Faithful Shadow

by Howard, Kevin J.

  “Look, I’m really busy.”

  “I’m pregnant!” Sonia spat, as if she were on a game show and the buzzer were about to sound.

  “Oh, um, I’m so sorry to hear that.” Gretchen’s eyes went wide, taken back by such a statement. “Congratulations?”

  “I just thought that maybe I could talk to you, you know…” Sonia motioned with her head toward the main entrance. “Get some advice from someone that seems to have it all together.” Sonia smiled, feeling more confident as the tension eased in Gretchen’s eyes. Sonia had thrown a little flattery her way and she was eating it up.

  “Oh, of course.” Gretchen closed her magazine. “I think we can step away for a quick moment, seeing as how no one is out and about. You don’t mind if I smoke, do you?” Gretchen eyed the little pooch of Sonia’s stomach.

  “No, I don’t mind.” Sonia crossed her arms about her stomach, feeling her momentary calm replaced with self-conscious depression. It was one thing to say she was pregnant, but it was a whole other ballpark to look like it. Sonia put her head down and followed Gretchen out of the Inn, waving her hand behind her back for phase two to begin.

  Stew and Richard hurried down the hall, running loudly across the mammoth open space of the central lobby. Best to cover as much ground as possible now while no one could hear them. They could be sneaky once they were up and on their way. Stew went up the stairs first, moving from flatfoot to tiptoes. Richard looked back at the lobby and saw Kelly keeping watch at the end of the hall. They’d made it up to the third flight of stairs before Kelly began waving her arms about her head as if fanning herself. Stew and Richard dropped to their knees, ducking down behind the thick wood railing. Kelly dropped her arms and made as if she were waving at them, turning nervously to hurry back to the parlor.

  “Well, I hope everything works out.” Gretchen got behind the counter and turned her attention back to the magazine, ignoring Sonia and her fictitious problem even as she continued to stand there.

  “Okay, well thank you,” Sonia uttered, unable to keep her eyes from rolling up into the rafters, searching for them. She caught herself as Gretchen looked up, giving her a brief smile before hurrying back to the ice cream shop.

  “She’s not a bad little actress,” Richard whispered.

  “She has many hidden talents.” Stew gave a sly smile, but it quickly fell into a frown. He’d been impressed with her story, but was there a shred of truth to it? Had she resorted to such an excuse to get Gretchen’s attention because she knew it would work, or was it because she’d been dwelling on it? All the same, he now felt sick to his stomach.

  Stew gripped the railing and slowly stood, cringing as his knees cracked. Every little movement felt as if it came with a spotlight and an alarm but Gretchen never looked up from her magazine. About to climb the stairs up to the fourth floor, nothing more than a walkway that circled the lobby far below, Stew laid down the camera and pushed down on the metal latch and undid the chain that kept wandering tourists from entering this high and dangerous pathway, now mostly used for maintenance and access to the roof. They held their breath as the chain dropped to the bottom stair. The echo from so high up drifted down to Gretchen who paid it no attention, passing it off as just another annoying sound from the old building.

  “Be more careful.” Richard punched Stew in the arm.

  “Quiet, dick.” Stew rubbed his arm, the flesh tender from a hard knuckle poke. He gripped the camera by the handle and carried it up the last stairs to the long, narrow walkway that hung over the center of the Inn. Stew wasn’t afraid of heights, but this rickety old walkway did make him nervous; nothing but a waist-high railing made of very old lumber. “This looks like a good spot,” Stew whispered as he gently set the camera down, connecting the extension cord to the camera.

  Richard took the opposite end of the cord and walked the rest of the way down the walkway. Just as Stew had said, there was an electrical outlet at the base of the final staircase. Richard plugged it in and looked over his shoulder at Stew. A moment later he received the thumbs up signaling that this was indeed going to work. Richard looked up at the stairs to the roof, wondering who in their right mind would ever want to venture out on the roof. It was slanted at such an angle it could almost be called a sheer drop, but it was still slightly comforting. If something should happen to go wrong way up here above the show, at least they had a potential way out. Of course they’d most likely plummet to their deaths down a moss covered slide, but a way out is a way out; better than being lunch for some monster.

