Chad A. Clark's Blog, page 11
October 27, 2016
Why I’m Not Walking
In Defense of Baseball Bats and Barbed Wire
So unless you’ve fallen off a truck recently, hit your head, lapsed into a coma and switched bodies with a dog’s chew toy, you’re probably aware that the Walking Dead finally aired it’s long awaited season premiere this past Sunday. And there has been quite an issue raised by some, especially on social media, regarding the content of the show and the brutality of what we saw there.
Since horror is where I live in the narrative sense, I wanted to share some thoughts on this. I’m not going to get into the specifics of the episode – this will be a spoiler free discussion and I would ask that if anyone leaves a comment, please respect that. I realize at this point that most people know who died, I even saw an image of a newspaper obituary for the character. Still, my default position is always to respect the experience of the viewer, to not risk taking away what I got to enjoy.
First of all, I want to make it clear that in no way do I think less of anyone who might be put off by the content of the show. I get it. The scene was very disturbing and difficult to watch, even if you didn’t have an attachment to the characters.
I also agree that the Walking Dead is not perfect as a show. Like any other series, it has its high and low points. While I appreciate that a major premise of the comics is that people can be just as bad, or even worse than the monsters, I kind of wish the zombies would start to get a bigger role in the stories. Ever since the introduction of the Governor, I think the show has been stuck in a cycle of atrocity – retribution, and I wouldn’t mind seeing a new direction. It doesn’t have to only be about the slow burn up to the horrible tragedy that our heroes must avenge, often in an equally depraved fashion.
But for as much as I think the show has done wrong over the last few years, this is one example of something they did right. Was it brutal? Yes, of course. But it was a brutality that perfectly mirrored the original story of the source material.
And yes, I realize that the show has strayed from the continuity of the comics on more than one occasion, to the point of even inventing characters that never exists originally. But this introduction of the character of Negan was one of the most iconic moments of the comics. To make the Walking Dead and not do this scene would be like doing Game Of Thrones without doing the Red Wedding.
Taking a show that has gone somewhat stale and turning things around requires a dramatic break from the formula, from the structure of what the viewers find familiar. This premiere for the Walking Dead accomplishes that, by brutally taking away something we love. This is horror. And in horror sometimes, things happen that challenge us. Horror isn’t always easy. But I think it’s usually a pretty honest reflection of our humanity. Horror isn’t about making you safe or virtuous. Horror is about making you think. It’s about making you feel.
I’ve seen the phrase “torture porn” thrown around a lot this week and I don’t necessarily want to definitively say that the Walking Dead is or isn’t torture porn as that is extremely subjective. Speaking for myself, while I can see that much of the violence could be described as gratuitous, I think that the fact that the show does so well with character development gives the overall experience enough substance that I’m willing to overlook other lapses. Also, this is a brutal, bleak world these characters live in. To not put that on display would be, in my opinion, dishonest and inauthentic.
So while I feel bad if this recent show bothered you, I think that the show itself is only guilty of doing what it has done from day one. I think the name of the show alone should be indicative enough to make people realize that there are occasionally going to be moments that are emotionally challenging and violent.
And not for nothing, but I don’t think anyone who tuned into the premiere could have been surprised by what they saw. This moment has been hyped by AMC and social media for months, ever since the season finale from this past spring. How many ridiculous posts and articles have you had to read, hyper-dissecting the order in which everyone was lined up and where the trees were in relation to Negan and who he might have been standing in front of?
Most of us knew this was coming.
So if the Walking Dead isn’t your thing, that’s okay. Like I said, I understand why people could be sickened to the point of not wanting to watch the show. anymore. Fortunately, the solution is simple.
Just don’t watch it.
And I don’t mean that to sound flippant or dismissive. Just that your departure from the show or your choice not to watch doesn’t need to be heralded by trumpets sounding or great fanfare. I only mean that we live in an era with an unprecedented number of options for entertainment. From the confines of your home, you can watch movies, with nearly unlimited options. You can read books (hint, hint) or look at art. You can watch videos about cats or traveling or cooking. You can learn how to play chess or paint. You can listen to, or record music You can watch full seasons of television shows that even predate Netflix and Amazon.
There’s plenty out there for you.
And while I’m on the subject, I also wanted to address those out there trying to defend the show. Take it easy folks, okay? You also don’t contribute anything to the discussion when you dismiss people by calling them pussies or babies or delicate flowers. Not when their only offense is to be a human being who is affected by seeing a person’s skull bashed in on a television show.
The playground of popular entertainment is massive. There are shows designed for users of all kinds of temperament and sensibilities. You don’t need anyone’s permission to watch the shows you want and likewise, you shouldn’t feel like you’re some kind of a gatekeeper, evaluating the quality of people’s character, based on the content they take in. There’s enough space and enough options that we should all be able to get along.
Just don’t shit in the sandbox.
October 25, 2016
Issue #172 : Shifting Perspectives
Richard leaned back in the chair and put a warm cloth on his forehead.
“So what are we dealing with here?” he asked. “The crucifix didn’t work. The silver didn’t work. Evidently the origin flames don’t work either. Knives and fire don’t work. What are we dealing with?”
Jacob shifted in his chair. “Well, wherever this vampire came from, we don’t—”
“It isn’t a vampire.”
“What?”
“This isn’t a vampire. I’ve seen some variations from the original strain before, but nothing like this. Whatever we’re hunting, whatever is hunting us, I’ve never seen the likes of it before.”
“Brett, are you there?” Jacob called out.
The open laptop sprung to life and the Internet browser opened into a generic dialogue box.
I’m here. Have you found anything out?
“No, we’re still talking this over. Have you had time to check out the church? If this isn’t a vampire we’re looking for? That could explain why it would be able to hide out on sacred ground.”
I was there just before I came here. There’ s no one there. The building looks all boarded up so it must be abandoned.
“And you’re positive that he was there?” Richard asked, joining in on the conversation.
I told you, I knew exactly where he was, I was able to track him until now.
“Why not now?” Jacob asked.
His coat was where I planted the tracking loop and it was destroyed in the fire. I have no idea where he is now.
“So what do we do?” Jacob asked, turning back to Richard.
“There’s only one thing we can do,” Richard remarked. “There’s no way we’ll be able to find anything concrete about this thing. We have to draw it out and have faith that in the moment, we’ll figure out what we need to do in order to bring it down.”
“Do you really think that’s going to happen?”
Richard shook his head. “I have no idea. Frankly, I’d probably give us slightly lower than even odds. It’s troubling that he’s impervious to origin flames. I’ve never seen that before and I only have one option that is more powerful than that.” He glanced at the case at his feet, the case that almost never left his sight. Staring at the digital keypad, he reached down to start entering the code for entry. Jacob lunged forward and grabbed his arm.
“We aren’t ready for that yet.”
Richard looked up and met his friend’s gaze. “Ready or no, this is the only option remaining to us. We’ll take this with us and head for the church. My suspicions are that this thing will find us there in due course. Brett, we’ll need you to be nearby.”
Take the laptop with you and make sure you take the mobile hot spot as well. Just leave me in a corner and I’ll help however I can.
Jacob reached down and closed the computer, tucking it under his arm as Richard took the elongated dagger from the case, inserting it carefully into the sheath under his trench coat.
“I’ve never actually seen it before,” Jacob said as Richard tied his coat shut.
“Few have. Only the highest members of the order have ever been allowed to carry it. A weapon forged from the bones of Adam and Eve comes at a high price and its value cannot be stated highly enough. Its worth to us is clear, however. If it fails to kill this beast, our lives will be the price we pay for the miscalculation. We have never had a subject as dangerous as this. See to it that you don’t forget that.”
Jacob nodded and they left the hotel room, not bothering to close the door behind them as they stepped into Richard’s car under the newly sprinkling rain.
“How far away is the church?” Richard asked as he eased out into traffic.
“From where we are it’s about fifteen miles. Take route ten to the south and it gets us most of the way there. Just watch for the exit sign with all the ads on it wiped clean.”
Richlard glanced over at him in question.
“The town isn’t really there anymore. Just a few families still hanging on. Most of the area around there was appropriated for commercial development that’s still pending.”
They drove on in silence, taking what comfort they could from the sound of the rain falling above them. Richard tried to clear his mind, to not think of these as their last waning moments before a crushing and painful end.
The church looked like it had no right being in one piece and for a moment, Richard thought that it was actually swaying in the breeze. As they stepped out, just over the rain, they could hear the sound of wood struggling under stress. It reminded him of the months he had spent in the bowels of various trans-Atlantic sailing vessels, trying to avoid detection by the crew. It brought to mind the thought, and not for the first time that this was somehow more personal than just one random monster taking on a grudge for them. He was starting to think that he had encountered this thing at some point and was forgetting the proper context.
If that was the case however, things would be made clear in due course. All that was left was to move forward and hope that they could hold true, finding victory somehow piled underneath the steaming mass of defeat.
Richard had seen churches of all shapes and sizes, going back hundreds of years. As he stepped into this one, all he could feel was the weight of life which had passed through and ended in this place. The building felt dead to him, frail remnants of life, scattered and left behind.
Jacob placed the computer in the corner and opened it. Returning to join Richard at the center of the room, he checked to make sure his time-piece was where he would need it. A cool breeze flowed past them and for a brief moment, Richard saw his own breath coming out of in spurts of mist. He sneaked his fingers into his shirt, seeking out the handle of the knife in this, the most crucial of moments.
The doors and most of the wall around them splintered as it exploded inward. Their attacker strode in slowly, arms held out, electricity and wisps of flame crackling from its fingers.
This time, it would be for real.
October 22, 2016
Baked Scribe Flashback : Ittan Momen
Lillith hadn’t paid the thing any mind at first, just a piece of stray laundry, caught in the breeze that was floating her way. It looked like an elongated sheet, maybe a runner for an end table, something that had pulled free from the line it had been drying on.
The thought that froze her in her tracks was when it occurred to her that the sheet was floating against the wind.
She spun back around as the sound of rustling fabric behind her, and she was immediately wrapped up in a flurry of white.
As she threw her arms up to try and clear the thing away, she was lifted partially off the ground and spun around several times, until her head started to swim. Her arms dropped back down to their sides, and the thing quickly wrapped around, pinning them to her body while throwing her roughly to the ground. It was almost funny to think what this must look like to a passer-by, to see her writhing around hopelessly inside of someone’s lost bed linens.
Except that it wasn’t a sheet.
It had looked like white cotton as it flitted about through the air, but as it pulled tighter around her, it felt like flesh. She tried to rip through it with her nails, but couldn’t come even close to breaking through. She tried to scream out for help, but could no longer draw in enough breath to do so. The absurdity of the situation as she toppled over backwards was infuriating. Her legs were now fully tangled up in the thing as it seemed to have unlimited length. All she could feel was the mounting pressure around her body.
Every part of her was now covered, save for her face. She thought that she could hear whispers, spoken softly in her ear in a language that she could not understand. Then, the thing moved up and around her eyes, obscuring the world around her in a translucent fog of white. It continued wrapping around, covering her nose, and now forcing its way into her mouth, down her throat. In that final moment, her last thoughts were of struggling in vain for air that she would never taste again.
October 21, 2016
Baked Scribe Flashback : Headless
The screaming of the motorcycle as it raced past the house had been keeping him up all night, every night this week. He didn’t know who in the neighborhood was going through the mid-life crisis, but he was ready for it to stop. It was getting so pervasive in his subconscious that he was noticing motorcycles everywhere. Several times on the way home in early evening traffic, he would spot a lone headlight in his mirror, rushing up on him as if on a collision course. Something else would distract him, and when he looked back, nothing would be there. At work, he would doze off in his cubicle and snap back awake, certain that he had just heard the din of an engine.
Besides the racket at night, he had also been having horrible nightmares. He woke up with images of dark, hulking forms riding down on him, sometimes wielding a human spinal cord as if it were a whip. He might have to break down and see the doctor for a prescription. He needed his sleep.
It was in this half-dazed, half-asleep state that he found himself strolling down the street for a late night walk when he heard the motorcycle again. The sound had become so frequent for him that he barely noticed it, even though it sounded like it was bearing down, directly onto him. He turned, with just enough time to take in the spectral shape standing atop the giant black motorcycle. The towering creature looked down at him as the cycle approached, or at least that’s what he thought it was doing.
There was no head.
He was only vaguely aware of standing there, mouth hanging open as the cycle jumped the curb and raced down the sidewalk at him. The figure bent down as it approached, clutching a severed head in one hand while the other gripped the hilt of a sword, drawing back to strike. The instinct to run came to him, far too late. As he turned to run, he felt a dull, but heavy impact. He fell to the ground, watching from another, diminishing universe as his own headless corpse collapsed onto the grass next to him.
October 20, 2016
Tracing The Trails Of The King : The Eyes Of The Dragon
home. The new digs are one mere click away though so I hope you will continue to follow along. My latest review of The Eyes Of The Dragon can be found by clicking here. And if you follow the new blog, you will be sure to get notifications of new posts. On Halloween, I will be posting the next review, my thoughts on The Drawing Of The Three.Thanks for visiting!
October 18, 2016
Issue #171 : Lessons Learned
This is the second installment in a five part story. If you haven’t yet read the first part, click here to go there now. Enjoy!
“I specifically told you not to try anything by yourself.” Richard was coming as close to shouting as Brett had ever heard, pacing back and forth around the playground equipment. Brett shivered and rubbed his arms as he looked at the darkened shape of the school off across the field. “What were you thinking, going after it like that?”
“For the hundredth time, I wasn’t going after it!” Brett protested. “I went down to the crime scene to make sure this was one of the ones you would want to know about. It’s not like I was expecting the thing to engage me like that.”
“You don’t—” Richard stopped at the feel of Jacob’s hand on his elbow.
“Take it easy,” Jacob said. “He has a point. He had no reason to suspect that the subject knew what he looked like, let alone that he would still be at the scene. I think it would be better to focus on what we can do from here.”
“Not much,” Richard responded. “We’re in pretty much the same position as we were before. He isn’t leaving behind enough of a trail for us to follow. And all this one is doing is risking exposing us even further.”
“You know, I was just trying to help,” Jacob pointed out.
“You were doing whatever you wanted, don’t mistake one for the other.”
“Okay. But can you honestly say you expected anything else from me when you guys brought me into your little operation here?”
Richard shook his head, seeming to lose his steam somewhat. “Just remember that when I found you, you were just a little boy chasing down and killing cyber-bullies. No direction or purpose. We are the ones who saved you from that.”
“So do you guys want to know the good news or what?” Brett asked. “I’ve been waiting to tell you when you were done yelling at me but I’m honestly not sure if that’s ever going to happen.”
Richard stopped and turned, anger starting to rise to the surface again. “What are you talking about, that you somehow—”
“I can find out where he is.”
Now Jacob was the one to look impressed. “How?”
Brett shook his head. “I can’t explain it in any way you’d understand. Let’s just say that I inserted some HTML code into the weaving of his jacket. I should be able to track him pretty easily.”
“You could have started off with that information,” Richard snapped at him, although he was clearly losing his steam in the argument.
“Where is it?” Jacob asked, trying to cut off another resurgence of the bickering.
“Actually, not far from here,” Brett answered. “Hiding out in an abandoned church a few miles to the south.”
“That isn’t possible,” Richard protested. “It shouldn’t be able to cross over the threshold onto hollowed ground.”
“Well, that’s where it is. Maybe the place isn’t sacred anymore or—”
“Once a building or area has been sanctified, that can not be removed. There’s something else going on here.”
“So do you want to hold off then?” Jacob asked. “It could be a trap. This thing does seem to be more powerful than any of the others we’ve had to deal with in the past.”
“We can’t stop,” Richard said. “I’m just pointing out that the odds aren’t exactly in our favor that this thing is actually there. Seems more likely that he just dumped his jacket there. Worst case scenario, we’re dropping into a trap.”
“If you know we’re probably going into a trap, why bother at all?” Jacob asked.
Richard smiled, but the expression did not extend to his eyes. He looked sad as he spoke. “It’s what we do. There isn’t really a choice.”
“Can I—” Brett started.
“No,” Richard cut him off. “I need you to stay back in case something happens, we might need you to create a diversion of some kind. Is there anywhere in the church that you could jump into?”
Brett shook his head. “There are cable lines going into the building but service hasn’t been active for over a year. Nothing I could do with that, even if I wanted to. No other utilities that I might be able to ride in on. The closest I could get would be a gas station down the block. They’re streaming satellite radio and playing it out by the pumps.”
Richard nodded, setting his jaw and reaching for his coat. “The direct approach then.” He nodded at Jacob to follow. “Just drive up to the front door, knock and see who’s—”
He was cut off as a wind buffeted them. A shrieking cry called out from above as a shadow passed over them, swooping down low overhead before diving from the tops of the houses nearby.
“What the hell?” Brett called out.
“It followed you here,” Richard called out. He grabbed Brett by the shoulder and dragged him back towards an equipment shed. “He drew you out into the open, so that he could do the same to you. Stay out of sight as best you can and let us deal with this.”
The thing cried out again as the darkened shape rose up from the street, hovering over them before crashing down in full attack. Richard felt rocks digging into his back as the weight of it crashed down on him, pushing him first to the ground and then partially up into the air. He grabbed in his inside pocket for the crucifix and held it out, pressing it into the thing’s forehead. The grip lessened slightly but the sound that he had taken for cries of pain soon became that of laughter. It grabbed the chain and hurled it towards the school.
As Richard continued to struggle, Jacob darted up from behind and plunged a syringe into the things neck, pressing on the plunger to send the liquid silver-sodium solution straight through the thing’s veins. It dropped Richard and staggered back, shaking its head as if it as choking on something but after a few moments, it simply straightened and began striding towards them.
“Run!” Richard called out as he backed away, hoping that Brett had had enough sense to have gotten clear of the area long before now. Sprinting away from the playground, he sensed that Jacob was also making his way off in another direction. Just on the edge of the school’s property, there was some construction equipment that had been left behind for the weekend as well as some discarded materials. As he passed, the thing landed solidly on his back and took hold of him, lifting him up and as his legs scissored back and forth, seeking purchase, it threw him into the pile. He rolled out of the debris and went to stand, only to be knocked back down again. Sharp pain shot up his arm and he began to wonder if it was already broken. He could see Jacob lying inert on the ground from a distance but could not tell how badly he had been hurt.
Hands stronger than he had ever felt before wrapped around his throat. Light began to flash as he strained to get a breath in. Reaching behind, he produced one of the silver daggers from its concealed sheath and brought it forward, slipping the blade between the things ribs.
Howling, it reared back, pulling the knife out of his hand. It pulled it free and seemed to flex the muscles of its midsection, the metal already starting to smolder and melt as it hurled the weapon away. It clattered to the ground, near to where Jacob lay. Richard produced another blade and threw it. It tumbled through the air, end over end until it buried itself up to the hilt in the thing’s chest. Again the howl of pain and rage as it pulled another knife free and hurled it away, charging at Richard.
Still, it was clearly moving slower as Richard ducked out of the way, diving and rolling as he did so. Grabbing at his ankles, he produced a small vial. He could practically feel the heat from the things breath as it charged, and he threw the vial at its feet.
Blue flame shot up into the air, enveloping the creature as it yelled and twisted within the fire. It lifted up off the ground but before it could get more than a few feet, crashed back down. The flames began to dwindle and Richard picked up the distinctive smell of burned flesh on the air. It staggered up to its knees and moved to stand. As it did so, it began to slow, as if it having trouble finding the strength. It was like watching a video in slow motion.
Richard looked to his right and saw Jacob, half sitting and now with his timepiece held up. The watch wasn’t strong enough to stop the creature completely but it was slowing it down. Richard stood and grabbed the thing, careful to keep his hands clear of the mouth as he dragged it towards the pile of construction equipment and debris. He produced another vial and dropped it onto the thing. As the blue flames shot up in the air and consumed it, he pulled a lighter out of his pocket, lit it and dropped it on to the body as well.
