They fell.
The hood tore back off her head and her hair whipped wild in the wind. Her eyes spread wide as the pavement rushed to greet her. “Spant, you plum fool!” she screamed. “Ah can’t fly!” His jacket flapped around her body as they dropped. The buildings blurred as they rushed past her.
LJ’s heart pounded as she reached for him.
Spant grabbed her arm. He pulled her into him. “Plum fool?” he said and wrapped his arms around her waist.
She felt his chest pressed against her back and the strain in his voice.
“I can survive this fall,” he said, spinning his body so that now he was behind her. “You will not.”
She cut her eyes to him. “Ah know that!” she yelled. “Tell me somethin’ Ah don’t know.”
CPD stood near the edge of the building watching them fall.
Spant grabbed her right arm, pointing it up. “Cast a shadow, LJ,” he barked.
“Mah powers are on the fritz tonight,” she said. She felt his body stiffen beneath her. His grip tightened around her waist. He was in pain, she knew it.
He looked below him. “We are running out of time,” he said.
His hand shook as another wave of pain surged through him. “You can do this, LJ.”
LJ threw out her right arm. Black tendrils circled it briefly before fading. “No!” she said in frustration.
Spant looked again. They were getting dangerously close to a truck parked on the street below them. “You can… do this. Breathe,” he said, struggling to speak through the pain.
She glanced at him. Pain had carved itself through his face but his arm never loosened around her waist.
LJ inhaled and raised her right hand again. “Please,” she begged under her breath.
Black tendrils spilled from her fingers. Her hands reached in the building’s direction. The shadow snapped toward the scaffolding and latched onto the metal. Their bodies yanked upwards. The scaffolding tilted forward with a loud metallic screech.
Relief flashed in her eyes as her body relaxed. “We just need tah…”
The shadow slid off and vanished.
“NOOOooo!” she screamed. They fell again.
He grabbed her arm. She clutched his arm wrapped around her waist. Her fingers dug into his arm.
His eyes tracked the metal move once more.
“Breathe through it.”
Part of the scaffolding gave.
Her eyes bounced from the truck to the metal chasing them. The truck was bigger than before. She could almost see the faces of the people staring up at them. Metal groaned overhead as a section tore free.
She nodded once and closed her eyes. “Hold on tah me!” she said, throwing up both arms.
She felt something inside of her snap. LJ opened her eyes. They had gone black.
She screamed. Black tendrils crawled around her arms. They thickened into larger shadows as they raced over her body. Her arms shook, and she held her breath.
LJ gritted her teeth as dark shadows poured out of her eyes.
“NOW!!”
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!
Shadows enveloped them. People around screamed and dashed for cover.
Spant’s back brushed the top of the box truck as they vanished into the shadows.
The scaffolding crashed into the truck. The windows and windshield shattered under the weight of the metal.
***
"In a nearby apartment, Meva turned on the sofa. Her arm fell off and hit the floor. “Sorry, Andre,” she mumbled.
Her hand searched the floor. She realized he wasn’t there and peeled back an edge of her eye mask. “Andre,” she mumbled, propping herself up on her elbows. She sat upright. Her eyes flicked to the clock above the television. “Nearly 6 am,” she muttered.
Meva tossed the sheet aside. She kicked her feet out and rose from the sofa. She stretched and walked around the room. The first thing she noticed was the empty space where Andre’s shoes should’ve been.
“Hmm. No shoes,” she said. “He is a stickler for shoes not being worn in the house.”
She strolled down the short hallway and peeked her head into the bathroom. He wasn’t inside it. She looked at the door to his second bedroom. No light glowed beneath the door. “He’s not in his office.”
Meva walked back to Zayden’s door. She cracked it open. He was still asleep. She closed the door quietly.
With her heightened senses, she would’ve heard it ring, but she checked her phone anyway. There were no missed calls. She smiled. “Well, well,” she said, walking into the kitchen. “I guess Andre got that itch scratched last night.”
