Where did that leave him?
“Tick tock,” it said, “you have sixty seconds.”
To emphasize its point, Walther Black stood up and hovered over Jöanth, tapping the face of the watch. “I walk out of here in sixty seconds, and if you don't make a choice, I will.”
Do I follow him? Jöanth wondered. He was convinced there were no bombs. The thing wouldn't risk killing itself and its co-conspirator. It also would not tell him of a grand plan to kill thousands of innocent people. It would just do it, not hint at it. No. Something bigger was at play here. And that sent a quick burst of fear through his heart. If killing thousands of innocent lives didn't appeal to the Thing, then what did it have planned? It would be something grander, more frightening, more devastating. Something that would kill many more than just thousands. The thought sent a chill down his spine, a feeling he was mostly unfamiliar with.
If I follow him, I could stop him from killing at least one person. It would also stop him from killing anyone else, ever again.
But what if I lose him? Jöanth's internal struggle raged forth unabated.
“Fifteen seconds,” the soft-spoken, well-mannered voice cut through his thoughts.
And how exactly do I follow him? Walther Black would have a car. It might be parked on the other side of the parking lot and the girls would not be able to bring their car around in time. And would cloaking help? Álvur can see other álvur, even when cloaked. Reason suggested that a svartálvur would also have this ability.
A whispered countdown started.
“Five, four, three, two, one.”
“Eleanor,” Jöanth said, head bent slightly downwards in defeat. But his eyes were on the thing, burning with a hatred he had never felt before.
The Thing gave him another phone. “It’s not password protected. Open the map app. Eleanor's location is already in.”
“Wait,” Jöanth didn't know what to say. What do you say after you’ve condemned a man to death?
“If you don't know how it works,” the not-man said, looking at the girls who were staring at them intently from two tables away. “Ask them. They'll get you there.”
“This isn't over,” Jöanth said, for lack of something more substantive.
He didn't know how to articulate what he was feeling. He had just condemned a man to die.
“I hope not,” it returned the statement. “I'll be in touch!” It called over its shoulder as it walked away.
Letting it leave was one of the hardest things Jöanth had ever done. Every fiber in his being wanted to pursue it and hack it into tiny pieces. He would then fill his duffel bag with its remains, go back to Edínu and throw it back into the Void. Jöanth wanted others to see what happened to those who crossed the Light and preyed on the innocent. And yet, he couldn't. The Thing had him spun, twisted, and caught within its web. There was no escape from it today. Today, the spider would live to feed another day.
“You're letting him go?” Charlene asked at his shoulder.
Jöanth nodded. “It gave me no choice.”
“And Eleanor?” Rosewater asked, blue eyes as big as saucers.
He handed her the phone. “Let's go get her.”
CHAPTER 45
Eleanor was scared.
This was different from the fear she felt when she was hunted by David ICK, the infamous serial child killer. It was different than the fear she felt when seeing the Thing the first time on the streets of New York. It was different than the fear she felt when she was trapped in the train with Charlene and the Thing.
This was fear of the unknown.
Something was in here with her and she couldn't see it. Whether it was simply adept at hiding, or camouflaged itself to the point of invisibility, she couldn't tell. Now she knew what Charlene must have felt like in the train.
You knew something was there, but you couldn't see it.
Being blind must be the worst affliction of all, she kept thinking. And yet, this was different to what Charlene must have experienced on the train. Charl told them in great detail of what she experienced on the train, being boxed in that small space with an overwhelming feeling of wrongness. Charl's instincts told her that something bad was there, but her eyes could not see it. And then she saw the woman's hair being slashed and thrown into the air. Apart from seeing that, her senses had been at war with each other. She didn't hear or smell anything, and didn't see anything until the hair incident. And yet, despite not physically being able to identify the threat, her instincts had been screaming at her to flee. There had been no explanation for it. Logic told her to ignore it, impulse told her to flee immediately and not look back.
Eleanor had empathized with her young friend, but until now, she hadn't really understood those feelings. Sitting here in the dark, helplessly tied to a chair in an abandoned mini-warehouse, Eleanor was also overcome by a feeling of wrongness.
