Wings In Darkness

by Gregory Kay

  “I wonder what’s inside that igloo.”

  The double steel doors were closed but unlocked. After motioning Fiona back and warning her about snakes that could be dislodged and fall from the overhanging underbrush atop the dome when the doors were opened, she stood well out of the way while he heaved one the heavy panels apart on groaning hinges and ascertained that the coast was clear.

  As the shaft of sunlight cut across the cement floor, reflecting upward and lighting up the interior, revealing the walls, she whispered, “Oh my God!”

  “I don’t think God had anything to do with this,” Luke said grimly.

  Graffiti lined the walls in a ring about four feet off the floor, but it wasn’t the usual nicknames, insults, crude drawings, or boasts of sexual prowess and conquest normally left by ‘taggers.’ Instead, it was a series of carefully-reproduced geometric occult symbols, each one different from the last. They circled from one side of the door to the other, and, when she glanced at the steel portal, saw they crossed the doors as well, making an unbroken circumference when they were closed.

  The floor appeared to have been swept recently; at least there was none of the debris in here that littered some of the other structures. Instead, there was a large pentagram within a carefully-laid-out circle, the spaces filled with more symbols and the words of incantations, and its points marked with globs of black wax, and the stumps of the candles that had produced it.

  The dark energy of the place was so heavy and disturbing it was almost a palpable thing, like a thick, semi-liquid mist that one could almost touch but not quite breathe, and an overwhelming aura of fear emanated from it. Fiona quickly grew nauseous, and had to force herself to do her job and take photograph after photograph, despite the oppressive atmosphere weighing down on her.

  She could tell Luke felt it too, but he refused to leave her in there alone, and spent his time looking the interior over while keeping one eye on her so as not to get in the way her pictures.

  “Dried blood,” he said in a remarkably flat, emotionless tone, pointing at spatters across the floor, “Either they’ve ceremonially spilled some of their own, or something has been sacrificed here.”

  “Do you think it’s...” Her flash was flickering like a strobe as she shot the area he’d indicated, but, with the unreasonable fear still building, she was unable to bring herself to take her question to its obvious conclusion.

  Audibly sucking in his breath between his clenched teeth, partly at the surreal situation and partly because the place’s negative vibes were giving him a major headache, he said, “I don’t know. I doubt it, but I don’t know. I’ll call Harry as soon as we get out of here; he’ll probably want to take some samples for the crime lab, just to make sure.” Shaking his head, he added, “Most likely, the explanation for at least some of those missing pets or goats is right here.”

  “Shit! What causes people to do stuff like this?”

  “Damned if I know,” he told her, looking around, “Sometimes I think there’s just some places that bring out the worst in people. I feel safe in saying this is one of them!”

  Looking around, he added, “If you don’t mind, let’s get your pictures and get the hell out of here. I’m not superstitious or anything, but something just doesn’t feel right about this place.”

  “You do feel it then; it’s not just me?”

  “No, it’s not just you. Every hair on my body feels like it’s standing on end right now; I feel like there's something bad wrong here.”

  “Me too,” she assured him, and quickly got the photos she wanted, anxious to get out of there.

  Once they were back in the dappled sunshine, Luke told her, “I feel like an idiot, now that I’m out here. There was nothing in there that could hurt us.”

  “I’m not so sure of that,” Fiona told him while she switched out the battery in her camera for a fresh one, “There was some seriously bad energy in there. As Assistant Paranormal Editor, I’ve gotten the chance to investigate a few hauntings, a couple of them genuine. The feeling at those was a lot like we felt in there.” Snapping the battery cover closed and pocketing the exhausted one, she gestured back over her shoulder with her thumb. “But this...this was way more intense than anything I’ve ever encountered before. It’s like there was something lurking inside there, just out of sight, ready to pounce.”

  “I know exactly what you mean, and I kept looking, but there was nowhere out of sight they could be.”

  “I know, and that’s what really scares me.”

