Shadow People

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Shadow People Page 6

by Bevill, C. L.


  He drove in that direction and kept his eyes open. So far the police band indicated nothing that would aid him or the thief, but in the dense population of the city of Dallas it wouldn’t be long. Seven-foot masked giants and black creatures with terrifying red eyes didn’t go unnoticed here. Then he heard the urgent call about countless unknown perpetrators breaking windows on a nearby DART train and knew that his wait was over.

  *

  Lights from cars passing on the viaduct behind them illuminated the interior of the train car in spits and spurts. Various beams of light washed over the nightmarish scene and gave it the illusion of a B-grade Hollywood slasher.

  Officer McAdams had his service weapon out and pointed at the ground in-between himself and the nearest blackish thing approaching him. His voice had gotten high with apprehension, and he yelled at the shape, “POLICE! Freeze! I mean, FREEZE!”

  Next to Penelope a man stood petrified with fear, backed up as far as he could against the car’s wall. In his hands he clutched a small Igloo cooler as if it would save his life. It was about the size to carry a six-pack of beer and a sandwich. But instead of Styrofoam, it was constructed of a solid plastic and looked to be about the right size for bashing out a nearby window. Penelope snatched it out of the man’s hands and watched the look of disbelief replace the one of fear on his face. “Hey!” he protested with an incredulous grunt. “That’s my beer!”

  “I’m just borrowing it,” Penelope said reassuringly. She spun on her heels and let the momentum of her spin carry the Igloo through the window. Then she used the little cooler to smash the rough edges away. Behind her the police officer cast a harried and fearful glance over his shoulder and proceeded to ignore her. He was a lot more interested in the two dark figures closing on him, the very same two figures that would not stop, that would not listen to him.

  “EVERYONE GET THE HELL ON THE FLOOR!” McAdams screamed.

  Penelope winced as his sidearm fired a rapid burst of shots at the closest shape and threw the Igloo on the floor beside the man she’d taken it from. She threw her head out the broken window of the door she had been standing in front of and looked around for other things that might be waiting for her. Notable examples would have been the seven-foot guy in the twisted mask or the beautiful woman who was obviously constructed of undiluted malevolence. Those were two individuals that Penelope did not care to run into anytime soon or anytime in the future.

  She didn’t look back when McAdams finished his clip and reloaded. However, when she got her feet out of the window, dropping to the tracks below the train with a groan and a thud, she heard a screaming that chilled her blood to icicles. McAdams was thrown against the side of the car, and Penelope looked up in time to see his face meet the glass in a distortion of pain. A spider web of cracks appeared just as his face connected, and the terrified agony in his face made Penelope cringe with abject fear.

  A moment later the inside of the train was utterly silent. Then a woman started to cry, and Penelope shook herself loose from her horror. Whatever was chasing her wasn’t interested in the police; they weren’t interested in anything but her and what she had stolen. She had to run. She tripped over the tracks and caught herself halfway to the ground.

  Throwing an anxious glance over her shoulder she saw one of the dark figures slithering out the window like a wild, rabid animal and increased her pace. There was a cleared path beside the tracks, and Penelope took to that like a sure-footed goat. She had chosen the direction arbitrarily but knew that she was headed for another group of people. Somewhere around there would be another car and a possibility to escape by borrowing that car. The more space she put between herself and her pursuers the better.

  Suddenly, Penelope stopped in her tracks like something that had turned instantly to lead. On the other end of the train tracks was movement. She could see the huge figure with the mask, the bright colors and large shape briefly illuminated by intermittent headlights of passing vehicles. Next to him was the woman with the long black hair, sauntering leisurely along the side of the tracks. Behind her were more with radiant eyes in the gloomy Dallas night. All had slowed to a walk, given Penelope’s seeming entrapment.

  She carefully looked around her. There was the train and confused people looking out darkened windows. There was no help to be had there. The conductor had stopped the train for some reason and Penelope suspected that the conductor had stopped for a very bad reason in the form of another red-eyed creep inside the car with him. The police officer had been put out of commission or killed. If there were other cops on board the DART train, then they weren’t making a rapid appearance in Penelope’s defense.

  Things didn’t look good. She shifted the bag on her shoulder and wondered if they would go away if she tossed the bag at them. Somehow given their previous exertions to regain their possessions, Penelope didn’t think that was going to be an option. She took a step back and looked around again. Another figure had joined the two behind her. In another minute she was going to be completely cut off.

  Then an eerie voice floated down the viaduct toward her. “Penelope,” it called. Penelope’s mouth opened in astonishment. The voice sounded like…but she was sure that it couldn’t be his voice. Not possible, she thought frantically. Not him. “Penelope,” it repeated spine-chillingly. “There’s no place to go. You won’t die. You’ll just join us. It’s not so bad.”

  “Jeremy,” Penelope whispered harshly. Her good friend apparently was not in the Caribbean with his honey. While Penelope looked anxiously over her shoulder and peered down the darkened tracks to see her only friend, the others did not hesitate. The multicolored mask of the giant bobbed in time with his long, discordant strides down the sides of the tracks. He made the black-haired woman at his side seem amazingly petite.

