Into the Shadows (7 page)

When I got close to the gate of my fenced-in
front yard, the delivery guy asked if I was Mr. Beck. After making
sure, he got a box crate out of the back of the small van and said
it was 'compliments of Ms. Rondeau and her employer'. I asked him
how long he'd been sitting there waiting for me; he said that he
was told to wait as long as it took to make the delivery. I was
starting to feel pretty fucking important.

Once inside, I took the black wrapping off a
wooden container about the size of a shoebox. Stamped on it was the
word 'fragile' in a few languages. Inside was packing foam, an
envelope, and a bottle. Written by hand on the envelope was the
words 'time reimbursement'. The check inside of it was enough to
make me whistle.

The bottle inside the box was about half the
size of a regular wine bottle. The fancy label said 'Le Meur
Cabernet Sauvignon', which didn't mean shit to me, other than it
was wine. My hunch was confirmed when I uncorked it and took a sip;
it was the same red wine from dinner the night before. Oh hell
yes.

I resisted temptation and just stuck with
Jack and Coke that night. The next day, I was coming home from the
grocery store when I got a call from Ms. Rondeau's office. One of
her assistants - a gal named Sarah, who had a sexy voice - had an
offer on her boss's behalf. She asked if I wanted a tour of a few
places I'd see a lot of, if I accepted the position. Sure, what the
hell. Sarah said she'd personally come pick me up the following
afternoon. I thanked her, hung up, and then stepped out back and
fired up my cheap grill. Screw the weather; I was going to have a
rib-eye with that wine, dammit.

That night, I had another dream of the same
blonde woman with golden eyes. I'd never seen her before in real
life, but I remembered details of her from that dream. It was so
fucking vivid. She had long, light blonde hair with strands of
copper, and her pale skin was flawless. She was in shadows, but I
felt drawn and knew right where to find her. She held me and we
moved. Not dancing, really; it was more like an embrace in slow
motion. The dream wasn't actually erotic, although I did wake up
with serious wood.

The next afternoon, a black sedan pulled up
in front of my house. Luckily I didn't have to wear a suit that
time; I wore 'em a lot, so getting to wear casual clothes was a
bonus. Sarah called as I was putting a coat on - one without bullet
holes in it. When I got in the car, she was all innocent smiles
with a heavy hint of flirtation; sort of a mix between a tour guide
and an exotic dancer, or a cheerleader and a bar skank. Sarah was
cute, but not the
'girl next door, treat her like a lady'
type. She was more like the
'girl from out of town, treat her
like a dirty whore'
kind of cute.

The first place Sarah brought me was to an
art gallery. It was a big place, and had displays from three
different artists. Two of them mainly did abstract paintings, which
I thought were shit. The last display was from a photographer, who
had some nice shots. I got bored of that pretty quick, so I
basically cased the place; exits, restrooms, alarms, camera
locations, access to back rooms, and general layout. A dozen people
milling around, and no guard present - the security was reactive
rather than preventative.

On the way out, I told Sarah a little about
what I noticed. She asked what changes I would make while she drove
us into downtown. Once onto the avenues with tall buildings all
around us, Sarah asked if I'd like to have dinner before we visited
the Realm offices. She was in the mood for Italian, and there was a
good place nearby. Over big bowls of chicken Alfredo, Sarah asked
about my family. I didn't go into any details; I just said that I
didn't have any. I got the topic off of me and asked what her
normal job was. She mostly had to deal with artists, who were
sometimes temperamental, so I was a 'real treat'.

BUM

It was nearing dusk when we went in the
restaurant, so it was dark when we came out. The parking lot next
to the building was lit by one streetlamp, which was enough to see
a homeless guy pissing on Sarah's car. There were other cars in the
lot; I don't know why he went back and chose hers. And he wasn't
just tinkling on a tire - he was blasting the driver's door,
dousing the window, the door handle, everything. Sarah gasped and
swore. I was caught somewhere between disgust and laughter.

