than before, consuming the landscape beyond the parking lot and covering everything in a milky white haze. He pushed the door open, stepped out into the night and allowed the door to lock behind him.
His long strides shuttled him across the lot in double-time until the toot of a horn stopped him in his tracks. He glanced back over his shoulder. A wave of lights from the patrol car flooded over him in mystic swirls. He could see the officer inside only as a shadow, waving him over. He smiled and waved back. The horn tooted again. Once more, the shadowed silhouette silently beckoned. Chris ran to the car, reaching the driver’s side window short of breath, but glad to be safe in the protection of the law.
“ Hey,” he said, panting. “What’s up? You honk?”
The officer said nothing.
“ So, how’s it going?”
Still no answer.
“ What are you watching? Is that the fight?” Chris leaned into the window enough to catch a glimpse of the television. He squinted to make out the details on the screen. Slowly, the images came into focus. He gasped and swallowed with a forceful gulp. It couldn’t have seemed possible, yet somehow the images broadcasted on the television were the same as those he has seen on the window with Travis’ thought-form. Again, the murder of Travis Webber played out before his eyes in vivid detail.
He pushed away from the window just as the end came for Travis and the picture faded from the screen. He looked at the officer with dismay, but the officer still would not look up.
“ Did you see that?” he said, his voice croaking. “Did you see what just happened there? That was Travis.”
Something stirred in the corner of his eye. He turned sharply and looked out toward the parking lot. Leona Diaz stood silent, awash in a mist of illumination swirling about her. She appeared dazed, barefoot and naked, but for a shear nightgown, and if he could trust his eyes, she was hovering several inches off the ground.
“ Leona!”
She did not respond, but motioned with her head from side to side.
He turned to see if the officer could see her too, and was surprised to find him not looking. He reached out and nudged him on the shoulder. The officer slumped over, and Chris could see then that his throat had been slashed. He stumbled away from the window, horrified. He turned again to Leona. Her tears fell silent, her head shaking no in anguish.
“ What have you done?” he shouted. “Why did you do this?”
She stood mute. Her mouth moved but no words came out.
Chris shrugged. “I don’t understand. What are you telling me?”
She raised a finger and pointed.
“ Me?” he asked, pointing to himself.
She shook her head no.
“ I don’t get it. You’re not pointing at me?”
No.
“ You…are you pointing behind me?”
Yes.
He wheeled about, his fears and instincts realized too late. He managed only one word: the same word Travis managed before his death. “You!”
The Surgeon Stalker plunged his blade into Chris’ gut with the force of a charging bull. It tore upward through his chest, cutting meat and scoring bone indiscriminately until reaching the top of his neck. The attack came so quickly that Chris, like Travis Webber, was still alive when he fell to his knees with the Surgeon’s blade propping up his jaw. The shadowed demon smiled wickedly as he pulled the blade out, slicing his chin through to his lower lip. Chris’ body dropped to the ground like a rag doll. A thickening stream of blood beaded in trails and snaked along the pavement in quiet retreat.
Just feet away, Leona’s apparition faded into the swirling vortex of fog, leaving the Stalker to finish the harvest in the still of a haze-shrouded night.
Six
On the other side of town in a small efficiency, Leona awoke, her frail body dripping in sweat, unable to cope with the frightful vision of what she had witnessed. In a debriefing later she told me how she tried desperately to convince herself it was nothing
His long strides shuttled him across the lot in double-time until the toot of a horn stopped him in his tracks. He glanced back over his shoulder. A wave of lights from the patrol car flooded over him in mystic swirls. He could see the officer inside only as a shadow, waving him over. He smiled and waved back. The horn tooted again. Once more, the shadowed silhouette silently beckoned. Chris ran to the car, reaching the driver’s side window short of breath, but glad to be safe in the protection of the law.
“ Hey,” he said, panting. “What’s up? You honk?”
The officer said nothing.
“ So, how’s it going?”
Still no answer.
“ What are you watching? Is that the fight?” Chris leaned into the window enough to catch a glimpse of the television. He squinted to make out the details on the screen. Slowly, the images came into focus. He gasped and swallowed with a forceful gulp. It couldn’t have seemed possible, yet somehow the images broadcasted on the television were the same as those he has seen on the window with Travis’ thought-form. Again, the murder of Travis Webber played out before his eyes in vivid detail.
He pushed away from the window just as the end came for Travis and the picture faded from the screen. He looked at the officer with dismay, but the officer still would not look up.
“ Did you see that?” he said, his voice croaking. “Did you see what just happened there? That was Travis.”
Something stirred in the corner of his eye. He turned sharply and looked out toward the parking lot. Leona Diaz stood silent, awash in a mist of illumination swirling about her. She appeared dazed, barefoot and naked, but for a shear nightgown, and if he could trust his eyes, she was hovering several inches off the ground.
“ Leona!”
She did not respond, but motioned with her head from side to side.
He turned to see if the officer could see her too, and was surprised to find him not looking. He reached out and nudged him on the shoulder. The officer slumped over, and Chris could see then that his throat had been slashed. He stumbled away from the window, horrified. He turned again to Leona. Her tears fell silent, her head shaking no in anguish.
“ What have you done?” he shouted. “Why did you do this?”
She stood mute. Her mouth moved but no words came out.
Chris shrugged. “I don’t understand. What are you telling me?”
She raised a finger and pointed.
“ Me?” he asked, pointing to himself.
She shook her head no.
“ I don’t get it. You’re not pointing at me?”
No.
“ You…are you pointing behind me?”
Yes.
He wheeled about, his fears and instincts realized too late. He managed only one word: the same word Travis managed before his death. “You!”
The Surgeon Stalker plunged his blade into Chris’ gut with the force of a charging bull. It tore upward through his chest, cutting meat and scoring bone indiscriminately until reaching the top of his neck. The attack came so quickly that Chris, like Travis Webber, was still alive when he fell to his knees with the Surgeon’s blade propping up his jaw. The shadowed demon smiled wickedly as he pulled the blade out, slicing his chin through to his lower lip. Chris’ body dropped to the ground like a rag doll. A thickening stream of blood beaded in trails and snaked along the pavement in quiet retreat.
Just feet away, Leona’s apparition faded into the swirling vortex of fog, leaving the Stalker to finish the harvest in the still of a haze-shrouded night.
Six
On the other side of town in a small efficiency, Leona awoke, her frail body dripping in sweat, unable to cope with the frightful vision of what she had witnessed. In a debriefing later she told me how she tried desperately to convince herself it was nothing
Similar Books
