by Paul Taylor
The three of them - Richard, Ben and Shade - sit in Ben's living room, drinking half warm beer and rehashing everything that's happened so far. Shade tells most of it, with Ben filling in a couple of the blanks. Rich sits and looks on, amazed. Or disbelieving, Ben can't tell. Either way, when they're done, Rich doesn't say much. Just sits there and looks at them.
Finally he speaks. "We've got a problem here, boys," he says and shakes his empty beer bottle at them. "We're getting low on beer and I'm gonna need a lot more if we're telling ghost stories."
Shade and Ben look at each other. That's it, then, as of this moment, Rich is more of a hindrance than a help and they'll have to work out how best to keep him out of the way-
"Lighten up boys," Rich says, seeing their black looks. "Of course I believe you. How could I have sat through what I've experienced over the last two days and not believe you?"
Ben almost throws his bottle at Rich. "You idiot," he says, not unkindly. "So, speaking of which, what did happen to you?"
"Pretty boring, actually," says Rich. "I was working when everything started to go to hell, desk jockeying, and when I realised what was going on, that it was what you already thought was happening," he nods at Ben. "I decided there wasn't much point getting out anywhere. The phones were ringing off the hook so someone had to stay there and answer them, and the next thing I knew there were shadows everywhere."
A pause, a mouthful of beer, and he goes on. "I took as much ammunition as I could lay my hands on, by this time I was the only person left at the station, so I retreated to the holding cells and set myself up to hold the fort." He grins. "Shadowy as they are, they still didn't seem real fond of bullets. After a few shots, they sort of lost any real interest in killing me, or eating me, or whatever it is they do to people. I tell you what, though, I wouldn't want to spend another night like last night. Talk about jumping at shadows." He offers a feeble grin and Ben realises for the first time how very tired Rich is. He looks exhausted.
They sit for a while in the semi-darkness of the candle-lit illumination of Casa Del Reilly and shoot the breeze while they finish off Ben's current beer supply. Ben soon realises the truth of what Shade told him, that when you have no shadow, beer has no effect on you. He's disappointed, and feels a faint sense of melancholy at the thought. He'll never be able to get well and truly smashed again in his life. A shame really, although, he thinks, at least he'll be able to kick arse in drinking competitions.
Ben wants to discuss how they're going to play this, decide whether they're going to go in at the shadows with all guns blazing and kick them back into whatever darkness spawns them, but he senses intuitively that now is not the time. They're all drawn and tired. No matter what Shade says about that, even without a shadow you still can't go flat out twenty-four seven without feeling like you're on the knife's edge of endurance. So, after a few more beers, when Richard's starting to nod off, and in danger of falling off the milk crate (Ben should have offered Rich an arm chair, he supposes) they decide to call it a night. Sleep or no sleep, it'll do them good to have a rest and get their heads together. Ben knows Shade won't sleep, he'll be standing vigil, guarding. That's all right, it makes Ben feel better about trying to sleep. Although he already knows chances are he won't be able to.
Ben at least thinks to offer Richard his bed.
"You're not going to sleep, are you?" Ben asks Shade.
Shade looks at him. "I told you, I don't—"
"Yeah, I know," Ben says tiredly. "You're the Terminator. You don't eat, you don't sleep, you just keep going and going until all the shadows are gone. Hasta la vista, baby."
Shade grins at him. "You got it."
"Well, you can stand guard if you want, I'm at least going to close my eyes for a while and let my mind relax."
"Off you go," Shade says. "Don't worry. I'll take good care of us."
Ben notices in Shade's glow the dark circles under his eyes. Perhaps they are emphasised by the night, but Ben thinks that maybe a little bit of a rest wouldn't be so bad for Shade either. He doesn't say anything. If Shade wants to play hero, that's up to him.
