assumed since I couldn’t see her face behind the shadow of her visor. But I could clearly see the thumbs-up signal she gave me before she turned forward again and gave the throttle a healthy turn. Her bike shot away down the line, and I could hear her happy whoop floating on the air behind her as she sped away.

  I shouted with excitement myself as I opened up the engine and flew after her. I felt the wind whipping against my exposed skin and plucking at my clothes as I soared through the cool, dark night. The light from the moon and the headlights were the only signs of life to be seen. At that moment we could have been the only people in the entire world.

  For a few minutes I reveled in the sense of freedom. I wasn’t a girl on a mission. I wasn’t on the run from assassins and thugs and demonic lizard-dogs. I was just part of the night.

  I revved the engine a bit more and caught up to Sharra, then leaned to the left and felt the bike pull loose from the rail I was on and skate sideways for a moment before clicking onto the next lane. With a challenging cry, I zipped past Sharra. She responded by speeding up to catch and pass me. We continued our impromptu game of leapfrog as the miles sped by, hopping from one rail to another and weaving in and out of small obstacles in the road when necessary. It just might have been the most fun I’d ever had in my life.

  I was sharply disappointed when Sharra signaled that she was pulling over and came to a stop at the side of the road but obediently pulled over beside her. She flipped up her visor to reveal a wide grin.

  “You’ve got some skills, Red! That was insane … you know, in the good way.”

  I flipped up my visor and beamed back at her. “Completely marvi,” I agreed. “Let’s do it some more.”

  She laughed and told me, “Definitely, but I just wanted to get you oriented so you know where we are and where we’re headed. We’ve been moving pretty much due east coming down out of the mountainous region; now we’re starting into the flatlands where most of the actual city was … is.”

  She pointed to the north and told me, “We’re just passing the Boulder area now. There’s pretty much nothing but rubble left there. A few packs have taken over that section, but as long as you stay out of their way, they’ll leave you alone. South is Rocky Flats. I don’t know what all went on there, but it’s freaky contaminated. Like glow-in-the-dark bad. Just stay clear of it, and don’t stop for anything that you see in that area. If it’s living in Rocky Flats, there’s definitely something wrong and probably very scary about it. I’ve heard that some of the stuff that lives there makes the Shadows look like house pets.”

  I shuddered and promised to avoid Rocky Flats like the plague. Sharra nodded in satisfaction and then pointed east.

  “We’re going to head due east for about another 20 miles to get to the old freeway, then take it south into Denver. There’s plenty of packs with territory between here and there, but the plan is to just get through fast before they have a chance to react and be out of sight before they even think to chase us. Got it?”

  I nodded and asked, “How many people are living here, anyway? Everything I’ve ever been taught says that this is all deserted wasteland, but you talk like there are people everywhere.”

  “It’s not populated like it was before the war, but it’s definitely not empty. There are a lot more people living rough than anyone wants to officially admit.”

  I flipped my visor down, not wanting to have to guard my facial expression as I wondered just who knew about this and why it was such a secret. Sharra didn’t press; she only slid her own visor into place and pulled her bike back onto the nearest rail. I followed close behind as we headed for Denver.

  We still traveled fast, but there were no more playful swoops and passes. Sharra was concentrating on getting us through unnoticed. We almost managed it, too. We had just passed the battered remains of an exit sign for Denver Downtown when we were suddenly no longer the only ones on the road.

  Mag-lev bikes were so quiet that it was possible for us to sneak through areas without being detected, but their quiet operation also meant that this group had been able to sneak right up on us without warning. We were surrounded by almost a dozen bikes, some of them carrying double. They closed in, trying to force us to stop. Sharra revved her engine and shot through a small gap between two riders, taking off down the exit ramp onto the smaller surface streets. I took advantage of her distraction and made the same maneuver, trying desperately to keep Sharra in sight since I didn’t know where we were going.

  We sped through the streets, taking turns recklessly fast as we tried to lose the bikes following so closely behind us. As we flew around yet another corner, one of the bikes caught up to me and tapped the back of my bike with his. The blow popped my bike loose from the mag-lev rail, and it went skidding sideways across the pavement. When the base of the bike hit the curb at the edge of the road, I was flung over the handlebars to land in a crumpled heap on the cracked sidewalk.

  For a moment all I could do was lie there, staring blankly at a weed growing inches from my nose as I tried to catch my breath. From the corner of my eye I saw Sharra slow for a moment, trying to decide if she could help me. Then she leaned low over the handlebars and shot off into the dark streets without me.

  A million small aches and pains made themselves known as I rolled slowly to my knees. I didn’t bother to get up any further than that. I was completely surrounded, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to move fast enough to break loose from all of these people and retrieve my downed bike. Instead, I waited quietly to see what would happen next and watched for an opportunity to escape.

