Blind Shadows

by James A. Moore

  Griffin said, “Can all of the othersiders do that?”

  “No, just the most powerful ones.”

  “How much damage would you have to do to keep that from happening?”

  “Totally destroying the earth form might do it. I don’t know for sure. Hell, it’s not like there’s a manual about it or anything like hard fast rules.”

  Griffin noted that Decamp wasn’t speaking or acting in his usual restrained manner, and he thought he had a pretty good idea why. Three people had died when Isaiah broke out of the morgue and Decamp was feeling responsible. Griffin had been there and he knew there was nothing he or anyone else could say. Decamp would have to work it out in his own way and in his own time.

  “Where’s Charon, by the way?” Decamp said, changing the subject.

  “She’s down visiting Whit,” Griffin said. “She’s gotten very fond of him.”

  Decamp said, “Easy to do. He’s a good man. Anyway, let’s get going. I want to get back to my house where I might do some good. What’s your friend the Sheriff up to?”

  “He’s taken some men and he’s getting the kudzu and crap cleared on Mooney’s Bluff.”

  Decamp frowned. “That might not be the best idea. There are things hidden there that the Blackbournes want to stay hidden.”

  “Too late now. Carl’s already at it. We figure if the bluff isn’t available for whatever the Blackbourne’s have in mind for All Hallows, they won’t be able to carry out their plan.”

  “Sound thinking,” said Decamp. “But the bluff isn’t the only place of power.”

  “You destroyed the Blacktop Mountain site and Fort Mountain is a state park these days. Don’t see them going there. Where else can they go?”

  Decamp said. “You’re probably right.”

  Griffin got the distinct impression that Decamp didn’t believe that for a second.

  * * *

  “Good of you to come and see me, sweetheart,” Whit Gramling said.

  In the harsh autumn light he looked every one of his 103 years to Charon. She said, “Hey we’re comrades now, Whit. We fought monsters together. I think that makes us honorary kin.”

  “Damn straight. And we sent them packing. How’s Carter doing?”

  “Griffin is upstairs helping him get ready to check out.”

  “Seems a bit soon, but Carter always was bullheaded. Not calm and even tempered like me.”

  “Yeah, that’s you all right. I meant to ask you, after what happened out at your cabin, do you always keep a hidden shotgun handy when you’re out on your porch?”

  “Not always. Just around Halloween. Like I told you, the Moon-Eyes usually give my place a wide berth, but as All Hallows gets close, you can’t be sure. So I stay ready.”

  “Well it’s a good thing. You saved our lives.”

  “So did you, Charon.”

  “Well, maybe a little. Have the doctors said anything about when you can go home?”

  “They said I had a concussion and some cracked ribs. Wanted me to stay another day or so for observation.”

  “I can’t imagine why anyone would want to observe you,” Carter Decamp said from the door.

  “They’re trying to figure out how I’ve lived so long. Told ’em it was pure meanness but I don’t think they believed me.”

  Charon stood as Decamp and Griffin entered the room. Griffin slipped his arm around her waist and she leaned against him. She still couldn’t get used to the idea that the two of them were a couple. Not that she was complaining.

  Whit raised a white eyebrow and said, “You two seem to be getting along better.”

  “Shush,” said Charon.

  Whit smiled. He turned to Decamp and said, “Charon says you’re blowing this joint. Sure that’s a good idea?”

  “Not really, but I think the situation warrants it.”

  “You figure the Moon-Eyes are still planning to make a move come tomorrow night?”

  “No reason to think they’re not.”

  “We’d better go,” Griffin said. “Glad you’re doing better, Whit.”

  “You three watch yourselves. The Blackbournes are getting desperate I think. They’ve failed too many times in the past and that crew don’t like failing.”

  “We’ll be careful,” Charon said. She knew no one else would say it.

  Whit said, “One more thing, Carter. Charon told me what happened with Isaiah. Wasn’t your fault, son.”

  Decamp nodded but didn’t say anything.

  * * *

  The ambulance dropped Carl and Andy off at the reception area. Technically both of them were just fine, but Carl promised that he’d have Andy checked inside because there were several minutes when the older man had blacked out and that wasn’t to be taken lightly. That said, they both entered under their own power.

  It wasn’t coincidence when they ran into Wade and Charon. Carl had called in a progress report after finding his phone wedged against the dashboard. They agreed to meet at the hospital and take things from there. One look told him things were different between Wade and the girl at his side. He kept his opinions to himself. It wasn’t the right time to bring up personal matters.

  Andy looked at the older man with their associates and nodded his head. “Decamp.”

  The older man looked back and nodded his head. “Hunter.” He looked the professor over and Carl realized he was seeing the older man that had come to Charon’s rescue. “Doing well?”

  Andy jerked a thumb at Carl. “This one thinks he can tell me what to do.”

  “So listen to someone for a change of pace and get checked out.”

