Closed at Dark: A Soren Chase Novella (The Soren Chase Series)

by Rob Blackwell

  “Has who?” Muriel said, her voice beginning to sound shrill.

  “What’s he going to do to them?” Ken asked.

  “I don’t know, but I can’t imagine it’s anything good,” Soren said.

  He slammed his fist into the porch railing, punching it because he didn’t know what else to do. He rounded on Muriel.

  “You know, don’t you?” he said.

  “Know what?” she asked.

  But he could see the fear in her eyes. She knew. Of course she did.

  “Your husband’s not human,” Soren spat. “And you’re protecting him. Where is he, Muriel? Where is he?”

  He took a step forward and the threat must have been obvious on his face. Muriel didn’t so much retreat as wilt. She cringed, a look of terror in her eyes. She’d been hit before, Soren realized abruptly. Ken put a hand on Soren to stop him.

  Soren saw how she looked, but he still wanted to shake her until she told him what he needed to know.

  “Where is he?” Soren asked, putting real menace into his tone.

  “I don’t know!” Muriel said.

  She collapsed in a heap, falling to the ground. Even then, Soren might have grabbed her, but he looked behind Muriel to see a small boy on the stairs. The boy was Alex’s age, but he had his thumb in his mouth, making him look several years younger.

  Soren turned away in disgust. He walked down the steps, hearing Ken talk to Muriel in soothing tones. Soren looked down at his hands to see them shaking. He was surprised at the surge of violence within him. He doubted hitting Muriel would help, but some part of him wanted to do it anyway. And that scared him badly. He wasn’t that kind of person, was he?

  He shook his head in an effort to clear it. He needed to focus on the task at hand. The way he saw it, there were two options. They could either wait there and hope that Frye returned or he could invoke Plan B. Waiting was dangerous for several reasons, the most important of which was that Frye might hurt or kill Alex and Sara. Hell that could have already happened. And if Frye returned without them, what then? Beyond beating Frye to a pulp, he wasn’t sure what they could do to get the information they needed.

  That left Plan B. Soren returned to the car, and pulled open the small bag he’d left on the floor. He’d gathered the items in a rush, using the information that Terry had given him. He just hoped they would work.

  He walked back to the house, still feeling like he wanted to murder someone. Muriel saw him headed up the steps and began crying again. Ken turned and put a hand on his chest.

  “Get out, Soren,” he said. “You’re not helping.”

  Soren looked at him flatly and held up the bag.

  “It’s time for Plan B,” he said.

  Ken looked confused and Soren brushed past him to enter the house. He stepped over Muriel without looking at her and ignored the kid still watching him from the steps.

  Ken followed after him.

  “What’s Plan B?” he asked.

  “We’re going to summon the shade,” Soren said.

  Ken’s eyes widened.

  “You said that would be dangerous,” Ken said.

  “It is,” Soren said. “But I don’t see another option. Clearly the shade can’t interfere with Frye directly or he would have done that by now. But maybe he knows how to find him.”

  “Or maybe he’ll kill us both,” Ken said.

  “I’m ready to find out,” Soren said. “The question is, how much are you willing to risk to find Sara and Alex?”

  Ken didn’t hesitate; he just nodded.

  “Do it,” he said.

  “Good, because I need your help,” Soren said. “I researched this just in case. It’s not hard, just risky.”

  He stepped over into the Frye’s dining room, aware that both Muriel and her son were watching them both. He would have preferred they weren’t there, but he worried if he started talking to Muriel he might become distracted again.

  He had what the ritual required: the shade’s name, a photo of something he cared deeply about, and the summoning crystal Terry had once given him.

  “You might need it one day,” Terry had told him. Soren was beginning to wonder if the old man was psychic.

  Soren pushed a stack of magazines off the coffee table and emptied the contents of his bag. There was a large purple crystal and a photo of Bobby Strode from Peter Strode’s police file. Soren looked back up at Ken.

  “Just one more thing,” he said.

  “Hurry, dammit,” Ken said.

