Blind Shadows

by James A. Moore

  Charon fired again but this time Isaiah actually seemed to twist out of the way of the bullets. But that wasn’t possible. No one could move that fast. Of course, she thought. He’s not moving that fast. He’s moving in and out of the other dimension, crossing space that way. Charon fired again and used the split second she had bought to reach into her other pocket and pull out a mixture of sea-salt, sage, and the powdered silver she’d made Griffin buy. She knew Isaiah would dodge if she threw the gritty mixture at him so instead she threw it straight up so that it made a cloud that Isaiah couldn’t help but step through as he rushed at her.

  The albino coughed and spat and tried to brush the stuff off of him. Decamp rolled to his feet and drew his sword. He said, “Well done, Charon. He’s trapped in this dimension for the moment.”

  “I’m still fast enough to deal with you, old man,” Isaiah said and he leaped at Decamp with his fingers extended like claws.

  Decamp sidestepped but Isaiah’s long, sharp nails still raked across his shoulder, tearing through cloth and flesh. Decamp grunted and danced nimbly away from Isaiah’s next attack, scoring a cut on the albino’s chest that tore open his black shirt and drew black blood.

  Charon began digging through the bushes, seeking the gun with the silver bullets. Decamp might have been an expert swordsman but Isaiah Blackbourne was just too fast. It was amazing that Decamp had managed to cut him at all.

  Isaiah snarled and attacked low, tearing a chunk from Decamp’s leg. Before he could move away, Decamp slashed the silver edged blade across his face, knocking away his dark glasses and laying one cheek open. Isaiah screeched in rage and slammed into Decamp, knocking the sword from his hand and bearing the man to the ground.

  Sitting astride Decamp’s chest, Isaiah grinned down with his razor teeth and said, “What can you do without your sword, old man?”

  Decamp said, “Stab you with this knife.” And he drove a wide bladed knife that he had slid from a sheath at his belt into Isaiah’s stomach, ripping upward with the keen blade and spilling Isaiah’s entrails. The albino coughed blood and toppled to the ground. Decamp sat up. “I don’t know if you remember this knife, Isaiah.” Decamp’s face was close to that of the dying albino. “It belonged to a man named Jim Mankiller.”

  “Carter!” Charon said, hurrying to the fallen man.

  Decamp managed to get to one knee but his injured leg wouldn’t support his weight. He said, “I’ll be all right. Check on Whit. And call 911 while you’re at it. I think I’m going to need an ambulance.”

  Charon hurried to the porch, dialing as she went. The operator came on as she was checking Whit’s pulse. The old man was still alive. Charon spoke calmly, giving the operator directions and the extent of the injuries as she knew them. She also mentioned she was a friend of Sheriff Price and asked that the Sheriff’s department be notified. The operator told Charon to stay on the line.

  It had grown full dark and Charon kept checking the surrounding woods looking for the glow of pale eyes. When she saw the approaching blue and red strobes, she broke connection with the 911 operator, and almost instantly her phone rang. She checked the ID. Griffin.

  “Are you all right?” Griffin said when she answered.

  “I am, but I’m going to have to ride to the hospital with Whit and Carter Decamp.”

  “What? What the hell happened?”

  “Isaiah Blackbourne came to kill Whit.”

  “God damn it, Charon. I knew I shouldn’t have let you go alone. Where’s Blackbourne now?”

  “He’s gone where the goblins go,” Charon said. “Decamp killed him. Now shut up and meet me at the hospital.”

  “I’ll get a cab and be there before you are. Hang in there.”

  “I will.” She broke the connection before she could say I love you. It had been on the tip of her tongue after hearing the concern in Griffin’s voice. She pocketed her phone and waved to the deputies who were climbing out of their cruiser with weapons drawn.

  * * *

  “It occurred to me after our last talk that once the Blackbournes knew that their plans were out in the open then they wouldn’t worry about keeping a low profile anymore,” Decamp said. He was sitting up in a hospital bed. “They’d left Whit alone the same way they’d left me alone. I really just drove out to Whit’s place to see that his wards and defenses were in place and to warn him.”

  “Good thing you did,” Charon said.

  “A very good thing,” said Griffin. “How’s the leg?”

  Decamp shrugged. “They’ve got me so doped up I can’t feel anything, but I think it will be fine. Luckily for me, Isaiah hit the fleshy part and missed most of the muscle. And I sprinkled the wound with some stuff that will keep any infection from Isaiah’s claws from setting in before the paramedics arrived.”

  Griffin couldn’t help grinning. As Carl had said, Decamp knew his stuff. He said, “I was in the middle of reloading some shotgun shells with the stuff you told me to get when Charon called.”

  Decamp said, “Good, because I’m afraid I’m out of the fight. It’s up to you and your Sheriff buddy now. Speaking of which, thanks for getting the deputies to turn a blind eye to this.” He moved one of his pillows, revealing his .45. “I don’t think the pale ones will come here, but one never knows with the Blackbournes.”

  Griffin said, “Carl’s name carries a lot of clout in Wellman. Just don’t shoot anyone you don’t have to.”

  “I’ll do my best. Have you heard any more from Whit’s doctor, Charon?”

  “He’s stable but he hasn’t regained consciousness. Tough old bird got right in Isaiah’s face.”

  Decamp said, “I know he had some medals from World War II. He wasn’t afraid of much.”

  Griffin glanced over at Charon who was leaning on the wall of the hospital room. He said, “I’m going to take Charon home before she keels over. Thanks again, Decamp. You’re a stand up guy.”

  Decamp said, “You have my sword?”

  “Yeah, it’s safe in my truck.”

  “Hang on to it until I get out of here. You might need it.”

  “Thanks, I’ll take care of it.”

  Decamp nodded and leaned back on the pillows. “I’ve no doubt of that. Now get out of here. Keep me posted.”

  * * *

  Back at the house, Griffin once again made a check of the doors and windows. He had added some of the powdered silver to the sea salt mixture and nothing had been disturbed. He checked the security panel as well. Just because the othersiders couldn’t get in, it didn’t mean that intruders of a more terrestrial nature couldn’t.

  He recalled suddenly that his cell phone had vibrated while he was at the hospital. He checked the voice mail and found that he had a message from Carl. After listening to the message he knew why Carl hadn’t wanted to tell him what was going on earlier. The Sheriff’s department was going to raid the Hollow come morning. The fewer the people who had that information, the better.

  Griffin dialed Carl’s number but got no answer so he left a message of his own. He said, “I’m in. I’ll call you again in the morning if I don’t hear back from you.”

  When he was done he found Charon leaning on one side of the door to her room. She said, “I feel like someone dropped a house on me.”

  “It’s always like that after a fight.”

  “You’ve been in a lot of them, haven’t you, Griffin?”

  “More than I care to think of.”

  Charon trailed her fingertips across Griffin’s face. She had changed into one of the oversized t-shirts she liked to sleep in. She looked small and vulnerable there in the doorway. Griffin said, “You going to be okay? You saw some bad stuff today.”

  “Well,” Charon said. “Not to be a baby, but I was going to ask if I could sleep in your room again.”

  Griffin said, “I have to tell you, I’m not sure I can guarantee you’ll be safe in there anymore.”

  Charon stepped closer. “Who says I want to be safe?”

  C
haron had just showered and Griffin could smell her shampoo and the soap she used. He suddenly felt that there was too much oxygen in the room. He reached out and cupped her jaw in his hand. Turning her face up, he kissed her. Charon returned the kiss, sliding her arms around Griffin’s neck. He moved his hands to her back, then down to the swell of her hips. They stood that way for a moment, sharing the kiss. Then they fumbled into Griffin’s room without releasing one another and tumbled into the bed, where for a while they forgot the horrors of the night.

  * * *

  Two hours of sleep and then Carl showered, shaved and got ready for the day. It was a big day, too, one with scheduled raids and oodles of excitement planned for kids of all ages. Or at least for his deputies.

  They met at the station and Carl waited patiently while they showed up. According to the radio summons, the meeting was for a discussion of fiscal budget cuts. That meant two things: first, Nadine Crabapple and her gossip network lost interest instantly. Second, the deputies all showed up, because some of them were probably afraid they’d get the axe if they didn’t.

  Instead, they got overtime.

  When everyone was present and had loaded themselves up on the coffee and donuts he provided for them, Carl explained that there was going to be a raid and that it was going to be going down immediately. And of course, he explained that the raid had to do with Nichole and Fred and the people responsible for their deaths. And just like that, he had a force that was willing to go straight into Hell to take care of business.

  * * *

  The early morning air was cold as sin, and Carl took a sip of his cup of coffee as he drove. In the seat next to him, Wade Griffin sat looking remarkably calm for a man who was about to go into the lion’s den. “You sure you’re up to this?”

  Wade looked at his face and resisted the urge to wince. It probably took a little effort. In his defense, Carl’s face looked like two miles of bad road. The beating he’d gotten the night before showed clearly on his features in the form of scratches and a few bruises. “Well if I’m not, I guess I’ll find out in about four minutes.”

  “I’m not doubting your abilities, you know that, but this is likely to get very ugly very fast.”

  “And while you’re getting your ass shot off, I’ll be sneaking around and not being seen, so I don’t really see the problem here.”

  Carl shook his head. There was no arguing with his logic, and he knew very few people he’d rather have on his side if things got bad. The thing was, Wade wasn’t going to be on his side. Wade was going to be sneaking around all by himself.

  It had to be done. That didn’t mean he had to like it.

  He pulled off the road a little and let a few of the other cars slip past as quietly as they could. There was a very long trail of cars, really. A surprising number. He was the sheriff. He knew how many deputies there were in the county, but even he was taken aback when he saw them all together.

  They’d waited until the light was starting to show but the sun hadn’t made it over the hills around the Hollow and then they made their move. The local deputies took the lead while Carl stopped at the edge of Merle Blackbourne’s property. As soon as the truck stopped, Wade was in motion, slipping away with surprising stealth for a man the size of a small barn.

  And as soon as Griffin was in motion, Carl swung back onto the road and started driving again. He waited only two more minutes as he slowly moved down the rutted path and then he hit the lights and the sirens both.

  The caravan had been positioning itself for over ten minutes, doing so with no radio communication. The simple rule here was that they’d let the sirens do the talking. As soon as Carl’s flashers and sirens started the rest of the group did the same thing. The predawn light changed drastically and the scream of dozens of police sirens stole away any hope of sleep for the people of Crawford’s Hollow.

  * * *

  There are a lot of places where a person can hide. The Hollow had more than a fair share of them. Along the trails leading into the Hollow there were smaller trails and those often lead to trailers or small homes, but in a few cases they also lead to actual farms.

  Deputies Rick Adams and Tonya Perez found one of the farms when they turned down the relatively well-paved dirt trail. There was an actual house, a decent sized barn and a pig pen that reeked of the inhabitants’ less savory toilet habits.

  The smell was potent and made Perez’s eyes water. As soon as the sirens started echoing she hit their own flashers and sirens and climbed from the squad car. There was no one in the mood for playing, not after they’d been filled in about the cars, the missing people and the potential ties to the deaths of two of their own.

  The people from inside the farmhouse stayed inside, except for an older man who opened the door and looked at them long and hard for a minute before he came outside. He was a lean man, with dark hair, light blue eyes and the sort of stride that said he’d damaged one of his legs a while back and never fully mended.

  “You could turn that damn thing off if you wanted. Gonna be hard to hear you over the noise.” The accent was thick, a hard southern twang as opposed to an easy drawl. Perez nodded and Adams reached in and turned off the siren. The man eyed them for a moment and nodded his head. “What can I do for you folks?”

  “Need to check your house, sir. We’re investigating a series of car thefts.”

