Shadows Rising

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Shadows Rising Page 6

by Dean Rasmussen


  Michael slipped on his backpack. It’d be best for everyone if he walked away and never looked back.

  “Really, free food!” Rebecca yelled.

  He didn’t move as she walked away. “I’m not hungry,” he said.

  She stopped and spun around. “Come on.” She beamed a mouthful of teeth and waved him forward. He lumbered forward, and then took her arm when he caught up to her. She held Maggie’s arm on her other side.

  They circled around the back of the auditorium toward the front entrance of the high school where they had originally entered. Security guards watched them from the front entrance and he expected them to chase him or yell at him to leave the property.

  “Oh, gosh.” Maggie kept her face down. “They’re watching us.”

  “We got this,” Rebecca said.

  They walked along the sidewalk and paused before going further. Rebecca turned to Michael. “Wait for us right over there on those steps.” She pointed across the street to the side entrance of a small, brick church. The windows were all boarded up with sheets of plywood.

  Michael nodded. “Sure.”

  “We’ll hurry back.”

  Michael crossed the street and sat down on the steps leading to the side door of the small church. A wooden sign attached to the brick wall facing the street proclaimed First Lutheran Church of Stone Hill. A sign taped to the front door read ‘See you all at the high school auditorium!’

  Michael’s stomach was rumbling by the time Rebecca and Maggie came back. Rebecca was juggling an extra plate of food and an extra drink for him. Maggie hunched forward with her head down like she was helping Rebecca commit a burglary. She handed Michael his plate of food, which comprised of a hamburger, baked beans, and potato chips and a large cup of lemonade. Before Rebecca and Maggie found a place to sit on the steps, a boy approached them from across the street. He was the same boy with the white bandana from the auditorium who’d waved at Rebecca. He shouted Rebecca’s name from across the street, but she ignored him. Moments later, the boy was standing next to her, glaring down at Michael.

  “Rebecca,” the boy said, “can I talk to you?”

  “Go away, Joey,” she replied. “We’re eating.”

  “Hi, Maggie.” He grinned at Maggie.

  “Hi,” her face lit up.

  “What happened back there?” Joey eyed Michael. “Who’s that?”

  Michael ate his food.

  “He’s visiting my neighbor,” she answered. “Please let us eat in peace.” She dropped onto the steps next to Michael. Maggie stood expectantly next to Joey.

  Joey stepped over in front of Rebecca. “We need to talk,” he repeated.

  “Leave her alone,” Michael said.

  “Go to Hell,” Joey said, raising his voice and stepping toward Michael. “This is between me and my girl.”

  “I’m not your girl,” Rebecca said.

  “What happened in there?” Joey asked.

  “Go away,” Michael said, filling his mouth with another bite of burger.

  Joey lunged down and swatted Michael’s plate off his lap, splashing the food and drink across the steps.

  “Dude. Not cool.” Michael raised his voice. “She obviously doesn’t want to talk to you.”

  Joey grabbed the front of Michael’s t-shirt and lifted him up and forward. Michael swung his arm up punching into Joey’s chest. Joey threw his right fist into Michael’s face, and Michael collapsed back onto the sidewalk. His backpack cushioned his fall, but something inside it cracked under his weight. He squeezed his eyes shut. He’d broken his cellphone. A moment later, blood dripped down Michael’s cheek and onto the sidewalk.

  “No!” Rebecca yelled.

  Maggie pulled at Rebecca’s arm. “Let’s go!” She glanced up and down the sidewalk and back toward the auditorium as if the police were chasing them.

  “Look what you did, idiot,” Joey said, gesturing toward the spilled food and blood. “Dumbshit.”

  Rebecca crouched down and checked on Michael.

  “Get out of here!” she screamed at Joey.

  Joey backed away. “I just want to talk with you. Why is that so difficult?”

  Michael wobbled as he sat up, and Rebecca used all the napkins to wipe the blood streaming from his nose.

