by Paul Seiple
“I’m fine,” Joe said.
“Maybe so, but we can’t take a chance,” Noah said.
A slow burn started in Joe’s gut. It intensified until it felt as though he were burning alive from the inside.
You will not tell me what to do, you son of a bitch, Joe thought. He clenched his fist. The black lines on his forearm pulsated from the tension in his muscles.
“You should probably quarantine too,” Noah said to the EMT.
“Quarantine? Fuck you for not warning me, there could be a contagious virus,” the EMT said.
“Stay calm,” Burt said. “Let’s just all go to the hospital and sort this out.”
“Don’t touch Joe,” Noah said. “Or…?”
“Adam,” Burt said. “His name is Adam.” He pointed to the EMT.
I’d like to touch you, Noah. In fact, I’d like to rip your fucking throat out through your mouth, Joe thought.
Noah stopped by the precinct before heading to the hospital. He didn’t believe in the supernatural, but these events were becoming harder to find roots in reality. He noticed a missed call on his phone.
JAIME WYNN
He tapped his phone to call her back. A phone ringing drew his attention. Jaime walked into the office.
“Thank God, you’re OK,” Jaime said.
“Yeah, about that. I think you may be onto something with those black marks on the arms,” Noah said.
“Do you have them?” Jaime asked.
Noah answered her by rolling up his sleeve. She thanked God again.
“Does Cobb have them?” Jaime asked.
“He did… before he died.”
“What happened?" Jaime asked.
“Cobb was acting really strange when I interviewed him. At one point, he lunged at me and the guard tackled him. Cobb seemed to die as soon as he hit the floor.”
“And you saw the black marks on his arm?” Jaime asked.
“Briefly. He hid his arm when I noticed them. But the scary thing is…” Noah hesitated. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but those marks transferred to the guard after Cobb died,” Noah said.
“So they do spread?”
“Joe has them now,” Noah said. “I was getting ready to go to the hospital to see him.”
“Oh shit. My dad is at the hospital visiting the men Cobb attacked,” Jaime said.
“Come on, ride with me,” Noah said.
Seventeen
Debbie heard “Tubular Bells” but didn’t put it together that her phone was ringing. She hated the phone, and usually the ringing signaled something dark was coming.
“It’s your phone,” Lanky said without looking up from the Derek Gallagher book he was reading.
“You would think I would know that.” Debbie rushed to the foyer and grabbed her phone off a small table Don used to sort his mail. REMI flashed across the screen in white letters.
“Hey, sorry, I couldn’t find my phone,” Debbie said.
“Thank goodness. I didn’t think I could get you, either,” Remi said.
“Had you tried to call before? I don’t keep my phone near me,” Debbie said.
“No, not you. I’ve been trying to get in touch with Don and Mason for an hour. Their phones ring twice, and then it’s just a fast busy signal."
“Both of their phones?” Debbie asked.
“Yep. It’s like it’s off the hook, but it’s a cell. I had no problem contacting you,” Remi said. “Have you ever heard of anything like this?”
“They’re in Cleveland. I suppose there could be a cellular outage,” Debbie said. “Why are you trying to get in touch with them?”
“I went to see Sara Tate. She’s been seeing a strange shadow for a few weeks, but it never tried to interact with her or harm her,” Remi said. “I asked Sara to contact the shadow while I was there. Things got weird when it appeared.”
“How weird?” Debbie asked.
“I stuck my arm in the shadow. It was nothing like I’ve ever felt before. I don’t think it was a shadow. It was a portal.” Remi said.
“To where?” Debbie asked.
“I couldn’t get that far. It affected Sara negatively. I pulled back,” Remi said.
“Sara is a special little girl. She has a synchronization with the team. Maybe she was connecting to what is happening in Cleveland,” Debbie said.
“Are they dealing with a shadow demon?” Remi asked.
“I don’t think they know yet. They just got there,” Debbie said.
