Faithful Shadow

by Howard, Kevin J.

  These memories resurfaced every time she got close to Joe, smelling the same type of fumes rolling out of his mouth, the unmistakable sign of an alcoholic. Joe was a man she’d grown to respect, someone she modeled herself after. The way he stood tall and strong kept everyone calm in a dangerous situation. Modeling him had put the dam between her anger and her professionalism. But that dam was beginning to crack. She’d allowed herself to look up to so few men in her life and to have Joe turn into her father was a frightening thought. But at least she could understand where the depression came from. The loss of his son had been so traumatic and unexpected. Worse, it had been preventable. That was what caused him to drink, to drown out that one simple fact. Her father had been a drunk because that’s just who he was. And it had taken her over thirty years to realize it was from no act of hers. But the anger was still there, passed along through her bloodline. But she’d redirected her life, strayed from her drunken father and became a respectable person. And she’d be damned if she let the one person that had shown her she was worth something face this creature alone. Whatever it happened to be.

  This park was her home. The only thing she had. The trees were her family; same with the geysers and the rivers. She knew she sounded like a great big hippie, but it was true. If this thing was ripping people to shreds in her backyard then she needed to do something. She was surprised they hadn’t brought her in on this. Stupid-ass men thinking they were all big and strong. Andy was a pussy when it came to anything threatening and Joe was a terrible shot. Rita could shoot the stinger off a bee from fifty yards back.

  She smiled, coming around the back of the Inn, looking from the bottom floor to the top, moving window to window; nothing too exciting, but still very important. If the windows were closed then they had a better chance at securing this puppy. Whatever it was—as long as it wasn’t some kind of giant spider. That’s where she drew the line. As a ranger, she’d become very passionate about helping all of God’s creatures, but no way in hell did she help a fucking spider. Those hairy, eight-legged bastards could rot for all she cared.

  Something moved past the window to her right, the small rectangular window that led to the stairwell. Rita leaned to her left and ran her eyes over the rest of the Inn. Satisfied that the remaining windows to the rooms were secured, Rita pulled her pistol from its holster and approached the door, her heart racing with adrenalin and anticipation. She gripped the knob and opened it slowly, sliding her thin frame through the door to shut it quickly behind her. Behind the stairs was a dim light, a faint shadow darting about on the wall. Rita kept her pistol to her hip as she inched past the stairs to the door around the corner. It stood ajar.

  “Aha!” Rita threw open the door and aimed the gun, her finger tense on the trigger.

  “Jesus! You almost made me shit my britches.” Bob held out his hands, breathing hard to calm himself. “Lower that thing, would you?”

  “Sorry. Thought you were whatever it is.” Rita gave a nervous laugh and holstered her weapon. “What are you doing sneaking around back here?” Rita looked past the fireman to the closet. It was the Inn’s utility boxes for all its power.

  “Hardly sneaking.” Bob leaned back and put his hand on a red valve. “Last year they installed the roof’s emergency sprinkler system. This red valve controls the water flow. I’m just turning it off.”

  “I guess I won’t be taking a shower then?” Rita gave him a wink and came out from behind the stairs, headed through the short hallway where Cameron and Natasha had lost their lives, and popped out into the lobby. “Wow, you boys brought everything but the kitchen sink.”

  “It’s coming.” Fred smiled, glad to have an attractive face in the crowd.

  Laid out neatly to the right of the fireplace were eight shotguns, four dart guns, three spare propane tanks for the generator outside the main entrance, and a mound of flashlights; twelve by Rita’s count. Three floodlights had been set up to shine down both hallways and up above them. She took a seat opposite the fireplace, leaning forward with her hands extended toward the flames. It was seldom that you saw a fire actually burning in this insanely tall fireplace. The chimney was like no other she’d ever seen before, rising above her high into the shadows of the ceiling.

  “The windows?” Joe asked as he hurried in from outside, adding three road flares to the supplies.

  “All of them sealed.”

  “Okay then. I’m going to chain up the doors if someone will meet me by the exit in the stairwell. When I’m done with that, I guess we just sit tight and wait for it to get dark.”

  38

  This was probably the most uncomfortable Kelly had ever been in her entire life. Lying flat on her stomach, looking down four flights to the small people below. Her chest hurt, her legs were sore, and her back ached. This was not what she had in mind when she’d come out to the park. But there was no going back now. They’d already been up there for hours, lying perfectly still as the park was emptied.

  It had been nerve wracking to say the least. She’d left her cabin just after one, not bothering to pack a single thing since she knew there was no real fire danger. Reluctantly, she owed Stew a big apology for not believing him; everything he’d told them was going to happen had happened. They’d been woken up at eight in the morning and told to pack only what they need. Kelly had shut the door after the old ranger left and took a seat on the bed, the room swirling. If Stew had been correct about the false park evacuation, then maybe there really was a monster loose in the Inn. Her body broke out in goose bumps as she thought of all the night shifts she’d worked alone in the ice cream parlor, standing there vulnerable and unaware that something could have jumped out and taken her away at any moment just as it had done to her friends. She’d nearly fallen out of bed when Richard had knocked on her door a moment later.

