Chasing Shadows

by Liana Hakes-Rucker

  "Yeah it’s a place."

  I nod which hurts. "I should have Googled you. I don't know why I didn't. Busy watching Zombieland I guess."

  Evan shakes his head. "So tell me how you knew the dark room was in the basement of Luis Finch's ex-boss's ex-wife's apartment building."

  I blink clearing some tears. I'd laugh but it hurts. "You're not going to believe me. You'll just hit me some more. What's my motivation?"

  Evan glowers but there's a sparkle in his eyes. He crosses behind me. I hear him rustling around back there. I crane to see him but it’s useless. After a long, long second I feel his breath on my arm. Sturgis reaches his right hand around the pole and grabs my rib cage where he hit me. Ow. He applies extra pressure as he moves his hand down along my hip. He reaches in and wedges his fingers between my thighs. With a jerking motion he forces them apart. His breathing is ragged. I stare at the air ducts. This hurts, and it sucks but it’s not like I wasn't expecting it. His huge man hand cups my twat and he massages lightly. This would be more bearable if he hadn't just kicked the shit out of me there. I make some involuntary noise of pain and stare hard at the metal duct work. Evan applies more pressure, moving his fingers in sequence like he’s playing a piano. Fuck the pain is sharp and achy at the same time. I wonder if he practices this.

  His breath comes faster against my arm. If I turned my head I might be able to see his face around it. Now he moves slowly. His body is making contact with the pole, and with my strung up self. I feel the soft weave of his polo shirt rub across my arm pit and rib cage. Evan’s face is right in mine now and I'm still not looking at him. I'm looking up, up, up to the ceiling. With a thrust he jams his right hip and thigh between my legs. I feel his hip bone, it’s sharp. My legs won't spread that far because they're tied together and to the pole. He removes his right hand from my twat and clutches my thigh pulling it up so I straddle him. It feels like my foot is about to be ripped off at the ankle. He rams his hip between my legs, really putting his weight behind it. I notice two things. One: Sturgis is using his right hand when before he hit me with his left. Does this mean he's ambidextrous, or that he's doing something else with his left hand? Two: Sturgis does not have a stiffy. Interesting. Now his hand moves up to my left breast and I understand why he left the bra on, even if he doesn’t. He grabs that thing like its money and squeezes hard. This drives the under wire deep into my flesh. I think he might slice it off this way. That is if he doesn’t pull it off first. Is this anything like a mammogram? I’m whimpering, fuck, are you kidding me? I feel betrayed by my sissy, stupid voice box. A few more seconds of this and he releases my boob. I can feel bruises forming.

  Sturgis is breathing in my face. He’s moved his head forward so I can’t see above him or around him. His breath smells like ass. Did he do that on purpose? Did he plan on messing me up, and decide not to brush his teeth for a couple of days before hand just to add to the revulsion? I pick a spot on his forehead. I’m not meeting his eyes.

  “Look at me.” He growls.

  “Fuck you.” I growl back. Evan slams his hand into my oblique... Funny, that I should think of it as an oblique at a time like this. His fingers start to dig in. I think he’s going to take a chunk out of me. He ducks his head as if to kiss me, bite more likely. This gives me an idea, and before I have time to analyze it, I bend my head and dig my teeth into his neck, right where his jaw connects. He screams, angry and surprised. I hold on. I picture myself a pit bull with a jaw that locks. There’s no way I’m letting loose of this son of a bitch. I taste blood and sweat, but then my blood was already pooling in my mouth. Flash: what if he has AIDS? Fuck it. What are my chances of living through tonight anyway?

  Sturgis is pummeling me now, trying to get me to release him. He’s not saying anything just, slam, slam, slam against my ribs and stomach, my head and neck. I hear hot air escape through my bleeding nose with every strike. I’d feel better if he was yelling. He still seems in control. I imagine he could just pull back but then he must figure I’d take a chunk out of his neck if he did. Eventually he presses into me. What’s he thinking? His meaty, hairy neck rams into my battered face. I tighten my jaw and move my head a bit from side to side. I taste his raw flesh. I could literally eat some of him right now if I wanted to. Too late, I realize his strategy. He’s trying to suffocate me. It’s working. I wait a beat to try and figure a way out of it. If I could move my right leg maybe I could ram his nuts but I’m already stretched to the limits of the zip ties. Well fuck. I relax my hold and jerk my head to the side so I can breathe. As soon as my teeth are out of his throat, Sturgis staggers back holding his breath.

