Dark Daze

by Ava Delany

  Sleeping Beauty,

  Gone for a walk with Buster. Be back soon.

  Ian

  He grabbed a baggy and called for Buster.

  “Want to go for a walk boy?”

  Buster wagged his tail at the speed of light as he fell into step at Ian’s left side. They stepped over the threshold and down the porch where Buster went straight to the trashcans and began to sniff. Ian moved closer as well, wanting to get a look at the lids, and see if he could still use any of them. His gaze moved to the spot where he’d imagined the creature. Just trees of course, but tingles ran the length of his spine nonetheless.

  He grabbed one of the lids. Five wide claw marks marred the lid. Did bears have five claws? He wasn’t an expert.

  He looked into the cans. The bear hadn’t strewn garbage around the rocky ground. The trash hadn’t been touched. Even if the bear hadn’t returned, why wouldn’t a raccoon—or even just a squirrel or two—come for the tasty dinner?

  Because they were afraid of the thing in the trees too.

  No. None of those foolish thoughts this morning. He was not a child anymore. He replaced the lids, mangled though they were, and took Buster for his walk.

  <><><>

  Ian picked up the long pruning shear and clipped a branch from the half-dead tree. After an anything but idle day in bed with Brie, the last thing he wanted to do was trim the tree, which had loudly dropped a branch in front of his house less than an hour earlier. The setting sun painted the sky shades of orange and yellow. Brie watched from the doorway, sipping lemonade.

  “You should always prune your trees in the beginning of winter, just before the snow comes, because a dead tree could fall on your house.” She smirked, obviously enjoying the sight of him bungling what might have been an easy job for a gardener. “You want to keep those roots firmly in the ground.”

  “Ha ha.” He closed the clippers hard and jumped to avoid the branch as it fell in an unexpected direction. It slammed down on his foot. Muttering, he picked up the offending tree branch and tossed it to the ground by the trashcans.

  She laughed. “Perhaps you should just have some lemonade and hire a gardener.”

  He glanced over at her and tilted his head.

  “No one likes a smarty.” He started stacking the branches into a pile. With all the wood gathered, he called Buster into the house.

  Buster, who’d been snuffling intently at the growing pile of wood, took one last long sniff and turned toward the house.

  “Did you find an interesting bug?” She patted the dog’s head, then continued inside the house. “You keep having your fun spoiled today, don’t you? And with us spending the day all locked up, too. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about him.” Ian shut the door then put his arms around her waist. “We’ll go on an extra long walk tomorrow, and he’ll be just fine.”

  He kissed her, a soft peck. She smelled so incredible, he nearly drew her right back into the bedroom. A flashing light drew his attention toward the i-com port’s monitor, and he shuffled her toward the side table and hit the keyboard’s space bar to start the V.R. program.

  “You have eleven messages.”

  Ian kissed Brie’s neck. “Go on vacation, even for a day, and look what happens.”

  The machine voice told him, “The first message is from your mother at nine fifty-five a.m.”

  His mother’s voice rang out from the speaker. “Ian? Boy-o? Are you there?”

  He frowned. The nickname always made him feel like a child. She said she’d try him later and then ordered the disconnect.

  “The second message is from Mandy Knight at twelve oh five p.m.”

  “Paul told me about the last date. I kept telling him she wasn’t for you, but we have a friend who is. Did Paul tell you all about our friend Brie? I know she called you. She said you made a date, but she wouldn’t say anything else, and Paul said he couldn’t violate the guy code. Stupid guy code.” Mandy paused for a second, and Brie put her arms around Ian’s waist from behind. “Anyhow, call me when you get this. And don’t let her name scare you off. She had new age parents. I mean…but she’s brilliant. A little unusual, but so brilliant. Call me, and I’ll give you all the details.”

  “‘A little unusual’ means crazy. You’d have probably thought I talked to inanimate objects, or wore underwear with my name sewn into the band.” Brie laughed. “Or flipped into the minds of other people.”