  Soren stepped into the dining room and followed into the kitchen. He searched through several drawers until he found a large knife. Ken looked alarmed when Soren returned to the living room with it in his hand.

  “Does this involve human sacrifice?” he asked.

  Soren didn’t respond directly.

  “Hold out your hand,” he said.

  “What the hell are you going to do?” Ken asked.

  “Slice it open,” Soren replied. “The ritual requires the ‘blood of an honest man.’ I’m hoping that’s you.”

  “Why can’t you do it?”

  “I’m known for a lot of things, but honesty isn’t one of them,” Soren replied.

  He looked into the police officer’s eyes, an unspoken question on his lips. How much was he willing to sacrifice? Ken seemed to know what he was asking. He pushed up his sleeves and held out his arm.

  He opened his palm directly above the crystal. Soren didn’t wait, but quickly used the knife to make a thin gash on the hand. Ken winced, but never took his eyes off Soren. He waited a moment until blood began dripping onto the crystal.

  “Peter Strode,” Soren said, “I call upon your shade! I call upon your soul! I demand your presence.”

  “You sure ‘demand’ is the word you want?” Ken asked.

  “Peter Strode, you miserable fucking failure. How many boys have to die on your watch? I demand you come!”

  “What the hell are you doing?” Ken asked.

  Soren didn’t answer. Anger is a powerful emotion, and the only one he knew for sure the shade still experienced. It was his best way of getting the creature’s attention.

  Soren looked down at the crystal which was now covered in Ken’s blood.

  “Peter Strode! This is your final chance to be useful,” Soren yelled. “I summon you to come to us or I curse you to eternal damnation. Peter Strode, I summon you in your grand-nephew’s name. I summon you!”

  There was no warning, no mysterious wind or curtains blowing to announce his arrival. One minute Ken and Soren stood in the living room, with Muriel and her son still in the hall. The next a white-haired man with silver eyes was standing next to Soren, staring at him with pure hate on his face.

  “Good,” Soren said. “We need your he...”

  He never finished his sentence. Instead, the shade of Peter Strode reached out and grasped Soren by the throat. He began choking the life out of him.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sara squared off across the playground with the monster who resembled Richard Frye.

  She wanted to scream, but she forced herself to stop. That was clearly what he was hoping for. His face was hideous to look at, yet still somehow recognizable. His eyes were larger now and had been pushed further apart on his face. Red, angry blisters had somehow burst through his skin, covering his forehead, cheeks and chin.

  The worst features were the two identical gashes on each side of his face. The wounds were roughly three inches wide, and Sara could see blood and tissue underneath, but none of it oozed down his face. Instead, the gashes seemed to pulse with a strange rhythm, growing wider apart and then shrinking again. They reminded her of gills on a fish.

  “I’ve only let Muriel see me this way once,” Richard said. “She was being a real bitch at the time. Oh, how she screamed. She can’t stand the sight of blood. I had to work for weeks to convince her it was a dream, but it was worth it. It kept her from questioning me again.”

  “You are not touching my son,�
�� Sara said.

  “Yeah? How are you going to stop me?” Richard said. “Shout all you want; no one can hear you. Do you even know where you are? This playground is notorious. Three kids died here, all at different times and under different circumstances. Oh, this was a long time ago, in the 1950s. People didn’t get quite so worked up the way they did now. They knew that accidents happened. But after the third death, nobody wanted to come out here anymore. The county never tore it down, but it was abandoned decades ago. There’s nowhere for you to go. Feel free to run, of course, but I guarantee I can run faster.”

  Sara didn’t answer. Instead, she ensured Alex was behind her and set herself into a defensive crouch.

  “Oh, I get it,” Richard said. “You think whatever bullshit yoga class you go to will help. Well, surprise, but I’m not planning to work with brute force here.”

  Richard reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun.

  “I know, a little disappointing, right?” he said. “To see a monster use a gun — it’s too normal. But it is the most efficient route, I’m afraid. So why don’t you step away from your boy and we’ll make this quick.”