There was something in here with her that didn't belong.
It felt as if whatever it was, was an abomination to nature and the laws of physics and reality. It was something that didn't belong in this world. Everything about it felt wrong. As if it shouldn't be allowed to occupy space in this world. It was anathema to everything. Whatever it was, it made Eleanor even more uncomfortable and afraid than when she had seen the svartálvur on the streets of Brooklyn the first time.
And it was an it, of that there was no doubt in Eleanor's mind. This was a thing. Clearly different to the svartálvur, but also a thing. A thing that didn't belong here. This wasn't a person slinking in the shadows just out of sight. It also wasn't an animal. Animals didn't move like this thing. Insects maybe, but not animals. The thought of this thing being an alien insect made Eleanor's anxiety worse. Her mind conjured up images of a flying, hairy, purple spider with acid-like green venom dripping from its fangs.
She thought of insects such as bees and dragonflies, (not spiders!), because this new thing seemed to have the ability to hover. It wasn't just her sixth-sense that told her this, but she could also hear it. Whenever it moved, it sounded as if the air was scraping softly against a rough fabric. She had to strain her ears to her it, but it was there. Thankfully, wherever this warehouse was, it wasn't near a busy road or big industry. This made it possible for her to track its movements. Sometimes it moved horizontally, sometimes vertically. And it was never on the ground. It also snorted from time to time. A sound unlike anything she had ever heard before. It wasn't quite pig-like, but close. Sometimes it was low to the ground, but never on the ground. She was grateful for this. Somehow primal instinct balked at the idea of something alien scuttling around on the floor near her tied feet and legs. This loathing fear didn't make logical sense, but after the week she had, Eleanor didn't question it. She just accepted it.
There were times, like now, when the creature was suspended between the high warehouse ceiling and her head. Not too long ago, it was way up in the rafters. She preferred it up there. The idea that the thing was closer to her head brought forth images of a spider-bat thing caught in her hair. This encouraged her to furiously test her bonds again, but the duct tape didn't even give an inch. She simply wasn't strong enough.
Eleanor wondered if Jöanth would have been able to break free. He would, she thought. I wonder how long before he finds me? Can he even track me?
Don't be silly, the prissy cynic chimed in. You're not a monster, are you? Jöanth tracks monsters, not useless damsels in distress.
Eleanor nodded her head in the dark. For once, she agreed with the cynic. She was going to have to help herself. Who knew what the svartálvur had planned for her and if Jöanth could even find her.
The darkness was also a factor. Walther Black didn't do her any favors when he switched off the lights. It was darker than a witch's cauldron. She looked up, hoping to catch a glimpse of the snuffling hover-pig-spider-bat, but also hoping to not see it. Would her heart stop if she saw the thing dropping down upon her? She concentrated on the skylights in the roof instead. They didn't afford much
light and there wasn't even a single star out to wish upon.
It must be overcast, she thought glumly. Looking down, she could barely make out her legs. You'd think that a light blue, washed-out denim would be easier to spot in the dark, but no. She couldn't see a thing.
Eleanor jumped and uttered a loud moan as the thing sniffed the back of her neck. Hairs all over her body erupted and revulsion spread through her like a cold, trickling slime.
The flying, not-a-pig-thing, pulled back, evident by the soft rustling sound it made. It moved in a straight line, horizontally away from her towards the far wall.
There goes my pig-spider theory, she thought. If the thing had been on a web, it wouldn't have been able to move horizontally like that.
Then again, she thought, if it was a pig-spider from another world, who’s to say whether the laws of physics applied to it here?
It could not be seen, but she could hear it. And it seemed to be confined to this space. Eleanor didn't think that it passed through walls at any stage. And it toppled the shelving rack behind her not too long ago. That meant it was a physical being, right? Or was it? How long ago did the creature push, or pull, the shelving rack over?