“Aura warned me that Don and Mason are not prepared for what they will encounter. This is violent, Debbie. It turned Norma Tate against me. I had to summon Aura to calm her down.”
“How did Norma try to attack you?” Debbie asked.
“At first, I thought she was protecting Sara, but her pupils turned shiny black. Black streaks pulsed through her left forearm like tar in her veins,” Remi said.
“It sounds like a shadow demon. Did Aura say what she thought it was?” Debbie asked.
“The only thing she could distinguish was that it’s a dark elemental,” Remi said.
“Give me a little while to look into this. I’ll call you back,” Debbie said.
“What about Don and Mason?” Remi said.
“Keep trying to contact them,” Debbie said.
“So about this trickster demon?” Sam asked. “How do we get rid of it? And how do we make sure Derek doesn’t bring anymore of these things around? Give him a flea bath?”
Derek let out a deep breath and shook his head.
“How do you know Derek is the one who attracted the demon?” Lanky asked between leg lifts. “There’s a compelling argument the Brightside case could be in play here.”
“Come on, you don’t really believe that. It has to be Derek,” Sam said. “Just look at him. Doesn’t he look like a demon sympathizer?”
Lanky paused his physical therapy and eyed Derek, who was reading a magazine and sipping coffee. “I don’t really see it, Sam.”
“Did the accident affect your sight?” Sam said.
“Actually, it did for a while. It’s normal now,” Lanky said.
“And you’re not bitter?” Sam asked.
“Why would I be? I’m alive,” Lanky said.
“You can’t walk without a cane. My cardio is better than yours, and I’m seventy-three,” Sam said. “That demon took your best years.”
Lanky smiled. “My best years are yet to come. Ain’t that right, honey?”
Debbie said nothing as she entered the room. She walked by Lanky with a purpose.
“What’s going on?” Lanky asked.
“I think Don and Mason are dealing with something a little more serious than a run-of-the-mill shadow demon,” Debbie said. She pulled a book from a shelf, licked her finger, and started flipping through the pages.
“Is Kim in danger?” Sam asked.
“There’s always danger with supernatural cases,” Debbie said.
“I don’t understand why she wanted to join your ghost-busting group… no offense… but these demons are real assholes,” Sam said.
Derek looked up from the magazine. “Humans can be assholes too.”
“Enough.” Debbie’s tone warned them not to try her.
“What do you think it is?” Lanky asked.
“Given the info Don sent and from talking to Remi, I’m afraid there is an elemental exposing people’s inner shadows,” Debbie said.
“Inner shadow?” Sam asked.
“Everyone has a part of themselves they hide. It’s something they don’t like about themselves so they bury it deep beneath the surface,” Debbie said.
“Not accepting the inner shadow can cause a lot of unhappiness for some people,” Lanky said.
“I’m surprised you’re not the happiest person I know, Derek. You know how to embrace your inner asshole,” Sam said.
“I…” Derek cut his reply short after Debbie’s glare.
“Don’t test her guys,” Lanky said.
Debbie closed the book and put it back on the shelf. She looked at Sam. “It’s not a trickster demon. It’s a ghost, and it’s attached to you, not Derek.”
“Me?” Sam asked.
“We’ll talk about later,” Debbie said.
Lanky waited for Debbie to leave the room. He smiled at Derek and turned to Sam. “Brightside is calling you.”
“Yeah, well, maybe. I’ll look at the journal again,” Sam said.
Remi sipped her coffee and tapped Don’s number again. She didn’t expect different results, but she had to try. Two rings and then a fast, busy signal. She placed her phone on the table and stared out the window of the coffee shop to people watch. This was something Remi did when she became stressed. She would lose herself in other people’s lives. She watched an older woman cross the street. Remi wondered what life would be like for her in her seventies. She wanted a peaceful retirement from the madness, but didn’t think Darkness would let that happen.
Remi’s phone rang, bringing her back to the table. The words DEBBIE COLLIER flashed in green over the screen.
“Hey, did you find out anything?” Remi asked.