  “Goddamn bitch!” He growls. Now I can see his hands. In his left hand he’s holding a baseball bat. Delightful, riddle solved. I wonder how many times he can hit me with that before I die. “You tell me right now how you found that dark room, or I’m gonna break every bone in your body before I let you die.”

  “I followed a ghost.” Whoa, where’d that come from? How is following a ghost more believable that following an invisible bird? Evan’s expression is strange. His anger has just evaporated. Maybe I’m onto something. Not that I think he’s going to let me live, but I might get a few minutes out of it. “I saw Kelly.” I blurt, blood slides down my face and lands on my collar bone. “I didn’t know that was her name at the time, but I saw a girl just like me with flaming red hair. She was naked, and soaking wet, and she had bruise marks on her neck. I’ve been following Kelly’s ghost.” See? I can lie. Sturgis turns pale. “Did you strangle her?”

  His lip is trembling. “She told me to.” He whispers. I don’t believe him. I don’t think he believes himself, but I think he wants to. “She begged me to choke her while we did it. We were at a party. There were lots of girls there. Mads was blowing some guy who owns a software company.” He meets my eyes, pleading. “See? I’m not a bad guy. They’re not worth my life, either of ‘em. I don’t deserve this, what you’ve done. After that I tried to get Mads to quit whoring. I loved her.” I believe he thinks I should feel sorry for him. He obviously feels sorry for himself. I picture the hard on he had while he was killing Mads, and form my own idea of what happened to Kelly. “I wanted us to settle down. She...” He breaks eye contact. His voice lowers. “I busted her. I just wanted her to stop, but then she was going to the paper. I can’t go to jail.”

  I sigh, and the pain this causes reminds me that this douche bag is going to kill me. “You did Luis.”

  He hefts the bat like he’s weighing it. “Had to.”

  I grit my teeth. “One thing just kind of leads to another doesn’t it?” I lick something solid from my left eye tooth. Probably some of him.

  Sturgis lifts the bat like a professional. “I tried to warn you.”

  I laugh. “The spade? That was too cheesy for words. How am I going to take a garden tool seriously?”

  He does a practice swing and steps closer. “Why’d you come to the bar? You’ve been dogging me every day. Why’d you have to chase me down where I relax? I need to relax.”

  I spit out some blood and it lands on my bra. “Followed the ghost." I say dryly. “Had no idea you’d be there. If I’m dogging you, it’s because Kelly is dogging you.”

  Sturgis shakes his head. “You are full of shit, Meegan Jones.” And he swings. I pull my head left and twist my body around the pole as much as I can. The bat makes contact with my right arm. I scream... and scream... Holy shit! Holy fuck! Oh my God, that hurts! I’m sobbing. The dim room is a blur through my tears. “Goddamn it, you stupid bitch!” Sturgis screams at me. “Hold still! I’m being merciful! I was trying to kill you quickly!” He stomps around in a little circle, looking for all the world like a giant, evil six year old. “I didn’t mean to break your arm, you little whore. You think this is fun for me? This is a fucking nightmare.” He stops and looks at me. “Now hold still this time.” He sucks in a breath and straightens his spine. He’s crazy.

  I feel death coming. I look at the air ducts like I
promised myself I would. What’s that? I blink rapidly trying to clear my eyes. Is that a shade? “Please!” I beg. “If you care about me at all, I want to live.”

  Sturgis thinks I’m talking to him. “Why would I care about you?” He scoffs. “You ruined my life.” With that he sets his jaw and raises the bat. Is that a squeak I hear or am I making it up? He winds up to swing.

  I close my eyes. There comes this horrible screech followed by a clang and a loud floppy thud. Did he hit me? Am I dead? Is that the sound death makes? Kind of complicated rhythmically. I wait a few seconds and open my eyes. Well, I suppose that is the sound death makes for Evan Sturgis. I giggle. The air duct has come down. I know those things aren’t very heavy but it hit him just right. I laugh louder. I’m so relieved. The corner of the joint looks like it’s embedded in Evan’s eye. A huge pool of blood has already formed. You know how a head wound is, bleeds like a mother fucker. I take some shallow breaths.

  Yes that is a shade. I’m so happy to see it. I grin, it hurts but I keep grinning. The shade is a deep, smoky black. It’s misting right by Evan’s head. It’s sending little tendrils of smoke downward. What is it doing? I love it, whatever its doing. I love, love, love you. I think at it. The billowy shape of black grows fuller, and spreads out, settling into the pool of blood.

