The Light Who Shines (33 page)

Bluebell Kildare: June 1, 2022, Red Ages

As Varg and I walk up to Maud’s house, I notice the
marigolds are still there. I sure miss the zinnia. Maud opens the door, still
sporting her bright red hair. Instead of pairing it with black, though, she’s
paired it with a bright pink dress with peek-a-boo shoulders and an A-line
skirt. Her shoes are taupe strappy sandals, and she looks fantastic as usual.

I kiss her cheek and ask, “All ready for summer?”

Maud kisses me back. “The summer fun has already begun.”

We gather at the kitchen table as is our wont. Maud pours us
each a glass of lemonade and sits down. Then she positions herself to watch out
the glass patio door toward the wild jungle and beyond.

I look out to see what she’s watching. A car pulls up in
front of Harry’s house. A person gets out and walks up to the front door. I see
other people walking away from the house and getting in their car to drive
away. A minute later, the person who just walked up walks back to their car.
Another car pulls up.

“What’s happening over at Harry’s?”

Maud smiles deviously. “Yesterday someone knocked on my door
with Chinese delivery. I never ordered it. It was from that stinking Harry.”

I say, “No!” and almost afraid to ask, I ask anyway. “So
what did you do?”

Maud says, “I placed an ad in the classifieds. It gave
Harry’s address and said there was a bottom dollar basement sale on items from
a closed down electronics store with TVs, stereos, laptops, things like that.”

I laugh. ”Maud, you are a treasure and a terror!”

Maud nods distractedly, “Of course, dear. Now, hush, I’m
enjoying the show.”

The two of us watch for a while. We see one man leaving with
an old tube TV. Maud mutters, “I don’t believe it. He’s actually letting them
have his stuff!” After a little while longer we see Harry go outside and pound
a sign in his front yard.

The next people who drive up read the sign and drive away.

I turn to Maud and ask, “Hmm, what do you think the sign
says?”

Maud raps her pink painted fingernails on the table. “I
don’t know, but you’re going to find out for me.”

With that extremely subtle hint, I decide this is a nice
time to take a hike around the block and scope it out. When I return, Maud
ushers me in. With her eyes wide and excited she asks, “Well?”

I tell Maud with as straight of a face as I can, “The sign
says ‘Sale over, all sold out.’” As soon as I see the twinkling in Maud’s eyes,
we both burst out laughing.

“Smart man,” Maud says. “When life hands you lemons, make
lemonade.”

“You know, Maud, maybe you should give him a chance.”

Maud sighs, a smile playing on the corners of her lips.
“Maybe. He’s persistent, all right. I’ll give him that.”

Jack Tanner: June 2, 2022, Red Ages

I keep staring at the reports of Dark Vampire sightings, but
by damned, the numbers are not changing no matter how hard I pierce the papers
with my eyes. Dark Vampire sightings are reaching record highs. Ernesto has
been busy non-stop for weeks. I’m going to have to get another Dark Vampire
hunter on my team. But what I really want to know is why this is happening. I
need to track down the source.

The phone rings and interrupts my thoughts. I look out my
office window, wondering if it’s later than I thought. No, dawn is just
breaking over the tree line. Well, whoever it is, it can’t be worse than these
numbers.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other line says, “It’s Gambino. I’ve got
news.”

“I’ve got ears.”

“I’ve had a guy tailing former officer Dean Schmidt since
you told me about Blue. So far my guy has been planted outside his house. We
hadn’t seen so much as a light switch flicker and were beginning to wonder if
he moved his locale before we arrived—until this morning, that is.”

Gambino pauses and I prompt, “Well, what has changed?”

Gambino takes a deep breath, obviously not wanting to say
what he’s about to say. “Well, about thirty minutes ago, Schmidt’s garage door
opens and he takes a drive all the way across town. My man thought he was drunk
with the way he was swerving all over the road. He finally parks in front of
the Dilectus Deo headquarters, the Center for Enlightenment.” Gambino gives a
bark of laughter at that.

“Well, then Schmidt emerges from his car, and my guy says he
is like death warmed over. His arm is swollen to twice its normal size. He can
hardly walk, but he makes it up to the Center. Then, just as they open the
door, he collapses on the stoop. They end up dragging him in.”

“Gambino, that is the absolute worst place for that man to
be. He is a viper now, but they will turn him into a monster.”