  Penelope couldn’t tell where Jeremy’s odd sounding voice was coming from. It seemed as though it was emitted from the two in front of her, but she couldn’t be positive. “Penelope,” it called again, and her backbone hardened into cement. Jeremy wouldn’t simply join these people. It’s a recording or something to fool me. They know who I am, somehow, and…

  She knew how it sounded. And she was trapped. But a saying from Jacob Quick came flooding through her mind at just the right time that allowed her to return to the present situation at hand and come up with the fast solution that would get her ass out of a sling. A determined expression came over Penelope’s face. She didn’t know what was happening or what she had stumbled into, but she wasn’t going to lie down and present her belly.

  Under her breath and ignoring her racing heart, she repeated one of her father’s infrequent quotes, “It ain’t over until the fat thief squeals for a lawyer.”

  Then Penelope took the only way out that she had left. She spun to her left, broke into a loping run and dove over the retaining wall of the viaduct. The bridge sat about fifty feet above the water of the Trinity River which was, even in the wettest years, notoriously low.

  Chapter Seven

  Friday, July 4th

  Taking it on the lam (slang, origin probably American, circa 1885-90) - hasty escape, to run away, to flee

  Downtown traffic was starting to congest the streets. Will looked up and saw that the fireworks show from the Trinity Fest had come to a frantic and scintillating conclusion, and that was the reason that people were headed for their respective homes. He listened to the police band while he scanned the streets and deftly avoided other vehicles. Turning on the infamous Elm Street he could see Dealey Plaza and the Texas Schoolbook Repository. He turned the car again and headed directly south, where the increasingly anxious calls of a police operator were directing him. By the time he reached the Houston Street Viaduct he was stopped by heavy traffic. Something ahead was blocking the way.

  Will yanked the car over to the side as far as he could go and turned on the emergency blinkers. Bringing the night vision goggles with him, he exited the vehicle. Angry drivers honked protestingly at him and one even leaned out hi
s window to curse at him. Will ignored him and proceeded south on foot. When he got to where there was a recent accident blocking the viaduct he abruptly stopped. A black Suburban had crashed into two other cars and was completely choking the street to an aggravating halt. Several people were standing next to the wrecked vehicles arguing loudly about who was at fault and how they could both blame the absent SUV driver. With a note of anxiety, Will recognized the Suburban and knew that the wreck had been on purpose. Anthony had wanted traffic prevented from going on the viaduct.

  Scrutinizing the almost empty bridge, Will could see a stopped DART train and the distant movement of people. He would have gone out a few steps further, but the size of one of the figures made him stop hurriedly.

  Behind him the huge round lighted shape of Reunion Tower sparkled dazzlingly in a night sky, and the noise of a busy holiday evening filled the air. People were impatient to get home and rest their tired dogs. Everyone and everything was oblivious to what was occurring.

  Will craned his neck to better see further out on the viaduct and ignored peripheral incidents happening around him. The sound of a police siren could be heard as well as it came closer and closer in its urgent effort to reach the scene. Time was running out for Anthony, if he hadn’t already reacquired the Tears of the Spirit.

  Will couldn’t allow Anthony to see him or know of his presence. Not yet. Not before he knew everything that he possibly could about what Anthony was doing. He corrected himself, No, not what he’s doing but how he plans to achieve his means to an end. How I can counter those plans.

  Raising the night vision goggles to his eyes, Will ascertained exactly what was ensuing. The thief was trapped on the bridge. She came out of the broken window of the DART train as if her hair were on fire. A moment later she lost her fear and raced like a graceful deer for freedom. Not long after that, she realized her dire predicament and halted as hastily as if her feet had suddenly been encased in cement. The seatco and another woman were approaching from the north. The shadow people from the train were fast approaching her rear.

  Will couldn’t help the gasp of apprehension as the young woman stood as still as the night and judged her options. He could almost see the wheels spinning behind her eyes, although he was far from close enough to see trepidation overwhelming her fair features. Then she spun and went for the side of the bridge. Without even a brief hesitation of what she was taking on, or whether she was in the correct position, the thief simply dove over the side of the bridge.

  Will really couldn’t help himself. He laughed. She didn’t know if she would make it or not. She didn’t know what she was getting herself into, but impetuous woman, she had done it anyway and damn the consequences. Foolhardy woman. Stupid woman. A woman left without choices made another choice for herself. Brave woman.

  He rapidly approached the side of the viaduct that the thief had dove off and searched for her with his night vision goggles. After a moment, he put them down. There didn’t seem to be any sign of her and Will needed to be away from this spot before the seatco came back. An evil spirit such as the seatco didn’t have the same restrictions as the shadow people. The seatco was primarily from this world and not subject to the same magicks. His meager protection had concealed him once this evening, and Will doubted it would continue to work effectively. The beast would see him as surely if he were standing in a spotlight on a stage. In addition, it would do anything to protect its master, but like all beings live and dead, it had its own limitations.

  Now was not the time to take advantage of those limitations. Will began to turn away to return to his car and find out what the thief had been concealing, but some little tingling sense of the extraordinary made him pause. He brought the night vision goggles up again and pointed them toward the five figures congregated on one side of the bridge.