  Fiona stopped to take photos of the skeletons behind the igloo, and then they walked back to the car with no return of even a hint of the fear that had almost overwhelmed them; in fact, it was pleasant, nothing but birdsong and the autumn wind rustling the leaves and making the whitish tufts of dead grass wave and dance.

  He’d stepped to her side of the Jeep to open the door for her, ignoring her protests that she could do it herself, when he noticed something on the ground just off the edge of the road, half-hidden by the weeds.

  “Looks like somebody lost their tags,” he said, straightening up with a license plate in his hand, “West Virginia. It looks recent, too, probably some squirrel hunter or parker, although it could be...” After seeing the blood in the igloo, both of them knew very well who it could be, or, if not who, what. “I’ll call it in and see if we can’t get it back to them, save them a few dollars at the DMV.” Looking at the plate once more, the numbers seemed vaguely familiar, but before he could think about it much, Fiona had a sudden revelation.

  “Luke, what’s your middle name?”

  He blushed a deep red.

  “Never mind.”

  “No, seriously; what is it?”

  “None of your business,” he declared, throwing the temporarily-forgotten plate into the backseat, the shade of red on his cheeks growing darker, making her grin.

  “I’ll bet I know what it is,” she teased in a sing-song voice, “I know it starts with ‘S,’ so – “

  “How do you know that?”

  “I saw your signature on the report back in the Sheriff’s Office. Anyway, I’ve been wondering about your first name; I really like Luke, but it’s a name you don’t hear everyday.”

  “I’m not going to tell you, so you might as well drop it. As far as I know, nobody alive knows what it is, and I intend to keep it that way.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s embarrassing!”

  “I think it’s cute!”

  “You don’t even know what it is!”

  “I do too!” With a triumphant smile, she said, “It’s simple deduction. Your first name is Luke, your middle initial is ‘S,’ your mother was rather...eccentric...and you said earlier she was a Star Wars fan.”

  “Fiona...” he said warningly, reddening even more, but she gleefully pushed on.

  “The force is strong in you, young Skywalker,” she told him in her best imitation of Darth Vader, which admittedly wasn’t much, but it was enough to get the point across; he seemed to deflate right in front of her eyes, hanging his head and looking like a six-foot-four little kid who had been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

  “Shit...”

  “I still think it’s cute.”

  “I don’t, and the last thing I wanted was for that to be public! I’ve always told everyone it was Simon.”

  Her brows furrowed.

  “Simon? Why in the world did you pick Simon?”

  He was obviously embarrassed all over again. “It was when I was six and started school, the teacher asked me and it was the first thing that came to mind. I had kinda...been watching Alvin and the Chipmunks the night before...”

  Fiona laughed until she thought she would wet herself, at least until she saw Luke looking miserably away. She deliberately bumped his arm with her elbow.

  “Hey, I was only teasing; lighten up.”

  “I know,” he sighed, “but it’s always been so damned embarrassing, and now it’s going to end up i
n The Arrow for God and everybody to see.”

  “Hey!” she said again, this time much more sharply, “I might tease you myself, but I would never humiliate you in public like that, even if I thought it was something to be ashamed of, which I don’t.” She put her hand on his arm and left it there this time. “I promise, okay?”

  “Okay,” he said reluctantly and somewhat doubtfully, and she was suddenly struck with an irresistible idea. Her good sense railed at her, but she deliberately ignored it. “Don’t you trust me?”

  “You know I trust you.”

  “Then close your eyes, and lean down here where I can reach you, you big goof-ball!”

  He did, and she took his face in both hands just like he had hers earlier, and kissed him.

  A moment later, without breaking their lips apart, he had picked her up and set her on the hood of the Jeep, and was standing between her denim-clad legs. Their kisses grew deeper, hungrier, almost ferocious, as if they were trying to devour one another, and Fiona’s legs instinctively locked around his waist. When he transferred his questing mouth to her ears, her neck, and the sensitive line under her jaw, his hands found their way inside her jacket and beneath her shirt to stroke the smooth, bare skin of her lower back. Her lips parted and she moaned and dug her fingers into the cloth of his jacket. Her eyes opened briefly, and...