  Richard knelt beside Stew who was looking through the eyepiece of the camera, lifting it up to get a good angle of the lobby.

  “This thing has a great zoom. I can almost see down Gretchen’s top.” Stew looked up with a smile. “Almost.”

  “How long do we have to wait up here?”

  “As soon as Gretchen takes a bathroom break or a smoke break, we’re gone.”

  “Dude, that could be hours.”

  Stew shrugged, putting his eye back to the eyepiece. Richard rolled his eyes and laid back on the walkway, looking up at the ceiling about ten feet above them. Even way up here they still weren’t close to the ceiling. Richard let out a long breath and closed his eyes. It was going to be a very long night.

  36

  Squinting from the morning sun, Joe was as ready as he could ever hope to be. He’d loaded up the three shotguns from his house with all available ammo. He then went to the ranger station and got an additional shotgun and three tranquilizer pistols. Each tranquiller could take down a full grown bear with a single dart, but would that be enough for this beast? It had better be, otherwise they might as well chase after it with squirt guns and water balloons. If the darts weren’t going to suffice, they always had the shotguns and pistols. Also, not that he was going to make this public knowledge to the other men, but he’d stopped off at the small chapel outside of West Thumb and filled a small jam jar with holy water. Better to be safe than sorry. He still wished he’d been able to make silver bullets, but he wasn’t crafty like that. Premade and ready to roll was his motto. Maybe one of Dale’s men, if he’d gotten any to come along, would be packing silver bullets, garlic, and a crucifix.

  Joe had left the ranger station with every available flashlight and propane tank, along with the generator they kept out back for winter power outages. He stood in the doorway and went through a mental list, running his eyes over everything to see if there was anything he’d forgotten. And there was. He went out to the shed behind the station and opened the door, grabbing as many chains as possible. He counted the number of doors in his head, shaking it with frustration when he realized he had no damn idea. But five padlocks should be more than enough to do the trick. Joe loaded up his truck to the gills and left the station, breathing heavier with each mile that passed. As he pulled off the main road, a nasty headache began to surface. Perhaps his body was trying to throw him one last way out, but more than likely it was from his sobriety. His hands trembled, wanting to throttle his own neck while they pulled the flask from his pocket and forced the vodka down his throat, but not now. He couldn’t give in when so many were now depending on his leadership.

  “Holy shit,” Joe proclaimed as he pulled up to the Inn, maneuvering his truck through the handful of school buses and emergency vehicles scattered about the parking lot. Joe pulled up beside Andy’s truck and hopped out, standing on his right tire to get an overview of the situation.

  “If you could all please step forward and sign the clipboard provided outside each bus, it would be greatly appreciated.” Andy stood tall on the top stair outside the main entrance; his voice amplified through a megaphone. “Make sure you sign in and keep track of all your belongings. Keep calm and orderly. Thank you.”

  Joe had to linger a moment, smiling despite himself. If this little circus of lies had done nothing else, at least
he’d finally seen Andy grow a pair of balls. It made him feel happy for him, standing up there while taking charge, unafraid of his normally nasal tone being carried out to the employees as they shuffled toward the bus. It was working. Unbelievably, this little plan of his was coming to fruition. Andy let out a sigh of relief as he looked down and saw Joe. He hurried down the steps, leaving the calm and cool Andy behind.

  “It’s almost eleven!” Andy skidded to a stop, dropping the megaphone with a loud whine of static. “What happened?”

  “I just had a lot of supplies to get.” Joe looked behind him to the fire truck. Dale was holding a hose, spraying the roof of the Inn in slow sweeping motions. “The man knows how to play the part, doesn’t he?” Joe smiled. “What about the guests and employees?”

  “We’ve already had one bus ship out to Gardiner.”

