Troop of Shadows

by Nicki Huntsman Smith

  “So I have the job?”

  “You have the job.”

  “Smart decision. Now, here’s how we’re going to do it.”

  Steven raised an eyebrow but kept his mouth shut until he’d heard her plan. Afterward, he knew he’d been wise to do so.

  Two hours later, Jeff, who was sharing his dad’s bed so the others could use his room, whispered to his father, “She looks like Aunt Julia. Don’t you think?”

  “Yes, she does. She looks exactly like your Aunt Julia when she was young. It’s crazy, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, a little, I guess,” Jeffrey said, drowsy voiced. Soon he felt his son breathing the regular pattern of sleep.

  Steven remained wakeful. He knew it wasn’t as crazy as it should have been. He contemplated the odds of this happening, but soon gave up trying to figure them out. Maddie’s alleged psychic ability was tough enough to swallow, so to speculate whether Dani might be the baby Julia gave up for adoption was an immense stretch. Even more incredible — if it were true — was the timing of her arrival: his sister would be here any day.

  Believing in that kind of serendipity would require a Grand Canyon leap of faith.

  ###

  Pablo’s Journal, Entry #392

  Strangeness abounds. We are not in Oklahoma, but rather nestled in a Kansas farmhouse which boasts running water, flushing toilets, and an electrified fence.

  I may have died and gone to heaven.

  Between Curly Sue and Molly the yellow lab, Bruno has acquired his own doggy harem. I don’t think he’s ever been so happy.

  I can’t explain Maddie’s newfound psychic ability other than to surmise that the bullet, like a ballistic switch, flipped it on. Perhaps she always had it. Hell, maybe we all have it; a latent talent which most are unable or unwilling to access. There’s no denying she heard the thoughts of others and saw through their eyes...that was confirmed this evening. She has only experienced the one episode, and I hope it was the last.

  The heinous act she witnessed, seemingly through the eyes of Steven, our host, has changed her on a fundamental level. She’s still my Maddie in most ways, but I have the sense that now a part of her belongs to everyone, and I will have to share her even more than I did with the addition of Amelia and Jessie. This vexes me.

  Yes, I know that makes me a selfish prick. So be it. And if I die tomorrow in this showdown, at least she is sleeping next to me tonight...my battered and beautiful enchanting mystic angel.

  Next to Pablo, Maddie slept. And dreamed.

  A troop of shadows moving with the sun. Alfred smiled and patted her knee. Shift. Now the old man with the pristine dentures lay in his motel bed. The chest didn’t move. Didn’t rise and fall. She stood next to him. Sadness. Nobody should die alone. The ancient eyelids fluttered open, but she wasn’t afraid.

  Maddie, do you know? Do you feel the life inside you?

  Surprise.

  Fragile like a dandelion in the wind. Be cautious for yourself and the baby, my dear. There are many to fear, and one most of all.

  Surprise and now unease.

  Malicious malevolent malignant, this one. He would rule the world or see it burn. Soon you will see him clearly and you will recognize him for the destroyer he is. Take care.

  She nodded in the dream as well as in the bed. The grandfather hand squeezed hers, then the pale eyes closed.

  Don’t go.

  I must, child. The world belongs to those who come the last.

  Maddie moaned in her sleep. Pablo set his notebook on the bedside table, blew out the candle, and wrapped a protective arm around her waist. He was snoring within seconds.

  Chapter 46

  Western Kansas

  Logan wasn’t sleeping. He’d been working on the plan in his mind all day. He would wait for Julia and the Thoozy person to go to bed, then after he’d waited long enough for them to fall asleep, he would press a pillow against the old man’s face and keep it there until there was no breathing or moving. He had thought carefully about all the necessary steps. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to do it — he actually found the idea exciting — but because it was important that the death looked...what was the word?

  Natural, the Bad Thoughts replied.

  Yes, that’s it. His death must look natural, which meant no squeezing the skinny black throat until the eyes bulged. Holding the pillow over the wrinkled face was the best way. It would appear that he’d just passed away in his sleep. Since he was very old, Julia wouldn’t question it and he would be rid of the pesky man for good.

