by Joshua Grove
“I doubt he thought anyone would find it,” she laughed. Matthew began crawling through the small opening.
“This is absolutely insane,” Amy said as she followed behind him. Matthew didn’t say anything, but he had to confess that it wasn’t a normal day in the life of the clergy.
“Look at it this way,” he said. “You are about to see a whole new side of religion.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
* * * * * *
2
Trevor couldn’t believe it. Seeing the shadow was one thing, but this shit was insane. The television screens kept changing, but there were only three scenes. Each of the groups of televisions was showing an area of the forest as if it were a giant camera. And what they were watching was straight out of the movies.
“Trevor, dude, get back here,” Tommy ordered. Trevor just shot him the finger from behind his back and continued watching. Tommy walked up to retrieve him, but when he saw the screens he froze.
“Crazy, right?” Trevor whispered.
“What’s going on?” Tommy asked.
“The shadow is chasing the cops through the woods,” he said. “I feel like I’m watching a horror movie.”
“Then maybe we shouldn’t be watching it,” Tommy said. But he couldn’t pull himself away from it any more than his twin. They watched in amazement as the events unfolded before them.
“Thank God we’re in here, safe,” Trevor murmured.
“I second that,” Tommy quietly agreed. Their mother was too involved in the action to notice they were standing inside the door. Tommy glanced behind him to make sure Trisha was okay. She wasn’t in her chair. “Shit!”
“What, bro?” Trevor said as he shoved his brother.
“Trish isn’t there.”
“Then go find her,” Trevor barked.
Tommy turned and ran through the office toward Janet’s desk. He was relieved to see Trish eating pizza and gabbing with Janet, oblivious to the drama going on all around her. When he felt confident that she was safe, he returned to his brother’s side.
“What did I miss?” he said as he leaned toward Trevor. But the moment he looked at the screen he already knew. Something large and fast was gaining on one of the cops.
“Oh, shit!” one of the cops in the room yelled. “He’s not gonna make it!”
“Hush!” Anna growled. Trevor and Tommy grabbed each other’s arms in horror. The shadow reached toward the cop and ripped his jacket. Everyone in the room either jumped or screamed.
“He made it!” Geraldine cried. “Praise Jesus!”
“It isn’t over yet,” Anna said as she raised her hand. She quickly changed the screens so half of them showed the officers and the other half remained on the shadow. Trevor and Tommy stared at the predator. They were pretty sure everyone else in the room was doing the same thing.
“Can you zoom in on that?” Trevor asked his mom.
“Yeah,” she said. Tommy was surprised that she didn’t chastise them for being in the room. He figured she had more pressing issues on her mind. As delicately as she could, Anna began zooming each camera toward the mysterious figure. For a moment the screens were unfocused until they were each at the same distance.
“Who the hell is that?” Rick asked.
“More like what the hell is that?” Trevor corrected. Everyone leaned closer to the screens, as if they could somehow get a better look. Suddenly the shadow stared directly at the group of cameras focused on it. Everyone in the room reacted violently. A few people gasped, Geraldine screamed, Anna pushed her chair back with both feet, and the twins jumped backward and out of the room.
“Jesus Christ!” Damien screamed as he pointed at the screen. The figure had raised a large hand, as if waving at the camera. “Who is that?”
“It’s too dark!” Trevor yelled.
“Here,” Anna said. A few years ago she had small lights installed in the cameras. Although they had excellent night vision capacity, lights would add additional enhancement. She turned on each light as quickly as possible. Slowly, the figure was being revealed.
“Sweet holy God,” Anna gasped.
“What?” several people asked in unison.
“But…how?” she continued.
“What the hell are you talking about, Anna?” Geraldine burst.
In an instant the figure disappeared. Anna tried to find it through the cameras, but it was like it had vanished into thin air. She leaned back in her chair. “That looked like Matthew McMillan!” she said.
“What?” Geraldine shouted. “I thought you said he was helping you? He was just here twenty minutes ago.”
“You don’t understand,” Anna said, shaking her head.
“Obviously, Sheriff,” Rick said.
“Father Matthew is a junior,” Anna said.
“A junior? What’s that?” Damien asked.
“It means his name is the same as his father’s, dumbass,” Trevor laughed.
“But he’s been dead for more than twenty years,” Rick said. “Everyone knows that.”
“No shit,” Anna said. “I was at his funeral. I sat beside Matthew as we watched them bury his father.” She pushed a few buttons and returned to the dimly lit portrait of the shadow.
“He doesn’t look dead there,” Trevor whispered.
As everyone looked at the figure illuminated by the lights of the camera, the sound of gunshots startled them.
“What the hell?” Anna bellowed.
“They’re firing into the woods!” Trevor cried. Anna quickly grabbed her radio.
“Jake, goddammit! Stop shooting!” she bellowed. He cut her off. “Bastard!”
“What a dick,” Trevor said to Tommy, who nodded in agreement.
“It’s not like he hit anything,” Tommy offered. Knowing the insanity had dissipated a bit, the twins walked back and sat down at the table.
“That was totally twisted,” Trevor mumbled. “Is this for real?”