  “Gardiner? What about Mammoth or Canyon?”

  Andy scratched his head and gave a nervous smile. “Well…I might have ranted and raved a bit too much. They’re actually evacuating the entire park.”

  “Oh shit, no way.” Joe’s eyes went wide as he ran both hands through his hair. They’d really done it this time. Hard to cover up an entire park being evacuated, but it was too late to worry about the little things. This would actually work out for them. No one would be wandering by, looking for a place to sleep for the night. They’d be completely alone and isolated; completely on their own. “Well good job, regardless. Now let’s get these folks on their way safely.”

  Joe put on his hat and went to work, wearing a sober ranger’s face for perhaps the first time in months. He stood beside the nearest bus and watched the angry faces of the employees pass by, one by one, holding what few bags and possessions they could pack in the past few hours. They were rattled, shocked, and a few looked as if they’d cried a bit. It was a scary thing to be put through, told to pack up what you can and get the hell out. But it was better than becoming the lunch for some bloodthirsty shadow. Joe jumped as the sprinklers on the roof kicked on, hissing loudly before finally shooting a steady stream of water over the old wooden shingles. He thought it was an awesome touch; really sold the illusion of impending doom.

  They all stood on the steps to the Inn and gave a long breath of relief as the last bus exited the parking lot. Surprisingly it had only taken two hours to get the staff up and moving. The guests took off in their own cars, grumbling under their breath at what an inconvenience this was. Joe went inside the Inn to handle an irate customer who was giving Gretchen a hard time. He actually thought she could use a little sass from a customer, maybe knock her down from her high horse, but he intervened. He had to keep the ball rolling. The old man had driven up from New Orleans and was pissed to say the least, swearing loudly about how they’d ruined his vacation. Joe watched him leave with a smile, giggling to himself at the shorts and tall socks, the fact that old men never have an ass. Did that mean he’d lose his in a year or two? If so, where the hell did all these old men’s butts go? Joe just shook his head and went out to the stairs.

  “I’ve got to hand it to you.” Joe turned to Dale, extending his hand for a shake. “You really got things moving.”

  “I just convinced them it was worth taking the precautions. Once I mentioned that it’d be easier to protect the Inn without the tourists in the way to get hurt, they immediately saw things our way; not wanting to hurt the tourist trade and all. Besides, how many guests did they kick out anyway? Four, five? Not much of a loss in revenue.”

  “They’re probably grateful. Now they don’t have to spend all that money to pay their employees to just stand around all day.”

  Dale turned toward the fire truck and waved his men over. “Joe, I’d like you to meet Fred Earnhart, Arnold Gaines, and Bob Nangle. They were more than willing to help us out today.”

  Joe shook their hands one by one, so very grateful to have their help. “This is Andy Lutz, a ranger with the park.” Joe crossed his arms and looked them over. “I hope the six of us will be enough.”

  “I saw how sick that bastard made Cameron.” Bob’s right eyelid twitched with rage. “If that asshole is in there then we’ll be enough. It’s gonna die slowly for what it did to Cameron and Paul.”

  The men nodded in unison; all of them sharing the same deep hatred. Joe was just thankful to have more than Andy on his side, although he had to give him credit for bravery. Despite being afraid, he had shown up yesterday and watched their backs while they’d been down in the hole and helped get the evacuation going. But he wasn’t strong and full of hate like the three men Dale had brought with him. Fred was a little on the older side, maybe in his early fifties. Dark hair wrapped around the sides of his head while leaving the top completely bare. Both Bob and Arnold were very welcome here; strong, late thirties to early forties. Bob looked ready to rip the creature’s head off with his bare hands, standing before Joe while tightening his fists. Arnold struck Joe as the quiet type. He looked up at the Inn, studying the architecture and then looked off to the woods behind them. He was the kind of man who went where he was told, took orders and got the job done. From the looks of his biceps, he took working out to the next level; maybe a spiritual thing, just him and the weights, no sound but the beat of his heart and the counting of reps.