  “Luke! Look out!”

  He spun, already drawing his pistol as he turned, just in time to see a large patch of black fur flash as a startled animal disappeared into the brush not twenty feet from them. The noise of its retreat faded away, and in less than a handful of seconds, there was no evidence it had ever been.

  Standing there, his weapon still pointed, Luke asked in a voice still hoarse from interrupted passion, “Was that...what I think it was?”

  “It was a big black cat, only not a cat; more like a leopard or...a panther! That’s what it looked like!”

  “That thing was as big as you are!”

  “It looked even bigger to me,” she told him. Honestly, it looked like it was as big as a lion to me, standing that close! Logically, she knew his estimate was closer. Still...

  “It’s a cryptid!”

  Luke looked at her blankly.

  “A what-id?”

  “A cryptid.” Her voice was growing calmer and less high-pitched as the fear faded and a mingled sense of relief and disappointment over what had been interrupted started to set in. “It’s like Bigfoot: an unknown animal, not recognized by science and quite possibly mythical.”

  “That one didn’t look very mythical.”

  “No, it certainly didn’t. It was right there...”

  Shaking his head ruefully as he holstered his weapon, Luke told her, “I’ve heard about those damned black cats all my life, but this is the first one I’ve actually seen.”

  Her eyes widened and turned away from the spot where the creature had been crouched and locked on him.

  “You mean you have those things around here and people know about them?”

  “Sure; I know a few people personally that have seen them, usually while hunting. As far as I know, they’ve never attacked anybody, although they do tend to scare the crap out of people who run onto them unexpectedly.” He chuckled. “Right now, I can vouch for that.” A pause, then, “I may be giving those idiots who did whatever they did in that igloo too much credit; I’ll bet more than a few of those small animal disappearances and mutilations in this area are courtesy of that thing right there, along with his brothers and sisters.”

  Fiona glared at him, shocked.

  “Why didn’t you tell me those things were here?”

  The irritation was plain in her voice, and Luke blew out his breath at the tone’s return. Just when things were going so good!

  “You never asked me.”

  “Never asked you? You knew I was looking for anything paranormal!”

  He looked away for a moment, gathering his fraying temper until he could respond calmly instead of snapping right back at her.

  “Did it ever occur to you that maybe no one around here thinks of them as paranormal? They’ve always been here; people have talked about them at least since my grandfather’s time, if not before. To us, it’s just another animal, scarier than most, just a big black cat.” Glaring at the spot where it had disappeared, he added, “And it comes with even more bad luck than the smaller ones, at least for me!”

  “I’m sorry,” Fiona said in a small, sad voice, “It just didn’t occur to me you would consider it natural. I...I snapped at you out of habit. God!” She looked away as she slammed her fist down on her own thigh, as if punishing herself. “I’m just so stupid sometimes!”

  “No!” It was his turn to be sharp. “You might be a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them.” Stepping close to her once more, he took her chin in his left hand and gently but firmly forced her to face him. With his right, he brushed a stray curl out of her moist eyes. “Bitchy, maybe, sometimes, but that’s not really you either; that’s just a bad habit, like biting your nails. No, not stupid, not bitchy, more like beautiful, desirable...” He lowered his face to hers while he was speaking, but she turned so his lips fell on her cheek.

  “Luke, I kind of lost my head a minute ago; I’m not ready to...go all the way with you.” She paused and wiped her eyes with the tips of her index fingers. “Oh man, listen to me; I sound like a junior high girl! I mean, I want to, I really do, so much, but not yet. Please try to understand.”

  She saw the disappointment in his eyes, but his voice was soft when he asked her, “Are you happy with how far we’ve gone up till now?”