  He waved the gun at her, but Sara didn’t move. He pointed the gun toward her head.

  “I said move away,” he said more menacingly. “Unless you want me to blow a hole through both of you.”

  Sara stared at the creature, but didn’t budge an inch. All her instincts said to block Alex, but in that moment she realized that he was her shield, even if he was behind her. If she stepped away even for a moment, Richard would shoot her and grab Alex.

  Richard looked angry, but didn’t fire.

  “Fine picture this is,” Richard said. “A mother hiding behind her little boy. How noble.”

  “If that’s what it takes to save him, I’m fine with it,” Sara said. “You are not laying a hand on him. How’s your aim, Richard? My dad taught me how to handle a gun and I’ve got to say, you don’t seem that comfortable with it. You’re afraid to shoot me because it might hit Alex.”

  Richard kept standing there, holding the gun trained on her. He seemed to be weighing a decision.

  At that moment, there was a shout from the forest.

  “Sara!” a familiar voice called. “Sara, are you out there?”

  Sara opened her mouth to respond, and the gun went off.

  *****

  Soren wasn’t sure what would kill him first: the lack of air or a snapped neck.

  The shade aggressively squeezed Soren’s throat, and despite his best efforts to punch the creature, nothing seemed to move him. Ken was trying to heave the shade off Soren, but to no avail. His blows didn’t seem to hurt the spirit at all.

  It took a moment for Soren to realize why. The shade had turned corporeal but he was primarily a creature of psychic, not physical, force. Trying to punch and hit him didn’t have much impact. The only way to free himself was to use his mind.

  Unfortunately, the second Soren tried it, he realized just how difficult it was going to be. The shade’s psychic energy was like a brick wall, and Soren wasn’t nearly skilled enough in that arena to break through it. If he tried to mentally battle this creature, he was going to lose.

  Instead, he shifted gears, filling his mind with images of Alex. At first it was difficult, but Soren let the brief memories of Alex overlap with those of Sarah when she was a girl. He pictured Sara, John and Soren playing pirates in her backyard when they were kids.

  If you don’t stop this, Alex and his mother will die, Soren thought at the shade.

  Soren was starting to see tiny black dots in his vision. He was running out of oxygen.

  You are the boy’s last hope, Soren thought. A creature has taken him.

  I KNOW A MONSTER HAS TAKEN HIM, a voice came back in Soren’s mind, and it felt like someone was shouting directly in his ear. I TRIED TO WARN YOU.

  Help us stop him, Soren thought, with the shade’s hands still around his throat.

  He heard a gun go off and knew Ken was trying to shoot the shade, but it had no effect.

  IT’S TOO LATE, the shade replied. IT HAS THEM BOTH.

  There’s still time, Soren said. Guide us to him.

  The shade’s grip seemed to slacken a little.

  I don’t trust you, the shade thought at him, but it was no longer a shout.

  I needed the blood of an honest man to summon you. You don’t have to trust me, but you know you can trust him. Please, Peter, we’re running out of time. You can still save Alex. Don’t let him become the next Alastair.

  The shade abruptly let go of Soren’s throat, and Soren fell to the ground. He lay on the floor coughing and gasping for breath. Ken still had his gun trained on the shade, but Soren waved at him to put it away. Behind them both, Soren saw Muriel and the boy flee from the room, perhaps worried about what would happen next.

  But Peter seemed to be appraising Ken for the first time.

  “You’re a police officer,” the shade said out loud.

  Ken nodded slowly, looking uncertainly between Soren and the spirit.

  “He doesn’t trust me,” Soren said. “I told him he could rely on you.”

  Ken seemed to pick up on what was required.

  “I love Sara and Alex,” Ken said. “I’m trying to protect them.”

  Soren didn’t know if the shade believed Ken, but he sure did. The words cut through him for reasons he couldn’t explain. For just a second, he wanted to rage at Ken and tell him how unworthy he was to be with Sara and serve as Alex’s dad. He couldn’t hope to fill the shoes of John Townes.