  They’d both seized the moment, locking the door to make love. She had wanted to stay in his warm embrace, their bare bodies entwined, but it was a quickie. In the back of their minds they’d both known it might be their last roll in the hay, but neither would admit to it. Kelly and Richard had quickly dressed, taking little peeks to admire the other’s form, keeping the mood light. At ten fifteen they’d left the cabin, straying from the line of grumbling employees to walk up the slightly raised incline towards the stairwell door. They’d walked down the main hall and took a seat across from the fireplace, waiting patiently for Sonia and Stew to finally come walking in through the main entrance, their hair messy and his shirt unevenly tucked into his jeans.

  “What?” Stew asked, tucking the rest of his shirt into his pants. “Let’s move before she gets back to her post.”

  They’d all reassured themselves that they were well out of danger, perched on high like an eagle, overlooking the damage and not being a part of it. Earlier, Stew had led the way up the first flight of stairs, walking casually but with a good pace. They then climbed the second floor and froze, taking a seat on a nearby couch as someone below them began yelling. They’d all leaned forward and peeked over the wooden railing at the old man at the counter, barely tall enough to look over it.

  “Hey! Hello,” he snapped, slapping the counter top.

  “Yes sir, may I help you?” Gretchen hurried in from outside, straightening her skirt. She’d abandoned her post for yet another smoke break. She’d been taking one every fifteen minutes since she’d heard the news of the evacuation.

  “You can tell me why my wife and I have been asked to leave.”

  “The entire park is being evacuated due to the fire, sir.”

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass about the fire. It’s not on the brochure. No mention of it when I made the goddamn reservation seven months ago.”

  “I’m truly sorry.”

  “Hold up there,” the old man interrupted her, his voice rising in volume. “Don’t interrupt a man when he’s speaking to you. Especi
ally when this man is a guest here at this hotel. Now I don’t see why I should have to pack up and leave when the fire is miles away.”

  “Oh this is so awesome,” Stew whispered, rocking back and forth with pure delight. Even from up on the second floor he could see the anger spreading over Gretchen’s face, but then it was suppressed by her title. Stew couldn’t have asked for a better torture for her, but it was short-lived. Stew’s wide smile fell into a snarl as Joe came up the steps. “Come on, let’s go.”

  Stew had seen enough. Watching Joe being an asshole was something he’d seen before. Besides, they needed to get moving before they began searching the Inn. They moved quickly along the second floor, walking as far from the railing as possible to limit visibility. After they climbed up the third flight of stairs they began to relax, knowing it would be very difficult for anyone to look up and see them. Stew undid the latch on the chain and stood aside as Richard and the girls climbed up the fourth and final set of stairs.

  “My God, we’re high up.” Sonia leaned over the railing, feeling dizzy from the height.

  Kelly got on her knees and looked about the walkway, seeing the door to her left and the stairs to her right. At least there weren’t a lot of places for this thing to hide up here. With the ceiling roughly ten feet above them, and nowhere to come but up the stairs, Kelly actually felt safe. Even still, she kept her head pulled back far enough so she couldn’t see over the edge.

  Stew lifted the camera off its side and powered it up, lifting up the back end to get an angled shot of the lobby below. It had been a wise decision to set up the camera the night before. Stew zoomed in on Joe’s face and grinned, waiting until he could get some incriminating evidence on tape against that dick. His days were numbered.

  “Did anyone bring any food?” Sonia was lying on her back, her arm draped over her head. No one was better than Sonia when it came to dramatic posing.

  “Here.” Kelly pulled some granola bars from her pocket, passing them out. “At least one of us is prepared.”

  Kelly ate her granola bar and rested her head against the cool wood. The granola sounded so loud in her ears, crunching between her teeth. It felt as if everyone would come rushing in from outside to see what the noise was, but of course they couldn’t hear it. She swallowed the last bite and rolled onto her back, lying next to Sonia. She wondered how long they’d have to wait up here before this grand show of theirs was over. Maybe they’d known Stew was listening and made up the whole monster hunting thing to scare him. But she could sense it in the air. A storm was coming. Kelly shivered despite the warmth from the Inn’s interior. It occurred to her that they were now stuck up here on this small, narrow walkway high above the ground—without a bathroom. If they had to wander down to the lobby for any reason they risked being shot, or eaten.

  You are being so careless right now.

  Kelly closed her eyes tight and pushed the voice into the back of her mind, not wanting to listen. Even thought she knew it was the truth. They didn’t need her here. She wasn’t serving any purpose other than company for some casual conversation. Right now she could be on a bus heading toward a prepaid night in a hotel room, a possible romantic evening for her and Richard. But that had been the real reason. She’d stayed because he’d stayed. They hadn’t said those three magic words to each other yet, but she knew they were close. It wasn’t just great sex. There was a connection that followed them well beyond the bedroom, a rush of energy when they held hands or looked at each other across the room. She was risking her life because she wouldn’t let him risk his alone—plain and simple.

  “Here we go.” Stew zoomed in but didn’t start recording. The VHS was only an eight hour tape and he didn’t bring a backup. He was saving his precious space for when things got heated. Of course he could only record when the thing was in the lobby, so he hoped it would eat its victims by the fireplace.

