“Don’t shoot. It’s me. The bastard is gone!” Paul said, though he was sure it came out a muffled bloody mess. He choked on his own blood, and tried to roll over.
Isabelle was above him, pointing a gun at his face. He struggled to lift his hand, but managed to do so in a defensive motion. “It’s me, Izzy. He’s gone. They must have found the nest.” His head fell sideways, and Paul hoped his daughter was okay. Maybe it left him to defend the orchard and attack the intruders. “We have to go to them,” he said, trying to get upright, and the detective was there, standing between a petrified Terri and Stevie. They were both crying, staring at Paul like he was the devil.
“If you’re really my husband, what’s something only you would know?” Terri asked, pushing Stevie behind her.
Paul watched the night sky and saw the cloud cover had finally broken. Stars littered the beyond, more appearing as the clouds dissipated with each passing breath. He spoke the words engrained in his memory for the last twenty years. “I was holding Taylor our first night at home, sitting in the rocking chair your father got us as a gift, and you looked at the two of us, tears in your eyes.” Paul swallowed blood as his gaze shifted to the moon, a glowing half crescent. He could hear Terri crying beside him.
“You told me to be the shining light for our daughter. To never let darkness touch her, and to protect her with every ounce of myself.” He felt his wife’s cool hand meet his forehead, and she leaned over him, kissing his cheek.
“It’s you,” she said, and Stevie was beside him, clutching at his arm, when everything went dark.
Epilogue
Tom sipped his coffee as he drove to the farm north of Gilden. A week had passed since the events that forever changed his life. He laughed bitterly as he thought things over. Had it really changed anything? They’d found the kids, or what was left of them. There was no sign of the creature Darrel Watson had burned, but Tom hadn’t hesitated to fill out the paperwork, claiming Emma Jeanne, aka Emma Prince by her driver’s license, and formerly Emma Smith, had abducted the children and killed two of them. Tom and the local sheriff’s department had cornered her at her residence on the previous Saturday night, but she’d managed to kill Deputy Rich Stringer before shooting herself in the head, ending her reign of terror.
The residents of Red Creek seemed to understand that more was at play, but even the witnesses who’d seen Paul Alenn raving down his sister’s street hadn’t spoken a word about it. They were satisfied with a resolution, and already Sheriff Tyler was claiming the mood around the town was uplifted.
Everyone had turned out for Rich’s funeral, and Tom had spent some time with the Alenns and Watsons. Beth Watson had suffered only minor injuries from striking her house, a mild concussion, and Paul was going to be just fine. Tom couldn’t help but like the horror author, even after seeing the demon or whatever the hell this “shadow” was that had possessed him.
Tom knew there was far more to the story than he understood, but he was happy to let it stay buried. Red Creek was safe from a long-term threat, and for that Tom Bartlett was grateful.
He pulled off to the side of the road, taking a deep breath of spring country air. He hadn’t smelled anything so fresh in years, long before his time in Chicago, and for the first time since he’d arrived in Gilden, Tom felt good. Not only good, but fantastic.
Maybe he could do this country living thing after all. His phone buzzed, and he took a look. It was Tyler. He seemed to have made it his personal mission to befriend Tom, as if he sensed the detective was in desperate need of company. The text even went as far as suggesting a double date with Tyler’s wife and one of her coworkers. Tom’s finger hovered over his phone’s screen before he sent the reply.
He smiled as he pulled back onto the highway and didn’t stop for the rest of the day.
_______________
Taylor closed her door and stood outside her car, waiting for Mrs. Hayes to get out of the passenger seat. The woman was skeptical of everything, like Taylor’s news was too much to handle, and she might end up in a room beside her son at the Gilden Psychiatric Hospital if she went inside.
Taylor had to wave her out, but eventually, the forty-year-old mom emerged and walked toward her. “Are you sure he’s okay?” she asked.
“He’s been through a lot, but I swear he isn’t crazy. He saw what he saw, and so have I. It’s gone now. He’s going to be fine,” Taylor said. She’d considered withholding the total truth and had refrained from some of it, which hadn’t been hard, since the woman didn’t seem to want to hear any facts. Her head was buried deep in the sand, but Trevor wasn’t meant to stay there, and Taylor needed his mom to come sign him out.
They walked together in silence, and the sun cast its glorious rays onto them, making Taylor wish she’d left her sunglasses on. Her thoughts drifted to Brent, who’d spent two nights in the hospital after last Saturday’s attack. He was different now: darker, brooding, and he seemed more protective, like he always needed to be around her. It had been hard to escape him for the day, but he’d finally given in. She loved him so much, but now that it was all over, she knew their relationship was changed forever.
Two days in Red