  It was time. They’d gone to bed more than an hour earlier in three separate rooms at the motel. The doors had all been locked when they’d arrived, but they’d found the keys in the office. What Julia didn’t know was that Logan had spotted a duplicate set under the counter. She had been so happy the motel used the old-key-system instead of an electronic-key-system, that she hadn’t noticed them.

  It would make his plan even easier.

  He slipped out of his room. He was sure that he couldn’t be seen by anything or anyone that didn’t have magic, even though the stars and the moon lit up the parking lot. The bonfire was just a pile of wet ash and black wood now. Julia was impressed that he’d thought of pouring water on it before they went to bed.

  He was quiet-as-a-mouse as he entered the motel office and snatched the key labeled with the number 103. That was the Thoozy person’s room. For a long minute, he considered the one marked 102. He lifted it from the hook and brushed his thumb across the numbers.

  Her magic is weakest when she’s sleeping, the Bad Thoughts said.

  Logan stared at the key. Finally, he put it back on the hook under the counter.

  As he tiptoed past his room and then Julia’s, he pretended he was one of those burglars in the cartoons. He imagined himself as a black shadow with a mask where just the white part of his eyes showed through, his back hunched and his feet tiptoeing in careful, high steps.

  The thought made him giggle.

  Quiet! the Bad Thoughts said.

  He pressed his hand against his mouth and nose. No more giggling.

  The key slid into the doorknob without any noise. His tennis shoes made no sound on the carpet. A moment later he stood next to the old man’s bed. A bit of starlight came through the curtains, reflecting off the black skin and the closed eyelids.

  He reached for the pillow on the other bed. When he turned back, he could see white eyeballs in the dark.

  “You certain you want to do this?” The voice was low and not even sleepy sounding. Had he been playing possum?

  Logan grinned. Nodded. Then sprang.

  Chapter 47

  Liberty, Kansas

  “What happens if they don’t take her?” Jeffrey whispered to his father. They both peered through binoculars from a withered hayfield a hundred yards from the roadblock east of Hays.

  The red-haired man, Fergus, answered before Steven could. “If the Honey Badger wants to be taken, she will be,” he said with an affectionate smile. He was using a pair of field glasses that he’d pulled from an inner pocket of the oversized Army jacket he wore.

  Steven lowered his binoculars and studied the small man, who studied him right back. “You seem confident of her abilities.”

  “That’s because I am. I’ve seen her in action. I don’t know what’s more impressive: the big brain, the physical prowess, or the perfect backside.”

  Steven frowned, considered a response, and then lifted the binoculars again. “It seems you’re right. They’re handcuffing her now. Looks like they’re using tie wraps.”

  Fergus smiled.

  ###

  “What kind of medieval shit-hole operation you running here, semen breath?” Dani said to her captor as she scanned her surroundings.

  The stocks Steven had described were positioned in the section of I40 that would be considered Main Street during its short migration through the small town. Rough men lounged against storefronts or sat on benches, eyeballing th
e new merchandise as she pretended to stumble along the sidewalk. All carried weapons of some kind: rifles, a few handguns, and knives. Lots of knives.

  The two women she saw were scrawny and grimy, and engaged in physical labor. One pushed a wheelbarrow full of canned goods and the other lugged two buckets of water on an archaic wooden shoulder yoke — a scene right out of the Old West. The woman weighed less than a hundred pounds and struggled with the cumbersome weight.

  You lazy fucks. Payback is a bitch with sharp teeth and razor claws. And she’s right around the corner.

  Dani smiled.

  “Shut up. And what the fuck you smiling about, cunt?” the farm boy next to her asked. He couldn’t have been more than eighteen or nineteen, but he stood well over six feet — a meat sack filled with equal portions of muscle and baby fat. He smelled of stale sweat and fresh shit.

  “I’m smiling because I know how little your dick is. Guys like you with tiny hands and blubbery bellies always have little dicks.”