  Maggie stood halfway now between Joey and Rebecca.

  “We’ll talk later!” Joey stormed back across the street toward the auditorium as Michael staggered to his feet. Two security guards in front of the auditorium doors were now talking into their walkie-talkies and watching them.

  Rebecca clutched at him as he regained his balance. “We should get moving.”

  “I didn’t finish my burger yet.” Michael grinned, reaching down as if he would pick it up off the ground.

  Her frown grew. “Seriously, we need to go now.”

  A police siren blared in the distance. His face was numb and his elbows ached, but he stood up and stumbled away from the auditorium as fast as he could. Rebecca held onto his arm at first, but soon they ran, turned a corner, and went down a hill. Rebecca led them between some houses and then through an alley and down to the edge of a small lake.

  The police sirens faded as they approached the lake. The path winded through tall grass and between a small forest of trees. It led them to a clearing where dozens of massive stones, the size of coffee tables, circled them like a smaller version of Stonehenge except all the stones were lying on their sides. A stone-lined fire pit filled with charred branches and black ash sat in the sand at the edge of the water. They all climbed onto one large stone. The stench of dead fish killed Michael’s appetite.

  Michael dug through his backpack and found that his cellphone screen had shattered just as he’d suspected. “Dammit.”

  “What’s wrong?” Rebecca asked.

  Michael showed her the cellphone.

  “Cellphones aren’t legal here,” Maggie said.

  “Well, they’re legal,” Rebecca said, “but Pastor John thinks they’re bad for us.”

  Michael powered on the phone and the screen lit up, but the image was distorted and broken into dozens of small sections. “He’s right.”

  “If you need to call someone, you can go to the library, but only people within Stone Hill. No long-distance.”

  “Can we go somewhere else?” Maggie said. “I can’t breathe down here.”

  “I’m still hungry,” Rebecca said.

  “You can come to my house,” Maggie said. “We’ll make sandwiches.”

  “Can Michael come with?”

  Maggie shook her head. “My mom doesn’t like strangers in the house.”

  Michael dug into his backpack for a bag of chips, but it had burst open. He dug out a handful of the crushed pieces and poured them on the ground.

  She turned to Rebecca. “We should go now. I’ll make you a sandwich.”

  “We’re just starting to have fun,” Rebecca laughed.

  “This isn’t funny, Rebecca,” Maggie said. “The police are after us. Pastor John will kill us. My parents will kill me!”

  “Nobody will kill you, Maggie.” Rebecca rolled her eyes.

  “Well, I’m leaving,” Maggie said. She stared at Rebecca. “Please come with me.”

  “Just wait, and we’ll all walk to Barlow’s market and get sandwiches.”

  “I can’t wait. I want to go home.”

  “I can’t just leave Michael by himself,” Rebecca said. “He doesn’t know his way around here.”

  “You don’t have to stay,” Michael said.

  “We have no plans,” she said and shrugged.

  “Pastor John will not like this at all,” Maggie said. She slid off the stone and stormed away. Her footsteps crunched through the brush.

  The wind picked up and blew across his face. Rebecca’s hair waved to the side, some of it fanning out over her shoulder. Michael powered off his cellphone and returned it to his backpack. Rebecca caught his eye and a warmth spread through his face. A bird cackled in a tree overhe
ad.

  “It stinks here,” Michael said.

  Rebecca laughed. “I know. We should get my car, but it’s at Maggie’s house.”

  8

  They left the shelter of the lake’s edge, and Rebecca led him back into town. She pointed out Maggie’s house when they got close. It was only two blocks beyond where Michael had crashed his grandfather’s car. A rusting gray Toyota Corolla sat parked on the street.

  “Is that your car?” Michael asked.

  “That’s my baby.”

  They walked over to it. The rust extended up the edges of the doors and surrounded the wheels. Rebecca looked over her shoulder at Maggie’s house.