Despite what Shade said, Ben does manage to slip into a kind of dozy, half sleep. It's not a whole doze and he supposes it must be somewhat like meditating, because, while not asleep, neither is he fully aware of his surroundings. He has effectively tuned out. Somewhere he can hear Rich snoring, a loud, rasping snore. But that's only on the periphery of his senses, everything else is turned inwards. Ben hears a stealthy sound at the front of the house, a quiet tread, and pays it little heed. Shade's on guard, if it's anything major, he'll be in here in a flash telling Ben to get off his arse and help him. So thinking, Ben continues to drift. The noise becomes a yell and Ben sits bolt upright. He leaps to his feet and rushes towards the front of the house where he can hear sounds of fighting. He hears laughing; an ugly, mean sound and recognises it as Neil. Shit. The Shadoweaters have found them somehow. "Somehow", Ben almost laughs to himself, they already knew Ben was here, because Allan popped by to see him the other day. We should have gone somewhere else, he thinks.
As Ben races down the hallway something materialises in front of him, blocking his way, and he runs headlong into it. It's soft and yielding, but won't let him through, like a big rubber wall. Ben bounces back from it. In his glow, Ben can see it is some kind of shadow barrier, like what they encountered at the motel. All the strobes are out in the car, so he can't even use them to get through. Shit. He races to the back of the house, thinking to dart around the back and come in on them that way, but it's too late. By the time he reaches the front of the house they're gone, Shade with them. No sign of their vehicles, or the attackers, or even any sign that they'd been here.
"Fuck it," Ben yells. "Damn shit pissy fart-hole mother-fuck my little rubber ducky. Fucker."
Now he's really screwed.
When Rich comes out the next morning Ben is still slumped in the armchair where he's spent the remainder of the night. He can't summon the energy to move, he doesn't even look up as Rich comes in. Rich notices straight away there's something wrong.
"Shade's been taken," Ben tells him. "They came during the night and kidnapped him."
"Oh, great," says Rich. "So now there's two people we have to rescue."
"Uh-uh," says Ben, shaking his head. "We're not rescuing anyone. We're gonna go and get the army or something and get them to come in now. I can't do this on my own. No way I'm going in without Shade."
Rich looks at him, a narrow, slitted eyes look, and Ben can feel it coming before he says anything.
"Why not?" Rich says quietly.
"We can't," says Ben. "If we go in there we're going to get our arses kicked. I can't fight these guys on my own. Shade was our guy, he knows all their ins and outs, he already beat them once."
"So what?" says Rich. "Because you're such a pussy, we're just going to run off and leave Kath there with those bastards now? Let them have their way with her? Is that how you want to play it?"
"Kath's probably already dead!" Ben snaps.
"You hope," says Rich. "Because if she's dead, you don't have to feel bad about not going to rescue her."
"Try. Try and rescue her. I'm not going to be able to. Shade could have rescued her, but not me. I can't do shit on my own. Don't you see that? Shade had all the knowledge, he knew what to do, he came up with the strobe lights. What chance do I have?"
"Yes," says Rich. "He's got the ideas and experience but ideas and experience aren't everything. He's got the guts and the desire. That gives him strength. All he exists for is to eradicate the Shadoweaters and he'll do anything to do that. All you want to is rescue your girlfriend, my cousin. And you haven't even got the guts to try."
Rich shuts up before Ben hits him, and lets Ben dwell on that for a while. The thing is, Ben knows Rich is right and he hates that. He fucking hates being called a coward, and Rich probably knows that too. The thing is, now that Ben knows he's running away, what is he going to do about it? Not muc
h. He wishes none of this had ever happened, that he'd never even moved back from Sydney. But he did, and now here he is. He knows he can't go back, not now. His shadow's gone and Shade has hinted that he is destined for greater things.
Ben looks bleakly at Rich. "Help me," he says. "What the fuck am I going to do?"
"Okay, look," says Rich. "You guys have this whole radioactive look going, right? I mean, you're like a couple of walking night lights. Can you do anything with it, or is it just for show?"
"Well," Ben thinks for a moment. It hadn't actually occurred to him that he might be able to use his glow for something. "I guess, I have seen Shade sort of direct a beam from it, you know. He makes a beam of it shine out?"
"There you go, that's a start. Can you do that?"