  “Oh, Mandy’s just determined to set me up.” He turned in her embrace. “She’s either real concerned about the state of the nuclear family, or she’s some sort of evil genius with nefarious plans. We may never know.”

  The image of Paul, the mindless marriage robot, made him smile as the robotic voice gave the time for the next call, twelve thirty-two. The third message made him roll his eyes. Once again, his mother reminded him he’d agreed to come for a visit this weekend. Judging by the dejected tone in her voice, he never visited her, but he’d just gone for dinner last Sunday. He stopped by every weekend for the same Sunday dinner they’d had since he was a boy.

  “The fourth message,” the disembodied voice of the machine told him, “is from…error, the caller is unidentifiable…at four forty p.m.” He glanced at his watch, Five o’clock. Strange, he hadn’t heard the i-com ring while he gardened. And why didn’t the voice recognition program recognize the caller? It had never failed before. What else was it good for? Ian released Brie and turned toward the machine.

  The message sounded like a man with a bad cold clearing the phlegm from his throat. He skipped to the next. Every two minutes seemed to be a raspy wheeze or a thick, gurgling sound. Message nine was a long sniff, which sent a tingle down his spine. He crossed the room and locked the deadbolt on the front door.

  “What is that?” Brie rubbed her hands over her arms as she backed away from the i-com port.

  The night before came to his mind with a jerk as he listened to message ten. The deep throaty growl didn’t sound anything like a bear. His i-com rang. The island music emanating from the speaker startled him and he yanked it off the port and almost threw it. His i-com rang again.

  Wouldn’t Paul get a kick out of his most recent behavior? If his friend heard, the torment would never end.

  “Another foolish moment.” Ian smiled at Brie. “A bear can’t use an i-com. Not even a circus bear. It must be a prankster on the V.R.”

  She chuckled, but her shoulders were tense and her eyes didn’t leave the monitor.

  He looked at the call ID box, but it didn’t tell him who the caller was. He hadn’t intended to take any calls unless he recognized the caller, but his thumb seemed to push the button of its own will.

  He paused. “Hello?”

  Scraping startled him, like a sharp object raking glass. Buster barked. He glanced at Brie, who grabbed the table, her eyebrows raised in alarm. His gaze shot to the window where the sounds seemed to come from and an instant later the sound—both the scraping and the barks— repeated in the i-com next to his ear.

  <>

  Ian dropped the i-com, and a sound, either a growl or a laugh, came from outside the window. Brie’s heart pounded. The spot in her head started to tingle, and she held tight to the table as if it would ground her. Keep her from flipping.

  Ian rushed to the closet and threw the door open. Grabbing a gun out of a box on the shelf, he held it toward the window where Buster stood on guard in case of attack. She picked up the i-com and pushed the speed dial number for the local police.

  “Officer Hanson, here. What is the trouble?”

  “We received a threatening call, and we believe the person is outside of the house.”

  She gave him the address and heard Hanson call over two officers and tell them to check out the house.

  “What threats did the caller make?”

  “Well, they didn’t exactly say anything. They just growled, or laughed maybe, and scratched at the windows.”

  “Sounds like it’s just a couple of
kids messing around. I wouldn’t worry too much. The officers will be there soon, and if they find anyone, they will take care of it. Meanwhile, just sit tight in your house and wait.”

  The officer disconnected before Brie had a chance to speak again. Ian held the gun trained on the window. His skin took on a bluish hue then faded to normal. Brie covered her gasp. This must be his gift.

  Goosebumps rose on her arms.

  Buster sniffed and growled. He crept toward the door, as if keeping pace with something outside, and then barked once when he reached it. A sound beyond the wood, as though a claw screeched down its length, made Brie jump back.

  “Oh God.” Her voice wouldn’t rise above a whisper and her lungs locked closed, as if her breath were hiding in her chest. “What’s going on out there?”

