Get up, Elizabeth.
She sat up, gun in hand, pointed towards the room in an instant. “Who’s there?” she called out to the empty room. She had let voices coax her from bed before, but this was different. It wasn’t one she recognized, and it seemed to come from all around her.
After a few moments of silence, she let out the breath she had been holding, and eased the pistol’s hammer back into position. She was alone. Wherever the voice had come from, it had done the trick. She was up. It would be much later that day before she would hear it again.
Right now, as she sped towards the Old 278 Diner in her cruiser, voices from this morning were the last thing on her mind. The only voice she heard now was from dispatch. Delores. The only other female employed by the town’s police force.
“Suspect last seen headed west on Old Highway 278, driving a black motorcycle,” Delores’s voice called out, competing with the screaming sirens. There was more, but Elizabeth didn’t hear it.
She had been sitting on 278 for the last two hours, watching a sparse stream of traffic trickle by, but had she seen a motorcycle? No. She was certain of it. Which meant she was on course to come face-to-face with him.
She should have put the gas pedal to the floor, but instead her foot jammed hard on the brake, and she jerked the wheel to one side. The car turned ninety degrees as it screeched to a halt in a cloud of smoke and the smell of burnt rubber. Elizabeth’s hands held tight to the wheel as her car straddled the empty lanes of Highway 278, with the nose of her cruiser pointed straight at Route 31.
“Be sure of this, Lizzie,” she spoke aloud. It was more than just a gut feeling, every cell in her body was screaming. He had gone this way. No doubt. It was the only road between her and the diner, and she should have passed him by now.
Sure of herself, this time nothing stopped her foot from finding the floor with the gas pedal. The tires spun briefly before catching and the car lurched forward down Route 31.
It was a winding mountain road, with no other connections for miles and miles. He was going to be on it for a while, and she was going to catch him. She could already feel herself getting closer, but what she didn’t realize was she wasn’t so much chasing him as being pulled towards him.
“I repeat, Officer Cullard, please respond.” It was Delores, and Elizabeth had no idea how long she’d been calling for her. Keeping the car at top speed and under control while navigating the winding road had taken most of her attention. She slowed down just the tiniest bit and reached for the radio.
“Lizzie, where in the hell are you?!” The Chief. Her hand hesitated. She had hoped he wouldn’t notice her absence. Maybe she wasn’t as invisible as she thought, or maybe he noticed her missing when he needed someone to bring him coffee.
She grabbed the radio, and spoke hurriedly into it. “This is Officer Cullard. Currently headed north on Route 31 in pursuit of Old 278 Diner shooting suspect.”
“Nice of you to check in with us, Officer Cullard.” There had been an air of concern in Delores’s voice, but with the Chief it was pure condescension. “Since I don’t already have enough to deal with, could you explain what you’re doing on Route 31 when all available cars have been called to the diner?” There was not even a pause long enough for her to reply, but there was anger now starting to creep into his tone. “And while you’re at it, why don’t you tell us all why you’re searching there when the suspect was last seen on Highway 278?”
She could almost see the other officers listening in, wide grins on their faces. She wanted to reach through the radio and strangle every last one of them. She slowed the car down even further, fighting the urge to rip the radio from the car and toss it off the mountain.
“Sir, I was on 278 for the past two hours, and no motorcycle passed by me. Route 31 is the only road the suspect could have taken in between the diner and my position.” She released the mic before adding, “And the longer you keep me on the radio, the farther away he’s getting.”
“Izat right?” was the Chief’s matter-of-fact response. “So, when exactly were you planning on calling for backup, ma’am?”
Ma’am. Great. That meant more names were about to follow. She tried ignoring it and focused on the question. “I was waiting on visual confirmation of the suspect before calling in my location.”
“Well, tell me, missy, what did you plan on doing with the suspect while you waited on backup to arrive?”
“I hadn’t really thought about that, sir.”
“No, I didn’t think so. Honey, I’ve got three dead men here. One has his arm nearly torn from its socket and is missing the top of his head, another with a shotgun blast to the chest, and the third is missing half his neck and most of his blood. I’ve also got at least a dozen witnesses who can’t agree on whether our suspect is a man or a monster. So, you tell me what one little policewoman is going to do all by herself?”
Die a slow painful death? “I don’t know, Chief.”
“I am so glad to hear you say that,” he barked into the radio, “because I’m going to tell you what you’re going to do. You will stop right where you are, turn your car off, and sit your pretty little self in that squad car until I can get some backup to you. Do you understand me, Officer Cullard?”
“Affirmative,” she replied through gritted teeth.
“Ma’am, what’s affirmative is your ass is going to be in a sling if I still hear the wail of your sirens or roar of your engines the next time your voice comes over this radio. Now, is that understood?”
She flipped off the sirens and pulled her foot off the accelerator, before coldly replying, “Yes, sir.” She had barely released the button before slamming her foot to the floor again. The engine raced, drowning out the Chief’s parting remarks. Her mind already back on the road, she only caught a few snippets of ‘right decision’ and ‘what would her father say’. She answered him with her middle finger. She knew exactly what her father would say. Why had she stayed in this tiny town with no future?