"No," says Ben. "I don't know how. I asked him once but he told me I'd learn later."
"Maybe now's the time, then. Come on, Ben, you're not a stupid man, I know if you put your mind to it you can do this."
"I can't, Rich, I really can't. I don't know how."
"Put your mind to it," Rich insists. "I bet it's like one of those meditation techniques where you visualise a beam of light extending out from your body. You should be able to do it with the same visualisation techniques."
"I don't know," Ben says, still stalling. "I feel kind of stupid."
"Better for you to feel stupid than for Kath to feel dead," Rich snaps. "Now just give it a try."
Ben does as he says. He moves off the armchair and onto the floor to sit cross-legged. He figures he might as well go all the way. Ben closes his eyes and concentrates, picturing the glow that surrounds him, and thinking of consciously directing it. He imagines a finger of light stretching out from him towards Rich, feels the glow tightening about him as it stretches out.
Rich gasps and Ben knows that he's doing it. He risks opening his eyes and sees a small ray of light shining at Rich. Almost as soon as he sees it though, he loses concentration and it vanishes.
"See," says Rich. "I knew you could do it. Try it again."
"Yeah," Ben says, disconsolate. "I can do it, big whoop. Now I never need to worry about being stuck without a torch."
Rich sighs and Ben can feel him trying to rein in his impatience and frustration. "If you take the time to learn how to do it well, you might be able to use it as a weapon. Hell, Ben, you might even be your own walking strobe light."
He's right. Ben hasn't even thought of that. He remembers how the shadows at the cop-shop kept beyond the range of their glow. If Ben can channel it, maybe he can use it as a weapon. Recrossing his legs he concentrates again, this time focussing on sending out multiple beams. He can feel them radiating out from his body and he hears Rich gasp again.
"My God," Rich says. "You're like a picture of a fucking saint."
Ben opens his eyes and winks at Rich. "Pretty cool, huh?"
"Yes," he agrees. "Pretty cool. Okay, so listen. I'm gonna go out and see if I can find some sign of whereabouts these Shadoweaters are holing up, while you stay here and practice, okay?"
"Sounds good," Ben says. He stands up and puts a hand on Richard's shoulder. "Promise me you'll be careful though, huh?"
"Hey," Rich says. "Don't worry about me. I've got a gun." He grins at Ben. "Seriously, though. I do have some experience in taking care of myself."
"Cool, just don't get in too close."
Ben sits back down to practice his light rays and wait for his chance to kick some shadow arse.
It's late by the time Rich comes back, almost lunch time, and Ben's starting to worry. He's about all practiced out with his "glow" and would be happy if he never sees or hears of another meditation/visualisation technique in his life.
"What'd you find?" Ben asks Rich the second he comes in.
Rich hands him a cold Crown Lager from the carton he's carrying. "I found a drive through that still has cold beers," he says, grinning.
Ben assures him that this is most excellent work. "But what else did you find?" he persists. "Any sign of the Shadoweaters?"
Rich raises his eyebrows at Ben, being all he can do with a beer bottle stuck in his face. "Sure did," he says finally. "Your friends are holed up at Woolies."
"They're not my—"
He cuts Ben off with a wave of his hand. "I know, I know, they're not your friends. It's just an easy word to describe them. What would you prefer, arch-enemies? Your nemesis? Nemesii? What's the word for multiple nemesises?"
"I think it's nemesi," Ben says. "So they're at Woolies? The plaza?"
Rich nods. "I saw a few likely looking lads hanging around there and a couple more inside."
"You went inside?"
"Do I look like I have a death wish? I saw them through the glass doors, standing guard inside."
Ben nods. "Okay, good. That's good. Now we just have to come up with a plan to take them on."
"How about you go in the front, and I sneak in the back and rescue Kath and Shade?"
"Well, we can't just walk in," Ben protests, although deep down, some part of him knows full well that this is all they can do.
"We have to. Unless you want to do some kind of drop down through the roof thing like Tom Cruise?"
Ben sips sullenly at his beer. "Fine," he says. "You ready to go then?"
"Let's."
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE