by Shaun Meeks
“Sara? Is that you? What’s going on?”
“She’s not coming to the phone, Hunter. She’s busy with other things at the moment.”
It’s the voice of the shadowy man who was in the sewers, the one who called the Colossus’ up from wherever they once were. “I see you’ve been figuring things out, haven’t you? Was it the old bastard Godfrey who led you down this path?”
“Who are you?” I demand, yelling at him so loud my head starts to pound again and my vision wavers. “Did you hurt her?”
“Your friend, or is she just a customer? Either way, yes. I did in fact hurt her quite a lot I’m afraid. She was trying to tell you about something I want, or at least something I want to keep away from you. As soon as I found out you had the book, well, I knew you were going to go to the only person you knew who might lead you to where certain items were.”
“You sonofabitch! I swear when I catch you, you’re going to regret every bit of this.” I sit down on the couch, my head pounding and spinning way too much for me to deal with this right now. I feel responsible for Sara’s death, even though I had no way to know the bastard would be there, or could know I had the book or even that I would go to her. He seems to be two steps ahead of me at every turn and I don’t like it.
“You and your silly name-calling, Hunter. Now, maybe if you tell me where Godfrey is and you give me the book you can just forget this whole silly thing of trying to come after me. Let it go and maybe I won’t be so mean about what’s to come. Of course, I’m still going to come after you, but at least I won’t be a jerk about it and kill the pretty little redhead of yours too.”
“You even think about touching her and I swear—”
“Oh, stop swearing. I get it. You’re a tough guy with a mean streak and I’ll get mine. Sure. I’m positive we will see just how strong you are, Hunter. But, I will give you a few days to think about it, and no more. If you don’t give me Godfrey and the book, well, I guess I’ll see if I can make someone as tough as you cry like the bitch I’m pretty sure you are.”
“Why not meet now? Let’s see how fucking tough you are face to face!” I’m yelling this, but the line has gone dead and there’s nothing but static. Bastard.
Yet, as angry as I am, I’m also filled with fear and dread. The threat he made is serious and there’s no way I’m letting anything happen to Rouge. Not long ago I saw these things of myth known as the Shadow People take hold of her, threaten to devour her from the inside out and it was enough for me to offer myself up to them. I don’t want it to even come to that this time. I have to do something now.
I dial her number and she answers it on the second ring.
“Wow, Dillon. Miss me already.”
“Of course,” I say, and even I can hear the shaky tone of my voice. No doubt she can too.
“Are you all right? You sound like you’re about to cry or something.”
“Look, I need you to go find somewhere safe to stay. Out of town or the country, anywhere but here.”
“What the hell’s going on? You’re scaring me, Dillon.”
“Good. You need to be scared,” I say, and explain to her the phone call with Sara. I would love to give her some bullshit reason, to say that everything is fine and dandy and I just think a vacation would be nice, but I need her to know the truth. I would never lie to her about anything, especially something as serious as this. “Just go get the pup, pack a bag, and go. You can’t tell me where you’re going and you can’t call me. When this is all over, when everything is safe again, I’ll call you.”
“Dillon. I can’t just—”
“Please. He’s already killed three police officers and someone else I know. Now he’s after me and Godfrey and I have no idea why. I don’t want him coming after you too. There’s no way I could live with it.”
We talk a little more and eventually she agrees. She says she’ll do it, but if I don’t call her back within two weeks, she’s coming home. I tell her that’s fair enough and I guess it is. If I can’t deal with this guy in that time frame, it’s probably because I’ll be dead.
We take a little longer to say goodbye and for a moment I’m thinking this may be the last time I talk to her. The future is starting to seem bleak at the moment, and there’s a chance that whoever this person is, warlock, dark magician or something else entirely, he means to kill me, and/or Rouge. I need to find a way to stop him. I need to find Godfrey.
Before all that though, I need to go in hiding. If I stay here, I’m a target, a sitting duck just waiting to be killed. I need to go somewhere nobody will find me, yet I’ll still be able to do what I need to do. Where that is, I’m not so sure right now. Not having a car makes this all the worse since I have no easy way to get around.
Damn it.
Instead of stressing out, I move around my place as fast as I can and pack things into a bag. I grab my gloves, my Tincher, the book Godfrey left for me, my laptop, my cellphone, chargers, and a stack of cash, and then I head out the door. I lock up and run down the stairs and for a moment I’m expecting the man and his monsters to be waiting for me. Instead I’m greeted with cool air as the sun sets and night begins to fall. I walk along the street until a cab comes up and I hail him. Luckily I don’t look like a crack or meth head so he pulls over and picks me up without a thought.
“Where to?” he asks, and I’m not even sure. I could go to the church and see Father Ted, but that’s too easy. Anyone who knows anything about me the way this one does would find me there in a second. I think also of Detective Garcia, but how would he explain me to his family. Plus, he was with me in the sewer and would be targeted as well. Since I’m going for something that’s unexpected, I do the only other thing I can think to do.
“The marina at Ontario Place,” I tell him, and off we go. I don’t know anyone there, nor do I have a boat, so it’ll be the perfect place to go. I have done a job there in the past and since most of it is sitting empty at the moment, a tourist attraction that lost all its steam years ago, there will be plenty of places to camp out and stay out of site. Once there, maybe I can put together some sort of plan, figure a feasible way out of this mess.
Maybe.
Monday
It’s a little after midnight and I’ve thought of nothing good.
The place I’m holed up in used to be a room the lifeguards at the waterslide had for breaks and whatnot. There are pictures on the wall of girls in bikinis and men who look like they eat way too much protein. The whole place is covered in thick layers of dust and cobwebs, and it really smells terrible. It’s as though there are dead rodents behind every wall. I can tell druggies had been hanging out here at some point. There are bent spoons, crack pipes and porn mags scattered here and there and I’m sure it adds to the fresh aroma around me. Still, beggars can’t be choosers. I don’t have a lot of options, so this’ll have to do for now.
One good thing is the outlets still work. I guess since parts of this place are still open to the public they still have power running, despite the waste and cost. It reminds me of videos I’ve seen of River Country, an abandoned water park at Walt Disney World. The place was shut down years ago. There are all kinds of rumours as to why and in the videos people go on and on about brain eating amoebas and all kinds of fun stuff. The freakiest part about it is seeing how nature is doing everything in her power to reclaim the land and yet the old soundtrack is still playing over the speakers. Watching videos of it, seeing the green and blacks swallowing up a place that was once so full of happiness while banjo music drones on and on in an endless loop is scarier than any horror movie I’ve ever watched.
Creepy.
This place is running in at a close second, yet it will be my home until I see any huge bugs crawling about or that man and his monsters find me. If I have it my way I’ll find them first, preferably with all the weapons I need.
I called my tattoo arti
st, Glenn, while on the road and cancelled our meeting. He was more than happy, since his brother and sister in-law are over at his house and he really didn’t want to do it anyway. I told him I’d call later in the week and make other plans, but I’ll need him to be available at the drop of a hat. He knows all about me and my line of work, so this doesn’t surprise him at all. He says no problem and I’m sure it’s not out of the goodness of his heart, but because I offer to pay him three times what I normally would. Money helps make loyal friends.
Once that is done, I start reading more of the book and check online for the items I need to defeat him. The only thing I’m guaranteed at this point is the hair of a northerner. Even though Rouge didn’t leave me any when she was at my house I’m not out of luck there. I know she keeps bits of her own hair at home in her bathroom, which she uses to do certain hairstyles. Luckily I have a key to her house so that’s accessible to me. One of three items down.
Of course once I get the tattoo from Glenn, that’ll be two items down and then it’s just a matter of the sceptre. So far, that item is a mystery to me. I’ve Googled it, gone on websites that deal with Egyptian artefacts and I even checked World of Warcraft and Dungeons and Dragons forums in case this isn’t even something that really exists anymore and I need a good replica. Yet no matter how much I look, there doesn’t seem to be a single mention of it anywhere other than the damn book. What are the chances of finding something that doesn’t appear to exist?
After another two hours of hunting for it I give up and decide to call it a night. I know that these creatures, the Colossus, are nocturnal and won’t come out during the day, so I might as well sleep and go about searching for things during the light of day when I’ll have some sort of protection. I almost feel like I’m up against vampires, but that’s just silly.
I make something that resembles a bed and lay down, doing my best to sleep in the dark, grimy room. I’m trying to relax, to let myself drift off, but it’s not easy. The smell alone is almost enough to keep sleep at bay. There’s also the random itching I feel all over me. I’m almost sure there’s a bug or twenty crawling across my arm, but every time I go to swat them away, I find nothing but my own restless mind causing the irritation. No bugs, no rats, just an over-active mind and exhaustion.
To help, I push away all the thoughts of the last few days and instead think about the last real date I had with Rouge. It was two weeks ago and we went out to eat at this sushi restaurant she loves and I let her have whatever she wanted. After that, we went for a walk down to the Harbourfront and had ice cream while we sat on the edge of the water and watched the sun set. We stayed there long after the sun went out and the moon rose. It was a quiet and simple date, but we talked and talked and I’ve never felt more connected to someone in my entire life than I did to her right then.
I let those thoughts take me down the spiral of sleep and I’m sure there’s a smile on my face as I go.
I wake up to the loud blaring of a boat horn close by. I’d been dreaming about death, of the sound Sara made on the phone, only this time I was there in the room with her as the mystery man, the one who controls the Colossus, peeled her skin off her face and ate it. I tried to run to her, to save her from the vicious act of a man wrapped in shadows, but I felt as though my body was glued to the floor. I looked down at my feet and saw roots had broken through the hardwood floor and wrapped themselves around my lower half. Blood coursed down my legs where the wooden tentacles buried themselves into my flesh, but there was no pain. The only hurt I felt was inside my heart as I looked back up and saw Sara staring back, her face nothing but red pulp as she held her arms towards me and cried out my name.
Dillon!
Then the horn went off and I woke up nearly gasping. So, even though I’m yanked from sleep too quickly, I’m glad of it.