  “Well, I’m here, aren’t I?” A moment later he passed Andy over to the care of Dr. Chalmers and picked up the keys he’d had McPherson drop off when the man came by to do follow up questions on the disappearance of Isaiah Blackbourne’s body. Disappearance, like they didn’t already know the facts. They were still contemplating exactly how to discuss the entire affair with the general public. For now it was a disappearance.

  After he’d gathered the keys to his squad car, he was ready to go. Before then, however, the group gathered together for a quick discussion.

  “Decamp here thinks clearing Mooney’s Bluff might be a mistake, Carl.”

  Carl looked toward the older man and nodded his head. “Well, the Blackbournes surely didn’t appreciate it. I thought at first that they were retaliating for the raid, but I don’t think so. I think they were up there and waiting to defend the area.” He stared out at the parking lot for a moment. “It could have been a lot worse. At first I thought the bastards had taken out a couple of my deputies, but it turned out they were off getting lunch for themselves and the guys actually clearing the bluffs.”

  “Have the bluffs been cleared?” Decamp’s voice was calm, but it was obvious the man was stressed and likely he was still in pain. He was also looking a bit on the haunted side. Griffin had already explained that part.

  “Oh yes. Stripped bare of weeds and vines. And I’ll have the roads up to the bluff monitored by squad cars tonight and all of tomorrow.” Halloween was upon them. The next night was when everything was supposed to go down.

  “There are other places where they could possibly perform their rituals.”

  Carl nodded. “You got a list? Because all we’ve got for certain is that the bluffs are a place where the Moon-Eyes used to hang around. I was going to take Andy in there to see if he could figure anything out, but that didn’t work the way I’d planned.” He had the sore muscles to remind him.

  “I’ll see if I can come up with anything.”

  Carl nodded his head again, exhaustion sneaking in to bite at his thoughts.

  “Wade, I think you and I need to be up there tomorrow night. I’ll have deputies all over the bluff after midnight tonight. I don’t know if this ritual is supposed to happen in the early morning hours or later tomorrow night, but technically Halloween starts pretty soon.”

  “You’re safe for a few more hours, if histor
y repeats itself.” Decamp spoke up again. “It was well after sunset on All Hallow’s Eve when I dealt with the problem before.”

  “Good. Because I could use a little chance to rest, a chance to talk to my people and prepare them, and we could all use a chance to gather up whatever artillery we can, because I don’t think these folks are playing around anymore.” He shook his head. “They lobbed a damn truck at me.”

  Charon looked at him without saying a word. He could see she wanted to say something, but held herself back. He wasn’t sure why. He didn’t know her well enough and maybe that was why she kept her peace. Whatever the case, he hoped it wasn’t something he’d said or done himself. He liked the woman and thought she was good for Wade. At least that was his first impression.

  Wade nodded his head. “We can work out the details soon. You look like hell.”

  “Thanks, I’m feeling it.”

  “So go get rested up. We’ll get Decamp here back to his place and he can check his notes. Then we’ll take care of what has to be done.”

  “Just be careful. The Blackbournes are seeming a bit on the seriously pissed off side.”

  “Good. That means we’ve made them nervous. Nervous people make mistakes.”

  Carl nodded. “They also tend to get trigger happy.”

  Two minutes later he was alone. Another minute after that he was on the road and heading for home. The office would wait a bit longer. It had to. They could call him if they needed to, but his head was throbbing and his muscles were wracked with tension and if he didn’t get a little rest he’d be useless. It hadn’t always been that way. Maybe he was feeling depressed or maybe he was just feeling beat to hell, but it seemed bouncing back from this sort of crap had been easier when he was younger. Then again, Whit Gramling seemed as spry as could be and Carl was feeling hobbled, so maybe it was just him after all.

  * * *

  Carl lied.

  He drove back up to the bluff, because sometimes curiosity is the worst type of seductress. Just ask any cat.

  When he arrived the work had progressed very well, much to the annoyance of Neal Crawford, who liked having the kudzu growing up the side of the sharp incline. The man had come out and raged at the workers right up until the time that Perez explained the facts of life to him regarding who, exactly, owned the land. After that he kept his peace.

  Carl made himself a promise that he’d try to smooth things over with the older man, but not just yet. He had bigger targets to take care of.

  He was once again thankful for living in an era with decent batteries and decent flashlights when he pulled his hefty halogen flash from the squad car and walked to the mouth of the cave. Perez offered to come with him, but instead he suggested she might want to keep an eye on the road. No cars were to come anywhere near the caves or the access trail—he couldn’t really call it a road—that led to them until Halloween was over. It probably wouldn’t deter the Blackbournes, but it might at least slow them down.

  There were multiple cave entrances into the side of the hill. Three of them were very obviously failed attempts to find a gold strike. None of those three went very deep into the side of the hill. The one that did was fifteen feet off the ground, because that wasn’t the least bit inconvenient, really. No more than, say, trying to intimidate Frank Blackbourne with a peashooter.

  The climb was made easier by the fact that the guys working on clearing the area had a cherry picker and were willing to give him a boost.

