Crik (48 page)

‘You know I care for you,’ said Yang. ‘I have often proven it. I’ve stuck by you through all this adventure.’ Yang’s voice cracked with emotion. ‘All I want is to see you grow, and to grow with you. To help you in everything you try. You’re also inside me.’ Yang tapped his chest.

The only visible part of the Birdman was his bone white hands as they spread like crab claws around Yang’s neck. The shadow gasped as the man with the patchwork scars hoisted him backward.

Jack screamed. The purple light had made Yang solid, protecting the Birdman from the harmful light, and hiding him from Jack’s sight. His shadow, gasping for air, locked his hands about his assailant’s wrists.

‘Leave him alone,’ cried Jack. He jumped to the left, swinging the lantern in an attempt to throw light onto the man. The Birdman kept Yang facing the light with a turn of his body.

‘Demon die,’ growled the Birdman. His fingers dug deeper into Yang’s neck.

Horrified, Jack watched as Yang tried to alter his form from Bill’s into something that would allow him to escape the man’s clutches. Each time the shadow tried to free himself the man squeezed harder, defeating Yang’s every effort.

‘Leave him alone,’ said Jack.

‘Kill demon.’ Grunting with effort the man drove his fingers into Yang’s black flesh.

A cold flutter in Jack’s stomach had him press a hand against his shirt. Movement pulsed under his skin. The Birdman was killing his demon. Jack shook his head, it wasn’t a demon, nor was it his Narmacil, the Birdman was killing Yang. Never again would his shadow pull up Liza Manfry’s skirt. He would never wake up to find a stuffed animal on his pillow, placed there to scare him. His mother would only lay one plate for him on the kitchen table. Faced with losing Yang he knew he couldn’t live without him. Yang said he remembered Jack’s life; Jack also remembered each day with Yang. Having Yang meant he was never alone. Without Yang, his life would be less than it is. It would be as empty as a shadow that followed the sun.

Jack’s sudden dart to the side scored light across the man’s arm. Flinching against the searing pain, the Birdman blocked the light with Yang’s weakening body. Yang hung limp in the man’s rough grasp, another minute and he would die. A cold shudder twisted through Jack’s stomach.

‘Yang,’ he shouted.

‘Kill you.’ The Birdman looked over Yang’s sagging head at Jack.

‘Yang!’

Yang lifted his head; he tried to speak, his mouth formed a word only for a choke to mingle with the baby’s startling cry.

Jack brought the lantern up to his face. The purple haze made his tears sparkle on his cheeks. Yang still held onto the Birdman’s wrists. Another minute and those hands will drop and his shadow would disappear. To save Yang, he would have to sacrifice himself. ‘I’m sorry Yang.’ He extinguished the candle.

One damp autumnal da
y
Jack had witnessed Farmer Goldsmith lead a pig to slaughter. The squealing animal had spawned a thousand nightmares, from which he awoke bathed in a lather of sweat. Now, cowering in the dark, he listened to the Birdman make the same horrific sound. Unable to see, made the man’s cries take on phantasmagorical shapes. In his mind, the man’s clubfoot became a cloven hoof.

Amongst the inane babble, the man said, ‘It gone. Where’d it go?’ The frantic words tumbled from him as he screamed his outrage at Yang’s escape. Another few seconds and the Birdman would have crushed the life from Jack’s Narmacil. Fearing he had extinguished the candle too late, drove Jack almost to the point of calling out Yang’s name. Without light, he had no way of knowing if Yang lived. Rubbing his stomach gave no clue as to the Narmacil’s condition. By lighting the lantern he would land Yang back in trouble - he could not risk the Birdman getting another hold on Yang. 

Stumbling against the cot, the Birdman revived the baby Narmacil’s cries. Instinct led Jack to the boarded up window. Paradoxically he stood in pitch darkness while a few feet from him blazed a hot sun. Reaching up he discovered square-headed nails held the wooden barrier fast against the wall. To allow sunlight into the room he would require a crowbar. Alone in the dark he wanted to join his own cry to that of the baby. The Birdman was closer. A quiet shuffle, reminding him of someone shrugging on a heavy coat, took the place of the man’s wails. Jack preferred the outraged cries to the closing furtive movement. No need to pierce the dark to know the Birdman sought him with animal cunning. Without doubt, one large hand, with hair sprouting from pale knuckles, reached toward the corner where he stood. If Knell had allowed Bill to come with him, Black would protect him. He shook his head; this was his fault, no one but him had wanted to come here. This was his problem.

The man’s stench assailed his nostrils as he closed to within a few yards. Trying to remember the layout of the room, conjured an image of the cot, an armchair, and a table. Dropping to a crouch, seconds ahead of the Birdman lunging forward, saved him from capture. An annoyed grunt from the Birdman provoked a laugh from the crib. 