  A tall man dressed in ragged jeans and a leather jacket at least a size too small came to the front of the group and reached down to roughly jerk the helmet from my head and drop it on the ground at his feet. His hair and bushy beard were iron gray and stood out in a frizzy halo around his head, making me think of nothing so much as a dandelion gone to seed. Keeping that image in my head helped me feel less intimidated as he loomed over me, clearly trying to frighten me.

  I tilted my head back to look him squarely in the eyes, which seemed to startle him. I took advantage of the moment and got smoothly to my feet. I didn’t want to stay in such a vulnerable position. This clearly angered him because he reached out with one meaty paw and slapped my cheek. “You’d oughta be more respectful of your betters, little girl,” he growled. “I din’t tell you to stand up.”

  I knew this man. Oh, not his name or his background, but I knew his type. He was a bully through and through, and I had encountered plenty of bullies in my years of playing politics with my father. I had no tolerance for bullies and refused to play along with their little power games. Maybe this was more physical than the social maneuvering I was more used to, but the principles were the same at the core.

  So I ignored my throbbing cheek as I looked him directly in the eyes again and replied, “I didn’t ask your permission. And I certainly wouldn’t consider you my better in any way.” I sneered at him, knowing that it would make him angrier.

  Steam was practically rolling from his ears as he snarled, “What�
�r you doin’ in our patch? Yer trespassin’ and you gots to pay the fine.”

  As he shouted he revealed a mouth full of missing, rotting teeth and a few drops of saliva flew from his lips. I pulled a disgusted face and made a show of wiping at the drops of spittle that had hit my cheeks.

  “Oh really?” I asked coolly. “And just what exactly makes this your territory?”

  “Because I said so!”

  “Oh, certainly. If such a fine, upstanding man as yourself says so, it must be true,” I replied mockingly.

  I could see from the faces of the men and women standing behind Dandelion Man that this kind of defiance was unheard of. Almost all of them were staring at me with wide eyes and several mouths had actually dropped open in shock. Only one person, a boy about my age, seemed more amused than astonished. His shoulder-length dark hair fell in perfect waves around his face as he ducked his head, trying hard to hide a grin at my insolent attitude.

  I tore my eyes away from Laughing Boy, as I immediately nicknamed him in my head. Nice as he was to look at, this was hardly the time to be ogling a cute boy. I really needed to focus on the man in front of me who was currently sputtering in fury.

  Dandelion Man reached out to slap me again. I was ready for it this time, though, and shot my arm up to block the strike. I took the hit on my forearm, toughened from many years of practicing this exact move, and let the blow slide off to the side. Before he could recover from his surprise and try again, I took the offensive.

  My right hand darted forward to grab a handful of greasy beard, and I yanked hard to bring his face closer to mine. “I let you get away with hitting me once,” I hissed, “but don’t try it again.”

  I gave him a bit of a contemptuous shove backward as I released my hold on his beard and fastidiously wiped my hand on my jeans, knowing this was going to enrage him. I was correct and he gave a wordless roar of rage as he charged me.

  He was so blindly focused on his anger that it was even easier than I had anticipated to simply step out of his way. He couldn’t react quickly enough to my change in position and he crashed directly into the brick wall that had been behind me. He fell to the ground without a sound, knocked unconscious by the force of his own attack.

  While his people were still reacting to this strange turn of events, I took advantage of the confusion and ran. I took off into the dark streets and hoped that I could find somewhere to hide before they could get themselves together and track me down. Within seconds I heard shouts and pounding feet behind me as they realized I was getting away.

  I was a fast runner, but they had the advantage of familiarity with these streets while I was running blind. Someone behind me was barking orders to split up and cut me off at the next street.

  I zigged and zagged through the streets, trying to lose my pursuers, but they always seemed to find me again. At one point I caught a glimpse of Dandelion Man, apparently recovered enough to rejoin the chase. I knew that if he caught me again he would take out his frustrations very painfully on my tender skin.

  I ducked into an alleyway and stopped to rest for just a moment, hands on my knees and sucking gasps of air as quietly as I could manage. A tall, slender figure stepped out of the shadows and stopped just out of my reach. It was the boy who had laughed at my impudent response to Dandelion Man.

  Laughing Boy made no move to capture me. Instead, he leaned forward and softly told me, “Every one of these idiots took off chasing you. They left the bikes unguarded. If you can make it back there, you should be able to grab your bike and get out of here.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, “As far as I can tell, you’re one of those idiots. Why would you help me?”

  “Because chasing down a couple of girls and hassling them – and probably worse – just because they crossed the wrong road is not the right thing to do. And I try to do the right thing where I can.”

  I looked deep into his eyes, trying to get a read on whether he was telling me the truth or playing some game of his own. Mostly what I noticed is that he had beautiful, deep brown eyes with tiny flecks of gold. Heavy, dark brows were lowered in concern as he leaned in closer. And unlike Dandelion Man, this boy had a full set of nice teeth in his attractive mouth.

