Out of the Light
Page 3
Jan walked to it. The pool bulged once toward him, then its last light died, and Jan stood in the dark. He waited before flicking on his light. The pool was a dull grey. He kicked, and it shattered with a crystal cry, imploding into sparkling powder.
He opened the door and stepped out into the alley. Solly and Kate both backed away, eyeing him warily. “Is it really you?” Kate asked. “Or that thing?”
“Your name is Kate Lockridge, his is Sully,” he said, “and whatever that thing was, it wasn’t a were-pigeon.”
Laughing and with tears in her eyes, Kate threw her arms around him. Back on the street, Solly checked every bit of neon in sight, then fixed Jan with that eye. “Gotta know the signs,” he said.
Jan phoned the police about Carla’s body and left a message for Garos to call.
“So what now, hunter?” Kate asked.
Solly stared up at Jan. “You gonna get the others, too?”
Jan and Kate turned to him. “Others?” Kate groaned.
Jan shrugged then looked at her. “I could use a partner.” She said nothing but took his hand as they walked Solly home.
They took Talbot.
~~~
Thirty-five. A midnight street. He waits in the dark, watching the signs. She waits beside him. He knows the ways of the beast; she knows these streets. A town pays well to be rid of its creatures of the night. Creatures that breathe ozone like a summer breeze, wear glass for skin and burn electricity in their veins. Creatures that feed on this realm of the lonely.
Once, he shunned the dark where shadows hide their secrets. Now he stalks the night streets, a shadow himself slipping from alley to alley. Now he keeps to the dark.
And stays out of the light.
About the Story
I loved Jack London as a kid. Loved any stories about animals, really, which perhaps explains my fascination with shapeshifter stories. Every society around the world has had (or still has) shapeshifter legends. Were-wolves in France, were-tigers in India, were-lions in Africa. Simply put, wherever there are animals, there are legends of people who can change into them. Which led me to the question which led to this story: what sort of shapeshifter would live in a modern city?
About the Author
“Doug Smith is, quite simply, the finest short-story writer Canada has ever produced in the science fiction and fantasy genres... His stories are a treasure trove of riches that will touch your heart while making you think.”
—Robert J. Sawyer, Hugo Award-winning author
“A great storyteller with a gifted and individual voice.”
—Charles de Lint, award-winning fantasy author
“One of Canada’s most original writers of speculative fiction.”
—Library Journal
Douglas Smith is a multi-award winning Canadian author whose work has appeared in twenty-five languages and over thirty countries. His fiction includes the urban fantasy novel, The Wolf at the End of the World, and the collections Chimerascope, Impossibilia, and La Danse des Esprits. His non-fiction guide for writers, Playing the Short Game: How to Market & Sell Short Fiction, is a must read for any short story writer.
Doug is a three-time winner of Canada’s Aurora Award, and has been a finalist for the John W. Campbell Award, CBC’s Bookies Award, Canada’s juried Sunburst Award, and France’s juried Prix Masterton and Prix Bob Morane. A short film based on Doug’s story “By Her Hand, She Draws You Down” won several awards when it toured film festivals around the world.
His website is www.smithwriter.com and he tweets at twitter.com/smithwritr. You can join Doug’s irregular mailing list at www.smithwriter.com/mailing_list.
Other Works by Douglas Smith
Novels
The Wolf at the End of the World (Lucky Bat Books, 2013)
Collections
Chimerascope (ChiZine Publications, Canada, 2010) Finalist for the Sunburst Award, Aurora Award, and CBC’s Bookies Award
Impossibilia (PS Publishing, UK, 2008) Aurora Award Finalist
La Danse des Esprits (Dreampress, France, 2011, translated) Finalist for the Prix Masterton and Prix Bob Morane
Non-Fiction
Playing the Short Game: How to Market & Sell Short Fiction (Lucky Bat Books, 2014)
Short Stories
“Spirit Dance” (1997) Aurora Award Finalist
“New Year’s Eve” (1998) Aurora Award Finalist
“State of Disorder” (1999) Aurora Award Finalist
“Symphony” (1999) Aurora Award Finalist
“What’s in a Name?” (2000)
“The Boys Are Back in Town” (2000)
“La Danse des Esprits” (2001) AURORA AWARD WINNER (French translation)
“The Red Bird” (2001) Aurora Award Finalist
“By Her Hand, She Draws You Down” (2001) Aurora Award Finalist; Best New Horror selection
“Scream Angel” (2003) AURORA AWARD WINNER
“Jigsaw” (2004) Aurora Award Finalist
“Enlightenment” (2004) Aurora Award Finalist
“Going Harvey in the Big House” (2005) Aurora Award Finalist
“Memories of the Dead Man” (2006)
“The Last Ride” (2006)
“A Taste Sweet and Salty” (2006)
“Murphy’s Law” (2006)
“The Dancer at the Red Door” (2007) Aurora Award Finalist
“Out of the Light” (2007)
“Bouquet of Flowers in a Vase, by van Gogh” (2008) Aurora Award Finalist
“Going Down to Lucky Town” (2008)
“Doorways” (2008)
“Radio Nowhere” (2009) Aurora Award Finalist
“Nothing” (2010)
“A Bird in the Hand” (2010)
“Fiddleheads” (2011)
“The Walker of the Shifting Borderland” (2012) AURORA AWARD WINNER
“Dream Flight” (2013)
“The Last of a Thing” (2016)
Specialty Books
“By Her Hand, She Draws You Down”: The Official Movie Companion Book (2010)
A complete list of Doug’s published fiction is available on his website along with excerpts and reviews of his work. An excerpt of The Wolf at the End of the World is also included in the following pages. All of Doug’s works are available in a variety of formats. See his bookstore for where you can buy them.