Zayden walked out of his room, yawning. The clatter of dishes in the kitchen made him glance toward the living room. “Morning, Meva,” he said stretching his arms. “Dad normally makes breakfast.”
Meva pulled out a carton of eggs from the refrigerator. “Morning Zayden,” she smiled. “If he was here, I’m sure he would.”
Zayden looked around, shocked. “Dad’s not here?”
“Don’t go getting worried,” she said, cracking eggs into a bowl. “Last time I saw him he had showered, changed into his nice clothes and said he had to go see someone.”
“You think he went to see Lila?”
“I think Andre got laid and is still getting some even as we speak,” she said.
“Meva,” he said.
She looked at him and smiled. “What? I’m just keeping it real. I think I’m jealous.”
“Aunt Meva,” he said covering his ears with his hands. “Dad wouldn’t like you talking like this around me. Besides you are my aunt.”
“I’m not related to you or Andre. He is just someone I took in when he was younger.” She grabbed a pot from a cabinet. “Lord knows I gave that man every opportunity.”
“Meva!” Zayden snapped. “That’s my dad.”
“Your point?” she asked. “I should have been your stepmother.”
She walked him out of the kitchen. “Go take a shower while I make you breakfast.”
She called out to him before he disappeared into the bathroom. “Don’t worry about Andre, Zayden. I’m sure he’s alright.”
Waiting until the bathroom door closed completely, she pulled out her phone and dialed Andre’s number. “Come on, Andre. Don’t make a liar out of me,” she whispered to herself.
***
At the scene of the scaffolding accident, Camillah Rashand stood just outside the yellow tape while her cameraman filmed the wreckage. The box truck looked crushed like a kicked-in tin can. Glass glittered across the street. Above them, the scaffolding still hung crooked from the side of the building like it was one strong gust away from crashing the rest of the way down.
Detective Vance stood near the rooftop’s edge. The dead swarnlings lay not far from him.They were being bagged by men in containment suits. A female officer walked up behind him. “How is officer Sparks, detective?”
He turned to her. “Sparks is still under protective custody.” He pointed toward the dead creatures. “As long as their master is still roaming free, that is where she will stay.”
“Understood,” she said. She nodded to the dead swarnlings. “What are we supposed to do with the carcasses?”
“Burn them.”
“They say Spant and an unknown female saved the officers lives last night.”
Vance walked to the edge of the building. He looked at the damaged scaffolding and the demolished box truck. “He’s been doing that a lot lately.”
She followed him and his gaze. “But caused damage in the process, sir,” she added.
Vance looked at her. “Which would you rather have? No damage and dead officers or what we have now?”
Vance glanced down and spotted Camillah watching him from the street. “Great. Who called in the news crew?”
***
Just at that moment, Camillah turned her attention to a city official entering a building across the street. “Councilman Wex!” she shouted, running across the busy street. Her cameraman ran behind her. The councilman ignored her calls. He was about to enter the building when she asked, “What is the city doing to keep the good citizens of Carrow safe from the Husk Killer?” She walked up the steps. “Sir, how many more innocent people will have to die before the city deals with this serial killer?”
“I want to assure the people of Carrow that this administration and the Carrow Police Department are working around the clock to bring those responsible to justice.”
She turned to her cameraman. “Did you get it?”
He nodded.
“Good,” she said as she quickly straightened her hair. “Turn to me.” She inhaled. “There you have it. Councilman Wex says the city is doing all they can to put an end to the Husk Killer. But meanwhile, another member of CPD was murdered last night. Several other officers were injured. If not for the vigilante Spant, there would have been more dead bodies for the coroner to tag.”
The cameraman zoomed in on the damaged box truck. “According to witness accounts, Spant may have been seriously injured after falling from the rooftop above us. I ask you, if he is dead—or worse, too injured to fight, who will protect the city from the Husk Killer?”
***