  “Yeah.” That wasn’t a lie, no matter how unhappy she knew she’d be later, “I am happy with that, happier than I’ve been for a long time. I just don’t want to get you all worked up and then...let you down.” She shrugged helplessly. “It just feels so good when you hold me, I...I...”

  Without a word, he turned and moved to the car where she still sat, sat down on the hood beside her, twisted to pick her up, and pulled her onto his lap.

  “Then that’s how far we’ll go, until you’re ready. To be honest, when we make love the first time, I’d like it to be somewhere a little bit more high-class than a parked car; you deserve better.”

  Fiona didn't miss his use of the word “when,” not “if.”

  “And I’ll tell you something else,” she heard him continue, “it feels really good to me just to hold you too...and to kiss you.” He paused long enough to do so, softly, and she slipped her arms around his neck, put her head on his shoulder, and silently cried where he couldn’t see her tears.

  I’ve never felt this way about anyone! Oh God, what am I going to do?

  Once they were back in the car, Fiona wiped her eyes, desperately sought something else to talk about, and asked, “Why is that area over there closed?”

  Luke looked toward the other side of Potter’s Creek road in the direction she'd just indicated. Several signs lined the area, forbidding trespass, and warning of severe penalties for violators.

  “Oh, that. Remember I told you some of these igloos are rented out for storage of explosives? Well, a couple of years ago, one of them owned by an ammunition company exploded, blowing the igloo completely apart.”

  Thinking of the thick concrete and earth and the massive steel doors, Fiona observed, “That must have been quite a bang. Was anyone hurt?”

  The deputy shook his head.

  “No, fortunately nobody was around at the time. They say the powder became unstable and spontaneously detonated, and that two or three others back in there have the same stuff in them. The Fire Marshal closed the area for safety reasons, and everybody’s still arguing about what to do about it.

  “It’s a shame, really; that’s some of the best hunting and fishing out there, behind those gates.”

  “I’m surprised people pay much attention to the signs, out here in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Oh, they’re serious about it,” he assured
her, “They’ve got game wardens enforcing it, and they’ll impound anything you have with you if you’re caught even parked on that side of the road; guns, fishing gear, even your car.”

  “Good grief! I know they need to keep people safe, but don’t you think they’re overreacting just a little?”

  “Yeah, I do,” he said, reinforcing it with another nod, “Actually, I’ve wondered about that quite a bit.”

  CHAPTER 19

  If the dictionary had a picture of an average middle class home, it would probably have looked like the one belonging to the Parks. There was nothing pretentious about the single-story brick house, other than the obvious care with which both it and the lot it was on were maintained. A row of trimmed evergreen shrubs marched neatly along the front, saved from a sense of stuffy formality by the jagged silhouettes of interspersed rhododendrons and azaleas. One side of the yard played host to a big maple tree, balanced out by a small flower garden complete with a bird feeder and bird bath on the other, and colorful fall mums and flowering kale bordered the concrete sidewalk.

  “Nice place for someone who’s an abusive dick,” Fiona observed dryly as they pulled into the drive, causing Luke to chuckle even while he shook his head in denial. They were in the cruiser again, having swapped the Jeep for it temporarily in order to gain the psychological advantage of looking ‘official’ for awhile; Luke knew Alison’s father well, and considering how pissed-off he knew the man still had to be, he figured it might make things go a little smoother.

  “Joe Parks may be a lot of things – Well, to be honest, he can be a real dick sometimes – but abusive isn’t one of them.”

  “He was going to whip his daughter, Johnny told us.”

  Luke shrugged.

  “What’s your point? Are you telling me your dad never spanked you?”

  “Well...” She involuntarily squirmed a little, embarrassed by the question. “Yeah, of course he did, and my mom too, but I wasn’t seventeen.”

  “How old were you?”

  Fiona glared at him, her cheeks reddening.

  “Sixteen, if you must know, nosy! And don’t ask why, because it’s none of your business!”