  Ian stepped closer to her, gun steady. The long sniffing outside the door made her shake.

  Brie’s heart pounded. Thundered. Sweat beaded on her skin. Beside her, Ian gripped the gun in both hands, shaking as well. A low alien growl, almost like a liquid gurgle, emanated from behind the door. Then the wood started splitting and cracking under the force of some unseen attack.

  ”Buster!”

  The dog barked wildly and ran with them into the exercise room at the back of the house. Ian locked the door, and pushed the heavy treadmill in front of it for extra support. Brie tried to help, pushing at the machine.

  Ian braced the gun with his left hand. Buster jumped up on the treadmill and placed his nose to the crack between the door and the machine.

  Brie backed away from where Ian stood, his thumb resting against a tiny button on the handle of the gun and his finger over the trigger. Just one simple movement would send a bullet into the intruder. But it was his skin she couldn’t stop staring at. Now glowing blue, it began to crackle. The hair on the back of her neck stood in response.

  Something sniffed at them from beyond the window. Buster jumped over the treadmill, an impressive leap, and ran to the sound.

  The shrieking glass, raked by unseen claws, grated her nerves, like fingernails on a chalkboard. She shuddered as Ian turned the gun, putting himself between her and the threat. She didn’t dare pull up the blinds, so she stayed next to Ian.

  “Listen, whoever you are. I have a .45, and I know how to use it. Unless you want a few extra holes in your body, I suggest you leave. Now!” When he finished yelling the words, a car door slammed.

  “This is the police, open up.”

  Brie sighed and helped Ian push the treadmill away from the exit.

  “Just around back, it might still be there,” he yelled as he cleared the doorway.

  The clamoring cops made more noise than the thing had, while they searched the area around the house. It would certainly escape since they announced their every move.

  Brie opened the door to the exercise room and leaned against the jamb, trying not to rub her arms. Ian put the gun back in his closet before stepping through the entryway. She followed him to inspect the pile of wood chips, most of it nearly sawdust, on the threshold. The solid mahogany had been clawed to the thickness of a pane of glass. The cops came to the porch, gaping at the door with what might have been fascination.

  “I’m Officer Langley.” The tall, overly tanned cop pointed at himself, then to his partner, a middle-aged balding man. “This is Officer Dunstan. You’re the home owner?”

  Ian nodded. “Thank you for coming, officers.”

  “Sign here.” Langley handed Ian a report.

  “What you need is animal control. Looks like a bear to me.” Officer Dunstan hitched his belt over his belly.

  “We saw some trash can lids shredded over there.” Langley pointed his flashlight toward the ruined trashcans. “A bear is likely your culprit.”

  “How do you explain the calls, officer? We received several unusual calls.” Brie walked to the port and pressed the space bar to restart the V.R. program.

  They listened to the messages.

  “We took the last call.” Ian told them the story up until the moment they’d heard the car door, omitting the gun. Brie wondered why, but kept her mouth closed.

  Langley wrote down the last call received from the i-com and then Dunstan looked at him. The big man set his jaw and practically rolled his eyes at his partner. Brie didn’t need her intuition to know they weren’t going to help.

  “We’ll check it out, but it’s obviously a prank call. A neighbor must have seen the bear near your house and called you to scare you. Some people have a sick sense of humor.”

  “But Officer Langley—” Bears couldn’t do what had been done to Ian’s door.

  “Listen Miss, maybe you two should stay somewhere else tonight—a motel, or a friend’s house maybe.”

  “I—” Ian stepped forward.

  “Give the i-com company a call. They can help you stop the prank calls. And animal control will tell you what you can do about the bear.”

  The cops turned and walked back to the car, ignoring Ian’s shaking head.

  Brie turned to Ian. “Why didn’t you tell the cops about the gun?”

  “I didn’t want them to give me a hard time about it. They left so fast. They obviously think this is a joke, but something is happening here.” He stared at the julienned door while he spoke. “And maybe you should go too. I’d understand if you feel safer away from me and my strange i-com wielding bears.”