  “Well, I want to thank you all for helping me.” Joe clapped his hands together, looking down from the top step at the men standing before him. Five men that had decided to put their lives on the line and here he was giving a little spiel like some camp counselor. He lowered his shoulders and let the gravity of what they were facing sink in. “Look, I don’t know what we’re up against here. I’m not even sure if we have the tools to kill it, or if it’s still inside. But I am so very honored you’re all here.” Joe smiled his first real genuine smile in weeks. “I think we should start by unloading all the equipment and setting up while we still have the sun on our side. Once we’ve got everything in place, let’s meet up at the fireplace.” Joe looked up at the road as he saw the midday sun glinting off the hood of an approaching vehicle. “Okay, let’s get moving.”

  Joe took the steps slowly, wondering why the hell Rita was turning into the parking lot when she was supposed to be on her way to Gardiner. Joe stood on the sidewalk, distancing himself from the rest of the group so she wouldn’t overhear anything pertinent.

  Rita skidded to a stop and killed the engine, slamming the car door behind her. She was only five-foot-five, but she stood with a presence about her—one that said she wouldn’t hesitate to drop your ass like a ton of bricks if she were so inclined. She stood before Joe, her arms folded, nodding her head to words she hadn’t yet said.

  “I ran into Gerol.” Rita smiled, containing the speech she’d been practicing the seventeen miles from Mammoth. “He was rather pissed about the evacuation, especially when you told him yesterday that you weren’t there to kick him out of his house. But he did wish you luck with your monster hunt.” Rita looked to her left at the line of men walking into the Inn, their arms loaded with shotguns and flashlights. “Just your basic evacuation supplies?”

  “Look, I didn’t want to have to bring you in on this.”

  “Bullshit!” Rita stuck a finger in his face and raised her voice. “You should have filled me in from the start. Monster or not, it is my job to protect this park and maintain animal conservation. How dare you and Andy push me aside like your little sister. Male chauvinist pigs!”

  “Please, I just didn’t want you to get hurt. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re damn right you’re sorry.” Rita withdrew her hand and went back to her truck, leaning in the door to grab her shotgun off the passenger seat. “If you think I’m going to run and hide while you boys play monster hunters, then you’re out of your fucking mind.” Rita rested the barrel of the shotgun against her shoulder. “So, what do you need me to do? Or should I inform the authorities exactly why you and thes
e firemen have decided to evacuate this National Park?”

  “If you would do a walk around the Inn and check for any open windows that would be great,” Joe said, suppressing a smile.

  “Glad to.” Rita headed off toward the back of the Inn, handing her shotgun to Andy as she passed him.

  Joe watched her go and smiled, impressed with her display of authority. To say he wasn’t intimidated would have been a complete lie. He’d been sure she was going to kick him in the balls or rip his ears off. Thankfully she hadn’t and he was happy to have her help, but now he had one more person to worry about. But Rita made seven, lucky seven.

  “I think I’m in love,” Bob told Joe as he passed him on the stairs with three floodlights laid across his arms, looking to his right to see Rita turn out of view.

  37

  Rita quickly calmed herself, shivering from the anger she’d let loose. The only monster she’d ever seen was the rage that lived within her bloodline, one that roamed unchecked and attacked more frequently than she cared to admit; a parting gift from what could very loosely be referred to as a father. An alcoholic extension to the living room recliner was a better name for him. There was hardly a single memory from her childhood where he wasn’t glued to his chair watching baseball or football, drinking two to three packs of beer a game. They’d gone through three TVs due to the barrage of hurled bottles and cans over the years. A few had missed and hit her on occasion. One such misguided bottle had struck her in the back of the head; one of the many physical scars she still carried today, and like those scars she was pleased they were hidden. But watching him drink, a man she was supposed to love unconditionally, filled her with such sorrow. With her mother working two jobs, this was all she had to go home to; a man who would only acknowledge his family during commercials. Even then it was a snide comment or a hateful rant about a player.