Shadowville: Book One of the Shadoweaters

by Paul Taylor

  It was dark and cool outside and Ben realised too late that he'd left his jacket inside after slinging it over the back of a bar-stool. Well, he wasn't going back inside now, if they wanted it they could have it, he'd come back in the morning.

  The day had been warm for winter and the full moon bled like a wound as it ascended the sky. It looked like the opening shot from one of those movies about Mars everyone was making now, Red Planet, or one of those. The sky was so full of stars it seemed they were jostling each other for space and Ben couldn't remember when he'd last seen so many of them. Like every other natural thing in the city the stars were drowned out by the crawling, overpowering, unnatural crud of the city.

  So many constellations, so bright and clear. Ben stood looking up at the stars for a few minutes, enraptured by them, and felt a small peace creep over him. Despite the fact that the left side of his head was throbbing like a croaking frog.

  He started walking, wandering aimlessly along the street and wishing he could run into Pete, or Neil - even better - out here on the street where they could go one on one against each other without being interrupted. He'd show them a thing or two. He'd gotten into a fight once outside a pub in Sydney. It had been a big night out and some drunken idiot had tried to grope Jessica. Ben had a vague recollection the guy had ended up leaving in the back of an ambulance. He wished he could do the same to Neil.

  So absorbed was he in his joyous revenge fantasy that Ben didn't notice the Subaru Ute roll up beside him on the street. A big German Shepherd sat placidly in the back and a middle-aged looking guy with a ruddy complexion leaned out the driver's side window. For a few seconds he rolled along unnoticed beside Ben. Then, with a grin, he flicked on the roof-mounted spotlight and aimed it squarely at Ben.

  "Stop right there, thanks mate," boomed a voice from the car.

  Ben jumped, shocked out of his reverie, and glanced around to see if he'd stumbled into some kind of secure area. He was halfway along Walker Street now and as far as he could see he wasn't doing anything wrong. Maybe he was breaking some kind of loitering law.

  "G'day, mate," said a man, hauling himself out of the Ute.

  "Uh, hi?" said Ben, shrugging his shoulders and squinting into the light in complete bafflement.

  The guy who'd gotten out of the car was big and beefy, like Ben expected Security Guards to look. With the spotlight shining from behind him and into Ben's eyes, his general shape was the only detail Ben could make out.

  "Wanna tell me exactly what you're doing there, mate?" said the guard.

  Huh?

  Ben thought furiously, trying to work out what he'd been doing that had garnered this guard's attention. And then it occurred to him. This guy was probably mates with Neil and they'd sent him after Ben to beat the crap out of him.

  "Look, buddy, I don't know who you are," said Ben. "I'm just having a bit of a walk and heading home. I don't want any trouble but you come anywhere near me and I'll beat the shit out of you."

  "Hey now, is that any way to talk to an old mate?" said the guard.

  The shadowy figure walked towards him with that rolling side to side motion that only very fat people seem to be able to manage.

  "Oh shit," said Ben, finally recognising him. "Oh, it couldn't be. Dwayne Martin?"

  "None other," said Dwayne, stepping out of the spotlight with a huge grin on his face. "How you doin, mate?"

  "Jesus, you big gorilla," laughed Ben, sticking his hand out at him. "You half scared the crap out of me. The shit night I've had I thought maybe they'd instituted a law against being me."

  "Why, what's up?" asked Dwayne, still grinning but looking concerned at the same time.

  "Oh, nothin," said Ben. "Just shit. So what've you been up to, man? You a security guard now?"

  "Three years," said Dwayne with a proud smile. "Since I got fired from Woollies."

  Ben laughed. "You hit too many cars with the trolleys?"

  "Nah, they reckoned I spent more time talkin than getting trolleys so I was 'let go' as they put it."

  "Heh, sacked from Woollies. That'd look good on the old resume."

  "Who's got a what now?" said Dwayne.

  "Ah, forget it," said Ben.

  "Geez, you've changed since high school," Dwayne slapped him on the shoulder with one meaty paw. "I almost didn't recognise you! You're fucking skinny, man!"

  "Yeah, skinny as the sun is cold."

  "I'm not kiddin," said Dwayne. "No offence but you were a fat fucker in high school. Now you look like Stick Cowan or someone. You lost a heap! Whereas me," he went on, patting his gut with both hands. "I kept getting bigger."

  "Hey man, it suits you," said Ben. "Security Guards need to be big, intimidating guys otherwise no one takes them seriously, they're a cop without a gun. And the uglier the better too," he added, grinning.

  "I'll give you ugly," said Dwayne. "You'd lose a beauty contest with Freddy Krueger."

  "Cock-sucker," said Ben.

  "Only for you, baby," replied Dwayne easily. "Seriously though, what happened to you? You look like you've been in a fight? That some of the trouble you mentioned?"

  "Yeah," said Ben, one hand went to his bruised stomach. "Nothing bad, just ran into some old 'friends' from school."

  "Wouldn't happen to be Neil and Co, would it?"

  "Yeah. It would. Fuckin faggots."

  "I hear ya," said Dwayne. "Wussy fuckers are scared o' me now. 'specially since I got me billy club." He proudly held up the night stick attached to his belt.

  "You're allowed to carry that?" said Ben, his eyes wide.

  "Technically, no," said Dwayne. "But the cops turn a blind eye and I try not to bust too many heads."

  "I coulda used one of them about half an hour ago," said Ben.

  "You ever need it," said Dwayne. "You give me a holler, orright?"

  Ben said he would.

  "Orright. Well, I'd love to hang round and chat but, y'know," he shrugged his shoulders, "I gotta drive around town a bit. Make it look good."

  "For sure," said Ben. "Show the townsfolk that Dwayne Martin's looking after their best interests."

  "And looking out for those damn out-of-townies," muttered Dwayne.

  "Say what?" said Ben.

  "Ah, nothing," Dwayne shook his head. "Just mouthin off."

  "No," said Ben. "You said something about out-of-towners. What about them? They're all I've heard about since I got here."

  "Nothin, mate," said Dwayne, and Ben saw with surprise he was getting nervous now. "Just, you know, people from out of town, they cause a lot of trouble. They don't care what they do cause they don't live here, they're troublemakers."

  Ben was about to ask again but Dwayne, perhaps sensing Ben knew there was more, cut him off. "Listen, mate. I really got to go. I'll catch you later, orright."

  Ben watched him waddle back to the Ute and wedge himself into the driver's seat. Dwayne gave him a brief wave as he drove off.

  "This place just gets creepier and creepier," muttered Ben to himself.

  CHAPTER SEVEN