As the flames merged, they began to shift in color until they were raging over six feet high, bright red in color. Richard saw that Jacob had now risen to his feet and Brett had returned, watching the bonfire silently. They stayed that way for at least ten minutes until it had burned down to cinders. Nothing was left of the body, save for a few scraps of singed clothing.
“Is that it?” Brett asked as the other two walked over.
“Seems slightly anti-climatic, doesn’t it?” Richard asked as he ran the toe of his boot through the ashes. He shook his head. “Regardless, we aren’t going to find anything out staring at these scorch marks. If this thing pops up somewhere else, we’ll figure it out later. For now, we need to make ourselves scarce. I’m sure that fire was spotted by someone. Brett, find a server somewhere to hide out in for a while and we’ll be in touch.”
Brett nodded and within a minute had vanished into the data stream. Jacob followed Richard, limping but otherwise okay.
Richard found the note when he stepped into the car. It was pinned to the steering wheel, held in place by one of the twisted, metal blades he had hurled at the thing. From the look on Jacob’s face he already knew what the note was going to say but Richard handed it over anyway, after looking it over himself.
To my new friends.
Thank you for your time.
We will talk again soon.
October 15, 2016
Baked Scribe Flashback : Gorgon
Joey sped up to a jog to keep up with her. She had made blatant eye contact with him at the bar, or at least it had seemed so at the time, since he couldn’t really see her eyes behind the black lenses of her sunglasses. Regardless, he had seen the upturn of those lips, the suggestive nod as she had turned towards the exit.
But now that he had followed her out into the street, she was actually playing hard to get, and that just wasn’t going to fly. He had sacrificed the good money he had spent on that cover charge by following her out here, that was not going to go to waste. Five dollars lost meant that he should get something for his trouble. It was only fair.
He was about to give in, and just call out to her, when he saw a bum come stumbling from around the corner to make a grab at her arm.
“Hey!” he yelled. Maybe he could be the hero and get his foot in the door that way. She clearly didn’t need his help though, as she threw the guy back against the wall like he was nothing. She ripped the sunglasses off, and as they flicked past, he saw a brilliant flash of green light emerge from her eyes, like search-beams. It lit up the alley, and fully illuminated her hair that, in the nightclub, he had taken for tightly coiled locks.
“Holy Jesus,” he muttered at the sight of the snakes, writhing and whipping wildly about her head. The sunglasses returned to their starting position, and she glanced back over her shoulder at him before walking off.
The bum was still standing there against the wall, sort of half leaning over as if he was going to be sick. Joey ran up the guy just to make sure he was all right. He reached out to grab his shoulder, to try and shake him out of his stupor.
“Holy…” He jerked his hand back as if it had been burned. His fingers trembled as he reached out again, brushing the man’s arm which, along with the rest of him had been turned into cool, solid stone.
October 14, 2016
Baked Scribe Flashback : Faeries
It was two o’clock in the morning, and she was at the store buying skim milk. It was the cherry topper for this week that had been filled with so much odd behavior, that she was starting to doubt if Jerry was even the same person anymore. He was too sick to go himself, too hobbled to walk all the way down the block and through the park to the big, scary grocery store for the late night beverage. He didn’t even like milk.
Pathetic.
She had just crossed over the foot bridge when the glow from the pond caught her attention. It was hovering over the ice with a brilliant gold color. She set the milk down on the ground and took a few tentative steps out, beyond the shore. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. The light grew stronger as she approached. It pulsated, and resonated with a high pitched, harmonic humming that was like the most glorious choir that had ever taken voice. She put a hand out to caress the brilliance.
With a wet popping sound, the light oozed out and absorbed her hand, crawling up onto her upper arm as well. It moved like liquid all over her, until she was completely enclosed in the glow. She tried to move, but her arms and legs were pinned to her sides, and it took all of her strength just to draw in breath. From the outside, she had seen the beauty of the light and the sound. From this vantage point, all she could see was oozing black sludge and a pervasive smell of rot.
