When they finally climbed down, the sun had fully set and darkness surrounded them. The waxing moon cast its peaceful glow over the hillside below them. Bethanie followed Shadow down the pole and into the barn to finally clean her arms and legs now that she was assured her owls were safe. She froze as lights overhead suddenly came on as soon as they stepped foot inside the large sliding double doors of the barn.
“Motion detectors,” Shadow assured her when he noticed her hesitation.
“No one else is in here?”
“Just you and me,” Shadow drawled, feeling his annoyance at her fear of him returning.
That's not very reassuring, she thought to herself as she followed this intimidatingly large man into this remote building. Inside, the place looked more like an office in the front than a barn. “What do you do here?” Bethanie asked him, wanting to take her mind off her trepidation at being alone with any man she did not know well, let along this man. This remote barn was the last place she should be with a man like him. Who did he think he was anyway? Dressing the way he did in fitted blue jeans and cowboy boots, his hair longer than her own, a strand of turquoise around his throat. How ridiculous for a grown man. And why did it irritate her so much?
Bethanie gasped, causing Shadow to stop abruptly n front of her and sending her colliding into the broad expanse of his back. There was something along the back wall, in a dark corner of the barn, propped up like it was just resting comfortably. Confusion, followed quickly by panic, registered in her brain. She screamed as she watched blood flow out from it and pool on the floor around it.
The ear-piercing sound of screaming hit Shadow before he saw anything. He spun around, following her trail of vision to the body or bodies she stared at. Quickly, he pressed a hand against her chest, pushing her backwards behind him. “Stay here,” he barked at a pale-looking Bethanie.
At first glance, he thought it was another dead animal. And he hoped it would turn out to be just a prank someone was playing on him. It would not be the first time. Once, a scarecrow from the field had been placed inside the barn to try to scare him. The thing had been propped up in his desk chair when he found it. But his gut told him this was no prank. Upon closer examination, he could see that the two bodies were bleeding. He turned and quickly ushered Bethanie outside. There were two young women missing from campus, he thought dismally, and their bodies had just turned up inside his barn minus their skin.
A million thoughts ran through Shadow's mind as he escorted Bethanie home to her dormitory. He had to get her away from here before he did anything else. There was no reason to drag a student into this. He would call the police, and then he would call his friend, Dr. Henry Bord, the president of Ferra College. In a situation like this, the usual protocol of maintaining the school's privacy was of secondary importance to the lives of those two girls.
“Are you a hunter?” Bethanie said, her voice barely above a whisper as she stumbled along behind Shadow, weakened by the aftereffects of adrenaline. She paused and looked up at him.
Shadow stopped mid-stride, looking down at her in confusion.
“It's just that, I had a neighbor once, when I was a little girl,” she said, her voice sounding distant as if she were lost in a memory. “He used to string up deer carcasses in the oak tree in his backyard. Bled them. Were those deer we saw in your barn?”
He could see now, her confusion because he too had thought the same thing. “Honey,” he said softly, not wanting to frighten her more and hating to dash her hope that it was something less grim than what they had actually seen.
Astonishment filled her at his choice of words, no one had ever called her honey before, and it secretly felt delicious.
“Those were not deer,” he said.
“Then,” Bethanie asked hesitating, “what was it?” unsure that she wanted to hear the answer now that the words were out of her mouth.
The lines of Shadow's mouth flattened out of frustration. It was amazing how the mind tried to protect itself from things it did not want to see. And when it had no reference for something, it filled in the details, sometimes imaginary ones. “For now, let's just say that I have some important phone calls to make.” He shook his head, looking down at the ground as he resumed walking with Bethanie keeping pace beside him as they crossed the grassy quad towards her building.
Bethanie kept her mouth shut for the rest of the walk to her door. As they walked, passing students along the way, she became more and more aware of the man walking next to her. His reputation preceded him wherever he went. Young men looked up to him, and young women looked him up and down.
Even she had no idea of the possibility that he could be dangerous, the thought had never crossed her mind, until now. She had never really liked him, but now that she had seen whatever it was she had seen inside that barn, the though occurred to her that maybe he was the one responsible. That would explain their hasty departure. But that did not explain why, if he did it, he had let her see it. Frustrated, she blew at a wisp of hair that had fallen into her eye.
Add to all this, that the last thing she wanted was any reason for the other girls in her dorm to notice her. And if they saw her being escorting home by him, they might think that she had become his latest conquest and start talking. “This is fine,” she said, abruptly stopping on the front walk. “I can make it the rest of the way on my own. Thanks.”
Shadow narrowed his eyes on her. He stood, hovering a foot taller than she, one thumb dangling from the belt loop of his blue jeans, and grinned. She was the virgin he had thought she was.
His grin, along with the intoxicating scent of sandalwood coming off of his sizeable body in waves, assaulted her senses to the point that she could not think anymore. She dared look up to his full height, noting that his nose had the similar shape of a hawk's beak. And together with his square jaw, he had what she considered a very nerve-racking presence. Then in his steel-gray eyes, she saw, was that smugness? she thought. Suddenly, she had the urge to run, but instead, she took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, so as not to give him the pleasure of knowing that he frightened her and said, “Goodnight.”