“It’s for real,” Tommy said.
“I’m glad Trish didn’t see that,” he said. “That would have screwed her up even more than she already is.”
Tommy smiled. “That makes three of us.”
“True that.”
* * * * * *
3
Jason Styles called Dr. Bearson from his cell once he got on the road. A professor of Anthropology, Jason had not yet had the pleasure of meeting him. All he knew was that his father was close friends with him and respected him deeply. That was all Jason needed to know.
“Hello?” answered a voice with a heavy accent.
“Dr. Bearson?” Jason said.
“Speaking?”
“This is Jason Styles.”
“Styles,” Professor Bearson repeated.
“Yes, sir. You know my father, Dr. David Styles.”
“Ah, young Jason! Well I haven’t seen you since you were just a boy,” he said, laughing.
“I don’t recall,” Jason said nervously.
“Never you mind, young Jason,” Professor Bearson said. “You were only but a small child.”
“Professor, I have something that my father would like you to see.”
“Jason, please, call me Anish.”
“Anish?” he asked.
“Yes, Jason. It is short for my given name, Anishinabek. It means ‘persons on the right path.’ Tell me, what is it your father would like me to see?”
“Well, it’s some kind of animal tooth, or claw, or bone that has been made into a weapon. He thought you might know what it is.”
“Could you send me a picture of it?” Anish asked.
“Sure, let me pull over and I will take one with my phone.”
“Ah, the wonders of modern technology,” Anish laughed. “Send me the picture. I will look at it and phone you.”
“Anish?”
“Yes?”
“I’m actually in the car right now because I’m driving to see you.”
“Oh, I see,” he said softly. “Your f
ather must be in great need of my assistance.”
“Yes, sir. He is.”
“Forgive me, I must ask. Why is he not phoning me himself?”
“Well, there have been some strange things happening here in Crimson Falls. He is preoccupied trying to figure it out.”
“Interesting. Very interesting.”
“Well, more a tragedy than interesting.”
Silence.
“I don’t mean to offend,” Jason offered, embarrassed. “Someone died a horrible death.”
“And this weapon your father would like me to see, this was what killed the victim?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Here is what must happen. I trust your father a great deal. Take the picture and send it to me. Are you familiar with the town of Myersville?”
“Yes, it’s about halfway between Crimson Falls and the university.”
“Right. We can meet at the McDonald’s off the highway.”
“Oh, sir, you don’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I must.”
“But why? I am already on my way. Certainly you could just phone my father?” Jason was confused.
“I must meet you as quickly as possible. There may not be time enough for you to come to the university.”
“Why? I am already on my way to meet you.”
“Your father once told me that if he ever sent someone to see me, that I must move without haste.”
“Well that’s awfully cryptic,” Jason complained.
“It’s not cryptic at all, my friend.”
“Oh really?”
“No, it is quite simple really.”
Jason tried not to sound annoyed. “And the simplicity would be?”
“I will meet you, then follow you back to Crimson Falls.”
“Then why send the picture?” Jason asked.
“Full of many questions, young man,” Anish laughed.
“Sorry,” Jason said in earnest.
Anish was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice seemed deeper and resonated through the phone.
“I need the picture so I know what tools to bring with me.” Anish hung up the phone. Jason continued his drive and began to look forward to meeting the professor.
* * * * * *
4
Michael Mullins pulled up to the payphone to dust for prints. The Laundromat was small, sitting between the office of an insurance agent and Loaves of Love, a popular deli. Only two cars were in the parking lot. He faced the buildings, looking to his left. Dense bushes and trees glared back at him, representing the edge of the Brickton Estate. He didn’t like being so close to where Acorn Alan had been murdered.
“Shit,” Michael said to himself. He hadn’t expected the streets to be as quiet as they were tonight. He returned to the cruiser to grab the necessary equipment needed to lift fingerprints. As he walked he kept an eye on the trees, thinking that at any moment someone would emerge, bent on killing him. He cursed himself for being afraid.
“Get this done and then get the hell outta here,” he grunted.
As he began dusting, he tried to ignore his discomfort. “Fingers are coated with oil and stuff. Touching a surface causes friction and the perspiration and oil is left behind,” he told himself as he remembered his training. He returned the small brush to its rightful place in the box and took the cellophane tape to lift the prints.
“Michael!” a female voice said loudly.
Michael fell on his behind, screaming as he landed. “Jesus!”
Michael looked around, but no one was there. He listened to the sounds around him. A large woman walked out of the Laundromat with a large pile of clothes in her arm. After a moment he recognized her as Mary Sue Winters, the second grade teacher in town. She caught Michael’s movement from the corner of her eye.
“Hi Michael!” she hollered. She threw the clothes into her trunk and walked toward him. He rose to his feet.
“Hi ya, Mary Sue,” he said, relieved.
“Whatcha doing?” she asked as she surveyed the equipment. “Are you looking for fingerprints?” Worry spread across her face.
“No, no,” he said. She raised an eyebrow. “I mean, yes, I am dusting for prints. But it’s nothing serious,” he lied. “Some kids have been making some prank calls to the station so we’re trying to figure it out.