A few minutes ago? she wondered. Half an hour? Hours? Her mind didn't supply the answer. Somehow, her internal clock got all messed up in situations like these. It had been the same on the train. Somehow, she had not been aware of seconds ticking by. Her mind was focused on more important things than the passing of time.
Eleanor pushed thoughts of time from her mind and wondered whether she had been aware of the hovering creature from Dimension X before it tipped over the shelf. She couldn't recall having heard it before then.
This is important, she realized. This means the Dim-X, that was what I’m going to call it, she decided, was deliberately making these sounds. That meant it was very much like the Korgon svartálvur. It seems to enjoy taunting me. It wants to make me scared.
It placed something on her head and revulsion rippled through her.
The thing's touch also didn't feel right. Completely alien, she thought, understanding the term for the first time. She couldn't explain the sensation, but Eleanor felt like it was touching her with an appendage. The Dim-X's version of a hand, or claw. There was no discernible feel to it, meaning it didn't have digits. Eleanor couldn't feel any fingers, or hard nails. Just a slight pressure of something resting on the top of her head. She also couldn't tell if it was cold or warm. There was just that feeling of pressure, of something on her head, and that inescapable feeling of unease, revulsion, and wrongness.
Eleanor did her best to fight her physical nausea. She willed it down, knowing that if she threw up while gagged, she would drown in her own vomit. There are worse ways to go, she thought, but I still pass. Dead by vomit on a death certificate was a bit humiliating.
She started getting despondent, and this seemed to excite the Dim-X's touch. It gave a slight wiggle, as if in ecstasy and this time bile started to rise up her throat. Eleanor did her best to control her spiraling emotions and bit down on her tongue, hoping the pain would counter the feelings of terror and hopelessness. It seemed to work as the creature retracted its probe. Eleanor didn't want to think along those lines and admonished herself for her poor word choice. Its hand retracted. She felt better already.
Eleanor was wondering how much more of the rustling, gliding and occasional grunting she would have to endure, when she heard a car pull up. The Dim-X immediately moved vertically away from her and up towards the roof.
Three doors slammed in quick succession, there was a brief muted discussion outside, and then the door burst open.
“Eleanor!” a familiar voice called.
It was Jöanth. He nearly kicked the steel door off its hinges as the door swung open. She could see his considerable bulky outline in the doorway, perfectly framed by the car headlights. He looked strange in the modern clothes he was wearing. The shirt was too small and the pants not long enough. Eleanor had never seen anything as glorious.
Jöanth looked around briefly, up at the ceiling towards the place where she thought the not-a-pig-spider Dim-X thing was hiding, and then he confidently, but quickly, strolled towards her, sword in hand.
He cut her from her bonds on the chair with ease. Even more impressive was the speed at which he was able to do it without drawing as much as a drop of blood.
“There is something in here with us,” he whispered in her ear.
“I know,” she answered.
He pulled back and looked at the nick between ear and jaw.
“He hurt you?”
“Just a nick,” Eleanor said with a smile, happy to be rescued.
“Run for the door,” he instructed. “The girls are outside. I'll be right behind you.”
Eleanor nodded, rubbed at her wrists and ankles and hoped that she wouldn't cramp up as she made her dash to freedom. She didn't feel any pins and needles in her extremities, so she should be able to get up and run without a bum leg or two. She rotated each ankle twice, gave Jöanth a wink in the semi-dark, which she was sure he saw, flexed, tensed her muscles and then bolted for the door.
Her feet slap slap slapped on the concrete, which made it near impossible for her to listen for signs of pursuit. She neared the lit rectangle of the door, already breathing in the fresh smell of freedom when one of her sneakers caught the edge of a slightly buckled section of the cement floor. She stumbled, started to cartwheel with her arms to try and retain her balance, and then fell.
Jöanth watched in wonder as Eleanor prepared to run. Most people would have run hell for leather, without even thinking about it, but Eleanor took her time, making sure that she would be able to run. It spoke of her logical and thought-out approach to everything she embarked upon.
Systems check done, she surprised him by winking at him. Did she know that he would be able to see it in the dark, or was it merely an instinctive action? he wondered. Before he could think more on it, Eleanor jumped up and sped off, as if a world-class athlete out of the blocks.