  “She’s probably watching us. Do you mind waiting here?” she asked. “I left the keys inside.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “Sorry! I’ll be back.”

  Rebecca hurried to the side door of the house, and before she could knock Maggie had opened the door for her. Rebecca went inside and Michael glanced up and down the street.

  A white van stopped at the intersection a block away and the driver turned toward him. Michael stepped back. The van sat motionless, and the driver continued to stare at him. No use in hiding from them. He leaned against the rusted passenger door of her car and observed the van with his arms crossed over his chest. The driver was a young man with a thick beard. Another tall black-haired man with glasses sat in the passenger seat. The van crawled straight toward him.

  He swallowed and glanced back toward Maggie’s house. It was taking longer than he’d imagined just to grab a set of keys.

  Half a block away, the van slowed further, and their eyes locked onto his. He held back the urge to flip them off. The van stopped, and the passenger raised a camera with a long telephoto lens. So they wanted his picture. Michael stood tall and posed himself like a runway model in a fashion show. The passenger lowered the camera, and the van’s engine revved before continuing forward. The driver’s expressionless face turned away as they drove past him. The van disappeared a few blocks down the street.

  Rebecca emerged moments later, jingling her keys and apologizing to Maggie who remained hidden behind the doorway. She came back with a puzzled look on her face.

  “What’s wrong? You look angry.”

  “A white van came by,” he said.

  The smile dropped from her face. “That’s one of the temple vans. Did they say anything?”

  Michael shook his head. “They took my picture.”

  Rebecca’s eyes widened, and she unlocked the doors. “Oh, that’s not good.”

  They climbed into her car. A rose-scented air freshener hung from her rearview mirror.

  “What should I do?” he asked.

  Rebecca shrugged. “They’re probably following us after what happened.”

  “I’m sorry I’m causing so much trouble for you,” Michael said.

  “It’ll be okay. You should stay down or cover your face or something.”

  Michael slid down in his seat until he couldn’t see the road anymore.

  “That’s better. Stay down or I’ll put you in my trunk.” Rebecca laughed.

  She drove him across the main road through town and under a bridge leading to a park at the edge of Stone Hill. Two families wearing white clothing occupied the picnic tables in the park, so Rebecca drove to the edge of the lake and turned off her engine with her car facing the water.

  Michael pulled out a new bag of chips and granola bars from his backpack, and he shared them as they talked.

  “How long will you be in town?” she asked.

  “A month or two.”

  Her face lit up. “There’s a lot to do in the summer. Oh, but you won’t be going to temple events anymore.” She frowned.

  “No. Grandma Mary was going to teach me to paint, but I’m sure that won’t happen now.”

  “I always liked Mary.” Rebecca looked at him, and then grabbed his hand briefly. She looked down and caught sight of the scars on his arm. “Is that from the accident?”

  His heart skipped a beat. He nodded.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have asked that.”

  “You know about the accident?” The bright afternoon darkened.

  Her hand covered his scar. “Mom told me. I guess Artie told her.”

  If his grandfather had told them about it, he most likely hadn’t told them the truth, that it had been all his fault. That he had caused the accident. He’d killed his dad. He had looked away from the road for a second to check a text message and lost control of the car. He remembered it as clear as day.

  “I don’t remember much anyway,” he said. His dad had sat next to him in the passenger’s seat. His mom had been in the back. They’d been laughing about something, although he couldn’t remember what. He had a clear memory of that laughter.

  Rebecca stared into his eyes.

  “I only remember waking up in the hospital,” he said. “Mom’s arm was in a cast, and I was covered in bandages. I didn’t know what was going on. And then Mom said we were in a bad accident and Dad didn’t make it.” Dad didn’t make it. Michael’s skin chilled and his body went numb as the memory flooded over him. The words echoed over and over in an infinite loop. Nausea churned in his stomach and crept up his throat.