  “Huh.” Knock yourself out, I think. It lays flat now, and I can’t even see any light reflecting off of the blood. The shade seems to be boiling slowly. It turns over on itself again and again. A minute ago it was all ethereal and smoky. Now it looks more like pudding... Now like wet cement. I can see blood pooling on its surface and pouring back off as it rotates in the air. The shade isn’t black anymore either. It’s lightening and solidifying. It’s absorbing the blood.

  I hang here on my pillar. The zip ties cut into my wrists and the horrible pains in my body make everything seem like a dream. I hang here and watch in stunned and silent disbelief, as what was a familiar vapor slowly becomes a tiny human shaped figure in shades of gray. I say human shaped, because it’s certainly not human. The face is all wrong. Big, big eyes like moons dominate a tiny head no larger than a cantaloupe. It has a spritely little person’s body, the size of a spider monkey, hairless, muscles like delicate ropes, big hands and feet, not as big as mine, but large on its frame.

  The creature seems amazed at itself. It takes a huge breath, which dramatically expands its little chest. It shifts, sitting with its legs extended in the blood. I can see now that it is a he. He stares at his hands and grins. The sight causes me to gasp. His smile curves in a big C shape from just under one enormous eye, down to his chin and back up to the other eye. His teeth are pointy. Its all eyes and mouth, creepy.

  Now he looks up at me and jumps to his feet. He’s coated in blood and slime. He scurries, moving fast as a cockroach, to my side. I stare down at him as he disappears behind the pole. I feel some tiny vibrations. I believe he’s climbing up. I listen for any noises he might make, but all I can hear is my own labored and liquid breathing.

  “Thanks.” I gurgle, and now I yelp. He’s poked his head around my unbroken arm. His face is only inches from mine. It looks more flesh toned up close. Well, from what I can tell through the layer of Evan’s blood. He grips my underarm, which is turned out due to my splendid hanging position, and he moves his feet so they rest against my side just below my left boob. The pressure they make is excruciating. I whimper. The sound makes him start. He looks down. A horrified expression crosses his tiny face, making his mouth appear to shrink as his eyes expand taking over his countenance. He has a nose but it’s utterly unremarkable.

  “Cute button nose.” I whisper.

  He grins and releases his grip dropping to the ground at my feet. This is crazy. Am I making this up? The creature tilts his head back like a book cover and opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out flat. I’m confused at this. I bend my head forward to get a better look, and a glob of blood and snot drops from my mouth. It lands on his outstretched tongue. He sucks it in, quick like a bunny, and swallows loud: Gallump. And that’s it for me. I pass clean out.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Pain. Sharp, dull, throbbing, stabbing, aching, shooting; you name it, I've got it. So far I haven't managed to open my eyes, but I can tell someone must have moved me because I feel my arms at my sides. I wouldn't swear to it, but I believe I'm lying on my back. I've been lying like this for ten seconds. I've been lying like this for two weeks, who can tell? I know I'm in a lighted room by the bright red of the world through my eyelids. There is a heavy shifting weight on my chest. It moves left, to right, to left, to right. Every time it moves left, I feel the bruising on my left boob. I have no idea what's prompting this shifting weight, but it sure is annoying the hell out of me. Like I'm not in enough pain without some dumb whatever... I'm pretty angry about it.

  I exhale loudly, and make some involuntary grimace, as my ribs scream up at me. Grimacing hurts my mouth and nose. I go to move my head, and my upper arm gives me agony. I shift my leg and my crotch throbs. Hot tears stream down my face. I blink them away.

  Ah, there's the problem. The little gray guy, who is incidentally not gray anymore, is crouched on my chest. He's rocking rhythmically back and forth. As I stare at him, his big saucer eyes blink dramatically. Get off me, I think at him... Nothing.

  "Get off." I whisper. The little guy gingerly steps to his right, my left and sits down on the pillow by my head. He rests his knobby hand on my forehead and continues to stare. I breathe slowly, evenly. He strokes my hair. I close my eyes. When I open them again, the little creature is curled up next to my face and there's a big, dark, person-shaped shadow looming left over both of us. I raise my sights without moving my head. Is that a real person? It shifts like a leaf in the wind.

  "Eh hem." says a voice somewhere to my right.

  I turn my eyes, moving my head only slightly. It makes me wince but not that bad. I blink a few times, before I can place them. "Officers Burns and Clark." I say but my voice comes out a crackle.

