Jim stood silently before Rich Fenton. Both men stared at each other for a time, then Jim lifted his hands forward, wrists together. Rich studied the face of the man who stood before him. To him, Jim seemed to embody a quiet strength. A man who had nothing to prove and would pour gas over himself and strike a match before hurting someone. Gentleness.
Now, the face looked weak, defeated.
Rich stood up. Reaching for his handcuffs, he rolled them gently over the wrists that were presented to him.
"Jim. You are under arrest for murder."
Jim looked toward the floor.
"You have the right to remain silent. If you give up this right, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you by the court. You have the right to have this attorney present during questioning."
Jim looked Rich full in the face."You have the right to be an asshole. If you give up this right, I will call you an asshole."
Rich shook his head. "Jim, you are only making this harder for yourself."
"Harder? How could it be any harder? I'm under arrest for six murders."
Rich ignored this last comment."Do you understand your rights?"
Rich pushed rhe other man bodily toward the hallway. "We'll talk about this at the station."
"It won't do you any good"
"Why's that?", inquired the officer.
"You won't like the answers."
Dregar turned his face towards the cop.
His eyes were silver.
The patrol car came to halt in front of the St. Thomas police station. The whole trip had not been broken by any conversation within the patrol car. Rich stepped to the rear door, opening it to allow Jim to step out.
Rich pushed Jim again, this time toward the doors. The men halted before the doors, which were shut, and Rich moved to open the door.
"Allow me." Jim said, monotonously.
Fenton looked back at Jim, to be greeted by the flaming red that engulfed the eyes of his friend. The doors swung open as if by unseen
forces. Rich recoiled away, then fell into cautious step behind the person that he had arrested.
As they passed the duty officer, Jim turned his head back.
"Don't forget to check in the evidence."
Rich fumbled with the Desert Eagle, then placed it on the counter.
"Tag and bag that, it's evidence. And, whatever you do, don't let it out of your sight,Tim, things have a habit of disappearing lately",Jim smirked.
The duty officer looked up into Jim's face to see the gaze shift from crimson to silver. The officer started at the sight.
"How did you know my name?", he asked, incredulously.
Jim just smiled.
Tim then turned to Rich, with an enquiring gaze. Fenton could only shrug.
As Jim proceeded down the hallway, the duty officer murmered to Rich, "Real psycho, huh.?"
Fenton paused for a moment, then turned back to Tim.
"Psychos' eyes don't glow and change colour, no matter how crazy they are."
Guiding Jim into a small room, occupied by a single cell and a desk, Rich motioned him beyond the bars.
Jim obliged, hearing the cage close behind.
He sat down on the cot. Opposite him stood Fenton, clutching the bars with an agonized motion. Fenton looked back at the man sitting on the bed. The eyes of that man were penetrating. Looking normal, except for the red glow. This glow did not overpower the eyes. Instead, all the features were there, just they were piercingly bright. And they were looking directly at him.
"Jim. Do you understand your rights?"
Jim never shifted his gaze. " No."
Rich whirled around and let his head down to meet a raised hand, rubbing his temple."Why not?"
"Because. I'm allowed to have a lawyer to go before the judge, but I don't have one, and have to go before a judge to get a lawyer, that is contradicting." came the reply.
Rich sat down at the chair. "Jim. Why did you kill those six men?"
"Why does anyone kill anyone? I don't feel proud. But it was justice."
Fenton leaned forward."Justice? What justice? You at least, will get a fair trial, unlike your victims."
Jim threw his head back and laughed mockingly."Yes, I get the fair trial, unlike my victims. Unlike their victim."
"What are you talking about?" Fenton asked.
"Caroline Johnson. Where was her trial. I only gave the trial for her death. I avenged her. What about the many kids that they have killed with their drugs. Who gave any thought to those lives that they have taken. The thought of getting rid of the scum that prey upon the young and the old of society have no right to exist. You need not defend them."
The eyes burned in an intense light.
Rich felt uncomfortable, again.
The phone rang. Fenton picked the receiver up.
Talking for a moment, he then returned the receiver to the cradle.
"I have to leave. Have an appointment to keep."
Rich hated these snotty comebacks. " You can keep in there for a while, Jim."
Fenton heard a more evil voice.
"And what makes you think I won't break out?"
The policeman pointed to the upper corner of the room, where a camera sat, pointing directly at the cell. Rich smiled assuredly, then opened the door.