He nodded slowly and turned to go, all the while itching to know what made her so trepidatious with him.
Her relief was instantaneous listening to his boots scuffing the sidewalk as he walked away. Swagger away was more like it. Letting go of the breath she had not realized she was still holding, she slowly and deliberately filled her lungs again to relax, the way her therapist had taught her. It cleared her mind enough that she could think to put the key in the lock. After what she had just been through her nerves were shot, despite the threat of the skinwalker having passed. Panic seized her, filling her with dread as if it were all just occurring.
Suddenly, she wanted to call Shadow back. But even if he was not responsible for whatever was inside his barn, she was frightened of him in an entirely different but possibly more tolerable way. Beads of sweat appeared on her upper lip, she turned to make her way into the cool, air-conditioned hallway of her building. Her mind was racing so, that she passed other girls in the hall without actually seeing them.
All alone in her room, she splashed water on her face and neck to cool herself and picked up the bar of soap, scrubbing the parts of her arm that had been smeared with blood. She took a wet washcloth to bed and lying down, pressed it to her forehead. The cool sheets of her twin bed were a welcome relief to the heat of fear that had filled her body. She closed her eyes and tried the visualizations her therapist had given her that had worked for her in the past when she needed to calm down. But it was not working this time. It seemed something was different. The threat was too real, too close, too much.
She squeezed her eyes shut, but in her mind, she saw only the blood on her arm. Before she knew it, she was in the backyard of her childhood home in West Virginia, all alone and in the dark. The policeman's flashlight shined in her face, blinding her. She shaded her eyes from it. Then it shone down at her hands. She look
ed. And to her horror, she was covered in blood.
Bethanie forced herself to open her eyes, her body convulsing now from too much adrenaline. Her counselor had warned her that her memory could come back suddenly or in bits and pieces. When a person suffered a trauma as she had, the mind needed to protect itself, allowing slivers of information to be processed at a time. Part of her wished that he were wrong, that what she was seeing was not actual memories, but the imagination of a young woman who had lost her father. But the rest of her knew that he was right, she was trying to remember what she could not. She just hoped she could survive it.
On Monday morning, Shadow knocked firmly on the paneled oak door that separated the large, plushly carpeted waiting room from the administrator's office. The plaque on the door read, Dr. Edward Bord, President Ferra College, a man who had dedicated his life to running the school of which he was so obviously proud.
Despite the plush surroundings of the office, no amount of money could ever entice Shadow to spend his days doing what President Bord did for a living. Surrounded by potted Ficus trees, skylights, and indoor waterfalls was not his idea of a life. Even with his Master's Degree in Applied Science of Horticultural and Landscape Management, he would never consider it, not that he had ever been asked. The administration accepted him, even respected him, but they all knew that he would never be one of them, despite his tenure. The only roof he ever wanted over his head was a barn. Outside was where he belonged, much in the same way he had spent his life growing up, outside of his own people's tribe. He had been outside always looking in, never feeling a part. With blond hair and blue eyes, most kids his age had too hard of a time accepting him as one of their own.
The taunts of the school children on the playground still rang in his head. Whitebread, they had called him. Shadow remembered the horror of growing up different than the rest as if it had happened yesterday. But nothing had prepared him for the hatred he would encounter from classmates in high school. One day, he would find a Native woman to share his life, and that would heal the divide between himself and his tribe. He had found her once and lost her, but he had still not given up hope. He could still see her face.
Shadow, let's go, Maria said impatiently. I'm going to be late for my next class. And Mr. Wimpole gives me detention when I'm late.
I didn't leave my locker standing wide open, Maria, Shadow said.
Well maybe you did, and you just forgot.
No. Someone's been in it, Shadow said. He rummaged around to see if he could tell what had been taken. Nothing was there but Calculus and Physics textbooks inside. No one would want to steal those.
Shadow, let's go, Maria whined as the last bell rang. Great! Thanks a lot. Now I'm late.
Shadow pulled out the books he needed for his next class and closed his locker, spinning the combination lock. He turned away from the row of lockers beside the stairs. And as he did, noticed someone wearing a letterman's jacket, standing off in the shadows of the stairwell. He would have sworn that whoever it was, was smiling at him, a wicked smile. He tried to shrug off the feeling of dread that came over him as he ran to catch up with his girlfriend who was leaving him behind.
Shadow, I need to speak with you. Now.
Shadow left his English Literature books sitting on top of the wooden desk that barely accommodated his large frame and left his classroom to follow the principal into the hallway. Since the man hardly ever ventured away from his office, Shadow knew something was very wrong.
A uniformed police officer waited for them out in the hall.
Shadow's heart began to race. Questions swirled through his head. He followed the two men to his locker where another officer stood guard. The locker was open. His padlock had been cut. It lay on the floor along with the contents. Everything he recognized, except one thing. One of the officers picked it up and held up to Shadow.