  When he backhanded her, she didn’t have to pretend to fall.

  “Get up, bitch. I’ll show you how big my dick is later. It’ll be great too. I’ll make sure to stick it in both holes so you can feel just how big it is.”

  She spat blood onto the concrete, then stood. She faced the man-boy, stared unblinkingly into his close-set eyes and said, “I bet you like sticking your Vienna sausage up hairy asses. Bet you’ve had plenty of practice fucking your farmer boyfriends for years.”

  The meaty hand raised to strike again, but a voice halted it in midair.

  “Enough, Jacob. She’s just trying to rile you up.”

  The voice belonged to a man who was likely her captor’s father. He wore the flannel shirt and Levi’s typical of these Midwesterners; had the same washed-out blond hair and ruddy face as his son, but there wasn’t an ounce of fat on this one. With his Aryan features and wintry smile, a swastika on his chest would have looked more natural than the plaid. When Dani gazed into the glacier-blue eyes, what she saw there made her bravado slip.

  “You’ll get your revenge soon enough,” the man spoke to his son but held Dani’s gaze. “In the meantime, we don’t want to damage the wares.”

  The final words, meant to demean, had the opposite effect. She returned the chilly smile but kept her mouth closed. She had a job to do.

  Jacob shoved her through the entrance of the Best Western. Immediately, her nostrils were assaulted by the pungent tang of urine and feces mingling with the unmistakable musk of sex. She felt the bile rise in her throat. Several more creeps sprawled on the chairs in the hotel lobby. She ignored their catcalls and sophomoric innuendos.

  “Up the stairs, bitch.”

  The man-boy was still pissed, which was what she wanted — but she needed to keep it at a slow simmer. It wasn’t time to let him boil over. Yet.

  As she was hustled along the upstairs corridor, she stole quick peeks into the rooms she passed. The doors had been removed so the shackled women could be easily viewed, like trussed up poultry at a Thai market.

  He pulled her to a rough stop at one that wasn’t occupied. “This is yours. Your very own home with a bathroom and everything, except there ain’t no running water so you’ll have to shit and piss in that bucket.” He indicated a plastic wastebasket with a Best Western logo on the side.

  It was already half full.

  He chuckled when she retched. “Yeah, maid service ain’t too reliable. You’ll get used to the smell. All the others have.”

  “Fuck you,” she managed.

  “That all you got?” he laughed. “Ain’t so cocky now, are you?”

  He shoved her down onto the soiled bedspread, looped a length of chain around her waist, then secured it with a padlock. The other end was attached to a metal eyebolt in the wall. He noticed her glance.

  “Don’t get any ideas. It’s screwed into the stud.”

  She kept her face expressionless and stared straight ahead.

  “Yeah, nice and quiet now, ain’t ya? That’s what always happens. Stupid bitches. Ain’t good for nothing but fucking and sucking.”

  She blinked, clenched her jaw, and said nothing.

  He grunted, bored now that he wasn’t getting a reaction. “Dumb Dolores will be here in a few minutes. She’s the maid. She’ll give you the lowdown on how things work. Be good and you’ll eat. Be bad and you won’t. Plain and simple.”

  He grabbed her face in one of his pudgy hands, pressed his mouth against hers, and stuck his fat tongue between her lips. At the moment she thought she might vomit, he pulled away.

  “I’ll see you later, hot stuff,” he said with a painful squeeze of her breast.

  Finally he was gone. She spat on the stained carpet.

  The situation was worse than she’d expected, but her plan should still work. They hadn’t found the handcuff key in the heel of her boot, but she wouldn’t need it. When the time was right, she would have no problem with the zip tie that bound her hands in the front. It wasn’t even the heavy-duty type...idiots. They had discovered a switchblade during the pat-down at the roadblock, as she’d planned. It was a decoy. The Leatherman multi-tool folding knife was concealed inside her, along with a Bic lighter. And they were becoming more uncomfortable by the second. Should she extract them now, or wait for the servant girl? She decided she couldn’t bear another second of the discomfort, despite the Vaseline-coated cotton gauze the items had been wrapped with. The package felt like the Sword of Damocles inside her vagina.

