The Shadow King

by Lozar, D. C.

  Biting down on the inside of my lip, I turned the blade, raised my arm, and stabbed the thing into my thigh. It went in up to the base, smooth as butter, further than I had expected, and the blood came up to the surface fast.

  The blade stuck in the bone, and I had to jiggle it from side-to-side to make it let go. In a way, this was good. I needed the wound to get Frank’s attention. Thick red liquid gushed down my pants. It looked black in the moonlight.

  I wiped the blade off on my shirt and put it away.

  Head up, chest out, I marched past the security desk and yanked open Frank’s door. His room was immaculately clean, white, and empty. There were secured cabinets built into the walls that only unsealed when Frank authorized it. “I’ve been hurt. I need medical attention.”

  A scanner raced across my body, stopped, and focused in on my leg wound. “You are bleeding. I will call for an ambulance. Do not panic.”

  “Thank you. Do you have a first aid kit?”

  Frank’s synthetic voice sounded reluctant. “I do. However, in reviewing my video feeds, it appears your wound was self-inflicted. Do you need psychiatric help as well? Are you on medications for your mental health?”

  “No.”

  “Are you planning to pursue legal action against Faraday Premier Parking Corporation and its affiliates? If so, be advised that our tapes clearly show that this injury was in no way our fault.”

  The blood oozed over my sneaker, soaking it, before spreading out in a pool on the white floor that reminded me of the crimson disc around Alice.

  “I agree.” Through trial and error, our gang had figured out how to make Frank do what we wanted. I just needed to phrase it right. “However, withholding life-saving medical supplies from a victim before the arrival of medical personnel is an actionable offense. Has the ambulance been dispatched? Why have you not given me a first aid kit?”

  “911 is not responding. I do not know why.” There was a pause as Frank reviewed his legal software and switched up his attitude. A green light appeared over one of the wall cabinets, and a moment later it opened. It held a white plastic box with a large red cross on it. “I am sorry for any perceived delay. I will continue to call for help. Be advised, if they do not pick up. I will lodge a formal complaint on your behalf. Remember, I am here to help.”

  “Thanks, Frank.” I took the box, ripped it open, found a cautery stick and jammed it into the hole in my leg. The pain was blinding, like ten times worse than the cut. Smoke rose through the denim as the stick did its job. I didn’t want to look, but it felt like the bleeding stopped. I inventoried the first aid kit: There were three more sticks, lots of bandages, antiseptic spray, and some pain pills.

  I figured that was enough to get the book back from Alice.

  “If you have been pleased with my service today, take a moment to fill out a brief survey. Once a month, a randomly selected responder will win a year’s supply of Kalona coffee.”

  “Great. Send me the link.” Leaving Frank, I limped back out into the lobby. I was shaking from the pain, a little disoriented, so I didn’t connect the dots when I reached under the desk to retrieve my backpack and didn’t find it. I stood up, trying to remember why I’d moved it.

  “Hey, Flip.”

  My heart shot up my throat. Had Jacob followed me?

  I took a step back and raised my fists. I wasn’t going down without a fight.

  There were three shadowy figures in the atrium.

  “Who is that?”

  “Are you hurt?” Skim stepped into the moonlight. His eyes were sharp and suspicious. “Or are you stealing from Frank for your private stash?”

  “How come you never showed up with the book?” Mickey moved forward, his long thin frame making him look like a scarecrow. “I offered to help? Maybe you were going to run off – join a new gang?”

  “You both need to stop,” said Carli, the third shadow. She was a wiry girl with tangled black hair, a nose ring, and press on tattoos she'd found in a drug store. She said all the best artists had tats. “We already know what he’s doing. Don’t torture him.”

  My mind raced, reviewing everything I’d done that day. There was no way they could know I'd lost the book. I had to play it cool. Make them talk. “You going to rat me out to Jacob?”

  “No way, Bud,” Mickey smiled and gave me a friendly shoulder punch. He was thin but muscular, so his punches left bruises. “We came to help.”

  My heart fell. “To write in the book?”

  “To rescue Alice.” Skim ambled over and took the first aid kit with a dirty paw. I wasn't sure he was the best one to be holding something that was supposed to be sterile, but I kept my mouth shut. “Without her, what good is the book?”

  I looked at Mickey. "I thought you said you could read?"

  "I wish." Mickey beamed at the other two. "I told you he was alright."

  "I don't get it."

  Carli slid my backpack out from where they'd moved it. "It was a test. If you went to Mickey, it meant you cared more about saving yourself than helping Alice."

  Skim punched the desk with his fist. "In which case, we were going to pulverize you."

  "But you didn't. You went to Frank, paid for a kit with your own blood, and we caught you right before you went to rescue Alice alone." Mickey walked to the glass lobby door. He peered out into the gloom and shook his head - impressed. "That's heroic, man."

  I had been right to let them fill in the blanks. They didn't know I'd lost the book. Now, it was time to play along. "We told her we'd come back."

  "We keep our promises," agreed Mickey. “Only, we've got to hurry. While we waited for you, two shadows blew past. She won't be able to hold them off for long.”

  “Has everyone got their flashers?” Carli pulled out hers and checked the charge.

  A flasher was a thick metal tube, almost like a flashlight, with one end that tapered into a sharp metal point. Mickey said the police used them to control demonstrators before anyone knew whose fault it was that everyone was disappearing. We'd tested it on Gutter about a year ago after he broke a rule. He was frozen, paralyzed so that only his eyes moved, for two hours.

  That's when Jacob decided to see if someone could break free of the flash if they really wanted to, so he killed Gutter's pet cat. Jacob did it right in front of him, gave him plenty of time to stop it from happening, but all Gutter did was stand there.

  Gutter disappeared the next day. I like to think he ran away, maybe found a new pet, a better gang.

  Jacob said we weren’t supposed to talk about the cat ever again.

  There were three charges in each flasher. No one had tried it on the shadows, but we all agreed it should work.

  “Ok, this is it, stay together guys.” Mickey waved us toward the door. “I think we’re clear.”

  We were outside, across the street, and halfway across town, running hard and keeping quiet, before my brain processed what had happened. I had a team, a group of friends that were willing to risk their lives to help me get to Alice. This was happening. We were on a rescue mission, outside, at night. I smiled to myself. It really was sort of heroic.

  I was glad I was wearing shoes. It was hard to see the ground, and I would have sliced up my feet without them. Mickey was in front, leading us. Skim was next, then me, and Carli had our back. The air was crisp and a lot cooler than during the day.

  I took a deep breath as we rounded a corner and smelled something strange. It was a musky odor that reminded me of pennies.

  "Drop!" yelled Carli.

  Instinctively, I let my knees go out from under me and hit the ground. I felt the flash burst zip over my head.

  Then, something heavy fell on me. It felt weird, like someone had dropped a pile of dirt on my back, but lighter, and when I looked up, I couldn’t see anything.

  “So that's what they are,” said Skim. “Disgusting.”

  “Stay alert,” warned Mickey. “I see more of them.”

  “Are you okay, Flip? Can you move?�
� Carli’s voice was a mix of concern and revulsion. “See if you can crawl out from under it.”

  I was supposed to crawl out from under what?

  Worried, I got my hands and knees under me. Droplets of the sandy stuff fell off me as I stood up. Cautious, still unsure of what had happened, I hurried away from the spot. The ground felt odd, squishy, almost like I was walking on bubble wrap.

  Carli stood on the sidewalk, her flasher aimed at the thing I had just climbed out of, her lips thin with determination.

  I forced myself to get behind her before looking back.

  The thing on the ground, the shadow she had flashed, was made up of millions of red-eyed mosquitos, the same type that had been feasting on us in the swamp. Their eyes followed me, tracking my movements as if I were a tasty dog biscuit. They weren’t dead, just paralyzed.

  My stomach churned.

  That’s when I noticed the sandy feeling all over my body and realized that hundreds of the little vampires were still on me, rolled into the crevices of my clothes, in my hair, sticking to the back of my neck.

  I ripped off my shirt and swatted at any area that felt dirty. “Yuck!”

  A hundred meters ahead of us, Skim's weapon flashed and a blanket of bugs landed on the ground at his feet. “When it gets dark, they hunt in packs.”

  “No shit, Sherlock,” said Carli.

  “Shut up."

  “Keep moving." Mickey's voice tracked back to us. He was too far ahead to see. “We have to get to the swamp.”

  “But, that’s where they’re coming from." Grudgingly, Carli moved to catch up. “We should turn back.”

  Following Carli, my flasher pointed behind me, I couldn't agree more.

  Skim's bulky form waited for us behind a minivan, his eyes blazed. "If we turn back, they'll get us. We have to keep moving."

  Three shadows floated toward the ones we'd flashed. They hesitated over their paralyzed comrades, confused, swirling like mini-tornadoes. We could hear them whining, maybe trying to communicate, then they swooped down to the ground, floating over it, sniffing it.

  "They're tracking us," I whispered.

  The nose portion of the shadows rose off the ground, orienting on us.

  "They smell the blood on your leg," gasped Carli. "Run!"

  Mickey was far ahead, Carli was at my side, matching my pace, but Skim was on the heavier side, and there was no way he was going to keep up with us at full sprint.

  Four more shadows joined the hunt.

  We ran hard. I could see the embankment that led into the swamp.

  "Guys!" Skim's voice was desperate, out of breath.

  I turned back. They were almost on him. I watched as he fired over his shoulder, hit one and missed another. He was out of flashes. He looked at me, the whites of his eyes wide with fear.

  He had the first-aid kit, our only hope of saving Alice, and there was no way anyone was going back for it if the shadows got him. He had to make it.

  I lifted my flasher, aimed, and fired. I had never used it before, and the recoil was more than I expected. The silver tube flew out of my hand, rolled, and disappeared under a dumpster. One of the shadows dropped, frozen by my blast, but two more converged on Skim. “Come on!”

  “I’m trying,” he screamed as the shadows enveloped him.

  I expected him to shriek, to wail and cry for his mother, and then fall to the ground in a heap. I almost turned away, not wishing to see how quickly his flesh disappeared.

  That didn’t happen.

  The clouds of mosquitos, five in all, passed around him, ignoring him as if he were invisible, and continued their hungry pursuit of the three of us. I gave up any thought of retrieving my flasher and ran.

  I was happy for Skim but twice as scared. Some animal part of me wished his flesh could have acted as a distraction for the shadows, maybe even squelched their thirst for blood long enough for the rest of us to get away.

  Instead, they were nearly on us.

  Carli fired behind her, hitting one shadow. Its members fell from the air, hitting the ground like black rain. She used her last flash and missed.

  Mickey fired twice, scoring direct hits.

  He only had one flash left, and there were two shadows. One was focused on Carli while the other was only a foot away from me. My heart raced toward exploding. I could feel the outer edge of the shadow landing on my skin, could feel their scouts biting the back of my neck. I was going to die, stung billions of times, sucked dry and mummified.

  Then, I tripped over something and fell headlong, my arms flailing, into the warm gooey mud of the swamp.

  The stuff was in my eyes, ears, nose, and I even swallowed some of it. My arms clawed at the water, my knees kicked frantically, as I tried to find something solid to push off. I came up for air, splashing around like a spaz, and dug the slime out of my eyes.

  “Don’t move,” said Carli’s voice from the place where I’d tripped. “They can’t see you.”

  I squinted. Her body lay hidden just below the surface of the muck. Only her eyes were visible in the moonlight.

  The air was thick with whining shadows, phantasmal grim-reapers, which floated a foot above the murky water, hunting blindly. Their bodies shimmered with sparkling red eyes, and the air reeked of musky pennies.

  Wheezing and coughing, Skim reached the edge of the swamp. He grinned down at us like a Cheshire Cat. “That’s why I don’t shower.”