"Your going to be busy tonight."
Rich turned back.
"Why is that?"
"Lots of problems out there."
Hesitating for a moment, Fenton felt compelled to ask.
"What are you?"
The reply was cold.
The eyes were bright crimson.
"I am the Rising."
Rich entered the main floor of the library. The building was a large, two story frame building with open beams. Many shelves, filled with various books lined the walls.
"Hey, Brad. Are you around?" Rich shouted into the interior of the building.
The room was not occupied at all, and his voice seemed to bounce around, mockingly.
'Are you around. Around. Around.'
Rich felt uncomfortable from the seemly void that confronted him. This was relieved by the appearance of a small figure from the office behind the return desk. Rich recognized the person as Brad Brown, the librarian.
"Brad! What's new around here?"
The lithe figure smiled. "Not a hell of a lot. Quiet as a tomb around here."
Brad was only about five and a half feet tall. Black hair, peppered with grey covered his head and face. Over all, he presented a friendly, fatherlike appearance.
"What can I do for you tonight, Rich?"
"Well. I want to look at your newspaper clippings."
"For that you will have to come back here," the other man motioned.
Leading the way, the older man showed Rich the necessary material.
All the clippings were stored on microfilm, and Rich would have to go through the required hunt to find what he was after.
"Go to her." Brad said.
After the librarian left, Fenton pulled the file on crime. Immediately, a subheading popped onto the screen. Rich panned the cursor down until he found the heading "Murder". Immediately, the screen filled with headings from murders that had occurred within a thousand mile range. Rich found the selections to be very thorough.
The title "Suspects" showed. After selecting this, a list scrolled across the screen. Fenton followed it until the word "Unidentified" appeared.
Again, Fenton selected the heading.
Slowly, he read down the list that displayed. Several eyewitness accounts of various suspects displayed. There was nothing unusual.
"$%^&, this is better layed out than our computers."
The policeman continued the scroll. The typical descriptions kept showing up.
It was then that one description caught Fenton's eye.
"Red-eyed, no face."
Rich shuddered. He had found what he was looking for.
Recovering from the initial shock, Fenton began to check the cases involving this description. Many of the stories went back to when the newspaper was founded, in 1876, when St.Thomas was a mining town. Rich shook his head in disbelief as he scrolled more clippings by. It was unbelievable.
It was then that he was caught, as if someone had pulled his every attention to the screen. A story of one old man in 1936 who had witnessed an "occurrence" and described the perpetrator. He only called it "The Rising".
Rich read on. The old-timer described it as being from hell, a mythological abomination. This snapped Fenton's mind.
The policeman stood back from the desk. He called out to the librarian.
" Brad, do you have anything on mythology in here?"
"Good selection." returned Brown, who motioned that Rich should follow him toward the proper selections.
The row of books in which the two men walked was to the left hand side of the building, as you faced from the door, and about two-thirds of the way to back of the building. Entering the proper row of books, Brad waved his arm in an all-encompassing motion.
"Pick what you will. I'll leave you to whatever you find. Rich thanked Brad. $%^&, he sounded like a Shakespeare poem. Turning his attention to the row of books before him, Rich traced, with his finger, the titles of what shelved before him. One book caught his interest. "European Mythology."
He pulled out this book and turned to the index. His finger traced down names of which he had no idea.
Rich read through the names. One struck him as curious.
This name wove into Rich's mind. Thierriessen.
The words etched into the wall.
What Jim had said to him.
What the news article had said.
Rich thumbed to the page that was indicated in the index. These words faced him, along with the lithograph of the creature.
Thierriessen was a creature, although little known, that was, perhaps, the most fearful of the mythological creatures.
Of Celtic origin, Thierriessen was virtually indistinguishable from a human in most cases. However, if pushed into extreme emotion the eyes of the creature were known to glow. If the emotion was pleasant, then the colour was silver. If the emotion was hostility, then the colour was crimson. If pushed to extreme hostility, Thierriessen would change form
to the above lithograph, drawn in the eighteenth century. All of the creatures were borne of human and, on a day undetermined,but described as the day of maturity, would have to choose their destiny.
Hence the existence of both good and bad Thierriessen.