Keeping low Jack manoeuvred away from the cot and the irate kidnapper. Desperate to keep silent restricted his movements. Hugging the wall, he moved, aware of the killer’s dangerous proximity. Picking up a splinter from the floorboard had him snatch back his hand. Wood bit into the meat of his thumb, tearing from him a murmur of pain. The Birdman’s hands were on him before he had time to pick out the wooden spear. Lifted into the air and pushed against the wall knocked the air from his lungs. Strong hands crushed his thin arms, pinioning them to his side. Imprisoned in the Birdman’s vice-like hold, his defence relied solely on ineffective kicks to the kidnapper’s chest.

‘Leave me go,’ cried Jack, throwing out another kick. ‘Killing Yang has punished me for coming to your damn house.’

‘Shadow man escape,’ moaned the Birdman. ‘He disappear. I know where he is.’

He moved in closer, forcing Jack to straighten his legs. Confined by the mad man’s weight, Jack gagged against the putrescent odour. When he didn’t return, would his friend’s follow him to a similar fate? Ignoring Knell’s command not to pursue him, the Birdman would kill them.

Using his malformed body to imprison Jack against the wall, the Birdman lowered one clammy hand down to the boy’s stomach. ‘I know where he hid.’ Exerting pressure, he made Jack groan in pain.

Gritting his teeth, Jack said, ‘Yang hasn’t done anything to you.’ Becoming used to the dark he could discern the Birdman’s pale body and even the evil leer on his face. Gagging against the Birdman’s stench, he recognised the enjoyment the man got by hurting him. Wanting to throw up he turned his head away from the hissing fetid breath. ‘Leave me go. You won’t ever see me again.’

The Birdman ignored him. ‘I won’ let Shadow Man hide from me.’ A rasp of metal against hardened leather cut through the room.

‘What are you doing?’ said Jack. A moment later, an ice-cold knife pressed into his stomach. Gasping, he flinched back from the weapon. ‘Get it off me!’

‘Tried to cut my curse out,’ whispered the Birdman. ‘Lots of blood, lots of pain. The demon hid deeper.’

Recalling the scars, criss-crossing the Birdman’s stomach, drove Jack insane with fear. Driven crazy by the tortuous sun, the man wanted to cut Yang out of him. The knife was about to open him up like a steaming meat pie pulled apart on a dinner plate.

His high scream drowned out the baby Narmacil, and the Birdman’s mounting excitement. When the knife cut his skin, the shock stopped his screams. Absently he felt a trail of hot blood run down to his leg. The sharp blade, as cold as an icicle, cut him without effort.

‘Cut your curse out,’ said the Birdman.

‘No.’ Jack tossed his head to the side. ‘You cannot take Yang from me, he is part of me; he is my friend.’

‘Demon inside curse you,’ said the Birdman. ‘Keep you from sun. Live in cave.’

‘You’re wrong; the Narmacil isn’t what makes the sun hurt you. You have a terrible disease that has nothing to do with the Narmacil.’

‘I help you. You’ll be free, no more demon. I cut out, no scared anymore.’

Jack howled as the knife bit deeper. ‘Yang!’

The Birdman’s grin spread as he turned the knife, readying to deal a savage cut. ‘Demon die. Will drag it out and sta...’ His words faltered, as did his smile, as the hand holding the knife withdrew. Incredulous, the big man wrestled with the blade; fear rushed into his eyes. The pressure holding Jack tight against the wall eased as something grabbed a hold of the Birdman.

Coughing, Jack fell to the ground. Relief washed over him when he discovered only a single shallow cut along his stomach. Looking up he saw the Birdman struggle in the dark. The bloodied knife lay on the floor.

‘Shadow man,’ shouted the Birdman. ‘I found you.’ An instant later, before his exuberance had time to die, a loud crack resonated through the room. Howling in pain, the Birdman cradled his arm. ‘Kill you!’ Ignoring his pain, the Birdman rushed his invisible assailant. Unable to locate his attacker, the Birdman’s headlong attack soon faltered, and then, as something took hold of him, he sped from view.

Wincing, Jack covered his ears, when a terrific clap of bone against plaster reverberated from the far wall. Snapping bone punctuated each scream from across the room. What happened a few feet from him in the dark was something he never wished to see. Getting to his feet, he took a few unsteady steps toward the cot. He lowered an arm to locate the crib just as the screams in the corner came to an abrupt and final end.

‘It’s alright, I’ve got you,’ said Jack, lifting the baby Narmacil from the dirty sheets. Its rough skin was searing hot. Adjusting himself so he could carry the baby in one hand, he moved back to the corner where the Birdman had held him and located the dropped silver lantern. ‘I think I’ll light this when we’re out of the room.’