I sit up and my body is sore from the terrible bed I made. I really should file a complaint with the hotel manager here. This is no way to treat a paying customer. I stretch out as many of the kinks I can before I pack up my things and get ready to try and hunt down some answers. I check my phone and am glad to see that Rouge didn’t call me, something I was worried about. The last thing I need is her to call when she gets to where she’s going and somehow the bastard is able to find her. I have no idea what he can do or how long his reach is. I need her to lay as low as she can until this is over.
It’s just after ten in the morning. It’s an ungodly hour for someone like me to be up. That thought tells me where my first stop of the day will be. I’m not sure why it’s there I’m deciding to go, but it’s as good of a place as any. I could use a friend at the moment. I decide not to call him; after all, he doesn’t have a cellphone and there’s no saying he’ll be near his phone. Better to just head to the church and surprise Ted and lay it all out for him. He loves puzzles, always has a Sudoku thing out, so this might be right up his alley.
I walk out carefully, not wanting to be seen in case I decide to come back again, which at the moment is the most likely scenario. Where else can I go at this point? The sun is bright to the point of being blinding and I take out my sunglasses. Once they’re on I head out of Ontario Place and try to find a cab. Not an easy task in that area. I have to walk all the way up to Front Street to find one and then it costs me nearly forty dollars to get to the church. This cab thing is killing me. Maybe I should just steal a car.
In the light of day the church is splendid looking. It’s very gothic, with light grey stonework, epic stain glass, and four towers that stand five storeys tall. They just don’t build things like this anymore. Nowadays it’s all glass and steel, not to mention ugly shapes and angles. A few years ago there was an add-on to the ROM. It looks like a terrible glass growth being born out of a wonderful historic building. Just awful to look at. And don’t get me started on the Art Gallery! What are the higher-ups in this city thinking? Not much is my guess.
I walk into the dark shadows of the church and head to the back where the alter is and the hallway which leads to the rectory. Halfway there I nearly jump out of my skin.
“Dillon?”
Father Ted’s voice comes from one of the pews to my left and when I turn I see the man on his knees with a bucket and brush in hand. No wonder I didn’t see him when I walked in. He was bent down cleaning the gum of his loyal flock from the undersides of seats of where they sit. How catholic of them.
“What are you doing here, Dillon? Did you help Detective Garcia out?” he asks, as he stands up and wipes his hands off on a red towel.
“Not really. It’s actually why I’m here. I might need your help.”
“Might?”
“No, I really need it,” I admit, and he walks over to me.
“Let’s go to my office and you can tell me what’s going on.”
I follow him through the church and feel a little better. The place is cool and quiet and I can see why people come to places like this. The sheer size of it, with the high ceiling and statues of people who we’re told have been through so much makes you feel small in a way. Feeling small helps to make your problems seem insignificant in the grand scheme of things. I wish I could just sit there for a moment, meditate on it all and hope things just pass by. Maybe they will, but I doubt it.
Once in his office he offers tea, but I decline. Peel is there, huddled in the corner with a comic book, though for the most part he’s looking at me as I tell Father Ted everything that’s happened to date. I go through the taking of the last child, the cops dying in the sewer, the things down there with the man who knew who I was, the disappearance of Godfrey, the murder of Sara and the book. It takes longer than I thought it would, and when I’m done I feel my headache coming back. I’m starting to wonder if this damn thing will ever fully go away.
“So, you know how to kill the monsters?” Ted asks, and gets me water and some Advil, clearly seeing me in pain.
“I think so. The book says what I n
eed, but one thing makes no sense.”
“What’s that?”
“The sceptre of the third Pharaoh. Nobody seems to know what that is or where to find it, so I’m kind of stuck.”
Father Ted shakes his head and looks as confused as I feel. “I can’t say it rings a bell for me either. I’m assuming it’s Egyptian though?”
“That would be my guess,” I tell him, and down the painkillers and my head continues to pulse. “I’d called Sara up thinking she’d know, but when I did, that’s when she was killed by the bast…sorry, by the shadowy man.”
“No need to apologize, Dillon. I can completely understand how you feel. This is not your regular work. Where’s Rouge in all of this?”
“Safe. When the guy threatened to kill her if I didn’t do as he told, I called her and told her to run.”
“Is she somewhere safe?”
“Seeing as I have no idea where she is at all, it’s the safest place to be. I have no idea what this guy can find out, if he has some way of finding things out from people or tapping phone lines, so we’re not going to have any contact. I can’t let anything happen to her.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
I thought so too, but I really wish she was still around. Just being near her makes life so much easier in a way that doesn’t really make sense. She gives me comfort just with her presence and that’s something I’ve never known before. It’s like I can figure things out better with her close by, that I see things clearer with her there. But I would never risk her life just for a bit of comfort, so I’ll figure this out on my own. Well, that’s the plan at least.
“And what about the book?” he asks, and sips some tea.
“It’s safe. I guess as much as it can be,” I tell him, seeing as it’s in my bag, which is next to me on the floor. “Seeing as the shadowy man wants it so bad, I need to make sure nothing happens to it.”