Join Doug’s mailing list to be notified of new books and stories, award news, and events Doug will be attending.
Chimerascope
Sunburst Award finalist
Aurora Award finalist
CBC’s Bookies Award finalist
Chimerascope [ki-meer-uh-skohp] — a story of many parts…
Doug’s second collection contains sixteen of his best stories, including an award winner, a Best New Horror selection, and eight award finalists. Stories of fantasy and science fiction that take you from love in fourteenth-century Japan to humanity’s last stand, from virtual reality to the end of reality, from alien drug addictions to a dinner where a man loses everything.
“His stories are a treasure trove of riches that will touch your heart while making you think.”
—Robert J. Sawyer, Hugo Award-winning author
“A massively enjoyable trek…all filtered through Smith’s remarkable imagination and prodigious talent.”
—Quill and Quire (starred review)
“The 16 stories in this collection showcase the inventive mind and immense storytelling talent of one of Canada’s most original writers of speculative fiction.”
—Library Journal
“An entertaining selection of stories that deftly span multiple genres.”
—Publishers Weekly
“An engaging and entertaining volume, pieces of whose content resonate after the book is finished.”
—Booklist
“Douglas Smith is an extraordinary author whom every lover of quality speculative fiction should read. Rating: A+”
—Fantasy Book Critic
“Ar
restingly inventive premises in a field where really interesting new ideas are harder and harder to find. …Smith is definitely an author who deserves to be more widely read.”
—Strange Horizons
“A beautifully diverse selection of short tales…well-crafted, easily digestible; several of the stories are incredibly moving and stick with the reader long after.”
—Sunburst Award jury
“Smith is a master of beginnings…some of the most well-crafted hooks you’ll find anywhere…[with] endings that feel satisfying and right.”
—Canadian Science Fiction Review
~~~
For more information on Chimerascope, including full buying links for all major retailers, please go to http://www.smithwriter.com/chimerascope.
Impossibilia
Aurora Award Finalist
Doug’s first collection contains three novelettes, including an award winner and an award finalist. Stories of wonder with characters that you won’t forget. Characters who, like any of us, have things they hide inside—secrets, fears, aspects of themselves they keep locked away. Or try to.
Only their things are a little…different.
A painter who talks to Vincent van Gogh
A shapeshifter hunting one of his own
The secret to being the luckiest man alive
Welcome to Impossibilia!
“The finest short-story writer Canada has ever produced in the science fiction and fantasy genres.”
—Robert J. Sawyer, Hugo and Nebula Award winning author
“One of Canada’s most original writers of speculative fiction.”
—Library Journal
“A great storyteller with a gifted and individual voice.”
—Charles de Lint, World Fantasy Award winning author
“In the grand manner that harks back to Bradbury and Sturgeon and Ellison.”
—Chaz Brenchley
“In my search for the perfect short story, the three in this volume certainly qualify.”
—SF Crowsnest Book Reviews
For more, please see the collection Impossibilia.
The Wolf At The End Of The World
© Douglas Smith
Introduction by World Fantasy Award winner, Charles de Lint
A shapeshifter hero battles ancient spirits, a covert government agency, and his own dark past in a race to solve a murder that could mean the end of the world.
Cree and Ojibwe legends mix with current day environmental conflict in this fast-paced urban fantasy that keeps you on the edge of your seat right up to its explosive conclusion. With an introduction by Charles de Lint.
~~~
The Heroka walk among us. Unseen, unknown. Shapeshifters. Human in appearance but with power over their animal totems.
Gwyn Blaidd is a Heroka of the wolf totem. Once he led his people in a deadly war against the Tainchel, the shadowy agency that hunts his kind. Now he lives alone in his wilderness home, wolves his only companions.
But when an Ojibwe girl is brutally killed in Gwyn’s old hometown, suspicion falls on his former lover. To save her, Gwyn must return, to battle not only the Tainchel, but even darker forces: ancient spirits fighting to enter our world…
And rule it.
~~~
“An immersive and enjoyable reading experience. Readers will delight in learning more about Native American mythology, which is skillfully woven throughout the story. Smith’s novel is both well paced and deftly plotted—leaving readers curious about what comes next for the Heroka in the modern world.”
—Publishers Weekly
“What makes The Wolf at the End of the World such an engrossing read are the characters and Doug’s wonderful prose, a perfect blend between matter-of-fact and lyricism. I can’t remember the last time I read a book that spoke to me, so eloquently, and so deeply, on so many levels. ... I’ll be rereading it in the future because it’s that sort of book. Richly layered and deeply resonant. An old friend, from the first time you read it.”
