All of this happened with a cold detachment, and the detective was moving toward the body with Paul’s daughter, her boyfriend, and her cousin close behind him. Taylor was shouting at him, but he couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears. He saw her eyes meet his, and he’d never seen her so scared.
She looked to the ground at the same time as he did, to see the black mass attach to his own faint shadow. It expanded behind him, writhing and flickering on the ground, until Paul wasn’t aware of his own movements.
He ran again, this time around the body and the people surrounding it. His legs carried him to the idling car, where he got in, hearing the faintest of shouts from the detective and his daughter, before any semblance of Paul Alenn was pushed out, and all that remained was a vessel.
The car drove away, heading toward town.
_______________
“Dad!” Taylor shouted as he drove away. She fell to her knees on the rocks, and quickly scrambled away from the corpse beside her hand. “Dad!”
Isabelle was screaming, and Brent’s hands were raised to his head, a blank stare across his face. “What do we do?” he asked, his voice unfamiliar to Taylor at that moment.
She’d seen the shadow moving for her dad too late; she didn’t have time to warn him. Where was he going? Then it struck her. “He’s going for Mom and Stevie. He has to be!” Taylor shouted, and Brent was helping her to her feet.
The detective hadn’t replied; he was staring at the dust and red taillights of his stolen car as they disappeared into the distance. Taylor was up, and she grabbed the man by the blazer collar. “Bartlett! Get it together. What do we do?”
“Did you see that?” he asked, and Taylor nodded.
“Now do you believe us?” she asked, and he grunted in affirmation.
“Where’s he going?” Tom Bartlett asked, and Isabelle answered for them.
“To my house. If this thing is controlling him, it’s going after Stevie. It wants the sacrifice, right, Taylor?” she asked in a squeaky voice.
“That’s right. I have to call Mom.” Taylor checked for her phone, but her pockets came up empty. “My phone’s in the car! Damn it! Isabelle, check yours!”
Brent spoke up, his eyes wide. “I have mine.” He pulled it out, and passed it to Taylor.
“What’s the number?” she asked her cousin.
Isabelle stood there, staring at the sky. “I don’t know! We don’t have a land line, because you know, no one does anymore. I have it programmed into my phone. I can’t remember her cell.”
“Your dad will!” Taylor started running toward the condo, where her uncle Darrel would be.
Detective Bartlett was cursing under his breath, and Taylor was the first to see the deputy. He was face-down on the ground, past the cast-iron gate leading to the old orchard.
Bartlett was at his side in seconds. “Rich, are you okay?” He rolled the man over, and Taylor used Brent’s phone flashlight feature to shine light on him. His throat was cut, and fresh blood had pooled on the rocks below him. Tom let him go and stood up quickly. “Watch each other’s backs, you guys. Whatever did this might still be around.”
Taylor didn’t think so. She’d seen it attach to her dad. Darrel’s truck was on the side of the road, and she shouted for her uncle. He ran toward them from the front of the building. Another form was getting up from the parking lot, and Taylor knew it had to be the big sheriff. “Uncle Tyler!” She was running for the man. He clutched his leg as she got close.
“Where’s your dad? Did he catch her? I heard a gunshot.” Tyler’s leg was a bloody mess, and Taylor had to fight to keep her last meal down.
She didn’t speak as she stared blankly at the sheriff’s torn calf and wondered how a shadow could cause so much damage. “The nest!” she yelled, and picked up the gun that had fallen free from Uncle Tyler’s grip as he’d been attacked.
“Where’s your dad?” Tyler asked, and Bartlett was there with Darrel, Brent, and Isabelle.
“I’m going after him. Darrel, you stay here and look for this nest.” Tom’s voice was rushed, out of breath.
“Keys are in the truck. Take my girl with you.” Darrel wrapped a protective arm around Isabelle and pulled her in, kissing her on the top of the head. “Honey, there’s a gun under my seat. Keep it close and stay in the truck when the detective gets to our house. Wait there. Got it?”
Isabelle was crying, but she nodded her understanding. Taylor tried to give her a supportive smile but saw the lifeless form of the deputy forty yards away and couldn’t muster the strength.
“Sheriff, you going to be okay to sit tight?” Tom Bartlett asked Tyler, and the big man said he would be.
“I’m calling for backup,” Tyler said, reaching for his radio. “Gilden will be thirty minutes out. I’ll have them send some cars to the Watsons’ too.”
And just like that, the detective was running with Isabelle behind him, toward Darrel’s truck.
Tyler called it in. Officer down. Another in need of medical assistance. “They’ll be here soon. We have to wait this out.”
Taylor was shaking her head. “No. The nest is here. If that thing’s with my dad, then the nest is open. We have to go in there. The kids might be alive.” When no one replied, she shouted. “We have to go now!”
Darrel pulled a gun from the back of his truck and passed it to Brent. “Know how to use this?”
Brent gave a forced smile. “Point and shoot?”
Darrel pressed the safety off and shrugged. “Pretty much.”
“I think you should wait.” Tyler was on his butt,