The two were similar in character in that both are capable of shifting an object, or themselves, in time/space continuum. However,the red Thierriessen are more physical, or violent, which tend to tap their reserves of ability. The silver, on the other hand, tend to be logical, gentle, thinking of ways to defeat an enemy. Legend has it, that there was no way to defeat a Thierriessen that was silver. Red could be defeated by exhausting them, then taking measures that were applicable to a normal human. It should be noted that an enraged silver and a red are difficult to distinguish from each other, except that the silver's eyes will be normal except for the colour of the very features, whereas the red will be a solid, featureless blaze.
Rich looked upon the lithograph on the opposite page. The creature that stared back was one of a child's nightmare. Although in black and white, the illustration seemed to evoke an incredible feeling of emotion. The eyes were all powerful, burning off the page. The creature had a thin, sharply pointed face, atop the equally thin body. The legs resembled goat
'This looks like the devil.'
Rich read down the text further.
Thierriessen must choose their destiny at the day of maturity. The silver is harmless to righteous humans, however, it calls for justice where due. The red is unfair, unjust, should be cast out if met.
Rich became acutely aware of eyes upon him. Raising his gaze, he saw Brad Brown's face.
"You find what you were looking for?"
Rich nodded."Yeh. I learned alot."
"I hope it was worth keeping me here well past closing time."
Fenton fell into step behind the librarian as they moved toward the exit. Rich broke the silence once again.
Opening the book to the page marked by his finger, he asked "Brad, do you believe in any of these creatures?"
Brown took a quick look. A smile of amusement crossed his face.
"Mythology is supposed to have a basis in fact. I researched all leads I could, and never once ran face to face with one of these creatures."
"So you don't believe in them?"
"Believing in them leads to a desperate, poor soul", Brad said. Then noticing what page Rich had opened, continued, "Thierriessen? That has to be the classic Hollywood creature. Good and bad. What a joke."
Fenton closed the book. "You seem to have researched these creatures well."
"That I have."
Brad motioned the policeman into his office. There, he reached into a file cabinet, producing what looked like an old diary.
"Read it. " motioned Brown.
Fenton turned the book open.
The text of the diary had the same description as what was in the old news clipping. From there, the writing became more desperate.
I know what it is. I see it. I will find it.
Then the final entry.
Where are you?
Fenton was somewhat stunned, as he handed the book back. "That is very, uh, interesting."
"Indeed," returned Brad.
Fenton was curious, "How did you obtain this?"
"Oh,that wasn't hard, just a little research."
"Do you know what happened to this guy?"
Brown smirked, "yep, insane asylum. He said he had positive proof of this things' existence."
"So who was he?", Fenton pressed.
"Same guy that gave that interview in '36.", the librarian paused, then turned to face Fenton, "he was my father." The policeman looked down at the book in his hands. "Will you tell me what the hell I have in my jail cell, then?"
Fenton and Brown entered the police building. It was Brad who broke the quiet of the air.
"You're trying to tell me that you think you have one of these bastards trapped in your jail cell." he said,matter-of-factly.
Rich turned partially to shoot a quick look at the other man, who was following him. Turning his gaze forward, the policeman halted before the door to the room that contained the single cell.
He turned the knob.
The door swung inward and the librarian stepped past Fenton and entered the room.
"So what am I supposed to see?"
Rich entered the room.
He shot a quick glance around the room and locked onto the cell, which was now empty.
"I tell you, Brad. It was right in there. Red eyes and all." The older man looked back."Well even if you had caught one of those, trying to hold it in a standard jail was futile. Myth has it that those creatures can change their time-space position. Therefore, he just had to think himself out of the current time."
Rich slumped down into the chair that stood behind the desk.
"Is there anyway of holding him?"
The answer was predictable." No.Boy you don't know what you got yourself into."
Rich watched the other man shake his head in amusement, as he left the room, leaving Fenton to contemplate the current situation.
Rich stood and walked around the desk, towards the cell.
Stopping immediately in front of the cage,scanning the bars for any sign of them being forced. There was none. The policeman shook his head in disbelief. His childhood friend was a mythological creature. Fenton searched his mind for the answer, his gaze falling on the security camera that stared back at him from the wall, immediately above the door.
The camera. A nervous reaction shot up his back to his neck as he ran out of the room. His destination was the security desk.
The woman fell on the floor with a sickening thud. Moving toward her, the man looked down at her, a satisfied smirk on his face. He had been drinking heavily, and tonight was the same as many before.
"Don't you try and tell me what to do, *****. When I get home I expect you to have this @#$%^&* house clean and my dinner ready."
