The Clearwater Chronicles (Book 1): Shadows in the Light

by David Barton

  Five minutes and I was pulling into a layby just up the road from the motel. I stepped out of the car. Standing at the tree line to my right I listened for any sign of the hired help. Nothing. There didn’t seem to be any kind of noise coming from the direction of the motel.

  I walked down beside the road, within the treeline to keep myself out of view. My eyes feel upon the motel that sat in a little clearing. It had only four rooms and a little office for the owner. There were no lights on. Not even on the sign or the tall lamp post that hung above the little building.

  I moved out over the clearing that was a poor excuse for a car park. No cars and still no sign of life. No sound or movement of any kind. Maybe the man was out on a mission to kill someone. Which meant I could search his room without being disturbed.

  I moved over to the building using the shadows as cover. I checked the office but there wasn’t even a lamp light to be seen. It was dead inside. I moved to the actual guest rooms. Looking through each window as I went. The blinds were pulled and there was no way to see what was inside.

  I stepped back and looked at the building. It was weird. The motel didn’t exactly look like a five star hotel but it shouldn’t be this dead, not this close to the city. Deciding to move around the back I walked over the gravel, keeping alert as I moved.

  The back wall of the motel was long and only held one door leading into the back of the office. I leant my ear up against the wood. Still couldn’t hear anything. I twisted the door knob. It was locked but that wasn’t going to stop me.

  I tapped my shoulder into the wood, hearing the lock rip through the wood as the door gave way. Moving into the back of the office didn’t tell me much. It was like you would imagine from a run-down motel. I looked through to the front, still nothing out of the ordinary.

  The only peculiar thing I find about the office was a door that seemed to lead into the first room of the motel. Then again, maybe it was just the sleeping area for the office worker.

  I tried the knob, allowing the door to open slowly. My eyes shot through the gap I had made. Again, there was nothing strange. It was just an ordinary room you would expect in a motel. Seeing that the room is empty I move over the carpet. Looking around the room and in any drawers came up with nothing. It was like no one had been sleeping in here for weeks.

  I was about to give up on this whole place when I heard something. It was a faint voice but it was there. Coming from the room next door. I hadn’t heard anything when I had walked across the front of the building. Judging by how faint it sounds it’s probably in the last room at the end.

  I pressed my ear against the wall, verifying my thoughts. As I leant against the wall it seemed to give way a little. I backed away, scanning the weirdly stained wallpaper. There seemed to be a clean area in the shape of a door. I placed my palm against it, giving it a soft push.

  A section of the wall swung open just like a door. Revealing a much larger room. I walked in. Scanning the space. The walls were brick and not covered up like the room behind me. Tables were set up along the right side by the windows.

  On the left was a kitchen that was spotless. Cupboards sat under the counter. Plates and bowls sat on the side in piles. The oven and microwave meant there was gas and electricity in here.

  Also verified by the television that was glowing at the end. There was even a sofa in here. It seemed like a safety bunker or maybe a hideout. No one would expect to find this kind of thing in a motel. I certainly didn’t.

  I moved through the area, seeing all the weaponry. This was definitely the right place. As I walked I came across a massive board. Notes and photos were pinned to it. I looked at them, noticing a woman in each one. Even in the crowd shots she was there. Being followed by this photographer.

  From what I read in this man’s file he didn’t have the intelligence or patience for something like this. He was a real brute, all brawn with no brains. Which meant he must have received these from his employer or paid someone else to do it.

  As I moved to the edge of the board I noticed someone else in the photos. It was the reporter. He must know this woman. I wouldn’t blame him either. She looked beautiful in these photos. Almost like she knew the camera was there and she was modelling for the photographer.

  Then a thought along those lines popped into my head. She could actually know the photographer. Setting up the reporter for some reason. Then I looked back over the older photos. He wasn’t in any of them, not in the crowd shots either. I threw that thought away.

  She was clearly his next target and luckily I knew how to get to her first. I would need the reporter’s help with this one.

  Then my ears picked up another noise. A soft purr of an engine outside. I quickly moved across the space, getting to a window. I pulled down a section of the blind to peer out into the darkness.

  Suddenly light flooded through the motel window, blinding me for enough seconds to not see what was coming until I heard the smash. Feeling the metal bonnet of a large truck cracking into my chest. The shock of my knock must have sent my senses into a spiral because the roar of the engine sounded like it was coming from inside my head.

  The air whooshed around me until the back wall stopped the truck. Pinning me in place. I couldn’t feel any pain in my whole body. What I felt was beyond pain. No words could describe how much it hurt. The feeling of it threatening to knock me unconscious.

  My ears were filled with the unrelenting noise until the engine suddenly cut off. That’s when I heard the laughter of the driver. It got louder as he climbed out of the metal battering ram. With the lights still on full beam it made it hard to get a good look at him. The only thing I could see was his rough outline. From the large size of him I was sure it was the man I came here for.

  He had gotten the better of me because he had the element of surprise. I had left no signs I was here. My parked car wouldn’t have flagged suspicion to this extent. Unless he had been watching me this entire time from the woods.

  “I was told about you. The invincible man who can’t be beaten.”

  “Who told you this?” As I spoke blood came spurting out of my mouth. Hitting the bonnet with a sickening splat. I looked down at it in shock. I hadn’t seen the sight of my own blood before and it worried me. In the past I had received cuts and bruises but nothing of this magnitude.

  I coughed up another glob of blood before asking the question again. He replied with laughter before speaking in a calm manor. “Ever since you took down that scumbag my employers have been very interested in you. Then Shade was found in a dumpster, dead. They believed that was you who killed him.”

  Actually it had been that woman, I just didn’t stop her. I could have easily told him that but there was no point bringing her into this world. This was about the woman on the photo board.

  “The one question that they keep asking themselves is who you are. You came out of nowhere. No trace of anyone like you in the past and they know a lot of people like you. So, I have been given two contracts. The first doesn’t concern you but I’m sure you’ll be upset about being sloppy seconds.”

  I winced as I tried to shift my weight but it was no good. The wall might have cracked and almost fallen apart from the force of the hit but I was still stuck in this position. “What are you going to do with me then? Kill me?”

  “I will do. First I need to get at least a photo of your ugly mug. Or.” He paused. His eyes looked into mine. I could see the cogs in his head turning. Then he walked off, coming back shortly with something shiny in his hand.

  I wiped my forehead where a cascade of sweat had formed. When I looked at his hand again I saw the large cleaver in his hand. “I suppose I could just cut your head off and hand it over. I’m sure they would like it better than just a photo.”

  “You don’t have to do that.” I was finding it hard to breath.

  “I know. I’ve just always wanted an excuse to do it. All my jobs have required some kind of restraint on my part. It has to seem like an accident
or someone needs to be implicated in the murder. I’ve never gotten the chance to hack someone’s head off.”

  “No.” I could see the glint in his eye. He clearly had the urge for a long time.

  “Now, I use this to cut my meat up so I might need to buy another. I don’t want your freaky blood getting into my system now do I.” He didn’t wait for an answer. He grabbed my head and forced it down to the bonnet in front of me. The bend in my body flaring pain through my whole body.

  I heard his arm move up into the air. Holding that cleaver in his fingers, ready to bring it down upon my neck as many times as it took to cut my head clean from my shoulders.

  “Any last words?”

  “Yeah.”

  I felt him lean in. “Tell me quickly because I’m dying to use my cleaver.”

  “Listen.” My hands fumbled for something nearby. That’s when I grabbed the bumper of the truck. Feeling it shake as I tensed my biceps. “Listen closely.”

  “What?” I felt his breath in my ear, telling me he was as close as he could get. I yanked my head back and swung my arm. The bumper came from the car, snapping where I was pressing my knee. The sound of the metal hitting the man’s head rang out and echoed around the room.

  He fell back holding his bleeding head, shouting about how he was going to kill me. I grabbed the front of the truck, pushing with all my might. The bonnet bent even more before the truck finally slid back. The front axle had broken in half and was scrapping across the floor.

  As soon as I had enough space I fell to my left. Looking down at the damage him smashing the truck into me had made. My left leg had come away from the crash almost unscathed. The right one on the other hand had almost been crushed. Blood was pouring from a gash from my thigh to below my knee.

  I ripped a sleeve from my leather jacket and wrapped it around my thigh, hoping it would help keep enough blood in me so I don’t pass out. I stood to my feet, looking at the mangled truck. That’s when the man came into view.

  He was no longer shouting or holding his head. I had hit him quite hard, the blood still pouring down, staining the front of his vest. “You’re going to pay for that.” He had the look of rage in his eyes.

  “I think you’d find we’re even after you crashed your truck into me.”

  “Not for long.” He moved around the wreck. That’s when I noticed in his hand he held some black fabric. My hands shot up to my face. It was uncovered. A sudden feel of vulnerability hit me. This guy now knew what I looked like. I couldn’t let him walk out of here. Now, he had to die.

  I limped back from him as he progressed further towards me. Then he ran at me, holding that cleaver high above his head. As he came close I moved, trying to use my super speed. I dodged the attack but I put too much pressure on my leg. It gave way and I hit the wall. My attacker turned and was rushing me again. I pushed myself away from the wall.

  My eyes catching a glimpse of my reflection in the window. My mind catalogued the image. Brown hair, short. Ordinary looks.

  I quickly shut down that part of my brain. Not wanting to know what I looked like. Trying to concentrate on the killer who had full use of both his legs. A very big advantage over me. He came at me again. Instead of dodging I moved forwards. The attack going past me until his arm hit my shoulder.

  I pulled down on it flipping him over and letting him drop to the floor hard. My hands gripped his straightened arm and I pulled. Watching the elbow joint dislodge then his forearm bone suddenly broke through the skin. Blood squirted all over the floor.

  His shout came out loud and rough. Shutting him up by putting my hand over his mouth. My free arm curling around his throat and I started squeezing. Cutting his air supply off immediately. Holding onto him as he flailed about like a fish out of water.

  I squeezed and squeezed until his movements became little more than limp gestures. Then I let go, allowing his lungs to fill with precious oxygen. He gasped and gasped until he was able to speak in a weak voice, “Why didn’t you kill me?”

  I grabbed a handful of hair and pulled his head back to look up at me. “I will. I just want some information first.” I reached down and grabbed the cleaver from his powerless hand. Pressing the sharp metal against his neck. “Judging by how much information you give me, the less pain you will feel.”

  “I’m not afraid of pain. You have no idea what I’ve been through.”

  “I don’t but I know what you will be going through if you don’t answer me. Now that is going to be very painful and very long.”

  His eyes held some hint of fear. “What do you want to know?”

  “Who hired you and what’s their interest with the woman in the photos?”

  “I can’t answer the first question because I don’t know.”

  “The second?” Putting a little more pressure on his neck.

  “She’s just someone who’s snooping too much. I was told to take her out before she finds something.”

  “What, is she a reporter?”

  “Yeah.”

  Then it was a good chance my reporter was more than just acquaintances with her. They could even work together. “When were you going to do the hit and where?”

  “I hadn’t gotten that far. I only picked up the job yesterday. I got all these photos in the mail that night.”

  “Is there anything else I should know?”

  “Yeah.” His hand moved. I went to grab it but there was a sudden flash of light. “You need to smile when someone takes your photo.”

  “What!?” I grabbed the phone from his grasp just to see the sent screen fade to black. The receiver of this message was just a number, no name. Anger boiled up. I threw the phone, smashing it against the floor, pieces of it skidding everywhere.

  “What’s the matter? Don’t like your photo been taken?”

  “What I don’t like is your employers acting like they own people. That all it takes is to put money into it and you get what you want. You’re employers are going to know what it’s like to have everything taken from them before I take their lives.”

  “A real life vigilante. What’s your deal? Were you’re parents killed in a tragic crime or are you a rich boy who has gotten bored.” He paused but quickly followed up with, “It doesn’t matter. I’m just so happy I got to meet a real-life one before I die.”

  His voice was full of sarcasm and it just fuelled the anger inside of me. “And I’ll be the last you see.” I looked deep into his eyes before my arms move. Pulling this head sharply to the side, his neck snapped like a toothpick.

  I allowed him to drop to the floor. Quickly grabbing my mask from his dead hand and replacing it back on my head. Happy that my identity was covered I stood up, looking around the room. My eyes fell upon a few canisters. Checking them told me they are full of petrol. Clearly he stocked up so he wasn’t seen at the petrol stations very often.

  I pulled the cap from one of them and started spreading it around the room. Dousing the hired assassin especially. I wanted nothing of him left, not even his teeth. He didn’t deserve anything more than to be a burnt mess that no one could recognise.

  Just as I was about to light a piece of paper from a hob on the oven I saw the photos again. It wasn’t over for her. They would just hire someone else for the same job. Their operation was big enough for it to be done quickly to.

  I just needed to get to her beforehand. I lit the paper and tossed it to the floor. Watching the fire spread. Moving closer and closer to the two petrol canisters I left in the corner.

  On my way out I passed by the body, giving it a final look before carrying on my walk. My foot landing on something that snapped. When I looked I saw it was his phone. Furthermore, I saw the sim card sticking out at an angle.

  It was his only personal record that I had seen around this motel. I bent down and lifted it from the electrical mess. This could hold a lot of useful information and I had a computer that could read it. Also, if I was lucky, I could find who he sent that picture to. Perfect.

 
; I stood at my car, watching the glow of fire grow brighter. Happy that it would engulf everything inside I climbed into the car. Heading back to the city and finding the parking spot I had taken it from.

  I hadn’t passed any police cars and no one seemed to take notice of the car. Which meant it hadn’t been reported missing and my plan had worked. I locked the car after wiping away any blood that had come from my wound which had slowly stopped bleeding on my way back.

  I dropped the keys on the floor on my way out. Kicking them into the shadows where I bumped into him. They would just think they accidently dropped them and everything would be fine. They get their car back and I got information with the hope of more.

  I climbed up to my natural habitat that was the city’s roofs. Way above the busy streets and away from any prying eyes. I was alone up here and that’s the way I preferred it to be. Alone.

  03/07/2014 AM

  I had spent all morning preparing myself. Not mentally. I knew every piece of information I had put in the files. I had even memorized most of Felicity’s work. I was preparing physically. I had two showers already and I hadn’t even had breakfast. My ribs were aching a little but nowhere near as much as yesterday. These pills were really good. I took another for the day.

  Trying on different clothes, wanting to look just right for her. I had no idea why. This wasn’t a date. It was just two co-workers meeting for lunch to talk about an article. That was all. She hadn’t implied anything that would make me think it was a date when she left me a message this morning.

  Yet, here I was staring at myself in the bathroom mirror wandering if the twenty minutes I had spent gelling my hair was long enough. It still looked like I had just rolled out of bed. I blew out a big sigh and flattened it.

  I climbed back in the shower after undressing just to wash out the gel. Once I was dressed again in a different set of clothes from before I exited the door. Heading down to the street holding onto the large pile of files as I walked.