  They watched Joe’s crew over and over again, laying an arsenal on the lobby’s center rug. Stew felt validated, knowing a forest fire didn’t call for rifles and floodlights. Now all they had to do was sit back, keep quiet, and wait for the massacre to begin.

  39

  The doors were chained from the outside, all but the emergency exit in the stairwell. They’d wrapped one end of a chain around the push bar and the other through the closest slat in the stairs, then padlocked it shut. They were locked up good and tight. Joe found that comforting and extremely disturbing all at the same time. No help was coming and there was no quick way out if the situation got out of hand. But this is what they’d agreed to do. It was important enough for Andy to grow a pair, important enough for Rita to turn back around and leave safety behind. So it better well be important enough to the man whose idea it was to get them all locked up in there. Whether or not that had been a good idea remained to be seen.

  Joe had devised two teams, the four firemen to check the upstairs hallways and the three rangers to check the downstairs. He’d gone behind the front desk and searched the drawers, finding nothing but register tape, customer comment cards, and Gretchen’s fashion magazines. On the back wall, he saw a wooden cabinet. He opened it up and saw a key for every room in the Inn, but that’s not what he wanted. He thought back to two nights ago when he’d asked Gretchen to retrieve the key. He remembered her taking one off the hook to his right. He followed his memory to two keys hanging from a nail, two master keys.

  “Here, you three check every room, one at a time. When you’ve completed the search, tear off a strip of this black tape and stick it on the door. Let’s avoid double dipping.”

  Joe and Dale turned on the three floodlights, brightening the lobby enough to make them avert their eyes. They were unaware that at that moment, Stew was four floors above them, cursing the day they were born for killing his shot with their skyward floodlight. Dale got down on his knees, grabbed a flashlight and a shotgun, and using the tape he’d gotten from Joe, secured the light to the barrel. He repeated this seven times before passing them out.

  “Be careful.” Joe cocked his shotgun and turned on the light.

  “You too.” Dale gave a single nod and led his men up the first flight of stairs, moving slowly and covering every inch with his light.

  Joe led his team into the restaurant, wishing he’d taken the upstairs and handed this one off to the firemen. The restaurant was cavernous and dark despite the overhead lighting; too many corners and tall ceilings, too many places for the creature to hide. Joe knelt down and lifted up the tablecloth from each table as he passed, but there was nothing there. He wondered exactly what he would do if there was something lurking beneath the cloth. In that split second before it leapt forth and reached for his throat, would he be able to squeeze off a shot? Or would he drop the shotgun and succumb to its attack? He could suffer a heart attack for all he knew. Knights have been known to run away screaming while a squire could fight to the death; no way of knowing how one might respond in the face of sheer terror. As for himself, he thought more along the lines of shitting his pants and then the heart attack. He could only hope to squeeze off at least one shot before the creature tore into him.

  Joe pushed through the swinging double doors into the kitchen, shaking his head at a creature’s dream hiding spot of cupboards, pantries, and stoves; a million places for this damn thing to be hiding. He looked through the small glass door windows and saw his teammates searching the buffet table. Joe looked at all the knives stuck to magnetic strips, pans hanging from racks over the stove, sharp cooking utensils in canisters along the counter. Kitchens were just made for death. Everything before him could be used as a weapon. Suddenly he felt very uncomfortable standing among so many potential weapons, hoping this creature wasn’t a thrower.

  There was a loud pop from the lobby, followed immediately by a loud hissing. Joe turned and ran, sprinting through the dining room on the heels of Andy and Rita. They skidded to a st
op before the fireplace, looking down at the sparks flying from the severed floodlight cords running along the floor from the outside generator. The lights dimmed, faded and were finally dead. Joe knelt down and looked at the wire cut clean through as if with a razorblade.

  “It cut the lights,” Joe said to himself, jumping at the sound of another loud pop, this time from down the hall. “It cut the power.” Joe looked up as all the overhead lights whined down and fell silent. He saw the firemen’s flashlights bobbing up and down on the second floor as they ran from the hall.

  “What happened? Is everyone all right?” Dale yelled from the second floor railing.

  “The goddamn thing cut the power.” Joe was in disbelief.

  “How can it know to do that? It’s only an animal!” Andy was close to hysterics, rocking back and forth. It became too dark, pulling toward them as if the room were shrinking.

  “Where are the main breakers?” Joe asked, meeting Dale at the base of the stairs.

  “I know, follow me,” Bob volunteered, squeezing between them to lead the way down the hall and toward the stairs. He waved his hand as the back area behind the stairs filled with smoke. Bob ducked down beneath the stairwell and looked into the little room, frantically waving his hand to get a clear look at the damage. “Holy shit.”

  “What?” Joe and Dale said in unison as they came around the stairs.

  “The thing’s been shredded. All the connections pulled and severed.” Bob scratched his head. “This is way beyond repair, gentlemen. Whatever this thing is, it’s one smart son of a bitch.” Bob pushed through them and headed back around the stairs, eager to move clear of the smoke.