The woman looked up at him. Her face was bleeding, and beginning to swell.
The man made a motion to grab her, intending to pull her up.
She recoiled, trying to get away, when her gaze locked on a figure by the door. She let out a muted scream.
The man turned to follow her gaze.
The eyes were brilliant crimson.
The other moved quickly, one hand siezing his throat.
The man released his grip on the woman.
The other turned its eyes to the woman, as if examining her, then turned back to stare the man still clutched in its grasp.
"Do you love her?", it inquired.
There was no reply.
"I asked you a question."
"Yes, I love her", choked the man.
"Well, love hurts."
The other reached its free hand to the man's chest.
The man screamed in agony.
The other spoke again.
"I don't think you are entirely honest. What should we do?"
The man panted, "$%^& man, I think you broke my ribs."
The other began to grow impatient.It wrenched the man's head towards the woman.
"Tell her you're sorry, and mean it."
"*#$% man, I need a doctor, screw her."
The crimson eyes narrowed.
The other released its grip on the man's throat.
He hunched over, clutching his chest.
The other turned to the woman.
She had drawn herself against the wall and panted as in a state of total hysteria. Tears streamed down her face.
The images of her pain shot through the other's mind.It saw the years of abuse she had been through.
It turned back to the man.
"How about a vacation? Say Hawaii. You'll be taking the volcano tour."
The man's form shimmered, then dissappeared.
The other turned back to the woman, who was now quietly sobbing.
Approaching her, it knelt down and gently lifted her head.
Locking its gaze to hers, it said, "I once had someone like you. I would never have hurt her, yet there are some that always have ones like you. Why did you stay?"
The woman seemed to calm down.
She replied, "I loved him."
The other laughed quietly.
"Think woman, why are you lying here?"
The woman fell silent, maybe taken aback by those words.
The eyes had now softened to a brilliant silver.
"You have broken ribs, a broken nose, and some bruises. There's your love."
It moved its hands slowly over her face, then proceeded down her chest.
The woman slowly rose to her feet.
The other took her hand and guided her to a wall mirror.
It turned her to face her reflection. All her bruises were gone.
"Next time, choose the guy that's shy. He probably won't hurt you."
The woman turned to face the other.
There was no one there.
The desk was empty, but Rich knew that the surveillance system was all automatically stored on video tape. The desk face was populated by half a dozen television screens, and a number of control buttons. Rich sat in the chair, facing the screens. On the monitors, he could see all of the areas that the closed circuit television system monitored. The prisoners in the main holding area were on one. another showed a couple of constables exiting the back door. The only one that Rich was interested in
was the one that showed the now empty cell room that he had
locked Jim Dregar-or-whatever-it-was in. On the console before him, Rich turned a knob that was labeled with the same titles as were the video screens. Rich selected the label that corresponded with the cell room. To the right of this knob were buttons that were labelled the same as the controls of a video recorder.
Fenton selected the one marked "Rewind".
The children were out way too late for someone their age.
The oldest was perhaps thirteen, the other, eleven.
They had cute blonde locks cascading by their faces.
They were sisters.
A man stumbled towards them.
"Hey, ladies, want to party?"
The two girls stopped in their tracks, frightened by this older man.
"Oh, come on, let's have some fun."
The girls drew close to each other,looking for comfort from each other.
"Don't you think I would treat you well?"
The man approached them, blocking their passage.
He reached out and grabbed the elder girl.
"Come on, let's have some fun."
The girl began to cry out, her fists striking the man ineffectively.
"I don't think she's interested"
The man turned toward the voice.
He was greeted by the burning red eyes.
"What the fu.."
His words were cut off, as his motion was frozen as if paralyzed.
The other turned to the girls, the eyes now silver.
It looked at them, then turned to face them.
"There are a lot of bad people out here",gestureing back to the man, who still held the statue-like pose.
"You shouldn't be out this late."
The elder girl spoke.
"Our parents don't give a $%^&.They don't let us do what we want."
"Maybe they do give a $%^&, and don't want you to hurt yourselves."
"We know what we want."
The eyes flared to a dull red.
"Ahh, yes, young women. Puberty hits, then you know all the answers. Did it ever cross your mind that maybe they are right and you're wrong?"
The girls recoiled, the elder spoke.
"This is some joke my parents are doing. Why don't you just *#$% off."