  The sound of police sirens was louder now. The official vehicles were struggling to get through the traffic jam caused by the Suburban and the two wrecked cars. There weren’t any exits off the viaduct and not a lot of room to get around stop-and-go traffic. They were going to have to come in by foot. By now, a hundred cellular phones from the occupants of the DART train had inundated the 911 system. They would be telling strange stories about what had happened on the train and how it had mysteriously stopped, allowing dark figures with red eyes to board as they searched unerringly for that which would set them free forever. The police wouldn’t understand the confused stories, but they would know something dreadful was wrong and that they needed to be on that DART train.

  But that wasn’t what halted Will’s immediate departure from the scene for the moment. He looked outward on the viaduct at the woman in the group. She turned away from them and looked in his direction, and Will almost dropped the night vision goggles. Merri. There could be no mistake. Her lovely face was accentuated by the black locks twisting leisurely about her features. Her empty eyes seemingly looked directly at him. His own previous thoughts about the house on Durfrene Row came back to him. The dead walk here.

  Will shut his eyes. That wasn’t Merri anymore. Whatever it was, was something that Anthony had brought forth to help perpetuate his warped plans for the world. He kept his eyes closed and spun around. When he faced north again, he opened them and deliberately did not look back.

  *

  Heights hadn’t been Penelope’s forte. She didn’t like going up in tall towers, didn’t favor the roller coaster rides at Six Flags Over Texas, and she was pretty sure that she wasn’t going to go skydiving any time soon. So why had she dove off the Houston Street Viaduct?

  Because she knew that those very odd people or things or whatever they were, were going to kill her if she had stayed on the bridge. Thus, it was her only shot at remaining alive. But the problem was that when she took her precarious dive she wasn’t sure if she was directly over the Trinity River or not. The extended bridge had been constructed to go over the levee and the wide greenway that had been built to contain future flooding in the heavily populated metroplex. Once the Trinity curved out of the downtown area it gradually entered a wildlife preserve and a series of swamplands that would endanger few people if flooded. But in this immediate area the viaduct, like many of the bridges that only crossed the Trinity, covered the wide expanse of the greenway with only a dirty brown, curling ribbon of water as a meager portion underneath it.

  All of those inane thoughts spilled through Penelope’s head as she fell. She didn’t like the sickening feeling of dropping into nothingness. And she didn’t like the idea that she might be taking a hard fall into sun-hardened dirt and mottled grass any better. Her arms flailed as she fell, and it was only in the instant before she hit the surface of the water, that she saw a group of kayakers who had paused on the bank to watch the fireworks. They were packing up and preparing to continue their downstream route. One of them had a flashlight and was pointing out where the case of beer was located on the bank.

  Then Penelope hit the water with a resounding thud and felt the impact throughout her body as if she had done the most massive belly flop in history. She went under and couldn’t see anything in the grimy murk of the Trinity River. Her whirling arms and legs worked the waters up even more, and a current rotated her around so that she was upside down. A swallow’s worth of dirty water forced itself down her throat, and she fought to put herself upright again.

  Something touched her ankle, and a fearsome thought entered Penelope’s brain. What if one of those red-eyed things had jumped in after her? What if it were the monster in the mask? Or even worse what if it were the beautiful woman with the chilling smile? If they were willing to attack a Dallas Police Officer, why not take a dive into a river after a thief?

  Fingers cruelly grasped her ankle, and Penelope kicked. Someone knocked her other foot away and jerked upward. Her head bobbed awkwardly up, and she gasped for air. Then she saw that one of the kayakers was holding onto her ankle with a firm grip and cursing her under his breath. “Goddammit, do you want to drown, you crazy twit?�


  Several more had piled into their water crafts and were on their way to help. Penelope looked straight upward and saw nothing but the edge of the viaduct and a wreath of stars arraying a calm night sky. Nothing evil was staring down at her. Penelope choked out a mouthful of muddy water. “I don’t want to drown,” she gasped.

  The man reached out with his hand and caught her hand, towing her in easily. He let her body drape over the side of the kayak. “Now you can rest, and I’ll get you to shore,” he said gruffly. “You trying to commit suicide or just felt like a swim?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she sputtered, coughing out more gritty water.

  A flashlight illuminated the kayaker’s features for a moment, and Penelope saw a man in his middle forties with prematurely white hair. He appeared strong and fit and able to handle her waterborne weight. “I hear a whole lot of stuff,” he said. “Well, were you?”

  Penelope knew what he was asking. “I wasn’t trying to kill myself.” She couldn’t help her eyes from flittering upwards. They’d be coming for her, one way or another. A little dip in a dirty river wasn’t going to stop that; she had only bought herself a little time. “On the contrary.”

  “You hurt?” the man asked sincerely. “Lungs hurt when you take a breath?”

  Penelope shook her head. Then the kayaker said, “Your head hurt? You hit anything in the water?” When she shook her head again he added, “Damned if I know how you missed hitting something, but you look like you might walk away today.”

 

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