  She laid back on the bed and wriggled her pants down to her knees, alert for footsteps in the corridor. She tugged on the string that had been tied to the bundle. The relief was instant, but her nether regions ached like the worst case of PMS cramps in the history of PMS cramps. She wondered if she’d done some permanent damage to her uterus.

  Oh well. Didn’t want rug rats anyway.

  She unwrapped the gauze and slid the Leatherman and the Bic into her boot. The next moment, a girl appeared in the doorway.

  Dani couldn’t stop the reflexive gasp. She thought of an old X-Files rerun where Mulder and Scully investigated a family that had been inbreeding for generations. There was nothing symmetrical about the features — not the eyes, the mouth, nor the taxicab door ears. One of the emaciated arms ended in fleshy crablike pinchers. The other hand held an empty bucket with its thumb and pinky, which were the only fingers present.

  The next moment, the girl stood next to her.

  She moves like a ghost, Dani thought, then was nearly overcome by the stench coming off the poor creature in front of her.

  “What’s your name?” The voice was the opposite of what she might have expected to emerge from the hygiene-challenged mouth. Lilting, melodious.

  “I’m Dani. You must be Dolores.”

  “Dumb Dolores. That’s my name.”

  Dani frowned. “I bet that wasn’t your idea.”

  “It’s because I’m not smart.” A shrug of the uneven shoulders.

  She thought for a moment before answering. “Well, I’m just going to call you Dolores. I don’t like ugly words like ‘dumb.’”

  The girl shrugged again.

  “You’re the one who explains things here?”

  “Yep. It’s bad. You won’t like it. It’s just the way it is, though. The men will come and stick their thing in you. Sometimes they want to put it in your mouth. Don’t bite when they do that or they’ll kill you. Doesn’t matter how pretty you are. If you’re good, I’ll bring you a plate of food in the morning and at night. If you’re not good, I don’t bring any food.”

  “Do you determine whether I’m good or not good?”

  The girl snorted. “No, silly. Jacob tells me. He’s my boss. His daddy runs the town.”

  “Yeah, I figured it might be something like that.”

  “Every day or two I’ll empty your bucket.” She nodded toward the wastebasket. “I’ll bring you one roll of toilet paper every Sunday. It has to last a week, okay?”

  Dani sm
irked.

  The girl paused, studying her face. “You don’t want to mess around with these guys. They will hurt you or kill you. I mean it.”

  “If they’re such bad guys, why do you work for them?”

  Another shrug. “What else would I do? Least I have my own room. Never had my own room before. Pa made me sleep in the woodshed.”

  Something shifted inside her. She imagined the horror this girl’s life must have been before. Hell, Chicxulub was probably a blessing for her. Fewer people around to gawk at her appearance. The thought prompted an idea; a minor change to her plan. In exchange for her help, Dani could offer a life that didn’t include emptying shit buckets in a sex slave bordello.

  She reached out and took the pincher hand in her own. The uneven eyes flew wide, but the girl didn’t pull away.

  “What if I could offer you a better life than this? A life with your own room, where people would be kind to you, and where you would have clean clothes to wear. Would you like that?”

  Another snort. “Nobody’s ever touched my hand before. I don’t know what you mean about people being kind to me. Jacob gave me this job, and I get enough to eat most of the time.”

  Dani sighed. “Yes, but you could have a better job and more to eat. People would be nice to you. They wouldn’t call you dumb. They would just call you Dolores, like I do.”

  She gave the hand a squeeze. The help of this girl would increase their chance of success. If she didn’t get it, her mission would be a hell of a lot harder and more people could get hurt.

  The girl squinted, then tilted her head. Scrutinized Dani’s face for another long minute. Glanced at the doorway. Looked at the window where the drapes had been drawn against the sunlight. Studied Dani’s face again.

  “At this new place, what would my job be?”

  Dani smiled.

  ###