The other approached, the features of the face now indistinguished. The sisters began to move away from this figure.
"Yep, It's a big joke to scare you."
They continued to backpedal, as the figure resumed its approach.
"Do I look like a halloween costume, some special effect?"
The two girls then saw what they would never forget again.
The figure before them was completely bathed in red light.
The face had no features.
The rest of the anatomy was gaunt, almost animal-like.
"Maybe they don't want you to run into something like me."
The face, and the body began to reform to a human shape.
"Or maybe, unlike you, they have seen what this world is like."
There was no answer.
The eyes resumed the silver glow.
"You will obey your parents."
The other reached out to the girls, then turned to the still frozen form of the man.
"General population, skinner."
The man's form shimmered, then disappeared.
The screen of the cell room was blanked.
After a short time, Rich pressed "Stop" then "Play". The screen came alive with events that had preceeded in the day.
The tape had rewound too far for his requirements, so Rich pushed the " Fast Forward" button. The screen was filled with the day's events, all running at high speed.
Rich saw himself bring Jim into the room, lock him in the cell ,then leave.
It was here, Rich released the control. The screen action slowed to normal. The cell occupied Rich's eyes. Within the bars sat a man that looked completely defenseless. The figure sighed, as it sat on the cot. There was no motion for several minutes, then Jim sat upright on the cot, staring directly into the surveillance camera. Rich noted that his eyes had changed from red to silver. Jim had then got up and moved to the bars, wrapping his fingers around the metal. His head dropped. Rich watched the screen intently. Suddenly, Jim backed up a step from the bars, smiled
directly into the camera, and walked forward. His form shimmered slightly as he passed through the bars. Rich sat up in his chair. Jim's form walked out of range of the camera. Rich found the "Fast Forward" button. Again, the screen scanned forward, until the point where Rich and the librarian entered the room. Rich released the control and watched intently. The two men moved around on the screen. Rich didn't notice anything out of the
ordinary until he saw himself plop into the chair. It was then that another figure moved into the camera's view. This body walked to the corner, by the cell and turned to face the other men. Rich leaned into the screen. The person standing beside the cell was Jim Dregar.Rich shifted the selector knob back to "Normal" and stood up from the bench. His mind was awhirl with what he had seen.
Jim was standing in that same room that they had occupied only minutes before.
The other walked the girls up to the door and rang the bell There was little delay in the door opening. The mother ran out, clutching the sisters.
"Where the hell have you been?", the mother asked, "don't you know I've been worried sick."
The father showed to the door, his eyes full of tears. He fell to his knees, and hugged the girls.
"Thank God you're safe."
The eldest girl spoke, almost mechanically.
"This man brought us home."
She turned to point to no one.
The mother took the girls inside, leaving the father to look outside.
The father heard the conversation inside. "Don't you ever lie to me again. And don't you ever pull this kind of bullshit either."
"But mom, he was there."
That was the older daughter speaking.
"Mom, he was an angel."
That was the younger daughter.
The father sighed.
As he was about to reenter the house, he saw the glowing eyes. "Thanks guy, I always believed there were those like you."
"Your more than welcome."
The eyes faded away.
At the police station ,Rich turned and walked purposefully towards the cell room.
"Oh, Mr.Johnson" Caroline's father started, leaning up on his elbow.
He had been tossing about, laying in bed the last hour. The fact that his daughter was now dead weighed upon him. How could he have been so ignorant of what he had done? "Mr. Johnson", the voice rang out behind him. Ed Johnson turned toward the voice, to see the eyes.
"Who the hell are you?"
The faceless crimson-eyed figure moved from the shadows to the centre of the room. It was the other.
"Do you think that your regrets can justify your actions?"
Johnson watched as the other sat in a chair across from him.
"I didn't think it would go this far."
"Ahh, cause and effect. You didn't think your stupidity would affect your daughter."
By now, Ed Johnson was shaking violently.
"Who are you?", he enquired again.
The other rose and proceeded toward Caroline's father, reaching out a hand to grasp the man's forearm.
"Time for a holiday.", the figure said.
Fenton reached the door in a few moments, pausing before reaching for the knob. His movement was futile. The door swung open before him. Rich stared blankly into the room. He could not see any sign of life within, however, he stepped into the room.
"Jim? Are you in here?"
Rich heard a laugh. This sounded as though it were a hundred miles away. A voice fell upon the policeman's ears.
