Shades (12 page)

He stared directly at the blurred area and let his eyes un-focus. It was harder than the book had made it sound. He kept going cross-eyed in the attempt. Behind him, Gustav continued chanting softly, ignoring him. Danny tried again, seeing everything and nothing. His vision blurred again and then—

—swam into focus. The hidden object appeared.

A Brackard’s Point police car.

“Hey, Gustav, did you know there’s a—”

“Nyet,” the old man barked. “Ten more seconds.”

Danny sighed in frustration, and held his tongue.

Finally, Gustav turned around to face him. The old man tried to smile, but faltered. The smoke and flames inside the grill died down, but the stench still filled the air. Danny stared at the grill, and then his mentor. He gasped, noticing that Gustav’s hands were bloody. The old man picked up a roll of paper towels and a bottle of degreaser that had been left beside the grill and proceeded to clean them. As he scrubbed his hands, he looked up at Danny.

“Now, you had questions, yes?”

“You’re damn right I have questions. One, where’s my Mom? Two, is that blood on your hands? Three, what’s in the grill? Dinner? Because if it is; then it smells horrible. Four, do you realize there’s a cop car back there?”

“Yes.” Gustav nodded his head. “Yes, yes, and yes. Your mother is not here. Yes, this is blood. No, is not dinner on grill. Is very old magic. Make fire hot enough to burn meat and bone and teeth to ash very, very quickly. I think you do not want to eat what I’m cooking. And yes, that is a police car. It is our ride later on tonight.”

Danny barely heard any of it. “What do you mean she’s not here?
Where’s my Mom
?”

Gustav lifted the hot barbeque lid and dropped the bloody paper towels inside it. Danny saw a mound of ash inside, and wondered what it was. Then Gustav closed the lid and stepped towards Danny. His expression was solemn, and when he answered, his voice was low and mournful.

“Bedrik has her.”

Danny tried to speak, and couldn’t. The yard seemed to spin. Swooning, he reached out and grabbed the fence to steady himself. When Gustav spoke again, the old man’s voice sounded like he was far away.

“He sent his shades. I fought two of them. A third took your mother. But I know where she is, yes? We will get her back. Will get him, too.”

Danny shook his head. His ears rang and his knees felt weak.

“You said you’d protect her…”

“I did.” Gustav’s tone was sad. “And I am sorry, Danny. I did my best. But it was three against one, and I am an old man. I think I do good, despite the odds.”

“Do good?” Danny let go of the fence and lurched unsteadily towards him. “Good? That crazy fucker kidnapped my mother. How did you do good?”

“I dispatched two of his shades. Bedrik looses power, yes? And I know where he has taken her. To the cemetery. We will meet him there. We will finish this, and rescue your mother.”

“How? If you weren’t strong enough to take on three shades at once, then how are we going to fight him? He’ll probably have a whole army up there with him.”

Gustav stroked his beard. “He may. But I have tricks up my sleeve, too. And I have you. We go together, yes?”

Danny nodded.

“But first,” Gustav turned back to the house, “we rest. You expended power on the way here. I know. I felt it. I did, too. Both of us rest and then we go.”

“Rest? We’ve got to go now!”

“No. Midnight. Those are his terms. He has chosen the location and the time. We must adhere. If we go before, he might hurt your mother. We need to be strong first. And I still need to finish cleaning up, yes?”

Danny stared at the old Russian’s hands. “Looks like you got all the blood off.”

“Yes,” Gustav agreed. Then he bent over and rummaged through a plastic garbage bag. He held up two police uniforms, along with underwear and socks. “But have not taken care of these yet.”

“Where did you get—never mind. I don’t want to know.”

“Da, you do not.”

Shaking his head, Danny went back inside the house and tried to rest. He didn’t think midnight would ever arrive.

But it did.

Before they left, Gustav slipped a salt shaker into his pocket and insisted that Danny do the same. He did not explain why.

They climbed into the abandoned police car. Gustav drove. Danny stared out the window and watched the town pass by. He thought of Ronnie and Jeremy. Chuck and Matt. Val and the other kids at school. His friends from the Hill. The assholes from Snowdrop. Everyone in between. He thought of his mother, and of his father, and wished that his Dad was here now. But he wasn’t. In the end, this place had killed him. Now it would probably kill Danny, too. He’d always hated Brackard’s Point. Had always wanted to leave. For all he knew, he might very well be doing just that tonight. Leaving. There were no guarantees that they’d return from Gethsemane. This could be his last look. Danny shivered, afraid. Gustav turned on the heater. Hot air blew gently across their feet.

They drove in silence. Soon, Danny felt better. He reminded himself that with Gustav at his side, there wasn’t anything to be afraid of. Gustav was his friend. Gustav cared. Gustav would protect him and his mother—protect them all.

“Everything’s going to be okay, right?”

“Da. You will see. Everything will be just fine. Soon, we all be back to normal.”

789

A few minutes later, after they’d grown quiet again, Gustav glanced over at Danny and gave him a reassuring smile. Then he looked into the rearview mirror. He kept his expression neutral, careful not to give anything away. The road and the town were lost beneath a sea of black. The darkness was following them, flowing after the car like a wave, just as he’d hoped it would.

The darkness wore the face of a dead man.

ELEVEN

Bedrik
knelt in the center of the graveyard, carefully scrawling marks into the ground at his feet. He took caution to make sure that they were correct, every nuance and curve, every line and squiggle. He disliked this part, using his hands. He much preferred to have his minions do the grunt work. He favored magic through concentration, cause and effect through mental strength rather than physical. But sometimes, a magus had to get their hands dirty—or bloody. Or both. Like cutting up sweet Dana in his basement; or what he was doing now—scratching symbols of protection into the soil.

The sky promised more rain. Thick clouds covered the moon. He’d need light for what was about to occur, so he’d once again summoned the lightning bugs—calling them in from far away. Had there been any pedestrians on the street, and they happened to look towards Gethsemane, they’d have thought it was snowing insects. Thousands of fireflies descended on the cemetery, blanketing the treetops with their mass. Now, dazzling balls of luminous green-yellow light hovered over the graves.

Finished with the last symbol, Bedrik stood. He brushed the dirt from his hands and looked at the designs, nodding with satisfaction. Only three people in town would be able to see them—him, and the two who were on their way. Bedrik raised his head, feeling the breeze. He felt them drawing nearer. Felt the boy’s anger and the old man’s apprehension.

He turned to his subordinates, the former Sam Oberman and Tony Amiratti Junior. They stood next to an old, moss-covered crypt, the white stone graying with age and pitted from exposure to the elements. The boy’s mother was tied to the stone with black silk ropes. The silk was a crucial element—a requirement, as was its color. She was naked, her mouth gagged, eyes blindfolded with another swath of silk.

“Mr. Rammel,” he said to Amiratti, “when they arrive, you will stand by the woman. You will not act unless I command you to, and then you will act swiftly. If I tell you to do it, you will pick up that onyx blade and cut her throat.”

“Got it,” Edward replied. “You want I should call some of Amiratti’s men and have them on standby, too?”

“No need,” Bedrik said. “However, have you noticed that your speech patterns are becoming more and more like Tony’s?”

Rammel shrugged. “I’ve been practicing.”

“Very good.”

“What about me, master?” Oberman stepped forward. “What will I be doing?”

“You, my friend, will play a very important role. Come here. I’ll whisper it to you.”

The possessed night watchman walked towards him. Bedrik pulled him close. As Oberman leaned in, Bedrik flattened his fingers and hand like a knife blade and thrust it into the man’s chest. Fingertips parted flesh like butter, cleaving bone and muscle and ripping through the soft organs inside. The shade inside Oberman—Thomas Church, the drunk driver—screamed as it oozed out of the shredded corpse. Bedrik sucked the spirit into himself, breathing it in through his mouth and nose like it was fog.

He wiped his bloodied hand on the wet grass and sighed with satisfaction. Then he looked at Rammel and grinned.

“I needed that. I’m tired. It’s been a very long day.”

“Couldn’t you have just had a cup of coffee?”

Bedrik laughed. “Indeed. The effect is quite similar.”

“Won’t you need Oberman to keep people away from the cemetery?”

Bedrik shook his head, gazing down the hill at the sleeping town. “No more. After tonight, I’ll be done with the cemetery. All those names I recited earlier? Those are the remaining inhabitants. Every soul that is buried here. I’ve summoned them all. They merely await Gustav’s arrival, as do we.”

Rammel pointed to the entrance. Car headlights bloomed in the distance.

“Doesn’t look like we’ll have to wait much longer.”

“Good,” Bedrik said. “Now remember, stay beside the woman. And most importantly, whatever you do, don’t break the circle. Your shade can traverse it, but if your physical form breaks it—even an inch, even just your toe—we will lose this game.”

“No sweat,” Rammel said. “I got it.”

“Do not forget who you’re speaking to, Edward. You may inhabit the body of that Mafioso, but I know your true name. I can send you back at any time. Show a little respect.”

“I’m sorry,” Rammel groveled. “Seriously, Master. I’m really sorry. Please forgive me.”

Bedrik smiled. How quickly the dead man returned to his own mannerisms, rather than those of his assumed identity.

They fell silent and waited.

789

Gustav stopped the police car and turned the engine off. His hands hovered over the steering wheel, and for a moment, Danny thought he saw them shaking. Then the old man sat up straight and pulled the keys out of the ignition. He smiled and gently patted Danny’s leg.

“Let us go.”

“Shouldn’t we wipe off our fingerprints or something?”

“Nyet. When we are finished here, we will take care of car.”

“But…”

Gustav looked at him expectantly. “But what?”

“But what if we don’t make it back.”

Gustav shrugged. “Then it doesn’t matter if they find our fingerprints, no?”

He opened the door and got out of the car. After a moment, Danny followed. The graveyard was silent. No owls or birds, not even a whippoorwill. Even the wind had ceased. Overhead, the sky threatened rain, yet no showers fell. No lightning flashed, and the moon was a dull, silver halo. Despite this, there was light—too much light. Gethsemane glowed with will-o-wisps. Hundreds of phosphorescent balls floated over the graves, turning night to day.

“What are they?” Danny whispered.

“Ghost lanterns,” Gustav said. “Bugs.”

“Gross.”

“Yes. But he needs them.”

“For what?”

“The shades of the dead, they are like shadows. They need light. He is making sure they have it.”

They started down the path. Gustav warned Danny to stay behind him at all times, and to not speak to Bedrik, even if the man spoke to him. “Say nothing. Only watch.”

“But how am I gonna help if I’m just watching?”

“You will help. You will see.”

“What about my Mom?”

“He will have her protected in circle. Cannot break the boundaries. Do not approach her, no matter what. Not until I say. You do, and she will die. You understand, yes? Like in the books?”

Danny nodded.

“Good.”

Gustav pulled the salt shaker from his pocket and sprinkled some on his hands. He had Danny do the same, and then advised him to save the rest.

They continued down the path, passing tombstones on each side of them. Gustav glanced over his shoulder once, but when Danny looked behind them, all he saw was darkness. Even the police car was gone now, swallowed up by the night.

He was familiar with Gethsemane. He’d goofed around here before with Ronnie, Chuck, Jeremy and Matt—sharing an Old Milwaukee they’d stolen from one of the older kids or smoking cigarettes and looking at the stars. But somehow, it all seemed different now. There was nothing reassuring or familiar. Shadows loomed everywhere, and when he looked straight ahead, Danny was sure he saw them moving out of the corner of his eye. When he’d look, they stopped.

“No,” Gustav muttered. “Your eyes do not deceive you. The dead have come out to welcome us.”

“Can they…” Danny swallowed. “Will they attack?”

“Nyet. Not yet. They will wait.”

“For what?”

Gustav pointed. “For him.”

Ahead of them was Mr. Bedrik, dressed as if for school in a dark suit and tie, and a long, executive-style overcoat. Another man stood near him, someone Danny didn’t recognize. But he recognized the woman lying next to the man. His eyes widened. He stopped walking and curled his fists.

“Mom!”

“Stop,” Gustav hissed. “Remember what I said. Is important. You say nothing, do nothing. Must control your power, not waste it.”

“Fuck that.”

Danny didn’t walk towards the teacher. He stormed. With every step he took, the anger inside of him grew brighter, a smoldering ember that soon blazed as bright as the lightning bugs all around them. Gustav reached for him, but Danny was quicker. Energy leaked from him, marking his path. Each footstep wilted the grass overtop the graves, or weakened the asphalt path as if a giant had stepped there. The leaves fell from the trees.

“Boy,” Gustav yelled, “Get back here. You must conserve your power.”

Ignoring him, Danny continued on his way, feeling the power swell inside of him with each step. His rage grew hotter, more focused with every breath he took. The sight of his mother lying naked and helpless on a stone crypt, the memories of Matt exploding, of the look in Val’s eyes—all of it was fuel for the fire. His fury was a blind, living thing inside of him, a monstrous, cancerous creature that knew no boundaries.

“Hello, Danny,” Bedrik called, his tone friendly. “You’re out awfully late for a school night.” he looked over the boy’s shoulder. “Gustav, you really should be more prudent with your young apprentice.”

Danny didn’t respond. Not because he remembered Gustav’s instructions, but because his rage had muted him. He stepped closer and saw a white circle of powder surrounding Bedrik, the other man, and his mother. Mystic sigils glowed in the firefly light. More lines were written into the trees, and the headstones that surrounded them. He noticed something else, too—and it filled him with dread. Danny knew where they were. He recognized this portion of the cemetery. Recognized the tombstone Mr. Bedrik was leaning against.

It was his father’s grave.

“Yes, Danny.” Bedrik smiled. “It’s a family reunion. You. Your mother. And even your dear, sweet, departed daddy. Come say hello.”

“Enough.” Gustav pushed past Danny and approached the edge of the circle. “Boy is not part of this. It is you and me, Bedrik.”

Bedrik laughed. “Oh, Gustav, you’ve watched too many American movies. Who do you think you are, Chuck Norris? Clint Eastwood? The boy is a part of this. His family, too. They all are.” He gestured towards the town. “All of them, every man, woman and child, alive or dead. They belong to me.”

“Nyet. I will not allow it.”

“You have no choice.”

While the two men faced off, the energies inside Danny built to a crescendo. He closed his eyes and pushed, visualizing Mr. Bedrik flying backwards through the air, as if he’d been struck by a giant, invisible hand. The magic leapt from his body and raced towards the teacher.

“No,” Gustav cried.

Bedrik did not move. He simply smiled.

The wave reached the circle, crashed against the barrier and flowed back to its source, knocking Danny to the ground. When he was younger, Danny had once licked a nine volt battery on a dare from Chuck. He remembered how the charge had tingled his tongue. That was his only run-in with an electrical shock until now. The sensation that now coursed through his body was like that, but a thousand times worse. It felt like ants were crawling under his skin and spreading through his muscles, eating everything inside of him as they advanced. He tried to scream but nothing came out. He struggled to his feet, and glanced at Gustav. The old man was chanting something. His eyes had rolled up into the back of his head.

“Stay,” Bedrik whispered, making a motion with his hand.

Danny tried to step towards Gustav and found that he couldn’t. He grabbed his leg with both hands and tried to move his foot but it was stuck firmly, as if he’d stepped in cement.

“Gustav,” he shouted. “Do something!”

His teacher didn’t respond. He seemed oblivious, lost in a trance.

Bedrik shook his head. “He can’t hear you, Danny. He won’t be able to for another thirty seconds or so. It’s a very old spell, one I have no defense against. However, I don’t intend to let him finish it.”

“Let me go!”

“Oh, I can’t do that Danny. I wish I could because I genuinely like you, but I have things to do and you’re the solution I’ve been looking for.”

“What do you mean?” His heart was racing; his eyes frightened.

“I can control this town on my own. But to expand my boundaries, I’ll need more power. I’m going to take it from you.” He made a slapping motion in the air, as if striking the boy. Danny’s feet finally left the ground as he was knocked backward.

The man standing over his mother laughed. Danny wondered again who he was. Another possessed person, like Matt? An empty shell inhabited by a dead person? He didn’t know, but that didn’t stop him from hating the stranger, too. Danny stood up, but once again his feet were paralyzed.

“Do you like being helpless, Danny?” Bedrik snarled. “Of course you don’t. No one does. That’s what all the markings are about, you know. I’ve seen what you’re capable of and I couldn’t take any risks. But enough of this. Your mentor is almost finished; just one more stanza to go. I can’t allow that.”