With the baby nuzzling against his chest, he hurriedly passed the cot. When his foot skidded on a wet patch, he expected to fall. Surmising that spilt blood drenched the floor carried him quickly through the darkness. Hitting the table with his hip saved him from crashing to the ground. The metallic smell of blood filled the room. Though shallow, the cut on his stomach, bled profusely, so he couldn’t tell whether the room reeked of his blood or whether it mingled with that of the Birdman to create a heady perfume. Thankfully, darkness hid the far corner.

The baby giggled against him. Had she assaulted the kidnapper? Each Narmacil had a unique power. Could the baby have used its Talent to overpower and kill the Birdman? Shivering, he stepped into the corridor, and refused to strike a match until he had reached the tunnel entrance.

Yellow flame flaring to life from the sulphur head illuminated his shadow. Lifting his arm had a corresponding effect on his outline. Scared, he kicked a stone, which clanged against the brick under his shade, and still Yang showed no sign that he was with him. ‘Come on Yang, you can’t be dead.’ He spoke the words low, afraid to voice his prayer, in case he would curse himself. ‘I am so sorry for everything I have said and done. Show me a sign; not knowing is driving me crazy.’ Ignoring the tears streaming down his cheeks, he lit the candlewick. ‘Say something,’ he urged. Despair pulled at him like a strong current until his hope died. When Yang waved, he laughed in relief.

‘You had me scared there,’ he said.

‘You didn’t think I’d leave Yin,’ replied his shadow.

‘I thought the Birdman had killed you. I was sure I had hesitated too long before blowing out the light.’

In the purple light Yang took on Jack’s form. With hands on hips, the shadow breathed hard. ‘Any longer and he would have choked the life out of me. As it was, it took me a long time to recover from the attack. I’m sorry you had to wait for my help.’

Confused, Jack looked into the room where the cot still rocked from side to side. His bloodied footprints led across the floor from a spreading pool of blood. ‘Did you kill him?’

Yang hung his head. ‘I couldn’t let him stab you. When I regained my strength, I pulled him away. I knew if I didn’t kill him he would keep on coming and wouldn’t stop until he had murdered us all.’

‘But without light,’ said Jack, ‘the room was in pitch black.’

Yang gave a wan smile. ‘Paige had it wrong. She didn’t need a burning candle to keep me close. I never left her side, nor do I disappear when you fall asleep. Although you cannot see me, I always watch out for you Jack.’

‘I suspected,’ said Jack, ‘ though I couldn’t be sure.’

‘Light imprisons me,’ said Yang, pointing at the lantern. ‘I alter my shape by bending the laws that govern other shadows. I cheat those laws only so far, the light paints a definite boundary. Without this constraint I take on no form, I am everywhere and everything, and yet that lack of form makes it hard for me to control things.’

‘How come?’ asked Jack. ‘If the darkness makes you more powerful you should be able to do anything you want.’

Yang shook his head. ‘How can I move things without hands to move them?’

‘But you pulled the Birdman off me?’

‘Only with great effort. The light gives me shape, without that source I have to use my mind to coalesce. Hands afford incredible degrees of manipulation. With them, I can pick petals from a rose or hit a punch bag. That is not how the mind works. I cannot do delicate things in the dark; it is like using a hammer to wash a cup. Every time you blow out the candle for the night, I stay still, terrified of losing control and hurting you. Unable to sleep, I remain motionless, waiting for dawn to give me form. After losing me, I knew the Birdman would kill you; he left me with no choice. You have no idea how relieved I am that I did not hurt you.’

They moved down the tunnel, both desperate to leave behind the bloodied room. Without the threat of the Birdman, the tunnel felt shorter to Jack. He passed the stone outcrop where Yang had first spoken a short time ago; then he had seen his shadow as a threat, an alien entity hiding nefarious secrets, now as he passed the same stretch of ground he looked at his shadow as a friend, as a brother. How could he have mistrusted Yang for so long? All his life Yang was someone he had trusted. No one was closer to him than his shadow, not even his mother could hope to know him as well as Yang.

‘I’m sorry.’ The apology was inadequate, and he knew it. Embarrassed, he waited for Yang to respond.

Yang studied him for a long time. A smile formed and he slapped Jack on the back. ‘I’ll tell you one day about Tom. I never thought anyone could distrust me more than that boy, but you gave him a run for his money.’

The sunlight shining into the tunnel from the opening in the garden lifted Jack’s spirits. It painted the tunnel a light blue, diffusing the purple light spilling from the lantern.

‘This won’t be much use out there.’ Jack held aloft the lantern.

Yang nodded. ‘It was a pleasure to speak with you. Knowing lights like this exist has opened up so many possibilities for me, for us to explore. Using the candle, we can talk to one another so there will no longer be any secrets between us. Coming here and making this discovery has opened up a whole new world for me.’

Reaching out, Jack placed his hand on Yang’s shoulder. His shadow still felt cold, only this time the touch warmed him. ‘Next time I try to pat you on the back my hand will slip right through you.’