Midknight, p.10
Midknight, page 10
That did little to explain the detachment from his body that he felt at times....as if it belonged to someone else. He knew something wasn't right and that it had to do with the cloak that the soapbox preacher had given him, but what was it doing to him? The answers that Beau was looking for came two nights later. They had been visiting at his parent's place with his mom and dad and his sister's families when they heard what they thought was fireworks. It sounded like it was coming from across town, but Beau guessed that it was something else disturbing the peaceful evening. He listened intently and realized what he was hearing was gunfire. Lots of it.
“Get everyone down in the basement and lock the doors.” he instructed Lauren.
“What are you doing?” she asked him with a bewildered look on her face.
“I'm just going to make sure that everything is okay.”
“You don't think that's fireworks, do you?”
“I don't know. That's what I'm going to find out.”
“Beau, you don't have to go. Let the police handle it.”
“I will.... I'm just going to check things out. It'll be okay, Laur.”
“I don't see why you need to-”
Beau wasn't sure why he felt the need to go to where the fighting was taking place either, but something inside him was compelling him to go.... telling him that his presence was needed there.
“Lock the door behind me. I'll be back shortly.”
He turned and was gone before Lauren could say anything else. Beau raced down the streets with his window open so that he could pinpoint where the shooting was coming from and determined that it was on the east side of town on Highway 19. Dusk was starting to set in, but he could still see well enough to locate what was taking place a few blocks ahead. The gunfire was coming from the Adams Ford auto dealership as flashing red and blue lights lit up the building. Beau parked his vehicle and made his way closer on foot, never stopping to think about how much danger he was putting himself in.
He was a block away when he was able to observe the exchange of gunfire more clearly. Police vehicles were parked around the building and many of the officers were pinned down from gunfire coming from within it. Several windows had been busted out and semi-automatic rifles were shooting at anything that moved outside. There was a brief moment when the shooting ceased, giving the police an opportunity to pull one of their cruisers closer to the building.
With its headlights shining on the building, Beau noticed for the first time a massive hole in the front of the building that had been shrouded in shadows. From within, more gunfire erupted.... only this was much louder than any of the earlier shots. The showroom windows exploded outwards as heavy fire was concentrated on the police cruiser that had just edged closer. Two officers scrambled behind their vehicle as the front of it was blasted to pieces.
“Holy shit!” Beau exclaimed as he watched the police cruiser being reduced to shrapnel. He ran from behind the little car that he was crouched behind to across the street to see if he could get a better view of what was causing that kind of damage. He had been so focused on the police cruiser being struck by the gunfire that Beau didn't realize he was now hiding behind another police vehicle.
“Beau? What the hell are you doing here?” Bruce Williams was sitting on the ground, his pistol drawn and his back resting against the bumper.
“Bruce! Are you okay? What's going on?”
“What's going on is that you should be getting the hell out of here! Have you lost your mind?”
“I got stuck here when the shooting started.” Beau lied and wasn't really sure why he did. “What the hell kind of gun is that? Why are they inside the building?”
“Some clowns in some kind of armored military vehicle. They ran the checkpoint and smashed it through the building. I think it's some kind of 50 cal machine gun that they're using or an anti-aircraft gun. You can't be here, Beau! We're getting our asses handed to us. You're going to get yourself killed!”
“If you guys can't stop them, you tell me where there's going to be anywhere safe to go!”
“Just get out of here! We’ll handle it!”
Beau thought about protesting, but Bruce was right. “Take care of yourself!” he said and scurried across the street back to the little car that he had been hiding behind earlier. There was nothing that he could do to help here. The police would handle it. It was better for Beau to go back to his parent's place to be with his family. The big gun in the showroom began firing again, this time shooting at any police vehicle in the vicinity. Regular machine gun fire rained down, as well, effectively pinning the officers behind their vehicles.
“Officer down! Officer down!” With all the gunfire taking place, it was difficult for Beau to pinpoint where the wounded police officer was. The shooters in the building were concentrating their fire around the cruiser that was been taking the brunt of the big gun’s attack and that's where Beau noticed the stricken officer. He had tried to make a run for it and was struck down. The officer was still alive, but many of his fellow officers were immediately fired upon if they tried to go to his aid.
Beau felt a helpless sense of despair seep through him. The police were outgunned and weren't going to be able to stop their attackers. Even if they somehow miraculously turned this around, what about the next time these intruders showed up with more men and more firepower? Once they overpowered the police, what was to stop them from coming after the residents of Paradise Flats and his family? Beau knew that he couldn't allow that to happen. Glancing down from where he was crouched behind the little car, Beau thought that the shadows were playing tricks on him when he saw his hands. They were ink black even when he held them up to what little light there was. There was no mistaking it this time. This was no hallucination and he wasn't dreaming. Without any hesitation, Beau stood up and realized what he needed to do. Catching his reflection in the side windows of the little car, he saw someone dark and hooded looking back at him. Beau turned and focused on the downed officer. In the next instant, he was beside the wounded man cradling him in his arms and a moment after that, the two of them found themselves safely behind a police cruiser over a hundred feet away. Two other police officers jumped in surprise at their sudden appearance and drew their weapons on Beau.