  “I want to help you get out of here,” he said softly. “These are not nice people. You don’t want them to catch up with you.”

  He lightly touched the pattern inked on my cheek and added, “Just get to the bikes and then go south. That will take you into unclaimed territory.”

  I put my hand on his arm. Even under these circumstances, I could appreciate the strong muscles beneath the thin material of his shirt.

  “Come with me then!” I urged. “If they’re that bad, you shouldn’t be here with them either. Help me get loose and come with me to find my friend. She can get you in with her group.”

  “Nah.” He stood up straight again and told me, “I have my reasons for staying. This bunch is a bunch of worthless bastards, but there are others back at home who need looking after. Get outta here before someone sees you and I have to take you prisoner to save face.”

  “Like you could,” I scoffed. “I’ve taken down bigger, better men than you, Laughing Boy.”

  He chuckled and gave me a nickname of my own in response, “I believe you probably have, Little Bit. Go on now. Run for it.” He melted back into the shadows; and I left the alley, trying to find my bearings and figure out which direction would take me back to the bikes.

  Just as I had figured out that I needed to head straight through the alley on the other side of the street, I saw something that made my blood run cold. One of the shadows in the mouth of the alley stirred just a little, and I caught a quick gleam of red eyes shining in the darkness and a glint of moonlight on scaly black skin.

  I froze in the middle of the street, not sure what to do next. Sharra had told me that if I was faced with a Shadow I should run. But running blindly to get away from this animal could put me right back in the arms of the men I was trying to escape. I was still frantically trying to decide my next move when pounding footsteps came racing toward me.

  Dandelion Man and two of his flunkies were running flat out, trying to reach me before I took off again. They were blocking the road to my left. I knew that going right would just take me back into the maze of streets and further from the unguarded bikes. And the Shadow in the alley in front of me moved as if gathering itself to leap out at me.

  I decided to do something no one would expect; I ran straight toward the Shadow. It didn’t seem to know how to react to my full-speed approach and stopped to watch me hurtling toward its hiding place. Taking advantage of the animal’s surprise, I dodged left as I got to the mouth of the alley and leapt up to grab the bars of the fire escape directly above my head.

  Dandelion Man and his friends were so intent on catching me that they didn’t even notice the Shadow until they literally ran into it. The lizard-dog responded viciously to this assault, immediately starting to rip and tear at the men who had fallen into its hiding place. I tried my best not to hear their screams behind me as I dropped to the ground and ran for the bikes.

  Just as Laughing Boy had said, the bikes were unguarded. I ran straight to my bike, tipped drunkenly against the curb. With a sturdy push I was able to stand it upright and slide it back over to the mag-lev rails. I hit the start button before I was even completely astride the bike and was racing away before anyone could see me go.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Taking Laughing Boy’s advice, I did my best to head south but the streets in this part of the city ran at strange angles instead of a more reasonable north/south/east/west pattern. To make matters worse, many streets were completely blocked by the rubble of collapsed buildings, so I had to keep turning onto new streets in order to continue heading south.

  I wasn’t sure how far I needed to go before I could consider myself in neutral territory, but eventually I came to a neighborhood that looked more intact than many of the others I had seen. Though mos
t buildings on the west side of the street were reduced to rubble overgrown with a wild tangle of thorny vines, several small shops on the east side seemed largely intact. I was exhausted at this point and decided my best move was to stop and find a place to rest.

  I turned off the magnets on the bike and it dropped the half-inch or so to rest on the rollers as I steered it away from the mag-lev rail. I dismounted and wrestled the bike onto the sidewalk in front of a shop that looked like it had been a café. I parked the bike in front of the cracked and dusty window and cupped my hands against the glass to peer inside.

  I couldn’t see much in the dim moonlight that filtered through the window, but I could make out a few tables and chairs and a front counter with built-in stools for seating. I saw no signs that anyone or anything was inside. I tried the door, which opened easily but with a loud screech to announce my entrance. So much for taking a quiet look around.

  Since there was no longer any value in being quiet, I stepped inside and called out. “Hello? Anyone in here?”

  I listened intently but heard nothing in response. I ventured in a little further to look around. The tables and counter-top were coated in a thick layer of dust and grime that looked undisturbed except for tracks from some kind of small animals. I grimaced. Probably rats.

  Moving past the front counter I found a small kitchen. It had long ago been ransacked for any food left behind. Doors to the cupboards and refrigerator hung open to reveal empty shelves. All the surfaces here were also coated in dust. It looked like it had been a long time since anyone had been here.

  I saw another door in a shadowy niche beside the refrigerator and across from the old stove. The doorknob turned smoothly, and I slowly inched the door open, ready to slam it closed again if there was anything alarming on the other side. Fortunately, the only thing outside the door was a small, dim alleyway. It was crowded with old trash and building debris, but there was just enough space that I would be able to maneuver the bike down the alley and out to the street.