She looked out at the shoreline to see if there was anyone who might be able to help her. A dark figure emerged from the woods and she tried to call out, but could not find her voice. She watched as the figure stepped up to the edge of the pond and began to glow, the same golden luminescence which she had seen before.
The light grew so bright that she squinted against its power and then, in an instant, it cut out completely. She blinked the tears out of her eyes and, by the lights lining the walking path, she saw that the figure had clarified into something completely familiar.
She was looking at herself.
The newly formed doppelganger reached down to pick up the milk. It looked over its shoulder at her before turning towards their street. In that moment she had a sudden explanation for the oddity of this past week. Jerry really wasn’t Jerry anymore. Her thoughts flashed to the image of their two sons, and what was going to happen to them when she realized that a new grip was tightening around her ankles. The black sludge slipped away from her, creating a brief moment of freedom before the ice cracked and she was pulled down into the watery depths far below.
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October 11, 2016
Issue #170 : Commencing The Chase
This is the second installment in a five part story. If you haven’t yet read the first part, click here to go there now. Enjoy!
Richard pushed through the door and strode out onto the roof, Jacob close behind. There was little on the roof to offer cover that their subject could have concealed itself behind, other than a few over-sized air compressors and a shed. Still, there was no sign of anyone and no sound of movement. The buildings surrounding them were too far away for the vamp to have jumped, but still they found themselves alone, no one to find.
“You guys are too slow,” the voice came from behind them and they turned in time to see bright light bursting forth from one of the nearby outlets. It projected out into the air before them, forming a roughly human shape out of pure light. As they waited, the light began to dim and reshuffle until the form of a young man had replaced it, grinning at them as his physical body took form.
“Brett,” Richard said in greeting, turning his attention back to the examination of the rooftop. “You have the most convenient timing.”
“I told you there isn’t anything up here to find,” Brett said as he jogged around to get back into Richard’s line of sight. “I caught a quick glimpse at your guy from the data stream but he was gone too fast to do anything.”
“How did you get access up here?” Jacob asked.
Brett nodded back over his shoulder. “Their wifi hub starts at that junction. I just coasted in through that.”
“You aren’t supposed to rush into confrontations by yourself,” Richard said. “Especially if it isn’t a place where you can project a digital version of yourself.”
“I only showed myself when you guys came up here,” he protested. “I’m not an idiot. I know I don’t stand a chance against a vamp by myself. I leave the heavy lifting to you.”
Richard turned to Brett, finally giving him his full attention.
“So what did you see?”
“Not much. He moves way faster than anything I’ve seen so far. Not that I’ve seen that many of them but this one was definitely strange. And I swear for a second he knew I was watching him.”
“How would that be possible?” Richard asked.
“You got me. All I can tell you is that I was watching from the stream and I could see him clearly look up at me, as if we were making eye contact. Could just be a fluke, and it’s not like he could have done anything if he had seen me, it was just strange. People don’t generally get the jump on me like that, you know?”
“So…anything else that might help us?”
“Look…” Brett trailed off as the smart-ass slid away for the moment. “I can’t give you any reason for feeling this way. The things we normally track down are dangerous enough as it is. I just get the feeling that this one is worse. The whole time I was watching him, I felt like he was laughing at me.”
Jacob glanced at Richard, the concern clear on his face. “What are we going to do?”
“Not much we can do. We can’t track him from here. I’m afraid we’ll have to wait until he kills again.” Richard turned back to Brett. “Get back onto the Net and keep an eye out for anything unusual. I don’t care what it is. I’d rather you waste our time than ignore something important. Get back to us as soon as you find anything.”
Brett nodded and began walking back towards the data hub.
“Oh, and Brett? Don’t jump back into my cell phone again like you did last time.”
Brett grinned and nodded, lighting up from within himself with a brilliant white light before dissipating into nothingness.
“Are we going to be able to find this thing?” Jacob asked as they moved to the edge of the roof, looking down at the confused mess below.
“We don’t have a choice,” Richard responded.