It was a question he had asked her while he was alive, and she still heard it nearly every day since his death, echoing in her head. She had no idea why she stayed. Because she had been born here? Because both her parents had died here? They were good reasons, but neither was right. She could no more explain her attachment to this town than the force now pulling her faster and faster down Route 31 towards …
Elizabeth.
She reached down and turned off the radio, already aware it wasn’t the source of the voice. Her father had been the only one to ever call her Elizabeth, and that was certainly not his voice. She did recognize it though, but couldn’t quite place it.
Elizabeth.
It was coming from all around her. The car swerved a little as she turned to glance in the back seat. She was alone. Her knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel and her whole body was starting to ache. She rounded a sharp curve, and there on the narrow shoulder, she saw him.
Black motorcycle. Man leaning against it, as if waiting for her. His jacket was open, exposing a crimson stained shirt underneath, and his expression was impossible to read through the dried blood masking the lower half of his face. It was his voice. She was sure of it. Just as sure as she was that his mouth didn’t move when she heard it again.
Stop.
She obeyed. What other choice was there, really? Her foot jammed the brake to the floorboard as she turned the wheel, swinging the car around. Gravity strained against inertia to keep all four wheels on the ground, eventually winning out as the car came to a stop directly in front of man and motorcycle.
Before the dust had a chance to settle, she threw her door open and pulled her gun from its holster in one fluid motion. Using the door for cover, she aimed the barrel at his head and commanded, “Freeze!”
She almost laughed aloud. She had yet to see him move even a single muscle. Not even a raised eyebrow. For all she knew he could be dead. He was certainly pale enough.
; The Chief’s words ran through her head. Was this statue of a man the same one who had just brutally murdered three people? What was she thinking? She couldn’t keep him like this until backup arrived. Whenever that might be. Not to mention his constant stare was making her feel uneasy. Fortunately, there was an easy fix for that.
“Put your hands up,” she called out, “and lie down flat on the ground.” She thought she saw the edges of his mouth twitch. Was that a smile?
“Now!” she yelled, pulling back the hammer on her pistol for emphasis. Even the wind died, leaving a thick, silent stillness between them neither was willing to break. The adrenaline in her system beginning to wane, she could feel fatigue in her arms from gripping the wheel, and holding her gun steady was soon going to be a problem. She needed to get him on the ground. She readied another threat when, in the space of a blink, he was on his knees with his hands behind his head. She barely managed not shoot him. Next time she would specify he moved slowly.
She rose up from behind the cover of the cruiser’s door, but kept the gun and her eyes levelled at him. The same sort of tired stiffness radiated through her legs as she stepped away from the car. Just how much of a strain had she been under?
She reached back on her belt to retrieve her handcuffs, hoping she could keep the gun steady with only one hand. She could put them on him as he was, but she really wanted him face-down. Seeing that blood-stained jaw was bad enough, but somehow his calm, dark eyes were even worse. Besides, she had given him an order.
“I said lie down,” she repeated, then added, “slowly!” He did smile then, and she swore she saw too many pointed teeth.
“Why don’t you come closer, Officer Cullard?” he suggested, smile firmly in place, but teeth hidden behind his lips.
How did he know her name? Preoccupied with the question, she took several steps towards him before even realizing it.
What was she doing, she wondered as she stared down at her feet in shock. The fatigue and soreness in her limbs immediately fell away, as did a fog in her head she hadn’t even realized was there. Everything suddenly screamed at her for taking her eyes off of him. Her head shot back up and their eyes again locked. The renewed strength and clarity she had gained began to fade. She had no idea what was happening to her, but she knew it was only a matter of time before he made another suggestion. Would she be able to stop herself from obeying?
Time. How much time had passed? How far away was her backup? The radio. She needed to get to the radio. The thought gave her purpose and strength enough to move back towards her car.
She dropped the cuffs on the seat, and reached inside the car, fingers searching for the radio mic. Her eyes remained fixed on his, but was it because she was unwilling or unable to look away from him again?
She pushed the strange thought aside as her fingers touched the coiled cord of her radio. There was no feeling of relief though as she discovered the mic wasn’t hanging on its cradle, and she felt only firm resistance when she tried tugging on the cord. Her wild maneuvers had wedged it solidly somewhere under the passenger seat. She would have to look away from him to recover it. That was when she realized she couldn’t look away.
His eyes were more than just dark now, they were black. Entirely. They pulled on her own eyes, refusing to let them go. If she’d been able to see anything else, she would have noticed his smile broaden and those pointed teeth revealed.
“Why don’t you come closer.” It sounded much less like a suggestion this time. His voice filled her head, the command echoing and repeating over itself, blocking out even her own thoughts. The gun was too heavy to hold anymore, and dragged her arm down to her side. Then her feet began shuffling away from the car, taking her towards him. Any protest she tried to mount was drowned by his voice.