“I know. Anyway, I’m pulling my man off of him. Tailing a
man who is protected by the Dilectus Deo would not be wise unless we had
evidence he was committing more crimes. Are you sure Blue doesn’t want to press
charges?”

I ponder this for a minute. “I don’t want to speak for her,
Gambino. She said no. But it wouldn’t hurt you to ask again. Maybe a little
time has changed her perspective.”

“Will do,” Gambino says with a bit more hope than I’d grant
his cause.

I hang up and pound my fist on the desk. I look down at the
report that I’d been staring at. I was wrong; this day, maybe even this entire
decade, just got worse.

Bluebell Kildare: June 2, 2022, Red Ages

I drive deep into the Warehouse District and arrive at the
Cock and Bull Tap on Industrial Drive. Varg is eager to get out of the car. We
stand in front of the tavern and look across the street as I consider the
warehouses on the opposite side. Could he have been held in a warehouse? I
should have Rubalia do some research on all of the warehouses in the area.

I walk to the left until I arrive at the corner of
Industrial Drive and River Road, then heading down River Road with Varg at my
side. I stop at the alley where Jason’s body was found. I can picture where his
body was lying and how his broken limbs were splayed across the asphalt. My gut
wrenches at the image.

I think back to what I learned at the medical examiner’s
office. He was found on the right side of the street, face up at the alley
entrance with his head pointing toward the Half Moon River. Paul must have been
driving the car down the alley and hit the boy as he tried to turn left on
River Road. Jason must have been coming from down River Road.

I start walking further down the road toward Memorial Lane.
Memorial Lane runs parallel to the river with Red Wood Cemetery on the other
side. The cemetery is located on some high land that slopes down toward the
river. It’s not visible from here, but the sound of rushing water is clear.

I wonder where a naked boy would be kept where he could be
tortured and no one would know. Would the river noise hide his screams for
help?

When I arrive at the corner of River Road and Memorial Lane,
I see a dead end sign, quite appropriate for a road that ends in a cemetery.
Varg and I cross the street, and the sounds of the river grow louder as we
approach. At the edge of the cemetery, River Road terminates in a turnaround.
Between the cemetery and the river is a strip of wild brush that dips down the
bank.

I look at the cemetery again from this vantage point, and
then I look down Half Moon River. As the crow flies, or as the river flows,
it’s not that far from here to Phantom Island where Jason was last seen before
his abduction. Varg and I walk back to the car. I think I need to visit Phantom
Island.

A few minutes later I park my car at the library, and Varg
and I walk over the lawn to the edge of Half Moon River, which borders the
property. A steel and stone bridge crosses over from the manicured lawn of the
library to Phantom Island in a tall arc. The island is a small mass of green
land that sits in the middle of the river where it runs wide and shallow. The
bank of the river all around the island and a large part of the front has been
landscaped into a beautiful park, but the center of the island has been left
wild with a dense forest and a thick canopy of leaves casting deep layers of
shade. I imagine those shadows are how it gets its name. People can often be
seen spread out on blankets on the manicured portion of the island, reading
their books. But this morning the island is quiet and deserted.

I carefully examine the riverbank by the bridge on the
mainland and walk up and down about one hundred yards each way. I’m not looking
for anything in particular; I’m just hoping for a clue. The island bank on the
other side is indistinct because the river is so wide here.

Grasping the steel handrails tightly, I climb the high,
arcing bridge with Varg following close behind. The further I get from land,
the more the dank air fills with the smell of muddy water and decaying
vegetation. At the top, I look up the murky river toward Red Wood cemetery
about a mile ahead and ponder its proximity again. A steady breeze carries the
rich river scent up to us as we stand suspended over it on the bridge. I look
up at the sky where large white clouds with heavy silver linings edge the sky
with the foreboding of rain. We descend on the other side, and I walk the
shaved lawn along the perimeter of the small island as Varg happily explores
the landscaping, sniffing and marking his territory as he goes.

There are two wooden slat park benches close to the bridge,
facing an island bed of bright yellow daylilies and brilliant blue irises. I
follow the strip of flat green lawn around the island away from the library
side of the mainland. On the other side of the river, I see the backside of a
row of shops with a narrow alley running behind them. I stop frequently to
examine the lawn and the landscaping for any article that might have fallen
during a struggle. Varg stays close to me, sniffing all around with avid
interest.