“Oh, I see,” she said, eying suspiciously. “Well I try to teach them right,” she laughed.
“Indeed!” he smiled.
“Well, I gotta get these clothes home,” she said as she began walking away. “Have a good night, Michael.”
“You too, Mary Sue,” he waved. He was grateful for his brief respite from obsessing about the dead body he had just seen less than an hour ago. He continued lifting the prints and hummed to himself as he worked.
“Michael!” the same female voice roared again. He froze in the middle of removing the cellophane. It came from the same direction as before. This time he realized it was coming from behind the trees. He waited to see if the voice would call to him again. It sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it.
Silence.
He finished lifting the prints, sealing them, and closing the kit as quickly as possible so he could get the hell out of there. The moment the case snapped closed, the voice called to him again.
“Michael, please!” she screamed, desperate.
“Who’s there?” Michael called. He waited, expecting the trees to begin moving or horrible sounds to erupt from the darkness.
Only silence.
“Jesus Christ, Michael! I need you!” she shrieked. He suddenly recognized the voice. It was Sheriff Blackwood.
“Oh, shit, Sheriff!” he cried as he ran toward the edge of the Brickton Estate. Something must have happened when he left for the station to get the fingerprint kit. He hadn’t had the balls to tell his boss that he had forgotten to put it back in his car the previous month. He stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the first group of bushes and trees.
“Anna?” he beckoned. “Anna, are you there?”
“Yes, Michael,” she answered more calmly. “I’m stuck here in these weeds, and I think something was coming toward me. Quick, help me out so we can get the fuck outta here.”
He realized it must have been serious because he had never heard the sheriff say the ‘f word’ before.
He jogged past a few trees and realized he couldn’t see very well. “Shit, Sheriff,” he growled. “I don’t have my flashlight. Turn yours on so I can see where you are. I’m half blind out here,” he laughed. He felt better to be near Anna, but still nervous that something might be on her trail.
“My flashlight died,” she said. “Just follow my voice,” she ordered.
“Okay, you’re getting louder,” he said as he strained to see any shape close by. After several seconds he spotted her. “I see you! Hold on, I’m coming.”
“Excellent!” she replied. “I think I see you. This way! This way!”
Michael slowed down when the shape was no longer where he thought it was. “Damn,” he whispered. “I could have sworn she was right there.” He opened his eyes as widely as he could, thinking somehow he had looked past her. All he saw were trees, rocks, and more trees.
“Anna, talk to me,” he pleaded. “I can’t see you anymore.” He waited and listened.
Silence.
“Anna?” he repeated.
More silence. And it was becoming deafening.
“Anna, Jesus Christ, talk to me!” he begged. Leaves began rustling behind him. He heard small twigs snapping under the weight of whoever was walking. The noises became louder.
“Anna?” he repeated one last time.
Nothing.
Whoever was approaching now stood directly behind him. The sound of grotesque, raspy breathing came from nowhere. He heard the sound of something sharp being scraped against a rock. Michael began to whimper softly. He didn’t want to turn around, but he didn’t know what else to do. Slowly, he turned to face wh
at Trevor had called the ‘shadow.’
Michael opened his eyes. All he saw were trees and a large rock. Twigs snapped behind him and the breathing began again. He spun around as quickly as he could, but nothing was there.
“Michael!” Anna’s voice called out again.
“WHAT THE HELL!” Michael screamed at the top of his lungs as he looked at the sky, his arms raised in terror and anger. When he looked straight ahead again, it was there – and it was no shadow. Michael fell to the ground as he screamed, scrambling backwards to crawl to safety. The shadow was tall; he figured it was a large man. But what he could see of his face was gray, hollow, and his eyes were deeply sunken. Although it was dark, Michael could tell that his teeth were quite large. He was too confused to be afraid.
“Anna!” he yelled. “Anna, help me! Help me!”
“Michael!” the man-like thing in front of his yelled. But the voice was the same as the one Michael had been hearing. It was the voice of Anna.
“Michael!” the shadow screamed again. This time it had a mocking tone to it. It put its hand up, as if waving, then leaped toward him. It moved so quickly that he didn’t have time to even raise his hands to defend himself. The monster slapped him across the face, leaving Michael to wonder if his cheekbone had been fractured.
“Oh, please Jesus!” Michael prayed as he screamed in shock. “Someone help me!”
This time the shadow lunged forward and bit his neck. Gurgling sounds filled the air, but Michael could barely hear them. He struggled to breathe. The last image he saw was of the shadow’s mouth, dripping with blood, moving toward his eyes.
Then everything went black.
* * * * * *
5
“Copy that, Sheriff,” Jake said into his radio. His heart was still racing from running and shooting.
“Stay out of the woods,” Anna ordered.
“Yeah, Sheriff, that shouldn’t be a problem,” he mumbled as he clenched his teeth. Christ, how stupid does she think I am? he thought to himself.
“Get into the house and see what you can find,” she continued. “I think it’s best that we stay inside until sunrise.”
“You want us to stay in the old Brickton house?” Jake shrugged at his radio.