“We’re the only ones who can.”
* * *
Besides making the travel faster, Brett’s ability to convert himself into digital data made it possible to wait inside the police database, on the lookout for any emergency calls. It made him uncomfortable being this close to law enforcement, even in this state, considering his near brush with incarceration for his own extra-curricular activities.
He could stay here for as long as was needed. In this state, he wouldn’t get tired, hungry, or need anything else that his physical form might require. It didn’t help him when the was task mind-numbingly boring, though. Call after call came in for domestic abuse assault, robbery in progress, fires spotted in alleys but never what he was looking for. Brett often felt like he got the raw end of this relationship, doing the dull busy work while Richard and Jacob got to run off into glory.
Finally, he saw what he needed. A body had been discovered behind a diner, nearly drained of blood. Officers were on site but they had put the call out for medical examiners and detectives as well. There would only be so much time before the scene was flooded with people getting in the way. And as much as he knew Jacob loved using that time-piece and just freeze everyone in place, Brett knew that this thing they were looking for would likely not hang around the scene again. Not that he knew there were people out there looking for him. Brett needed to act now and try to collect some information for the others that would actually be useful. Strictly speaking, it was not something he was supposed to be doing but what the hell? It wasn’t like he couldn’t make decisions for himself like an adult, and there wasn’t any real danger. Just observation.
Sweeping out of the Police server, he coasted along the data path until he ended up inside the cell phone for one of the officers on scene. This kid happened to be hanging around near the perimeter, keeping unwanted civilians from wandering in to gawk or take pictures. Brett waited for him to stroll near an alley before generating himself out of the phone, taking physical form behind a nearby dumpster so the cop wouldn’t see him. He peeked around at the scene, trying to get a glimpse at the body but could see nothing.
Brett began scanning over the crowd, wondering if this thing would indeed be brazen enough to hang around and risk being caught or at least spotted. It seemed like the normal fare of voyeuristic on-lookers though, people trying to see something juicy in this city in which they had managed to survive for another day. This had nothing to do with them, it was just something to stare and marvel at.
Brett moved to stand up when he suddenly felt the presence behind him, heard the hissing breath and then the hand drop heavily down onto his shoulder. He looked down to see the elongated, spindly fingers as they gripped tighter, razor sharp fingernails already starting to break the skin. He turned to look back but another hand took a firm grip on the back of his neck, forcing him to keep looking forward.
“Yessss,” the voice hissed at him. “You have a very distinctive scent, yes? I remember you from before, your sniveling mannerisms, watching me from somewhere I could not see. I commend you on your abilities at camouflage although they clearly failed you here.”
“Please—” Brett started to say but was cut off as the thing jerked up on his head, causing his breath to rush out uselessly.
“Do not speak. You will listen to my question first, and then speak, yes?”
Brett nodded jerkily.
“Very good. All I require is to know where your friends are. The other two. And I want to know what you want with me, why you follow me so. Tell me now, yes?”
Brett shook his head. There was nothing he could tell the thing, nothing he could say. Even if he wanted to, he never knew where Richard was hiding out. Likely the two of them were sitting it out in some relatively decent hotel nearby, but for the most part, his employer stayed as much off the radar as possible.
“You will tell me now what it is you seek or I will snap your neck.This is your choice.”
Brett gasped in a breath and looked around frantically for anything he could use to get free. There were people walking past, out on the sidewalk, but none of them were close enough for him to divert the cop’s attention.
Then, just as spots began to appear in his vision, Brett saw a cell phone lying on the floor of a fire escape, across the alley and up on the second floor. It was just close enough that he could make the jump. As if sensing he was about to try something, the grip tightened and he thought he could feel his bones threatening to crack as the thing howled in rage.
Brett’s head went light as his body made the transition, slipping out of it’s physical form and rushing up into the phone. At the last minute, it occurred to him that he had no idea if the phone even had a charge but there was just enough battery and signal for him to leap-frog through the phone and into the network.
As he rushed away from the scene, he inexplicably heard the things’ voice, gravelly in his ear as he went.
“Interesting. We will meet again, yes?”
