Shadow Form (Dark Impulse Book 2)

by Edmund Hughes

  The two of them reached the door they’d entered through and carefully slipped out into the night. They got back into Katie’s car, and she pulled onto the street.

  “So what now?” asked Jack. “It doesn’t seem like we can do anything, unless you’re down to swim.”

  “Your grandfather has a boat,” said Katie. “Or, I guess I should say that you do, now. The coordinates Margaret identified aren’t too far from Lestaron Island. We can make it out there in an hour or two.”

  “Are you serious?” he asked. “It’s the middle of the night. It’ll be pitch-black on the water.”

  “Clear skies overhead,” said Katie. “Trust me, it won’t be that dark. The trip will be pretty straightforward with GPS tracking. We need to do this now, before the gang confirms that you’re still alive, and during a time when you can use your abilities to be sneaky.”

  Jack furrowed his brow, not feeling as confident as Katie sounded. He kept his objections to himself as she drove through Lesser Town, down to the docks. She parked and led him along the abandoned pier to a small boathouse off to the side.

  A speedboat with three outboard motors and a mid-sized cabin was swaying on the water inside. Jack wasn’t surprised when Katie pulled the keys out of her pocket and climbed onto the deck.

  “Come on,” she said. “We’re wasting time.”

  “You’re serious about this?” said Jack.

  Katie made a face and beckoned to him.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked.

  “We’re going out onto the open ocean in the middle of the night,” said Jack. “There could be storms. Or rogue waves. Or sharks.”

  A slow smile spread across Katie’s face.

  “You’re afraid of the water,” she said. “Oh my god. That is so funny.”

  “I am not!” said Jack. “I just have a healthy respect for the elements.”

  “Do you mind setting your healthy respect aside for a while so that we can make progress on investigating some criminals?”

  Jack sighed and climbed onto the boat beside her. Katie made sure the engines were fueled before starting them up and then took the wheel, steering them out onto the water.

  He was surprised by both how loud the boat was while it was up and running and how fast they traveled. Lestaron Island was only a couple of lights fading into the distance behind them after a few minutes. And as much as Jack hated to admit it, the feeling of being out on the water with almost nothing on the horizon in all other directions did unnerve him a little.

  It was hard for Jack to say much to Katie without having to shout over the sound of the engines. He kept his eyes on the water, occasionally tensing up as Katie plowed over larger than average waves. It took him a couple of seconds to recognize their destination when they finally came upon it after close to two hours.

  It wasn’t a ship, and it wasn’t the place where the gun they were tracking had been ditched. A large, stormproof building had been constructed atop a rocky, island spire with high cliffs and no beaches. Several boats were moored outside, and the operation reminded Jack a little of an oil drilling platform, secluded and clearly built for a purpose.

  Katie killed the boat’s engines, letting it coast in toward a cliff on the opposite side from where the boats were. Jack licked his lips, considering what would need to happen next. He’d come to the island for a reason, one that he wasn’t sure Katie was going to like.

  “Perfect,” said Katie. “We can scale the cliffs and see if there is a way to sneak in. All we need are a few photos of their crimes, and we’ll have enough evidence to deal with these fuckers.”

  “Right.” Jack smiled, feeling conflicted about what he was about to do. “Katie?”

  “What is it?” She turned around, facing toward Jack instead of the front of the boat.

  He pulled his hand out of his pocket, flipping the tiny leather pouch of sleeping powder he’d purchased from Palmer, and dumping it out into his hand. Katie frowned in confusion as he held it in front of her face for her to inspect, and then blew it in her face.

  Palmer had promised Jack that it was fast-acting, and the results proved him to be an honest merchant. Jack had to slide forward to catch Katie to keep her from tumbling against the ship’s wheel. He gently lowered her down to the deck, and then carefully steered the ship to keep it from pulling in too close to the rocky cliffs. He might have been able to navigate the open waters on his own, but he could at least manage that much.

  He didn’t want Katie to see what he was about to do. He didn’t want her to even know about it, though he suspected that she’d be smart enough to connect the dots once she eventually woke up. Jack fumbled for a few minutes with the anchor before figuring out how to let it drop, securing the ship in place. Then, he carefully made the jump from the ship’s bow onto the cliff and began scaling his way up.

  CHAPTER 35

  The cliff wall had a dank, musty smell to it, but Jack’s hands found purchase easily enough. It had looked harder from the boat, and within ten minutes, Jack was standing at the top, crouching as he watched the gang’s hideout in the distance.

  From the outside, it looked like a 21st century pirate fortress. A fence with razor wire ran around the perimeter. Solar panels decorated the roof, and a massive rain recycler was attached to one side. The walls of the main building were solid concrete, which was one of the few building materials that would survive the kinds of storms the small island would be vulnerable to.

  It was a spartan, self-sufficient facility, and it seemed analogous to the hearts of the men capable of doing what Jack knew the criminals inside did. They were slavers, murderers, and rapists. The kind of men who stood apart from society due to their intense cruelty.

  Jack approached the hideout slowly, keeping low and making each of his steps silent. The fence posed little problem for him and his Spectral Sword, which cut through the metal like a knife through soft butter.

  A single guard stood on watch outside a metal door in the front of the building. He was sitting in a chair, staring at his phone, with an assault rifle lazily leaned against one knee. Jack pressed his back against the building and slowly moved into position behind the man. His focus was on staying silent. He doubted the guard would be able to see much with his eyes adjusted to the bright phone screen, rather than the dark night.

  The guard made a small, interested noise, and then coughed into the crook of his arm. He never got a chance to take another breath. Jack wrapped his arm around the man’s neck, levering it with enough force to close off the man’s windpipe, along with any chance of him managing to get out a scream.

  The guard struggled, but that only made his death quicker as his muscles exhausted what little oxygen was left in his blood. He went still in less than thirty seconds, and the only sound announcing the encounter was that of the rifle clattering against the rock.

  Jack waited until he was sure the man was dead and not just unconscious. It was far more satisfying than it had any right to be. And it was easy. It felt like finally tracking down an annoying fly and getting the perfect angle to crush it out of existence with the swatter.

  He placed the dead man back in his chair, positioning him to look as though he might just be asleep. Jack turned his attention to the door, casting Spectral Lockpick and quickly defeating the lock. He opened it slowly, slipping into the hideout and gently closing it behind him.

  He was a little surprised by what he found inside. The building’s exterior seemed almost militarized in appearance, but the interior felt comfortable and actively lived in. Jack walked through the entryway, spotting several bins where the gang apparently took their shoes off on entry.

  The first door he passed by was open, and Jack peered into a living room with a soft carpet and high-end entertainment center. It made him feel strange to imagine the gang members relaxing in that room, perhaps even playing one of the video game consoles that he could see stuffed into the cabinet underneath.

  The next room completely exhausted
any sympathy he might have had for them. Jack stared into a chamber full of cages. There were no carpets or creature comforts in this room. Just the smell of human misery and a few bloodstains on the concrete floor. None of the cages were currently occupied, but Jack had no doubt that they’d once held people.

  Seeing it made him feel an odd emotion. It wasn’t fury or hatred, but something more calculated and actionable. A purposeful buzzing in his hands. It almost felt like having a restless leg, tapping away with an incessant purpose. Except his chosen outlet for this energy was going to be a little messier.

  The men deserved it. And it needed to be done. After how they’d hurt Ryoko and killed her uncle, and after the attack on the mansion, Jack almost didn’t have a choice. The situation demanded a conclusion, and he was the only person capable of bringing one about.

  Despite the time of night, Jack found it odd that he hadn’t encountered more men awake. He reached the next room, and this time, he had to gently push his way in through a door that had been left open just a crack. It was dark on the other side, but his night vision was good enough for him to make out the relevant shapes.