Continuing around the other end of the island, the expansive
strip of manicured grass narrows to just a path between the river and the dense
forest crowning the center of the island. Walking this close to the forested
area, I see dapples of sunlight spotting the forest floor where rare rays of
sunshine make it through the canopy of leaves. As I move past it, the sunlight
and various shades of gloom shift eerily within the forest. After rounding the
bend, I’m on the final stretch of the length of the island that lines the
library side.

The grass widens again here, and the view of the library is
partially obscured by a single row of small, ornamental dogwood trees with the
slight remains of blossoms on the ground that would have been in full bloom
about a month ago. The row continues along the library side of the river all
the way up to the bridge. I bet in full bloom they would have completely
concealed any struggle that occurred on this side of the bridge.

“Varg,” I call as I start to head toward the bridge with a
heavy feeling of defeat. Varg, who’s sniffing just on the outside edge of the
forest, gives a low yip and goes a little further in. I head back down the path
lined with dogwood, angling toward the forest to see what holds Varg’s
attention. The hair on the back of Varg’s neck is raised, and he’s now standing
at attention and sniffing the air.

As soon as I reach him, he starts to move further into the
forest and I follow cautiously. The trees have high trunks and not much brush,
but the trunks are densely spaced, and the dappling of light that filters
through the canopy of leaves becomes sparser with each stride. The incessant
sound of insects buzzing and clicking creates an eerie background for the
forest. With each step, the light alters, mingling with the dark, creating an
ever-changing kaleidoscope of grays that becomes increasingly dimmer as I step
forward. The root system on the ground is thick and bulges out of the earth,
creating little pockets of different levels of footing. After about fifteen
feet I stop to look back, and I can barely see the park landscaping anymore
through the thick of trees. I hope I don’t have to follow Varg in very much
further because it is really spooky in here.

As we continue on, the thrumming of the insects builds to a
crescendo, effectively cutting me off from the rest of the world. My heart
starts to pound in my breast. I yank my leather vest close around my body and
wrap my arms around my middle. My adrenaline is starting to spike, and
irrational panic is setting in. I try to breathe slowly to calm myself down.

Then suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I see something
move in a blur. No sooner do I move my head in that direction than the movement
stops. I stand stock-still, staring at the space from where the movement came,
waiting tensely, peering keenly, and listening closely. Then, in a rush, out of
an area of deep darkness, a large black bird flies off a tall branch and swoops
down between the trees heading straight toward me. I watch as it looms closer
and larger with every moment. I throw my hands over my face and cringe,
squatting down to the forest floor.

I stay there, crouched and cowering, and after a few breaths
I realize that nothing bad has happened to me. I slowly peek between my fingers
and am heartened to see nothing in front of me. I carefully stand and lower my
hands, peering into the gray veil of shadows that surrounds me. The blackbird
is sitting on another tree branch on the other side of me, choking down an
insect. Holy smokes! I feel so foolish.

I cast around for Varg and see that he’s just ahead. I can
see that the hair all along his back ridge is still raised, and he is growling
unhappily at something lying on the ground.

I start to move toward him, and after a few paces, I realize
that the something is a blue backpack. I nearly drop to my knees in relief.
This forest has me a nervous wreck! Oh, I hope against hope that this is
Jason’s and that it holds a clue.

I grab a strap that’s sticking up and try to pick it up.
It’s much heavier than I had expected, and as I move my boot back to brace
myself, my foot catches on a root and my ankle starts to twist painfully. I
throw my weight forward again to try to keep my balance. I reach out for a
branch to hold on to, but it offers insubstantial support, and I drop with an
“oomph!”

Shoot! My leg is twisted underneath me. I hold my weight
with my arms and slowly stretch my leg out in front of me. It moves well but
painfully. Once I have it stretched completely out, I gingerly rotate my ankle,
and it feels okay. Relief washes over me as I realize I am not greatly injured.
The forest ground may be dirty, but I decide it’s better to plant my butt here
to look at the pack for a minute while I get my bearings.

Scooting over on my butt, I stretch my arm out until my
fingers reach the pack straps, and I pull it to me. I pull off my own pack and
take out a fresh pair of gloves and an evidence bag. After putting the gloves
on, I unzip the pack and pull out a textbook: AP Chemistry. I open the front
cover, and on the sign-out sheet is neatly printed “Jason O’Connell.” My fear
leaves me and my heart sings.