Jöanth was surprised with her speed and was satisfied that she would make it out safely. Whatever was in here with them, hadn't moved. It wasn't pursuing her.
But then she stumbled and came down on one knee. Without hesitation, Jöanth closed the gap between himself and Eleanor. He looked to the roof where he sensed the thing was observing them, certain it would attack now. He tensed, waiting for it to pounce, his brain running through the list of likely creatures.
But it didn't move.
Eleanor got up and limped to the door, which was a mere five paces away. She made it out without looking back. Jöanth could hear the brief, yet joyful reunion outside as the girls bundled back into the car and locked the doors behind them.
The thing had still not moved. And Jöanth couldn't see what it was. He knew where it was. Could sense it. He felt it through the extended fine hairs on his forearms and neck. It was there all right, he just couldn't see it, even with his enhanced álvur eyesight.
Jöanth smelled and tasted the air. There was no trace of it. But he could hear it. It made a soft rustling sound, as if it was a coarse fabric rustling in a faint breeze. It was exceptionally faint, but Jöanth was able to pick up on the sound. And yet, the thing was dead still. There was no movement from it. It stayed in exactly the same spot even though Jöanth could hear movement. He sensed that there was movement within the creature somehow. It didn't quite make sense, but the thing sent out fine vibrations, as if it was caught in perpetual motion within the space it occupied, but without physically moving. If not for his Gifts, Jöanth would not have known of the thing.
Jöanth casually reached for a throwing knife in the elastic band of his sweat shorts. He disliked his garb intensely. The pants and shirt weren't practical at all. They were uncomfortable, poor insulators, highly flammable, not waterproof, noisy, and worst of all, they looked weird. Jöanth couldn't think of a worse getup for going into battle.
With one smooth movem
ent, that took less than the blink of an eye, he threw the blade at the thing. The blade embedded itself in the aluminum roof. Jöanth knew his aim had been true, he hadn't missed. Which meant that the blade had passed through the watcher.
The list of suspects grew substantially shorter. It could now be only one of four possible creatures. Only one of them could be found on Terra.
Jöanth kept one eye on the spot where the creature hung and made his way to the exit. At the door, he flicked the light switches. The lights were slow in turning on and the thing was lightning fast. Before Jöanth could see its complete form, it squeezed itself through a narrow opening in one of the roof vents. Jöanth had seen nothing but a flitting dark shadow, but what he had seen had been enough. It wasn't a ghost or a specter. Jöanth never suspected that it would be. This was something from off-world, not even native to Edínu.
This was a beiier, and a lot started to make sense now. Some of the pieces were finally falling into place.
CHAPTER 46
Having been reunited with her phone, Eleanor immediately phoned Troy Troger. His phone went straight to voicemail. She called the station in the hope that he would be there, but they replied in the negative. The woman at the desk acted a bit suspicious over the line, asking Eleanor all kinds of unnecessary questions and she got the idea that they knew the sheriff was missing.
People would be out looking for him and that was a good sign. She regretted not being able to tell them that he might be in a warehouse. She wouldn't have been able to explain that knowledge.
Jöanth went so far as to search the neighboring units of the small industrial park, but Troy wasn't there. His internal radar also told him that the svartálvur wasn't anywhere near them.
The next best thing to do was head out to the McKinley Dam on the outskirts of town. Built in 1907 and named after a famous archaeologist who had been born in Havensford back in the 1850s, it supplied water to most of the county. McKinley had a catchment area of just under a hundred square miles, and a surface area of only 800 hectares. It was by no stretch of the imagination a large dam. Anyone who had ever been to the Theodore Roosevelt, Oroville, or Hoover dams would feel that McKinley was nothing more than a splash pool, but to the townsfolk of Havensford, it was a massive expanse of water. The dam wall itself was only forty feet high, and just over a hundred feet wide, but it held back over a hundred thousand cubic meters of water.
Stirring Embers: An urban fantasy action adventure (The Light and the Void Book 1) Page 33