  The room was a dormitory, probably one of several, given that there were only four beds. One of them was occupied, and Jack approached the sleeping man in silence, taking steps that fell in rhythm with the man’s breathing. He stood next to his bedside for a moment before summoning his Spectral Sword. He lifted the dark, ethereal blade up, and then slammed down into the man’s chest. Simple. A basic movement. Over in a second.

  This time, Jack’s prey did make some noise. He gasped as Jack’s sword pierced through his chest, and let out a pathetic cry as he tried to get his hands around the blade and pull it out. Jack let his sword dematerialize. It had already done its damage.

  He heard someone call out from another room, followed by approaching footsteps. Jack spotted the room’s light and lashed out at it with Spectral Hand, letting the shadowy tendril shatter the bulb with a satisfying pop. Then, he walked over to the door and leaned against the wall behind it.

  “Rufus?” shouted a voice. “What the fuck is going on in here?”

  Jack felt an excited rush as he heard his new target stepping into the room and flicking the light switch, to no avail. He let the man walk further in, and then slammed the door shut just as the man turned on a flashlight.

  “Jesus!” The man stumbled back from Jack as the flashlight’s beam focused on him. “Who the fuck are—”

  He never got the last word out. Jack summoned his sword and swung it in a single, furious movement. It cut clean through the man, severing his torso from his lower body at a crooked angle. The man’s legs stayed upright for an instant after he was already dead before toppling to the ground next to his upper half. Blood spewed out onto the floor, enough to make the air feel sticky and humid.

  The fight, if it could be called that, had been short but loud. Jack could already hear approaching footsteps from elsewhere in the base. He slipped back out through the door, smashing the hallway light and sneaking away from whoever was coming to investigate.

  “What’s with all the noise?”

  Whoever was asking the question sounded half asleep. Jack peered around the corner, watching as they pushed into the room he’d just left and went through the same process of trying the light switch.

  “What the hell…?” asked the man. “Rufus, did you spill something? What is this… What…?”

  Jack listened as the man let out a terrified noise that was a little too winded to be a proper scream. He knew that he could double back and finish him off easily if he wanted. He was about to, when he heard the base’s front door swing open, followed by heavy footsteps of at least a half dozen men.

  “Check every room.” Emanuel’s voice was distinct and recognizable. “And go in pairs. I’m not interested in losing any more people tonight.”

  Jack slipped through the nearest door and into a large, communal dining room with a single table at the center. A chandelier dangled from overhead, and he used a tendril to break the lightbulbs in it. There were several doors leading to other rooms and hallways where more illumination came in from, but at least he’d given himself a few shadows to work with.

  He waited in the corner nearest to the door the men would eventually come in through. They were sticking together as a group. It was smart, but probably a strategy born out of fear, rather than a deliberate tactic.

  “It’s him,” muttered one of the men, in a voice Jack could barely hear. “It’s that same guy. The one that killed Monty. The fucking psycho.”

  “It’s not him,” said Emanuel. “You saw the state he was in when he left the warehouse. And Khumar took a car by his house, just in case he has any friends.”

  “I don’t know…” said Khumar. “I just… don’t know.”

  All of them sounded scared except for Emanuel. Jack was surprised by how much that pleased him. He waited, staying patient as the men slowly made their way through the base. He heard the exact moment they discovered the bodies he’d left in the dormitory.

  “What the fuck?” shouted one of the men. “Jesus fuck! I didn’t sign on for this!”

  “Don’t even think about running,” said Emanuel. “I will put a bullet through the back of anyone I see turning tail. This is our base. Whoever thinks they can take us on here will soon learn otherwise.”

  Jack continued to wait. He stayed where he was, even as the men began trickling into the room past him. They were dragging something with him, a body bag that Jack assumed contained one of the fallen gang members. Someone nearly spotted Jack with their flashlight. He reacted immediately, gathering enough blood essence to cast Shadow Form and turn himself incorporeal.