“He's taken a bullet in his leg.” Beau said but didn't recognize the voice as his own. He's losing a lot of blood. Use one of your belts as a tourniquet to slow the bleeding.”
The two officers remained frozen in place with their weapons trained on him, shock on their faces over what they were seeing.
“I'm leaving him in your hands. Have you got this?” Beau studied the building to determine where all the shooting was coming from. Two shooters were upstairs in the offices, two more were down on the showroom floor behind overturned desks and one person was standing in the back of the military vehicle shooting the big gun. “I'm going in there to deal with them. Tend to his wound.”
“Hold it! You're not going anywh-” one of the officers began to say, but Beau was already gone.
With a mere thought, Beau found himself in one of the offices on the second floor standing behind one of the shooters. With his semi-automatic rifle pointed out the window shooting at anything that moved, the shooter was unaware of Beau's presence. Grabbing him by the collar of the vest that he was wearing, Beau tossed him across the room into the office wall. The shooter crashed hard into the drywall and fell awkwardly to the floor. Before he could climb black to his feet, Beau was across the room in an instance, striking the shooter and rendering him unconscious.
From the next office, a voice called out. “Perkins? What was that? Are you good over there?”
When there was no response, he slowly began to make his way across the hallway, weapon raised cautiously and ready to fire. Sensing his approach, Beau stepped into the shadows and disappeared out of sight.
“Perkins?” The second shooter entered the room and saw his comrade lying unconscious on the floor. “What the-” was all that he managed to say before two dark hands reached out of the shadows and grabbed the man and slammed his head hard into the wall. There was a surprised grunt and a loud thud before he fell to the ground.
The last thing Randall Dawson wanted to do was come back to Paradise Flats again. He had been a member of the group that had been sent here not even a week ago and got taken out by the ninja in the cape. He didn't think it was possible for just one guy to take out his whole crew. For some unknown reason, he let them all live and turned them over to the hillbilly police squad. When they were released, Dawson thought that the worst of their ordeal was over until they got back to Southby and had to face that psycho preacher. Dawson couldn't explain how Murmur was able to mangle Jenkins up so badly after hanging him up in the air like that, but by the time his dogs ripped Jenkins apart, Dawson didn't want to ever let Murmur down again. Except, that wasn't the worst of it. After the two kids were busted out of the house, the preacher went even more ballistic, killing two of the guys who had been guarding the kids right then and there and then feeding them to his dogs.
He wasn't even there that day, but Dawson was selected to go on another mission to Paradise Flats to finish what they started. From what he gathered, it was just one guy that took down the guards and freed the two kids and Dawson assumed that it had to be the same guy that had dismantled his crew out in the sticks. Whatever the case, the preacher was pissed and made it extremely obvious what would happen to this crew if they didn't carry out his orders. Dawson had no choice but to go, only he made it quite clear that he wanted to take the 50 cal this time. That way they could do a drive by shooting when they drove past the acreage and then get the hell out of there as quick as possible.
Their first mistake was letting Brick drive. After that fool ran the checkpoint, he lost control of the Humvee and drove it through the wall of the local Ford dealership. Now, here they were stuck in a firefight with a bunch of rednecks and nowhere near to accomplishing their goal. He had the local yokels scrambling for cover with the 50 cal, but they needed to come up with a plan to get out of here and finish the job right this time. If they failed again, they might as well go down in a blaze of glory or just keep driving east and hope that they never crossed paths with the preacher again. Dawson stopped shooting for a moment to survey the situation, only to discover that nobody else from his crew was doing any shooting.
“Burns, you good? Sharkey?” There was no reply from the men on either side of him in the showroom. Upstairs was just as quiet and a terrible feeling settled into the pit of his stomach. “Brick? Perkins? Talk to me.” Only silence. Dawson was on his own. He scanned the room for any sign of movement but didn't expect to see any. Dawson wondered again what was so important about the woman and the kid that they had been targeted three different times now and it was looking like the preacher wasn't going to get his wish again. Dawson decided that it might be best to make a run for it. Take the Humvee and put as much distance between the preacher and himself as possible. Satisfied that no one else was in the showroom, Dawson jumped over the back of the Humvee and made a dash for the driver's door.
As he reached for the handle, Dawson saw the reflection in the driver’s door window of someone dressed all in black standing behind him. There was no chance to draw his pistol as his head was slammed into the Humvee's window, dropping Dawson to the showroom floor. He sat with his hand clutching his forehead as he leaned his back against the door of the military truck.
“Who sent you?” Crouched down in front of him was someone all in black wearing a cape and cowl like freakin’ Batman.... only he was faceless under the hood except for two pale translucent white eyes.
“Who the fuck are you supposed to-”
A black hand hammered the back of Dawson's head against the door.
“Oww! Son of a bitch!”
“Who sent you?”
“The preacher.... Murmur.”
“Why?”
“To kill some woman and her kid.”
“Why?”
“I don't know, man. He never told us why. The guy’s a freaking nut case. You might as well kill me now and get it over with because he sure as hell is going to kill us if we don't do as he says.”
