Watch Over You (15 page)

The wind stole her voice as she called out his name, the echo dissolving into nothing louder than the sound of the waves. “Eric,” she shouted over and over until her voice was hoarse - but he didn’t even flinch. She pushed herself back up onto wobbly legs. Pulling her feet from the sandy clutches of the shore, she half-ran, half-dragged herself along, but she never to get any closer to Eric. He always seemed just as far away. She sobbed as she kept moving towards him, pleading with him in her head to turn around and see her. “Please look at me,” she wailed.

She crumpled to the ground once more, but someone caught her before her knees could touch the sand. Devan pulled her tight into his arms, rocking her small frame consolingly as she sobbed against him. “He’s right there,” she wept. She twisted in his embrace, trying to show him, but Eric was gone. “He was there. He was. I saw him.” She looked up at Devan, desperation etched on her features. “He was. I promise. He was there.”

Her bottom lip trembled, and the tears ran in an endless flow down her cheeks. Devan  wrapped his arms tightly around her once more and let her cry against his chest. “He was there.”

“Tell me what you saw,” Devan murmured in her hair. “Tell me what this place is.”

There were no other sounds around, other than her and Devan and the waves crashing against the shore. She listened as the tide sucked the water back, before sending it hurtling again towards the sand. She let the sounds creep in and calm her mind.

“Tell me Tara,” Devan whispered. He didn’t let her go.

“It’s our beach,” she said, her sobs waning a little. He rested his face against her hair, pressing a hand to the back of her head to press her closer. She clung to him as if he was going to vanish. Her arms snaked around
his waist; she gripped fistfuls of the jacket he wore, desperate to keep him there. “What’s happening?” she sobbed.

She was losing control, or her mind, or both. Only Devan felt right in her arms. His warmth seeped into her, slowly filling her soul with calm and peace. She turned her face up to his so that she could look into his eyes.

“Tell me what this place is.”

She swallowed hard and nodded. All of her memories were there. Like tiny clips of the best moments of their life together. It wasn’t hard to pull this one forward. It had been the day she thought she could never be happier. “Eric proposed here,” she said quietly. “This was where we decided we’d move away and make a fresh start.” She couldn’t help but smile. “He didn’t do it like normal people, though. He was painting, and he wouldn’t let me see it. He told me this was special and I had to wait.”

In her mind, she could see it all. She could see him sitting there, facing the water. She had thought he was painting the sea. She could still feel of the sun on her face, the way the sand had felt under her feet. She could feel the warmth of him in her memory. Just being close to him had given her a sense of calm even if he wasn’t talking. As long as she could see him or feel him there, then she was content. There were no words that would ever replace that feeling.

“How did he do it?” Devan asked.

“He painted me a story,” she said and grinned. “There were these paintings he had done. One was his old room that he had rented before he met me. Then there was another of his room with me sitting at his table. He’d also painted a picture the day we met. I didn’t know he was painting it. It was in class, and he had painted me while I sat there painting the objects on the table. The one he painted at the beach was one of his hand holding a ring. He asked me if he could paint pictures of our life together. I said yes. I was crying like an idiot. God knows why he didn’t run a mile right then.

She closed her eyes. She could feel Eric there. She could feel how she had held him afterwards, just as she was doing with Devan now. How she had kissed him and how he had kissed her right back. She remembered lying in his arms later and realising he had just given her the sun. She was going to keep it safe forever.

Just as she was losing herself to her memory, Devan tensed. A tremor of foreboding ran up Tara’s spine.

“What’s wrong?”

Devan was staring behind her, focused on where Eric had just been. She whirled around - except, it wasn’t Eric who was there. It was a shadow. And it was moving towards them.

Chapter Seventeen

Devan’s gaze raked the beach, examining the natural shadows for any signs of movement. He knew more shadows would be lurking, but he couldn’t feel them - not yet anyway. He had no doubt that they would come soon. Squinting, he scrutinized every inch until something inside him calmed enough with temporary satisfaction that they could move.

The tide was coming in fast, each wave reaching closer than the last. It came in around them, devouring the sand with every new wave that lapped at the shore. Soon it would reach them. It would enclose them and leave them stranded. They had to leave right now. The sea was sneaking up from behind, covering the sand and leaving only limited space for them to run. Still, Devan checked one more time. He had to. He had to be sure. He couldn’t make a mistake. He scanned every crevice, every possible place where one of the walkers could hide, but he saw nothing. He wasn’t a fool. He knew they would come. Any time. If they could get in, they would be there.

He kept his eye on the shadow ahead of them all the while. One slip and it would come to them; but everything was still. The familiar trickle of blood began between his fingers. It dripped down onto the wet sand, creating dark red splodges. He would be glad when the swallow was removed. It was like an hour glass, pouring out his life each time it woke up. And he was weaker with each occurrence. He was fading.

“We should go,” he said, yanking on Tara’s hand. She nodded but almost fell at the sudden pull on her hand. Within a few steps, they sped up to a run. The sand was wet but firm underfoot.

He clenched his fist as the irritating bird began to throb in his palm, breaking his focus. He fell, his foot sinking through the surface and into liquid sand. Tara toppled over, crashing into him and embedding his leg deeper into the sand. He cried out as her weight twisted his leg into an awkward angle. She scrambled back but the sand had already started to suck her down too. Arms
flailing to the sides, she fell further back and Devan lunged for her.

“Help me,” she begged, her eyes wide with fear.

“Stop fighting,” he urged. “It just makes it worse.”

Devan gripped her arms, but rather than try to pull her free, he closed his eyes and went completely still. Pushing all other thoughts and pain from his mind, he tried to focus on the weight of the sand against his legs. He breathed in deeply and centred on the feelings within himself. He focused on the cold sand against his skin. He tried to visualise it forming a solid ground on which they could walk. He willed it to be.