  It worked perfectly, for once, and Jack found the sensation fascinating. It let him swim through the shadows as though they were icy water, while simultaneously losing all sense of physical form. He became the shadow, sensing the world through the dark outlines they contained. Then, he reformed, his body pulling back together as the smoky darkness of Shadow Form coalesced back into his normal physical presence.

  He was in the opposite corner, and he was ready to make his move. He stepped out in front of the hallway that led back toward the base’s entrance, cutting off any avenue of escape. This wasn’t going to be a fair fight, and it certainly wasn’t going to be pretty.

  “Fuck!” shouted one of the men. “No, no, no! It’s him!”

  “Who else would it be?” asked Jack. He rushed forward, summoning his Spectral Sword and stabbing it through the chest of the man who’d spoken. There were six men in the group, five, now that he’d killed one. All of them flinched back in horror, except for Emanuel, who managed to fight off his nerves and fire his pistol at Jack.

  The bullet went wide, though it was more a fault of the darkened room than Emanuel’s aim. Jack leapt backward anyway, slipping into the shadows. He wanted the men scared. It would make things that much easier for him. Emanuel was doing his best to keep the situation under control, holding his arms out and gesturing for the others to stay calm.

  “Jack Masterson,” said Emanuel. “You truly are something. It amazes me that you’re even here, right now. I take it you had on a bulletproof vest the other day?”

  Jack smiled to himself. “That’s a reasonable conclusion to come to. It’s wrong, but it does make sense. How else would I have been able to survive all that gunfire?”

  He kept moving, casting Shadow Form and creeping from corner to corner, preventing Emanuel from getting a solid idea of where he was. The rest of the men were too nervous to be much of a threat, but Jack could tell from the posture of their leader that he was still capable of aiming and firing accurately.

  “You are quite the character,” said Emanuel. “It’s a shame we had to meet each other under such complicated circumstances. We have so much in common.”

  Jack appeared in the far corner of the room, opposite the direction most of the men were facing.

  “Do we?” he said. T
he men flinched and hurried to spin around to face him. One of them fired, but Jack was already somewhere else. The mobility that Shadow Form gave him in a dark environment was almost unfair.

  “Fear is my weapon,” said Emanuel. “It is fascinating to me to see someone else try to use it against me and my men.”

  “Try?” This time, Jack appeared directly behind one of the men. He grabbed him by the shoulders, digging his fingers hard enough to gouge into the man’s flesh through his shirt. The trigger-happy man from before fired, and the muzzle flash illuminated his face this time. It was Khumar, and he was scared.

  The bullets struck the man Jack had been hiding behind, just as he’d intended. He faded away again, rotating around the group. The remaining men had finally begun using their flashlights to limit the number of hiding places left to him. It didn’t matter much, as he was starting to tax his blood essence reserves, regardless.

  “Oh, they might be scared,” said Emanuel. “But I’m not. And you aren’t, either. Killers aren’t afraid of violence, not in the way of those unaccustomed to the savage beauty of death.”

  Jack held his tongue, tamping down an intense urge to refute Emanuel’s point about them being similar. He couldn’t risk it now. There were still four men left standing, and all of them had guns. He could still win the fight, but he couldn’t get cocky.

  “No, you aren’t scared of dying, Jack Masterson,” said Emanuel. “Or of killing. But I think I have an idea of what would scare you.”

  Emanuel walked over to the body bag they’d dragged into the room with them earlier. Jack’s heart caught in his throat as he realized who was inside as it was being unzipped. Emanuel dumped Katie out of her bag and then pulled her to her feet. She had a gag taped into her mouth, and she still looked hazy from the sleeping powder.

  “Loss,” said Emanuel. “Now that’s scary in a different kind of way. It’s a little funny, isn’t it? Your crusade against us began over a woman. Now it will end with a different woman. If only you were in a position to learn from having such a weakness.”