  Once inside the cave, Carl immediately wished he’d taken Perez up on her offer. The cave was not wide at the entrance, but it ran down a good ways and he moved carefully through the narrow passage, shaking his head and cursing himself as a fool with every step. Well lit or not, the damned thing was creepy. The ground was smoothed from who knew how many years of being tread on, and the walls in spots were almost as smooth. But after slipping some fifteen feet into the place it opened up substantially. The area was wide and deep and the walls were covered with a thick green moss that obscured most of the markings that had been carved into them. There were pictograms scraped into the surfaces, and the tales they told were lost by and large but there were enough images left to unsettle.

  He pulled his smart phone out and took a few images, silently cursing the need to use his flashlight because the damned phone wasn’t quite new enough to come with a flash.

  At the very center of the round room was a deep tunnel that ran straight down.

  “Not a chance in hell. Thanks though.”

  Carl left.

  Enough was enough. He didn’t plan on spelunking his way down into whatever sort of place the Moon-Eyes might have down there. He wasn’t quite feeling suicidal.

  Four minutes after he entered the cave he left again with the hairs on his neck and arms standing at full attention.

  Two minutes after he left, the sound of rustling leaves whispered its way out of the hole in the ground.

  * * *

  Frank Blackbourne watched the men at the caves with surprising indifference. He had no concern over them. They could not hurt him. For the moment he was sated, his hunger faded down to a dull ache and his thoughts surprisingly calm.

  He saw the sheriff and knew that they would be talking soon. The man either had his Meemaw’s charms or he knew where they were. But not here, and not now; he wanted to have time to show the man how little he liked him.

  Besides, he could sense the change in the sky, the stars. The Way would be opening soon and then he would have all the power he would ever need.

  Frank was an accident and he knew it. His thoughts were seldom complex since he came back from the grave, but he understood that he wasn’t supposed to exist. There was one other who demanded most of the energies that were generated by sacrifice. That one would be hunting for him. The name escaped him. He could sense the thing, but not the name. They were connected, of course. Once they had been close. They were family, after all.

  No. Frank shook his head. He had new connections. He had new family who promised to help him if he would just do what was necessary.

  So he would help. He would get what he needed to give Meemaw back her peace, and he would decide for himself what was important beyond that. The one who used to tell him what to do wasn’t going to have that sort of influence over him again.

  Of course, he was avoiding seeing that one again, just in case.

  She could be so very persuasive.

  * * *

  The Square was looking about as ready as it ever would. The vendors’ carts were all in place, the port-a-johns were situated—hopefully downwind after that incident a few years back—and the lights and electricity were all where they needed to be. The only thing missing was the crowds and they’d show up soon enough.

  Jolene sat on her favorite swing and kicked her legs casually, swaying back and forth at a leisurely pace. Several of the local boys and men were looking and she enjoyed that fact, but currently she was on the prowl for more important fish.

  There would be time to play later.

  For now there was work to do.

  Bodey Harper came her way casting a nervous eye around for any witnesses. He carried a small box, his arm straining under the weight.

  Jolene smiled for him, that smile that she knew would make him both more nervous and excited.

  “Hey, Mister Bodey.” Her voice was a light, breezy thing, and he looked her way and smoldered.

  “What’re you doing here, Jolene?”

  “Waiting for you.” She smiled.

  “You shouldn’t be here. What if someone sees you?” Lordy, he looked so guilty and they hadn’t even done anything. It was the thought that they might do something together that had him acting the fool. He was a married man and with two boys only a few years younger than her, but as she’d learned a long time ago, men like Bodey wanted more than they had, no matter how much they already had.

  “Mister Bodey, I’m here almost every day.” She looked around to make sure no one else was anywher
e around—far more casually than the nervous wreck in front of her—and smiled. “Besides, how else am I gonna see you?”

  Bodey Harper was a well off man. His family owned the drugstore, the hardware store and a couple of other little businesses in Wellman. He was not in charge of those businesses, but he would be one day. It was best to get to know him well and to keep him ready for bigger and better things. As it stood currently, her mother was already well known to a couple of the Harper men. She just hadn’t bothered with Bodey.

  She let her fingers brush over his arm in a light caress and watched the man get flustered.

  “I just wanted to see if you got those things I ordered in, Mister Bodey.” She smiled brightly.

  “I did.” He nodded and set the box down. “They’re in there.”

  “Ya’ll are too sweet, Mister Bodey.”

  He blushed to the roots of his thinning hair and pulled his pants back up his waist. He wasn’t exactly fat, but he was definitely stocky and he tended to wear his pants low on his hips. That way he could pretend his waist was a few sizes smaller and could hope that his belly didn’t show too much. It did, but she wasn’t about to disillusion him.

  “Will you be here tomorrow, Jolene?”

  She smiled at him, and nodded slowly.

  “I wouldn’t miss it, Mister Bodey. Will you be here, too?”

  “Oh. Oh yes.”

  “You gonna be in a costume?”

  “Um. Yes I am.” He stuttered when he was nervous.

  “Well, maybe I’ll just have to see if I can unmask you.” She looked a promise at him and he blushed again before turning back toward the hardware store he’d emerged from.