—Charles de Lint, World Fantasy Award winner
~~~
Author’s note: The Wolf at the End of the World takes place five years after the events in my award-winning novelette, “Spirit Dance” (available in my collection, Impossibilia, or as a stand-alone ebook). In the novel, Gwyn Blaidd, the hero of “Spirit Dance,” battles ancient native spirits, the shadowy Tainchel, and his own dark past in a race to solve a murder that might mean the end of the world. If you enjoyed “Spirit Dance,” here’s your chance to continue your journey with Gwyn, Ed, Leiddia, Mitch, and a host of new characters.
Chapter 1: Mary
Everything had gone wrong, and now Mary Two Rivers was running away. Away from the dam site, away from the damage they’d done, stumbling through the bush in the dark, trying to keep up with Jimmy White Creek and ahead of the security guards. And the dogs. She could hear dogs barking now.
What had she been thinking? Why had she gone along with Jimmy and the rest of them? She was an A student. She was going to university in the fall. She had plans, plans to get off the Rez. Plans that didn’t include jail.
Hanging a banner over the dam to protest the loss of Ojibwe land was one thing, but then somebody had poured gasoline on one of the construction vehicles and lit it on fire. And she’d let herself be part of it.
Just because Jimmy had a cute smile and cuter butt—a butt that was getting farther and farther ahead of her as she struggled to keep up. She was a bookworm, not an athlete, and the ground was starting to rise. Jimmy was heading for the west ridge overlooking the still dormant dam and its reservoir lake. She didn’t know where the other kids were. Everyone had scattered when the guards appeared, and she’d followed Jimmy. Or tried to.
“Jimmy!” she cried in a desperate whisper. “Wait up!” She didn’t know these woods anymore. If she lost him, she doubted she’d get far before the guards caught her.
Jimmy stopped on the hill ahead of her, chest heaving, breath hanging misty in the chill October air. The moonlight caught his pale, sweating face, and in that moment, she wondered how she’d ever thought he was handsome. “Mary, you gotta keep up,” he panted, his voice breaking. “There’s a path through the trees on top of the ridge. We’ll lose them in there and cut back to the Rez.” He started up the slope again, not waiting for her.
Forcing her trembling legs to move, she kept climbing. Jimmy disappeared over the top. Half a minute later, she scrambled up the last few yards. She looked around. Jimmy was nowhere in sight.
The tall jack pines stood closer here, the undergrowth thick between them, their high tops touching, blocking off the cold light from the waxing half moon. Whatever path Jimmy had taken was invisible, hidden by darkness.
She was alone and lost.
She sank to the ground, shaking. She was going to be caught. She was going to jail. What would her parents say? Their dream was for her to get a degree, to beat the odds of being born on the Rez. Their dream….
She swore softly to herself. Her dream, too. She stood up, anger conquering her fear. They would not catch her. Sucking in a deep breath, she let it out slowly to calm herself as she looked back down the hill she’d just climbed.
The dam and its dark captured lake lay in the distance below. Five burly figures were climbing the bottom of the hill. But worse, ahead of the guards, two gray shadows leapt over the rocks and brush of the slope. The dogs would reach her in less than a minute.
Turning back to the forest, she listened for any sound of Jimmy running ahead. There. Had that been a branch snapping deep in the woods? She moved in the direction of the noise, tripping over unseen rocks and roots. One patch of darkness loomed blacker than the rest. She stepped closer. It seemed to be an opening through the trees. Praying for this to be the path that Jimmy had taken, she plunged ahead.
As she moved into the forest, her eyes slowly adjusted to the deeper darkness under the trees, aided by the occasional sliver of moonlight slicing through the canopy of branches above.
This was definitely a path. She paused a moment, straining to hear any sound of pursuit. The dogs were still barking, but they didn’t sound any closer.
The barking stopped. In the sudden silence, she heard the yip of a fox. She shuddered, remembering a saying of her misoomish, her grandfather. “Bad luck,” he’d told her as a child. “You hear a fox bark in the night, that’s bad luck.” But then the dogs took up their call again, and she allowed herself a small thrill of hope. The barking was fainter now. The dogs, and presumably the men with them, were moving away from her. They hadn’t found this path.
She was going to get away. The tension gripping her vanished, and her shaking legs gave way. She collapsed onto the soft cushion of pine needles that covered the ground, sweat soaking her t-shirt under her parka. She hugged her knees to her chest, shivering from the chill and the adrenaline still in her.
Now that the immediate danger was gone, another thought came to her. Just last week, a worker had died at the dam site. Animal attack, the cops had said. She swallowed. Because his body had been partially eaten.
Suddenly, huddled on the forest floor in the dark, she didn’t feel quite as safe as she had a moment before. She wanted nothing more than to be home in her own bed, to hear her parents in the next room, talking or arguing, she didn’t care which, just so long as she was out of this nightmare. With that image filling her heart, she stood and started along the path once more, still praying to catch Jimmy, to have him lead her out of these woods, to lead her home.