I flip open my phone and dial Gambino. “Gambino!” I say when
he answers. “I just found Jason’s backpack in the woods on Phantom Island!
Actually, Varg found it.”

Gambino’s voice is filled with a smile. “That’s fantastic!
I’ll be right there!” Then I hear a click and close my phone.

I start rummaging through the backpack while Varg continues
to sniff around, growling occasionally at some scent he runs into. I flip
through some tattered notebooks, but at first glance they’re only filled with
school notes, so I put them aside. I pull out two more textbooks and check to
see if anything is inserted. I feel at the bottom of the pack, and my hand runs
into a pile of small objects that feel like loose change and pencils and pens.
I would love to dump the backpack out to examine the contents more closely, but
this is not the right place for that. I check the front pocket and pull out a
copy of the flyer for the Sun Flare Celebration Fireworks and Magic Show. I
carefully place it back and zip up the pack. This will have to wait until I
have a clean space.

It seems time to brave standing, so I pivot until I’m on my
knees and then lift to one foot. Pushing off my bent knee, I slowly attain
standing position. I shift my weight between my ankles, and my right ankle
hurts a bit, but fortunately it doesn’t appear to be sprained. I swing up one
pack at a time to each of my shoulders and start walking carefully back the way
I came. Varg is still interested in the area where we found the pack, but a
whistle brings him looping toward me. With eyes peeled to the forest floor, I
make it safely to the edge of the woods.

With great relief I step out of the woods and a few paces
onto the manicured lawn. I can see the library parking lot from between the
trunks of the dogwood trees, and Gambino is just exiting his car. I wave my arm
wildly at him, and he waves back and shouts, “On my way!”

Varg hears his voice and takes off running. In a flash he’s
over the bridge headed straight toward Gambino to greet him.

Once my feet are planted safely on the path leading to the
bridge, I flip open my phone and dial Jack. His warm, deep voice reverberates
through me like the sound of a harp being strummed. “Jack,” he answers.

“Jack, it’s Blue. I found Jason’s backpack.” As I’m
speaking, I suddenly feel a terrifying wave of maliciousness coming from the
forest I just exited. I look up and see Gambino and Varg approaching the
bridge. I spin around, looking for the source of that terrible impression.

Jack says from my phone, “Excellent work. Where did you find
it?”

I peer into the woods. My eyes seem to still be playing
tricks on me because the air seems to shimmer. I turn my attention back to the
phone call. “On Phantom Island,” I say. “I’m here now.”

I look backwards again toward Gambino and see him
disappearing from my line of sight on the other side of the bridge. The air
behind me seems to thicken with the scent of evil, so I spin toward the forest
again. A shape begins to solidify just at the tree line, and the roiling
feeling of viciousness gets louder and louder to my senses. Suddenly Tobias
Blackwater emerges in solid form and jumps from the trees, grabbing my arm.

“Tobias is here!” I shout into the phone as I shove my
shoulder into Blackwater with all my might.

My backpack falls off with a thud. Blackwater still has my
arm in a painful grip, so I drop the phone and swing the other backpack at him
with my left hand. It hits him, but he refuses to let go.

Holy Plane of Fire! Was he waiting for the very moment Varg
left me? I yank and pull away as hard as I can. Unexpectedly, my vision starts
to dim. I faintly hear Jack’s voice roaring through the phone as it lies on the
ground. “Blue!” At the same time I hear Gambino’s louder voice from the top of
the bridge yelling “Stop!” and Varg’s vicious growl threatening pain and death.

The graying of my vision relentlessly increases. Then the world
goes completely dark.

At first I feel like I’m blinded, and I thrash around for
balance, but no solid form meets my hands or feet. I feel suspended, alone in
space, but at the same time I can still feel Tobias Blackwater’s presence as a
nasty, sticky sweet insanity nearby. The air around me fills with a whooshing
noise. I feel confused and nauseous, as though my insides are being sucked out
by a vacuum. The air is racing by me, but I’m standing still. I hold out my
hands, and my fingers trace through insubstantial air. My heart races and sweat
pours down my temples. Then, suddenly, I feel wonderful, hard ground beneath
me, and I fall to my knees as the turmoil stills. It’s very dark here, but I
can tell that I’m in the world I know again, and Tobias Blackwater still holds
my arm.