  "Miss Jones." Says Officer Burns.

  I smile, which hurts. "I'm in trouble again?" Its so weird laying here with everyone looming over me, two Officers to my right and two shades to my left. I feel vulnerable. I don't like it. I'm acutely aware of the pain in my hoo ha. I hear the sound of wings, and snap my head towards it. "Ah fuck." I whine. That hurt.

  "You should try to lie still." Officer Clark says.

  I look to the left... nothing. Well, the shadow man is gone. The tiny dude is still curled up by my head. "What do you want?" I croak.

  "To ask you a few questions." Burns says in a steely voice.

  Why does this woman hate me? "Do we have to do this now?"

  "The sooner, the better. We found you with the body of a dead police Officer."

  I roll my eyes. "Let me guess, you think I did it." Burns just stares at me.

  Officer Clark seems increasingly uncomfortable. "We know you didn't kill Harley." He bursts out. "It was clearly an accident, although for you it was a very lucky accident. We just need to find out what happened before he died."

  I take a couple of slow breaths and turn to the tiny creature. "Yes. It was lucky." That's what I'll call you, I think at him, Luck. I don't know if he hears my thoughts, but he grins that big, creepy grin at me none the less. I turn back to the officers. "How did I get here?"

  "Playing amnesiac again?" Burns counters.

  I groan. "Get a life, Burns. I remember passing out tied to a pole. I remember everything you want to know. I just don't know how I got to a hospital. This is a hospital isn't it? I haven't seen any doctors."

  "They've seen you." Clark smiles kindly.

  I smile back weakly. "So, will you tell me?" I'm pleading with my eyes, but I don't know if its gonna come off that way as I'm guessing I'm pretty banged up.

  Clark maintains eye contact. "Officer Burns thought your behavior at the bar was strange."

  Burns snorts.

  Clark tries not to smile. "We paid our
tab and came out to follow you, but you were gone."

  Burns nods. "I noticed Sturgis watching you, and I saw your reaction to him but we didn't have any reason to suspect him of anything at the time."

  Now I snort, which hurts, so I wince, totally ruining the effect.

  Burns glares at me. "If you had been more forthcoming during any of our previous conversations, we would've known to watch Sturgis."

  I bat my eyelashes like I have no idea what she means.

  "So." Burns continues "How did you find the darkroom?"

  "Why does it keep coming back to the darkroom? Fuck the darkroom." Luck chooses this moment to creep quietly down to the foot of the bed. Now I can see all three of them. If the police Officers can see my new friend, they make no sign of it. I guess I spend several seconds too long staring at the little guy, because Burns clears her throat expectantly. I look at her. "So how did you find me?" Burns crosses her arms.

  Clark hinges his thumbs into his belt loops and looks squarely at me. "Your friend called in some information."

  "Friend?"

  "Mr. Schuyler Mills."

  "Actually, it was Grey." Burns corrects.

  "Grey?"

  "You don't know Schuyler's father?" Demands Burns, suspicion clear in her voice.

  I sigh and wince with the pain, closing my eyes for a second. When I open them, Luck is chewing his nails. He looks worried. "I always call him Mr. Mills." Luck breathes a sigh of relief.

  Clark nods like this is right. "They brought a photo from the darkroom we found. Schuyler said you had reason to believe Harley was involved with Luis Finch."

  Now I'm glaring. "He killed Luis and Madeline." I grumble. "What're you afraid to admit it?"

  Burns's shoulders visibly stiffen. "How do you know that Miss Jones?"

  I groan. "He told me so." My memory is snapped back to Evan's rationalizing, rambling confession. I can hear Burns is still saying something but I can't tell, and don't care what.

  The pain is rolling over me in waves now. I look desperately down towards my feet. I see Luck down there. Man, he needs some clothes. I feel so sorry for him. He's naked, and he obviously doesn't know anybody or else why would he be sticking with me? Big, fat tears trickle over my swollen face, some for Luck and some for me. Luck blinks and gives a wry kind of smile, so different from the grins at the murder scene. He looks like he's speaking now. I can just make out a few tiny syllables, but Officer Burns is still talking. She's drowning him out and I hate her for it. I look hard at Luck, desperately trying to hear. His fingers twitch in time with his words. Maybe it's not English... And now he stops. His mouth closes with some finality and I feel... better. I feel a little better. I smile and begin to breathe more easily.