I really didn't feel like roughing up a bum;
I just wanted to run him off. As I approached, he looked at me and
put his junk back in his pants, but didn't move. The guy could have
been anywhere between forty and sixty; it was tough to tell with
his shaggy beard and unwashed face. His layers of clothing were
ripped and stained, and I could smell him from ten feet away. The
thing that unnerved me was that one of his eyes was squinted, like
he was defiantly sizing me up. The other eye was opened wide,
paranoid and twitching. I stopped at the other side of Sarah's car
so that the bum had a free path to leave.

"Hey, man, not cool," I said calmly but
stern. "I think you should get away from the car now."

The bum shifted from one foot to the other,
still giving me that wild stare. "Sweet danger at your doorstep,
boy," he said with a raspy, smoker's voice. "Flowers will dance,
and then they will wilt! Colors will spin and eyes will alight
before fading. But the power is in your backyard - power!"

Oh great, a whacko. "Hey, yeah, that's great,
man. Now why don't you get moving before my friend back there calls
the cops, alright?" I glanced back and saw that Sarah was already
on her phone.

Ol' crazy eyes shuffled out from between the
cars and moved closer to me. I tensed and slid one foot back for
better balance, just in case. I initially didn't want to hurt him,
but he was getting aggressive.

"The dark eye, the cracked flesh," the bum
wheezed. "The ancient shadow, he looms, boy! Can't you feel it?"
His arms flailed as he spoke, and that one eye opened even
wider.

I sighed. "All I can feel is my patience
coming to an end, old man. So go away, now." I'm not sure why, but
the words of his insane rant unsettled me.

He moved toward me with a jerk, like his
crazy eye was pulling him. "She is a tool!" he said, turning his
glare to Sarah. "A harlot of vitae - she will -"

The end of my little Ruger that pressed
against the bum's cheekbone shut him up. He became very still and
then slowly took a step back with his hands out to his sides. I
reached out to give him a shove in order to get more room between
us. He wasn't big at all - kinda scrawny, actually - but it was
like pushing a wall; the bum didn't budge. I wasn't sure how he did
that.

Instead of trying to move him, I took a step
back and reset my aim on his face. "Seriously, man, last warning,"
I said as I lowered the gun to point at his legs. I was ready to
shoot. "Get the fuck out of here."

The bum backed away, still facing me. When he
got to the low retaining wall at the back of the lot, he yelled,
"Brave the shadows, boy! The Veleti comes - the Veleti!" And then
he nimbly hopped the wall and ran off.

I turned to Sarah. "Did you call the
cops?"

"No, you were here; I didn't doubt you could
handle a vagrant with a bladder problem. I just called the company
motor pool to bring us another car. I'm not touching that one
again."

I couldn't blame her.

EAVESDROP

We didn't wait long at all before another
black sedan pulled up. A guy in a black jacket with the Realm logo
on it got out, pulled a bucket of cleaning supplies from the trunk,
and then swapped keys with Sarah. She and I got in his car and took
off. I'd never heard of the company before a few days back, and
never noticed its uniformed employees around town, either. Delivery
vans, company cars . . . It wouldn't have surprised me if Realm
Management had its own planes, too.

Next to the skyscraper that Realm Management
called home was a multi-story parking garage. Sarah pulled into it
and took us to the lower level, which needed a card swipe to get
past the heavy barricade and retracting tire spike strips. Holy
shit, those people didn't fuck around. Down on the lower level were
a handful of expensive cars, and at least half a dozen black sedans
at the far end. Set into that far wall was a set of opaque sliding
doors. It didn't look like an elevator, and I didn't see stairs
anywhere, either.

Sarah parked near the other company sedans
and we headed over to the doors. In the wall next to the doors were
security devices; one was another card swipe, but I wasn't sure
what the other one was until Sarah put her thumb on its small
screen. The double doors hissed open, and we stepped into a long,
wide hallway with soft overhead lighting and nothing else.

"I'm starting to get how serious your company
is about security," I commented.

Sarah nodded as we walked down the hall.
"That's why they don't hire retired beat cops or wannabe's with a
gun permit. If you come on with Realm, they may have you take some
computer and electronics classes. If you're not already a member of
places for refresher courses - you know, gun practice, martial
arts, that kind of thing - they'll have you sign up for those,
too."

"I'm a member of a firing range, and I've
been going to the same dojo for a long time. There's no problem
with that, is there?"

"Nah, there shouldn't be," she said with a
shrug. "Just tell them the places you go to practice so they can
reimburse your fees. The company will pay for that."

"No shit?" The flippant question fell out of
my mouth before I could stop it.

"No shit," Sarah replied with a grin.

Damn, the deal got sweeter as I went along.
The long hallway ended at a T. Both ways went only about ten feet
back, with an elevator at either end. Sarah chose the one on the
left; I didn't know if it made any difference. On the long ride up
to the 36th floor in the swanky elevator, Sarah stood close to me.
Normally, I like my space, but her suggestive smile and nice ass
had me not minding so much.

While we walked through the corridors, Sarah
pointed out that most deliveries and visitors were dealt with one
floor down; it was rare that any non-employee got to the 36th floor
or above. She couldn't tell me what the floors above the 36th were
used for; she'd never been allowed up there.

We stopped near the end of a rear corridor,
in front of a plain door. She turned the handle and pushed it open.
"Take a look," she said.

"Wait, why wasn't the door locked? Almost
every other door up here is, except for the bathrooms."

"Oh, this one is open because Ms. Rondeau's
employer wanted you to see your future office."

"Office . . . I'd get an office?" I leaned
over and peered into the dark room.

"Sure you would," Sarah said, and then
strolled into the room. She found a light switch, and two small
lamps at either end of a desk came on. The room was deep, but not
very wide. It did have a window that faced north, though. All that
was in the office was the desk, lamps, and a leather chair. "I
doubt you'd be in here much," she went on, "but it'd be a nice
place to write your reports or do any online work. You might also
get to know some of the stiff collars you could be guarding."

"Hey, just between us, who
is
Ms.
Rondeau's employer?"

She gave me one of her coy smiles. "I
couldn't tell you even if I knew."

Just then, the lights flickered - desk lamps,
corridor lights, everything. We decided to head back down to the
car. I needed to hit the head, and after I explained what that
meant, Sarah decided that she needed to use the restroom as well.
We found a pair that was side-by-side. I finished up quick, stepped
out, and was about to meander around when I heard her voice through
the door. She was talking to someone on the phone. I stepped closer
and leaned in to listen. Don't judge - you would've, too.

". . . something about flowers and colors,
and . . ." There was a pause. "Well, yes, but he was raving."
Another pause, and then, "Alright, there was something about an
ancient shadow, and then he called me a harlot. Can you believe
that?" I could almost hear the voice from the phone because of the
bathroom's echo. "Yes, I'm sorry," Sarah said quietly. "Yes, he
did, but I didn't make much sense of it. Something like, 'the
Velenti', or 'the Vilidi' . . . What? Yes, Veleti - that sounds
right." There was one more pause before Sarah said, "I will. He's
nice, but kind of intense. I'll show him the loft and . . .
hello?"

I backed away from the door and turned to
admire some stupid painting. Sarah came out a minute later; her
smile couldn't quite hide the worry in her eyes. We went back to
the elevator; I noticed that only the buttons from 36 to 39 were
lit, as well as G1. I assumed it didn't make any stops on any of
the other floors. We didn't speak on the ride back down, each of us
reliving her phone call. I was kind of intense?

LATINO

Sarah and I went back down the long hallway
and through the opaque sliding doors. Only a few steps out into the
parking garage, we saw four male teenagers - thugs, bangers, punks,
delinquents, take your pick. They were an odd mix, though; two were
black, one white, and the last one was a short Latino. Two were
near the sedans to the right, and two to the left, all about
fifteen yards from us. They all had knives of various types in
their hands, and every single car tire was flat. Oh wonderful.

"How you doin' tonight, man?" the Latino
asked me.

I gauged each of them quickly by their
posture and how they carried themselves - confident, and no
strangers to violence. I didn't like my odds. "I was doing okay
until I found out we'd be taking a taxi home. How are you?"

All of them grinned. The Latino kid smiled
wide at his friends and said, "I like that guy - he's all polite
an' shit." He looked back to me. "We're doin' real good, man,
thanks for askin'. Hold up, wait a second; sorry, I take it back.
We do got one little problem."