Do you recognize this? the policeman asked him, holding a clear plastic baggie full of white powder.
The walls closed in around him. He was placed him in handcuffs. The drive to the police station was a blur.
He had never been the same man again after that day.
After enduring a humiliating expulsion from school, he was formally acquitted of any wrongdoing. But by this time, he had missed so many days of school that irreparable damage had been done to his attendance record. And even though he begged his mother not to do it, she pulled enough strings to guarantee he be allowed to walk with his class on graduation day. But, by this time, Shadow had ceased caring whether he graduated or not. He may as well have not been there that day. Not a single one of his classmates ever spoke to him again. Especially Maria.
The door to the school president's office swung open., interrupting Shadow’s grim thoughts. President Bord, a man with the athletic build of a much younger man, greeted him, standing nearly eye to eye with Shadow's six foot four inches.
Shadow immediately schooled his features, stepping inside the door as it was held open for him. He had called President Bord on the telephone at his home last night after speaking with the police. During their conversation, he had asked Shadow to meet him in his office the following morning. The police had questioned Shadow the previous night, leaving Bethanie's name out of the incident entirely since no young college student deserved having to deal with something like this, and he assumed President Bord had spent his evening in the same manner.
“Mr. Walker, please come in,” the older man said, holding his arm open wide. “Make yourself comfortable.” He cleared his throat as he took a seat behind his massive wooden desk. “As you well know, this situation has gone from pranksters killing hamsters in dorm rooms to suspected murder,” President Bord stopped, shaking his head. “I don't have to tell you what something like this can do to the reputation of a school. I've been taking phone calls from trustees whom, based on how quickly the information spread, seem to have been listening to police scanners last night.” He looked like a man who had not slept at all in the past twenty-four hours. “The board and I have taken a vote. The frequency and severity of attacks have worried administration for some days now, but this is now out of our hands. So, we've decided to follow the advice of Sheriff Wilson who I believe you spoke with last night as well.”
Shadow nodded.
“We're shutting the school down effective immediately until the police have caught this bastard. I can't single-handedly protect these kids from a madman. And that's where you come in. I need your help, Mr. Walker.”
Chapter 3
All students were to be packed and gone from campus that by noon. A mass exodus had taken place, and Shadow had been the one to oversee it all. At five o'clock, President Bord sent him out to scour the campus for any stragglers who had not left since the campus had to be completely evacuated of students.
Expecting no one to still be inside the dormitories, Shadow swung open the room doors in each hallway he came to, one by one, without bothering to knock as an eerie silence enveloped him going deeper and deeper into each building. Rooms had been stripped naked, with a few exceptions inside the indistinguishable rooms where tattered posters still adorned the walls, bunk beds and desks were left behind. Students had been instructed to treat this unplanned break like they would any vacation from school. Which meant they were to take all personal belongings, things that they cared anything about, and leave the rest. They were not exactly moving out, but no one in the administration could say for certain when they would be returning. Even faculty and staff had been allowed to leave. Shadow being one of the few who stayed behind since his home was just across the lake, a short distance as the crow flies, and a mere mile driving from campus. Besides, his responsibilities went far past just teaching classes; he had livestock and fields depending upon him. He would continue doing his job nicely from home, just as he always did.
By late afternoon, Shadow reached room number 2013 of the Horus Building. Surprised to hear voices coming from inside, he hastily swung open the door only to find an obviously
forgotten television set blaring. Silencing the TV, he heard movement behind him and swung around. The owl girl sat on the carpeted floor, her knees tucked beneath her chin, staring up at him, a startled look on her heart-shaped face.
A stunning pair of cornflower blue eyes, looked up at him, big and round. Her cheeks were flushed as if she were under some type of silent strain. Her breathing was rapid and her pupils dilated, as if fearing for her very life. But there was no threat in the small dormitory room, nothing visible that was. Shadow knew the telltale signs of panic when he saw them. Anxiety attacks had a way of sneaking up on their victims when they least expected it. And did so with no rhyme or reason. But in this case, he speculated, it was due more to the fact that she had been hiding and had been found than any genuine case of panic.
Slowly, he crossed his arms in front of his chest, muscles used to manual labor, bulging from his biceps. He stepped closer, trying to discover her purpose in hiding when he found that up close, she was even more beautiful than he had realized. Seeing her only from a distance in the fields for the past two years since she had taken his class, his imagination had drawn a picture of its own. But the reality of what she had become was much more beautiful, artistic even than his own mind had conjured. Her breasts were full and high on her chest. The highlights that the sun had put into her hair were a deeper auburn. The color was high in her cheeks, and her heart-shaped face, matching that of her beloved barn owls, peered up at him. The bridge of her short nose had a slight bump above a dusting of freckles, most likely due to the number of times he had observed her outside without a hat. Then his gaze traveled down a pair of shapely, jeans-clad legs above a pair of tennis shoes that, he noted with disgust, had seen better days and were worn through at the souls, badly in need of being replaced. And her jeans, much like her shoes, were also tattered and nearly worn out.
Shadow Walker Page 3