“Maybe I should just do that to keep you from ever coming back here again.”
“That, my friend, is precisely what Murmur is trying to get you to do.”
To Dawson's right stood some dark-haired dude in a grey suit. He wondered if this was the same guy that Burns was telling him about who busted the kids out.
“Let me help you clean up this mess and turn our guests over to the authorities. Then, you and I should talk and I'll explain to you what is going on and what Murmur has done to you.”
CHAPTER SIX
With the five shooters safely secured in the dealership showroom, John D'Angelo instructed Beau to meet him back where he parked his car and the two of them disappeared before the police stormed the building. As he stood beside his vehicle, Beau studied his hands as the black inky substance slowly vanished until he eventually appeared as he normally did.
“Did all that really happen.... or am I dreaming again?” he asked John after he appeared by the passenger door of his car.
“I assure you that it really happened.... as it did a few nights ago out at your acreage.”
“You know what's happening to me, then?”
“I do, I'm afraid. Let's drive somewhere more private so that we aren't interrupted.”
They drove to Mayfield Park, exited Beau’s car and wandered along the asphalt trail until they came upon a wooden bench. The park was deserted now that nightfall had settled and the temperature had cooled off considerably. John D'Angelo sat down on the bench and with a wave of his hand invited Beau to sit down, as well.
“Make yourself comfortable, Beau Sittler. What I'm about to tell you might take a while.”
Beau hesitated for a moment. He really didn't know that much about John D’Angelo when it came right down to it. It was obvious that he was no normal human being and Beau started to question whether coming here alone with him was such a good idea. Could he really trust him? Was this some kind of trap?
Checking out his surroundings, he reluctantly sat down. John D’Angelo was lost in thought as he looked out into the night and Beau began to grow even more uncomfortable.
“Sorry, if I seem distracted. There is much that I must tell you.... I'm just deciding how to do so. I suppose starting from the very beginning would be best.”
Beau was suddenly unsure that he wanted to hear what John D'Angelo had to say. There were too many unexplained things happening around him and maybe in this case, ignorance might be bliss if he didn’t know what was taking place.
“First things first. We have never been formally introduced. My name is John D’Angelo as you probably already know and as you have most likely deduced, I'm not human.”
They shook hands and Beau nodded. “I kind of figured that.”
“The fact of the matter is I'm part of a god like race called the Celestials that has been around since the dawn of time. We are omnipotent and all powerful.... at least we used to be. Our world, Elysius, is one of beauty and harmony, magic and power. For centuries we basked in our magnificence and revelled over our many achievements and accomplishments. That wasn't enough for some of our kind and it was decided that we needed someone to cherish and worship our very presence. Vanity and arrogance prompted us to create lesser beings in our image to bow down before our magnificence and cherish us. It was decided that a world for these lesser beings would be created much in the same image as Elysius, complete with its own wonders and magic.
What my kind failed to account for was the effect that the magic would have on their creations. These lesser beings couldn't get enough of it, using it constantly and eventually abusing it. It began to change them and turn them against one another.... a side effect of the magic that we failed to foresee. To make matters worse, there were those of the Celestial race that didn't care for a lesser species having command of all this magic and decided that they wanted it for their own. These members of the Celestials soon found themselves corrupted by the magic, as well. The more that they used, the more that they changed. In our ignorance, we failed to realize what was happening until it was too late. Their hunger was insatiable, always wanting more of the magic until that world of beauty and magic was reduced to a wasteland. Forests shrivelled and died. Lakes were reduced to dust and the skies turned dark. The entire world became barren and desolate by the time they were done with it.
Of course, that didn't stop those of my kind that had been changed by the magic. They wanted more.... they now wanted the magic of our home world, Elysius, for themselves, as well. Thus began a terrible struggle for power that brought about a war of the gods. It was a horrific struggle as in a sense, our magic that we used to create this new world was now being used against us. In the end, we were able to defeat those of our kind that had been subverted by the magic, but it came at a terrible cost to both sides. When all was said and done, they were cast out of the Celestial home world forever and sent into exile to live out eternity in the ruins of the world that came to be known as Perdisius. Those that inhabited this wasteland world became known as the Forsaken.
Failing to see the error of our ways with Perdisius and the Forsaken despite our infinite wisdom, we decided to create another world.... yours, but without any magic this time so that the same mistakes weren't made again. It started out as a paradise much like Perdisius was in the beginning but absent of any magic so that it didn’t corrupt your way of life. We believed that we had it right this time only to learn that the Forsaken weren't done with us yet. Thousands of years had now passed by since their banishment. When they found out that another world had been created, their hatred for us was so fierce that they vowed that they would destroy this new world before eventually returning to Elysius to reclaim it. We were confident that they were no threat to us, but once again they proved us wrong. The strongest of the Forsaken were able to free themselves and escape to your world. They still had some use of the magic, but it was not near enough what they needed to carry out their grand scheme to corrupt and destroy your world. Instead, they worked in the shadows doing what they could to turn the tide in their favor. It was during this time that they inadvertently discovered that there is a balance that governs the magic that was keeping them imprisoned.