  She smiled, but for a moment, she couldn’t answer. What was she doing here? She liked Ian, but she should run. At least her flips were safe, barring the occasional fall. Whatever destroyed the door was far more real, and dangerous. So why wasn’t she running?

  Instinct told her he was a good man, and she had shared her truth with him. She’d always wanted to share her past with a man. Perhaps the closeness, which came from sharing so much, skewed her intuition, as she’d always feared. Then she realized the truth. She wouldn’t leave, even if he weren’t in the equation. This was her chance to change things. Her flips left her helpless, and this might be her only chance to be powerful. It might be her opportunity to do something real.

  “What do we do now?” She stepped toward him, rubbing a palm over his upper arm, and craning her neck to gaze deep into his troubled eyes. “We can go to my apartment, but it won’t help us with whatever this is. I’m not buying the bear thing.”

  “No, we have to go see my mom. She’s been calling, and it might be because she has some information. Maybe she painted something helpful.”

  She nodded and followed him into the house. He threw some clothes into a bag and grabbed the gun, setting it on top.

  “She lives in the mountains of Wrightwood, so bring a coat because they get lots of snow.” Ian picked up his i-com from where the officer left it. “Let’s go.”

  Brie grabbed her purse and followed him to the car, a mix of fright, shock, and wonder gave the evening a surreal quality. Buster plodded along next to her, panting as though all were right with the world now.

  Chapter Six

  Pain stabbed through her head. Even as she sat up in the bed Ian had shown her to last night, her reality shifted. No longer her mind, nor her will…Becoming—

  Andrea woke early Saturday morning, humming as she went through her morning ritual. She rushed to get back to Dean and Bowser. They just left to his mother’s house, he and Brittany. What a cute relationship. This was so much better than Kingsley’s usual love subplots.

  The author’s protagonists were always good people. Despite the trouble they went through, they always seemed clever and sure of themselves. Though there was never a guarantee they would live in a Kingsley novel, they usually died saving someone else or doing something heroic, which made the end all the more heart-rending. She sighed, opened the cover, and flipped to chapter three. Drawing her feet beneath her, she twisted a strand of hair around her finger.

  “After a nerve-wracking drive along dark winding mountain roads, Dean had finally gotten to his mother’s house and settled into a long, sleeples
s night, wishing he weren’t separated from Brittany by bedroom walls. Now morning had rolled around, Dean clambered out of bed, tossing off the covers, which he’d used more as a wrestling partner than anything else. However, in the brief period before morning when he’d slept, he knew he’d had a pleasant dream. All he could recall was chocolate brown eyes, and a dark hair falling over them. There had been something calming in those soft eyes.

  “He surveyed his mother’s guest room for Bowser, who lay in a heap near the heating vent. ‘Looks like you had a restful evening. No concerns about the creature?’ Bowser gave a loud yawn, then stretched.

  “It must have been a bear. What else could it have been? And what about the calls? Just a prank or was it something more? He showered, dressed, and headed to the kitchen where a large stack of freshly made waffles waited for him.”

  Brain throbbing, Brie came back to the small room. “What is going on here?” She grabbed her head.

  She tossed her covers off and, wearing the pajamas Ian’s mother, Delia had given her, she followed the smell of baking waffles to the kitchen.

  “Eat up, boy-o. You have to preserve your strength, especially with all the renegade bears out there,” Delia said.

  Even after their late night arrival, the wild-haired woman’s smile was as bright and cheerful as her kitchen. The yellow and white walls made the morning seem far more chipper than it had been an instant before. Delia used a spatula to shove several waffles onto her son’s plate.

  “Stop teasing me. It may be funny to you, but you should see my door.” He grimaced. “Besides, my appetite turned and drove the other direction last night. Sorry again for showing up so late.”

  Brie stepped toward the table, wondering how to say what she must.