"See you at the hotel."
"Where are you taking me?", Dave Johnson asked. The other merely smirked.
"Time to see reality.", It replied.
Johnson looked on, to see his daughter's house.
The men were forcing themselves inside. She was on the floor.
They were raping her. They were laughing.
"Oh my God ", Johnson exclaimed.
"Not very nice, Old man" the other stated,"just watch."
The scene continued.
The man pulled the knife It dropped to her throat, cutting deeply.
The blood sprayed forth. She was taken to the car. The fire.
Ed Johnson was sitting on his bed, breathing heavily. The other sat across from him.
Johnson didn't reply.
"You do have a way out of this", the other spoke.
"What way is that?", spoke the man.
The crimson face softened as the features returned, yet the eyes retained the red glow.The face turned away for a moment.
Rich followed phantom footfalls as they crossed the room, heading toward the door. Fenton began moving toward the door, only to have it slam in his face. He tried the doorknob, finding it impossible to turn. Turning over to the desk, Rich pushed the talk button. He was returned quickly with an answer.
"Thompson. Get out to the patrol car. I'll be there in a minute."
Thompson, a tall, slim man, turned away from his desk intercom and made his way down the corridor to the parking lot. In the hallway, he became acutely aware that he was being watched. The feeling became overpowering by the time he reached the locker bank. Turning completely around, the young patrolman backpedalled toward the parking lot door. He felt the uneasiness that seemed to be running down the hall after him. It was upon him and then moved past.
He breathed a sigh and whirled to face forward.
Before him stood the figure, maybe two feet away. The eyes were bright
"Who the hell are you?" Thompson asked as he reached for his service revolver.
The answer was physical.
The locker door before him opened suddenly, violently.
The force of the impact caused the patrolman's knees to buckle, and he fell to the floor. The man was hefted into the locker, and the door was closed.
The lock snapped into place.
The figure turned to exit the door to the parking lot.
"Return", spoke the other.
Johnson looked up."What did you say?"
The other turned, holding the gun in its hand.It racked the action and offered it to the man.
Johnson studied the firearm he now held.
The other turned away, moving toward the door.
It paused, turning back to Johnson.
"There's one cartridge in there. Make the best of it."
By the time the report of the gun sounded, the other was outside. It merely looked back. "Burn."
The house exploded into flame.
Rich had tried the door several times, to no avail. He was thinking that he should have told Thompson to come and open the door. He would when Rich didn't arrive at the car soon. Rich turned and ran his hand through his hair. A noise behind him made him turn. Wheeling about, Fenton saw the door was ajar. He walked over to the exit and pulled the door open, exiting down the hallway. The room beyond was strangely silent. Obviously, the other men must be upstairs, in the lunchroom. Fenton continued down the corridor to the rear doors. Opening them, he saw that
his patrol car was running, and Thompson was behind the wheel.
"Hey, new *****."
The female talking was the leader of the gang.
Before her stood a comparatively small girl.
She was about to endure the sadistic ceremony of 'jumping in'.
"Are you ready, new *****?"
The smaller one nodded.
"Is the tape rolling?", the leader asked of the one that was holding a camcorder. There was an affirmative nod.
"Then let's begin."
The rest of the girls began beating the smaller one. The blows from fists, feet, knees, fell her to the ground. The assault resumed, the methods more violent. Kicking, jumping, the blows did not cease.
"Oh, this is good", spoke the one with the camera.
"Its @#$%^&* great, you mean", returned the leader.
The beating continued until a couple of the girls heard the one with the camcorder murmer "What the fu..." They turned to where she was looking.
The red eyes flashed twice in the shadows where the girls now stared.
The figure moved from the shadows, the crimson glow consuming
the entire body now. The other cast its gaze toward the girl lying on the ground, still writhing from the beating she had received.
"I don't think this is very lady-like", it said.
The other shifted its gaze to the rest of the group.
Most of the gang, save the leader had backed away. The leader did not.
"We got you on camera, bastard", she uttered.
The other turned toward the lens.
"Oh,no, I'm caught on tape", it held a hand to its mouth, then continued, " tough when the camera-man isn't here."
The girl with the cam-corder shimmered, then vanished.
The cam-corder fell to the ground, still recording.
The other turned its attention back to the leader.
"Do we understand each other now?"
The girl said nothing, but proceeded to pull a small pistol from her beltline.