“I did. And you’re right, this is more dangerous than your standard shadow demon. I found an article in a journal from 1922. There was an occurrence in Texas where there was a rash of murders. People who never showed a sign of violence killed people. It was blamed on an elemental only referred to as the True Self,” Debbie said.
“So, it’s not a demon?” Remi asked.
“It’s not a traditional shadow demon, but it’s evil. It looks as though it brings someone’s inner shadow to light,” Debbie said.
“That would explain Norma Tate’s sudden change. She snapped and turned into a completely different person,” Remi said.
“Rage is common in people’s inner shadows,” Debbie said.
“What else did you find?” Remi asked.
“Nothing. Few things scare me,” Debbie said. “The unknown is one of them. There is no other documentation. We don’t know what we’re fighting. It’s never smart to go into battle without knowing the enemy.”
“Don and Mason are in real danger, aren’t they?” Remi said.
“They could be. It looks like from reading the journal the elemental can project from person to person,” Debbie said. “Like a virus.”
“And once it’s in someone?” Remi asked.
“They don’t survive,” Debbie said.
“We have to warn Don before it’s too late,” Remi said.
“How far away are you?” Debbie asked.
“An hour and a half at most,” Remi said.
“Come here. I’ll get tickets to Cleveland,” Debbie said.
Eighteen
“Don McDowell, is that you?”
The words echoed across the hospital parking lot. Terrence looked in one direction. Kim looked in another. Don spun around, trying to pinpoint the voice. Mason didn’t hear it over the podcast he was listening to.
“Over here.”
A pudgy man in a white T-shirt and matching pants waved from near a service entrance to the hospital.
“It is you. Jaime said you’d be coming. I told her I’d believe in when I saw it.”
“Reggie, it’s been at least ten years. How have you been?” Don asked.
“Twelve, I think. Still doing the DNA thing, but I can’t complain. It’s a job,” Reggie said.
Reggie Cook was a research assistant who had worked with forensics for close to fifteen years.
“You look good,” Don said.
Reggie stared at Don’s prosthetic hand. Several emotions crossed his face, all told the same story. He was at a loss for words.
“You should see the other guy,” Don said.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have stared. Jaime told me you had an accident.”
“It’s OK. I only wish I was bionic,” Don said.
“I bet,” Reggie said. “Anyway, come on, I’ll take you to see Tom and Wayne.”
Reggie led Don, Mason, Kim, and Terrence down a long, dingy corridor to a service elevator. He took them to the fourth floor. The door opened. Reggie asked them to wait in a small hall.
“OK, it’s clear. Given the circumstances, there’s a little extra police presence. But you should have about fifteen minutes to talk to Tom. I’m not sure what happened with Wayne. The room he was in is empty,” Reggie said.
“What condition is Tom in?” Kim asked.
Reggie looked at her blankly.
“Sorry, this is Kim, and that’s Terrence. They’re former detectives from North Carolina,” Don said.
“He’s pretty banged up. Apparently, old man Cobb packs a mean punch,” Reggie said.
The black marks spreading over Tom Gardner’s left arm were the first thing Don noticed upon entering the hospital room. Mason’s sight wasn’t nearly as good, but he saw them too.
“Just like in the photos,” Mason said.
“What does that mean?” Terrence asked.
“I’m afraid the entity can transfer from person to person,” Don said.
“You mean like a cold?” Terrence asked.
“A really bad flu,” Don said.
A nurse walked into the room. Stunned, she stepped back into the hallway when she saw the group. Terrence flashed a badge. Don and Mason matched the nurse’s stunned look. Kim ignored the scene and focused on the black marks as they pulsated like marching insects just beneath Tom’s flesh.
“Sorry, I just need to check on Mr. Gardner,” the nurse said.
Don and Mason backed away from the bed.
“We understand. Let us get out of your way,” Terrence said. He pulled Kim back away from the bed.
“How is Mr. Gardner?” Mason asked.