  His eyes watered and he looked away from Rebecca. He wasn’t going to cry in front of her, not in front of anyone.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “It’s okay. I was driving,” he said. “Dad was teaching me how to drive and I… lost control.”

  Rebecca stroked his arm, but he didn’t feel it. “I’m sorry about your dad. I’m sorry I upset you. Let’s get out in the sunshine before it rains.”

  Rebecca opened her car door.

  They climbed out and stood at the front of the car. A boat sat motionless at the far side of the lake, the occupant holding out a fishing rod and staring at the line in the water. Another boat sped through the middle of the lake. The water splashed against the shore. Clouds covered half the sky, and the sun slipped in and out of view.

  She pulled his hand and led him around the edge of the beach in silence. A group of black colored birds gathered in a tree near the edge of the lake. Most likely, the birds were crows by the way their beady black eyes locked onto him with laser-like precision. The Edgar Allen Poe poem “The Raven” popped into his mind. The crows shifted away from them as they strolled past, and one screeched out a piercing caw. “Nevermore” is what he heard.

  “I think it’s supposed to rain,” Rebecca said. “Look at those–”

  The ground rumbled. Rebecca gasped and her eyes locked onto his for a moment before staring down to the edge of the water in front of them. The soothing rhythm of the gentle waves broke into a rapid slosh.

  “Earthquake?” he asked.

  Rebecca nodded. “We’ve been getting more of them lately. The demons must be trying to get out again. Thank God the temple’s protecting us.”

  “Don’t believe everything that guy says. We get earthquakes all the time in Los Angeles.”

  “Minnesota doesn’t get them. Just in Stone Hill. Something’s not right.”

  The ground calmed. It wasn’t until the birds chirped again that Michael noticed they had stopped.

  Rebecca grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the edge of the dirt road where the beach began. “Let’s sit down.”

  Weeds infested the sandy beach he had once enjoyed on summer days years ago with Rebecca and his family.

  “Doesn’t anyone come down here anymore?” he asked.

  “Not that often. The temple built a new beach over there.” She pointed to the right. “But I thought this place would be better for us to relax and talk.”

  They sat on the ground beside each other. Rebecca talked about high school and her accomplishments over the last year. She’d won several awards on the track team, she was the pitcher for the softball team, and she’d won some award for the drama team by actin
g in a play.

  “You’ve been busy,” Michael said.

  “Pastor John keeps everyone very busy. It’s great. He organizes lots of stuff for the town.”

  So many things had changed in only five years.

  “There’s a big Fourth of July celebration coming up and the temple will have its third anniversary celebration on July 26th. That was fun last year. Maybe Pastor John will allow you to participate by then.”

  “I don’t want to go back,” Michael said. “I want to stay as far away from those people as possible.”

  Rebecca caught Michael looking at her white shirt and shorts. She dropped her head and took a deep breath. “We’re not bad people or anything.”

  “I’m not saying you’re bad at all. Just that he’s messing with your mind.”

  Rebecca leaned into him and ran her fingers over his cheek where Joey had slammed his fist into it. Her touch stung, and he recoiled.

  “Sorry,” she said. “Does it hurt?”

  “Just all the time.”

  “Sorry. Joey is a bully sometimes.”

  “He’s your boyfriend?”

  She shook her head. “We broke up months ago.”

  “He’d better not hit me again.”

  Darkness came early that evening as the approaching storm clouds blocked what would have been a crimson sunset as Rebecca drove Michael through town on their way home. They had spent the rest of the afternoon listening to music and laughing about the foolish things they’d done together years earlier. Rebecca had even purchased food for them at the grocery store after they’d left the lakeside, but now he was getting hungry again. The digital clock on the dashboard showed that the time was 7:45, way past the 6pm deadline his grandfather had given him.

  “Grandpa Artie’s going to be pissed,” Michael said. “I’m sure he’s out searching for me right now.”

  “My mom’s probably with him,” Rebecca said in a somber tone. “I haven’t stayed out this late for a long time.”

 

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