  But John was dead, and even if Ken wasn’t up to his caliber, did that mean those shoes had to remain empty? And was that the only reason Ken’s words felt like a knife in his gut? He pushed that thought away. Right now, none of that mattered. Ken might be Soren’s only chance to save Sara and Alex.

  The shade nodded at Ken.

  “I believe you,” he said.

  “Then take us to them,” Ken said. “We don’t have any time.”

  Soren stood up, still holding his throat.

  “We need you to guide us to where they’re being held.”

  “I can only get so close,” the shade said. “His power prevents me from seeing him clearly and keeps me at bay. I’ve only been aware when he’s been physically close to the boy. That was why I was trying to lead him away. I didn’t know which adult around him was the dreamweaver.”

  “Can you help us fight him?” Soren asked.

  “Only if you weaken his power,” the shade replied. “Somehow he puts up a barrier I can’t get through. He would need to be significantly hurt for me to get past it.”

  “Understood. Just take us as near as you can and then point us in the right direction,” Soren said. “We’ll do the rest.”

  Soren wasn’t sure what he expected the shade to do. He assumed they would have to walk or drive behind him as he led them to the spot. Instead, the shade reached out and grabbed both Ken and Soren by the arm.

  Soren abruptly found himself standing in a copse of trees. He looked at Ken, who was just as startled. The shade put a finger to his lips and gestured toward an opening some thirty feet in the distance. Soren could hear the faint sounds of people talking.

  They needed to approach cautiously. Hopefully, Richard wouldn’t see them coming.

  He heard Sara’s voice drift over to him and felt a surge of hope. She was still alive.

  “You are not laying a hand on him,” Sara said.

  Ken started running toward the voice before Soren could stop him.

  “Sara!” he shouted. “Sara, are you out there?”

  He may be honest, but he’s a fucking idiot, Soren thought.

  That was when he heard the gun go off.

  *****

  Sara felt the shot whiz past her ear.

  She barely had time to react before the gun went off again. She turned and shoved Alex to the ground, throwing herself on top of him. But these shots weren’t directed at her. Richard
was firing into the forest.

  He ran toward her, crossing the distance as she lay over Alex, who was still trapped in his dream-like state.

  Richard grabbed her and wrenched her off the ground. He put the cold metal of the gun to her skull. She thought he would kill her, but instead he shouted at the trees.

  “Come out right now or I blow her head off!” he screamed.

  A large figure came out of the forest and she was relieved to see it was Ken. Somehow he’d found her. She also knew he had likely called in backup. They might survive this mess after all.

  “Give it up, Frye,” Ken said, holding his own weapon out at arm’s length. “I’ve got officers headed to this location. They know your identity. There’s nowhere for you to run.”

  “Bullshit!” Richard said. “Where are we? How did you get here? There’s no way you could have followed her here. I know how you got here, and if I’m right, that means you don’t know where you are.”

  Sara saw Ken hesitate just long enough for her to realize that what Richard said was true. He didn’t know where they were, which meant backup couldn’t be on the way.

  He opened his mouth to respond, but Richard pressed the gun further against her temple, digging it into her head. She cried out and Ken stopped walking forward.

  “Don’t lie to me again,” Richard said. “Are you alone?”

  Ken started to say “yes” — she could see it on his lips — but Soren walked out of the woods.

  “No,” he said.

  “Is that it?” Richard asked, his lips curled in a snarl.

  Soren shrugged.

  “Unless you count the shade who brought us here,” he said.

  Richard was nodding.

  “Knew it,” he said. “He’s the only one who could find me. God, how I hate that fucker.”

  Of the four of them, Soren seemed the most relaxed. Ken was still holding his gun out uncertainly, but Soren appeared to be unarmed. He stood there with his hands held up almost casually, like he encountered this kind of situation all the time.

  “Here’s how it’s going to go,” Soren said. “You’re going to let Sara and Alex go and we’ll give you a head start to escape.”