“He took a pretty good beating. Dr. Goldsmith is afraid there may be brain swelling,” the nurse said. “I’ll only be a minute, but if you don’t mind me asking, why are you here?”
“We’re investigating the case,” Terrence said.
The nurse glanced at Don and Mason. She said nothing, but her facial expression didn’t hide the question of “aren’t they too old to be cops?”
“Well, I’m sorry, but Mr. Gardner will not be answering questions anytime soon. He’s been out since arriving at the hospital. It’s odd, the EMTs said he was screaming at them all the way here.”
“He went into a coma when he got to the hospital?” Don asked.
“It appears that way. We fear he has brain damage,” the nurse said.
“What are the black marks on his arm?” Kim asked, coming out of her stupor.
“We’re not sure. Bruises of some sort? I never seen anything like it before, but from the lump on his head, I’d say Mr. Gardner hit the floor pretty hard,” the nurse said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s bruised head to toe.”
“What about the other man involved in the altercation?” Terrence asked.
“Wayne Rusk. He was discharged about twenty minutes ago. He only had minor bruises and abrasions,” the nurse said.
“On his left arm? Like Gardner?” Kim asked.
“Yeah. They were similar to Mr. Gardner’s. Not as spread out though,” the nurse said. “I think they were more centralized at the wrist. Forgive me, if I seem a little scatterbrained. I’m working on my third double. The uptake in violent crimes has been unbelievable.”
“Have you seen anymore victims with those marks on their arm?” Kim asked.
The nurse shook her head. “I really don’t understand how Mr. Gardner can help you in this state, so don’t hang around too long. OK?” She headed towards the door and turned back before leaving. “I haven’t seen you before. Are you from a different jurisdiction?”
“What?” Terrence asked.
“I’ve seen most of the cops around here. I’ve never seen any of you,” the nurse said.
Reggie opened the door and interrupted the conversation. “Everything OK in here?”
“Oh, hi Reggie. Do you know these detectives?” the nurs
e asked.
“Can you keep a secret, Bonnie?” Reggie asked.
A knot formed in Terrence’s throat. He didn’t enjoy lying. It was instinct to flash the badge, even if this one wasn’t real.
“Remember, it’s a secret,” Reggie said. “They’re FBI.”
“FBI? Because of Reverend Cobb?” Bonnie asked.
“We can’t discuss it any further,” Kim said. “We hope you will keep the secret.”
“Of course,” Bonnie said. “Sorry.” She hurried by Reggie and left.
“OK, why does Bonnie think you’re detectives? No offense, Don, but you and Mason are beyond retirement age,” Reggie said.
“Don’t look at me,” Mason said. “He’s the one who flashed a badge.” Mason pointed at Terrence.
“Where did you get the badge?” Don asked.
“A Halloween costume from a few years ago,” Terrence said.
“Wait… you’re a detective and dressed as one on Halloween?” Mason asked.
“He was a detective, and I asked the same thing back then,” Kim said.
A low groan captured everyone’s attention. Tom Gardner’s finger twitched. His legs moved underneath a blanket.
“He’s waking up,” Kim said.
“Maybe we should get the nurse,” Don said.
“Not yet. Let’s see if we can get something out of him first,” Kim said. “Tom, can you hear me?”
Tom slowly lowered his chin to his chest and brought it back up again.
“Good. What happened earlier?” Kim asked.
Tom opened his mouth to speak, but could only make a gurgling sound.
“We really should let the nurse know he’s awake,” Don said.
“In a minute.” Kim’s tone held a hint of frustration. “Tom, what happened to you?”
Tom opened his eyes. His pupils were shiny black. Kim took a step back and tripped on Terrence’s foot. He caught her before she fell.
“What the hell is wrong with his eyes?” Reggie asked.
“You’re hiding a lot in your shadow,” Tom said. His voice was deep. His words were more of a growl. “Why don’t you tell your friends how you like whores? You’ll feel better once it’s off your chest.”