“That’s it,” he said. “Now, come to me, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth. Her full name, again. So strange to hear it, yet something about it was so familiar. She grasped on to that one thought, her thought, forcing herself to focus on it, until finally she recognized it. It was the same voice that had pulled her from bed this morning. The memory loosened his grip on her, giving her just one chance. She raised her gun and fired.
The gunshot shook her awake, breaking his hold on her, and she dove into her car. She scrambled for the mic cord, hoping the bullet had hit its target and bought her some time. She tugged frantically on the cord until it came shooting out from under the seat and crashed into the dash.
“No, no, no,” she mumbled. Something inside rattled when she picked it up, and when she pressed the transmit button, it disappeared inside the case. Damn. She dropped it back to the floor, and raised her gun. “Looks like it’s just you and me now,” she said to her sidearm. She just hoped she could hold out until backup arrived.
She slowly peered over the dash, looking for the blood-stained man. He was nowhere in sight, which was lucky for him. She wouldn’t give him another chance to snare her. Shoot first, ask questions later, she had decided. She stepped out of the car onto the quiet road, gun pointed towards the sky, which is how she lost it.
“You won’t be needing this,” he said, casually plucking the firearm from her hands before she noticed him sitting on the roof of the car. She watched, helpless, as it tumbled end-over-end far down the road.
For a few moments all she could do was look from her empty hands to the spot she had seen her gun disappear into a ditch, and back again. How had she let this happen? Where had she lost control and everything gone so wrong? Just don’t look at his eyes, she told herself, marking that as the point when things had started going downhill.
She could already feel her eyes being drawn back to his, but managed to stop them when they reached his chest. She might still have a chance, if she could just reach her nightstick. Her hand slid towards the side of her belt, but froze when her eyes locked on a red-ringed hole in his shirt, near the middle of his chest.
It wasn’t there before. She was sure of it. It was roughly the same size hole one of her bullets would make, and underneath she could see pale, unbroken skin. Her hand drifted towards the hole. She wanted, almost needed, to touch it, feel for herself.
“It’s time for us to go now, Elizabeth,” he said, stopping her hand with his own.
Her breath caught in her throat. There was her name again, though she barely heard it, her eyes fixed on their hands. His touch. Something about it stirred her blood, but it wasn’t love or lust, both of which she was familiar with. This was something else entirely, and all she knew was she needed to be closer to him.
“Is it?” she asked, as she let herself be pulled towards him, unable now to stop her eyes from meeting his. They were still completely black, and captured her instantly.
“Yes,” he answered, “but there’s one thing you must do first.”
“What’s that?” she asked, her voice sounded very small in her head.
“You have to die.”
Chapter Six
So far there had been three dragons slain, four epic swordfights, and two very thankful damsels in distress rescued, and it was barely past noon. Still breathing heavily from the last fight, which had stretched over many hills, the two boys collapsed onto the sunny side of a gentle slope. The thick woods made it nearly impossible to gauge their progress, but they both felt like they were getting closer to the castle.
“Looks like we may get wet tonight,” Samuel said, indicating the far horizon. Braughton leaned up, noted the dark patch of sky, and nodded his agreement. Truthfully though, he barely noticed. His mind was already at the castle, imagining what they might discover there. He was also beginning to have a seed of doubt about how easily he had managed to get here.
He had never been able to get anything past Grandmother, yet here he was on a trip which she would have never approved. He had simply said he wanted to spend a few days with Samuel, and she had agreed without another word. She hadn’t asked what they would be doing, or where they would be going,
so there was no need to lie to her, but not telling her still felt like lying.
Why did he feel so guilty? It wasn’t like Grandmother wasn’t keeping her own secrets. That was, in fact, one of the reasons he wanted to make this trip. The night he was thinking of was nearly two years ago, but the memory was still clear in Braughton’s mind.
He had awakened to the sound of approaching horses. Late night visits from villagers was nothing new, but this was later than usual, and there were several riders. Even the knock on the door was different, not the light hesitant inquiry, but a rapid, demanding pound.
“We’ve come for it, witch,” the voice announced as soon as the door opened. So, it was regular business, Braughton thought, until Grandmother replied.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific, Overseer,” the sweetness layered too thickly to be genuine.
Braughton sat up when he heard it. Overseer. One of the Baron’s men, here at their home, demanding something?
“The boy,” the Overseer hissed. “My master wishes to see him.” Braughton was frozen. Was he ‘the boy’?
“My Grandson?” she replied with a slight laugh. ”He’s just a boy,” she assured him. “What could the Baron possibly want with him? I have many other things here that would be of much more use to him. Perhaps some skin cream?” she offered.
“I only do my master’s bidding; I don’t ask questions.” The sound of a sword leaving its sheath was unmistakable, and Braughton hardly dared to breathe. “Now, are you going to bring him to us, or do we have to come in and get him?” Where could he hide? The room was empty, save for his bed and a small dresser, with no way out that didn’t lead straight to the front door.
“No,” Grandmother replied, “I don’t care for either of those options.” Braughton could almost see the small smile on her face. “You will tell your master that if he wishes to take the boy, then he will come retrieve him himself.”
Shackles of Sunlight Page 4