  “Not without a warrant.” The man was remarkably calm.

  “Spoken like a man with something to hide.” Adams didn’t even try to keep the contempt from his voice. She liked her partner well enough, but the facts were what they were: He could barely tolerate her as an Hispanic and he absolutely loathed the people in the Hollow. He looked at them as the worst type of white people, the sort that justified the existence of other colors and races. He did his best to hide his feelings, and he’d actually warmed up to Perez after a few months, but old habits died hard.

  The man looked at Adams with a cold expression of his own. “Or maybe I just don’t like the sort of asshole that wakes my entire family at seven in the morning with sirens and lights instead of just knocking on the door, son. You ever think about that?”

  “Are you calling me an asshole?” Adams took a step forward.

  “Did you wake my family?”

  Perez held out the warrant for the man to see. “We’re checking every house in the Hollow.”

  The man moved out of her way. “Good luck with that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s houses, and there’s houses.”

  Perez shook her head. “What do you mean?”

  “I expect you’ll find out soon enough.”

  They found nothing in the house, save for a frightened gathering of children and a portly, bleary-eyed woman holding her newborn twins. Perez apologized for the inconvenience and they headed back for the car.

  And even as they reached the car, they heard the first gunshots from down the road a stretch.

  And then they heard a few more.

  And then there were screams.

  * * *

  Not everyone in the area was a member of the Blackbournes. It just seemed that way. A few of the deputies managed to come out the event without running across any troubles, but they were the exceptions.

  Just across a narrow bridge that required the deputies to walk rather than take their vehicles, Ryan and Erikson, who normally managed to stay out of trouble along the state border run, encountered a brutish man who took one look at them and ran like a jackrabbit. They pursued and quickly tackled him as he tried to get to his stash of meth and crack cocaine. It wasn’t much by most standards, but the man fought like his entire life was on the line. Had he been wise he would have merely surrendered and gotten a slap on the wrist for his troubles. Instead, he resisted arrest and committed a felony by attempting to flee. He made fifteen yards before Ryan took him down. He kicked Ryan exactly once in the leg before the two deputies subdued him. They thought of a few other charges while they carried
him across the bridge and he continued to struggle and scream obscenities.

  Down another path four men of different ages were caught halfway through a drunken binge that also apparently involved having sex with a couple of minors from down the road. They were arrested without incident, however the parents of the two young teens realized what was going on and blew two of the men away and wounded a third before the deputies could stop them.

  Down at the very base of the Hollow, in the swampy area where the houses were actually built on stilts to avoid the occasional floods, deputies Westmuller and Harralson caught a withered old woman eating what they believed was the meat from a human femur. Turned out they were right. One of them pointed a weapon at her and told her to drop her meal. The other was busy losing his lunch on the porch at that moment. By the time Harralson was done vomiting, the hag had already killed his partner. She killed him two minutes later. They were never found.

  On one of the few named roads in the Hollow—a cheerful stretch of gravel laden path called Cemetery Road because of the headstones that lined both sides of the narrow run—two of the deputies managed to catch seven members of the Blackbourne Clan. The seven surrendered without incident.

  While those seven were being taken away, Jolene urged another group to go on ahead and give themselves up. Three of them listened, but Brae and Petey did not agree with the notion. They ran as hard as they could and were tased for their troubles.

  Jolene was spotted several times, but she was not reported by a single one of the deputies. They were normally too busy dealing with other members of the family.

  One of the deputies—Brett Allyn—decided to run after Jolene when she decided not to listen to his demands that she stop. The first thing that he learned was that he really wasn’t in very good shape. The second thing he learned was that she was “a slippery little bitch.” The third thing he learned was that when Jolene calls for help, she normally gets a response. In this case the man had the unfortunate bad timing to grab her when her cousin Frank was close by. Frank beat him unconscious, and promptly began carving runes into his flesh. Jolene, always happy to help, gave Frank four thick carpenter’s nails before she took off again. Deputy Allyn was found two days later.