“Devan,” Tara screamed his name and pulled at his arms. He kept his eyes closed and blocked out her panicked voice. It would not steal his attention, and he would not lose her because of this. He shoved the outside world and all its distractions from his head with a mental thump. He could not ease Tara’s fears, not until he had control. He let her voice fade into nothing more than a distant echo and sank further into his mind and his body, allowing the sensations to register in his mind. Only when they were clear enough did he meld them in the way he wanted so that the sand was solid once more. He allowed himself to come back to consciousness, but slowly, so that part of his mind could still hold onto the world he needed to be real and they could make their escape.

Tara’s face was fraught with fear when he opened his eyes, making his heart squeeze painfully in his chest. She had stopped yelling at least.  With his control and energy replenished, he stood up and then stepped up out of the sand as if he were climbing from a pit. He offered his hand out to a very shocked and bewildered-looking Tara.

“You can stand now,” he said to her. Confusion drawn all over her features, she grabbed his outstretched hand and, with no effort at all, he pulled her to her feet, freeing her from the grasps of the hungry sand. “We need to run. Now,” he said, giving her no time to ask questions. The shadow had slunk closer while they had been in mother nature’s sandy clutches. It floated only a metre away now. Devan shook off thoughts and images of
what if
. What if they had remained stuck there? What if the shadow had taken Tara while he was centring his mind? The thought brought bile to his throat. He would not fail her. 

“It’s coming,” Tara screamed as they ran. Devan glanced over his shoulder, his heart racing. It was close. It glided along at a slow speed. He didn’t know why it didn’t just launch itself at them, but he was glad it didn’t. He wouldn’t let it get her. She had to trust that part.

“Take my hand,” he yelled back to her. The moment she did, they were connected. His heart beat as fast as hers - she was scared. He focused on calming it down and giving her speed as they ran.

The shadow was closer behind them now. He felt the caress of cold mist on his back. He surged forwards, dragging Tara with him. They ran across the sand and the pebbles at a full tilt. When they reached the steps, he dared to stop and check for the shadow walker.

Tara clung to his side. “I can't see it,” she panted. “It’s not there. Where did it go?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “But it won’t be far; we have to keep moving. Come on.”

Devan turned and raced up the steps with Tara close behind. They were breathless when they reached the top step. His back and legs ached from exertion, and he struggled for a minute to catch his breath. It was cold and bitter, but it wasn’t raining. Tara’s tears had stopped as well.

There were normal shadows everywhere. In shop doorways. In gaps between. In shelters. Every spot had the potential to become one of them.

“Devan,” Tara cried and clutched his arm. He spun around just in time to see a shadow rise up from the steps. It glided closer, its movement languid and fluid.

“This way,” Devan said. He steered her down a high street that led away from the beach. A street that had once been bursting with life was now empty. No cars
on the road; no people on the pavement. The shops were all in darkness. There was not a soul to be seen. He felt eyes on him, watching and waiting, ready to pounce - and they would if they got the chance. The shadow had vanished once again. They would be okay if they just kept to the light.

As they passed the fire station and turned left down one of the smaller roads, a shadow stepped out in front of them. They both stumbled back and Tara yelped. This wasn’t the one from the beach. It was lighter in colour, not quite as solid, but it was still coming for them.

His heart hammered in his chest, but it was not him who had sped it up, it was Tara. Her panic was rising as the shadow loomed closer. It made him feel dizzy and his focus slipped.

“It’s okay.” He tried to calm her down. “It’ll be okay. Stay with me, okay?”

She nodded beside him, but she wasn’t looking at him. Her gaze was fixed on the shadow, watching as it moved. She started to back away, pulling Devan with her.

“I have another day,” he shouted at the shadow. “Leave us alone.” He had until tomorrow. He had until just before midnight. 11:37 p.m. to be exact. The time was engraved in his mind like a meter ticking above his head. His hand flew to his scar as it came into painful life across his chest. “No,” he rasped.

The shadow didn’t react. If anything, it came closer. Devan held his hand out in front of him to stop it. It touched his arm, black, cold spider webs stroking his skin, but it burnt. It burnt like ice and he felt his skin tighten and blister. He staggered backwards, shoving Tara away from danger. She whirled around and raced on ahead. Devan sped behind her. The shadow was coming.

He saw it then - the place he was looking for. The place she would know. He had known it was around here. He experienced a moment of victory when he realised he had found the place. He grabbed onto Tara’s shoulder. “This way,” he said to her and pulled her
towards it. He raced for the door and knew in his mind that it would be unlocked.

He slammed into the door and the glass rattled. He pushed down hard on the handle then flung them both inside. As the door was slammed shut, the shadow was forced to a stop on the other side of the glass. The awning cast darkness over the door, making the shadow strong, thicker, more solid. Devan searched the door for an opening, anything that the shadow would pour itself into, but there was nothing. Not even a mail box. Relieved, he muttered a silent thank you.

Tara was staring at the figure outside. Her eyes were fixed on it, mesmerised. This was how they took the souls they wanted. Because it was darkness that made the souls broken, the shadow walkers could pull at that. They could touch it and control it. Devan pushed Tara into the back part of the shop. There were two doors there. One had multiple bolts and locks on it. He assumed that one led to the outside. The other was perhaps for storage. “Look at me, Tara,” he said “Look at me.”

She blinked twice and opened her eyes wide. Devan alternated between looking at Tara and checking the shadow at the door. She came around slowly, as if she was just rousing from a deep sleep, just as she had done in the house after she had touched his hand. Only this time, they hadn’t got her as far. She turned her head in the direction of the shadow, but Devan caught her face and made her focus on him instead. “Don’t look,” he said when she tried again. “Please, Tara. Listen to me. Don’t look at it.”