  “Funny,” growled Mickey, a muck-covered blob to our left. “You’re a real comedian.”

  “Just saying,” countered Skim, glancing up and down his grimy arms. “Not a bite on me.”

  Standing, I reached down to help Carli to her feet. “Thanks for tripping me.”

  “It was an accident.” She smiled apologetically. “I was trying to get out of your way.”

  “Is Alice nearby?” Skim jumped into the swamp with us.

  “Not far,” said Carli. She pointed at a partially submerged tree. Its bark shone with a fluorescent letter C. “I always mark my way.”

  “Did she have her flasher with her?” I imagined finding Alice too late, an abscess of flesh and bone, still alive, cursing us for taking too long. Would she hate me for coming back for the book? Worse, would she tell Mickey and the others the truth?

  “I saw her pack it this morning. It had two charges left,” said Skim, pushing past me.

  “Two?” I’d never seen Alice use her flasher.

  “She used one on Jacob,” said Carli as she led us from one chalk mark to the next. “That’s why he did this to her.”

  “Wait,” I said. “She fell. Jacob helped save her.”

  “Last week that little shit cornered her in the vault and said she owed him a kiss.” Carli spat. “Alice is smart enough to know a boy never wants just one kiss.”

  "So she flashed him,” snickered Skim, “and left him in the dark with instructions to work on his manners.”

  “You were ahead of the rest of us,” continued Carli, her voice a deep growl. “You didn’t see what happened. He knew where that car was. Maybe he scouted the area. I don’t know. We’ve never gone into the swamp before. Why now?”

  “We kept our mouths shut.” Mickey’s voice was thick with hatred. “We know better than to cross him in public.”

  “You, however,” chuckled Carli, “are not nearly as bright.”

  “I’m glad he’s joining our little team,” said Skim over his shoulder. “I was tired of being the dumbest one.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Shh!” Mickey held up a hand. We froze. He motioned for us to move forward quietly. As a group, we peered over a half-submerged delivery truck.

  Alice was in the tree, right where we'd left her. Beneath her, dozens of shadows searched the water, sensing there was food but unable to find it.

  Then, as we watched in horror, a shadow moved directly toward her.

  It was larger and darker than the rest.

  Alice held up her flasher, desperately pressing the button, bu
t nothing happened. She must have used her last two blasts waiting for us.

  "Crap. That's a big one," said Skim.

  "Maybe it's their leader," suggested Carli.

  The shadow moved to the base of the tree and raised its head to look up at Alice. It seemed to see her, to know exactly where she was despite her camouflage. Mickey raised his flasher, but we were too far away for a clean shot.

  I swallowed hard, imagining that this must be the mosquito king.

  But when it spoke, I knew things were worse than that.

  “I promised you I’d come back,” said Jacob. The moonlight caught him, and his eyes shone silver. He’d skipped his shower on purpose. He had planned this. “In fact, I brought you a present.”

  “I don’t want it,” said Alice. Her voice was weak but firm. “Leave me alone.”

  “Are you sure?” Jacob pulled a two-liter bottle of water from his backpack. “No strings attached. I just wanted to show you how sorry I am that you got hurt.”

  “You pushed me!” Despite her anger, Alice's eyes locked on the water. She had lost a lot of blood.

  “You flashed me.”

  “So we’re even.” She cocked her head to the side and gave him a coy smile. “You need me, Jacob. I’m the only one who can read. That’s the real reason you came back for me.”

  He lifted the water up to her, and she drank greedily.

  Mickey motioned for us to spread out, to surround the tree, and then to converge on Jacob from all sides. Alligator-like, I moved to the right through the muck with only my head above the surface.

  A shadow whined past, searching.

  Mickey smiled as he watched Alice drink.

  Her eyes narrowed, suddenly apprehensive. She moved the bottle away from her lips. “Did you poison it?”

  “Normally, I might have,” conceded Jacob with a sneer. “Only, I found a new toy today.”

  Alice screwed the cap back on the bottle and lodged it in a crevice in the tree. "Is it a rubber ducky?"