Levelling it at the other's head, she exclaimed,"I don't know who you are, but you're gonna die."
The other smirked, withdrawing temporarily to the shadows.
All the girl could see was the eyes.
"You really have no clue what you're doing,do you?"
"*#$% you", the girl returned, squeezing the trigger. The firearm reported twice, causing the eyes to fade. The girl turned away in self-satisfaction.
The figure stepped from the shadows.
It now assumed the stature of a grotesque half-man. It held out its hand, causing the pistol to appear within. "How quaint."
It walked over to the camera.
"Tough piece, broken case and still running."
The other looked to the gang-leader, then the other gang members.
"The urban jungle is what you hunt in."
The other turned to walk away, then spun around to face them.
"How about a real jungle?"
The entire gang faded.
Rich strode over to the car, opened the door and got in.
"Head to Ken's Inn, Thompson."
The figure in the driver's seat didn't move. Rich looked over at that figure.
The face was turned away.
Rich put his hand on the figure's shoulder.
"Hey Thompson. You okay?"
The figure turned to face Rich. It was Jim.
The eyes were red again. Rich pulled his hand away in horror.
"How you doing, Rich?" Jim said, "Time for a ride."
Jim broke into maniacal laughter, as he slammed the gear selector into drive and punched the accelerator.
The man had way too much to drink.
He was weaving across the lanes of the highway. Several vehicles swerved to avoid him. The vehicle continued to weave, and pick up speed.
The man dozed in and out of conciousness. "Now!"
The man jarred alert by that voice.
He saw the tree before him.
The front of the vehicle crumpled.
The patrol car lurched down the drive, and pressed into the traffic that ran on the main road past the police station. The accelerator was pushed once more, the force of the acceleration drew Rich back in his seat.
"Having fun yet?"
Rich didn't answer the query. Instead, his mind searched for the next plan of action.
The figure in the drivers' seat didn't acknowledge.
"Jim. Why are you doing this?"
The figure seemed to think for a minute. The glowing red eyes softened to a warmer silver colour.
"I didn't ask you to arrest me."
Rich was intrigued. He continued to press the issue.
"Jim. You killed six people."
The figure turned to face Fenton. "No. I merely avenged a death that was uncalled for."
"I don't understand. You talk like you believe in justice, yet you didn't offer your victims a fair trial."
The figure laughed mockingly. "A fair trial. Their victim didn't get a fair trial. I told you that already."
Rich tried a slightly different angle. "Why don't you just give yourself up. I'm sure that you can get off on temporary insanity. Use your rights."
The figure's eyes squinted in disbelief. "Have you ever noticed that the only ones with rights are the lawbreakers. Stay innocent and you have no rights."
"Jim, you have the right to a fair trial."
"Sure I do," the figure said,"I killed six people."
The figure slammed the brakes of the patrol car. The vehicle came to a lurching halt.
"Remember. We are not a country of laws. We are a country of lawyers and precedents. Let's see who's lawyer can bullshit the best and get you off, if not totally, then at a greatly reduced charge."
Rich turned his head forward in thought. Jim was right.
"Time to get out."
The glowing eyed figure walked slowly toward the wreck. It paused, examining the scene, then bent down to the man, now lying on the ground.
"Can you help me?", the man asked.
"Your actions belie your intentions."
"Oh, God, please help me", the man continued.
The other looked around, then settled its gaze back on the man.
It touched his head, then withdrew the hand.
"I will help."
The other stood up, and began walking away.
After a moment, it turned to gaze at the man.
"I think you learned your lesson. You will stay here." The other faded.
Fenton turned to watch Jim leave the car and run off down the road. The speed at which he moved was unnaturally fast and he was out of Rich's sight in a minute or two. Rich sat, digesting what Jim had said. Suddenly, Fenton snapped upright, slid into the driver's seat, and shifted the car into gear. Rich drove down the route that Jim had ran only moments before.
Reaching the crossroads of Fifth street, Rich watched as a conspicuous blue Jeep sped past, running through the traffic lights, and dropping below the hilltop leading out of town. Rich switched the siren on, turning onto Fifth in pursuit of the Jeep.
As the patrolcar dropped down the hill to cross the river, Fenton watched as the Jeep headed up the other side. Rich pushed the police car harder in attempts to catch up with Jim. $%^&, that Jeep was doing more than seventy miles an hour. Following the curving road out of the valley, Rich eventually caught up to the Jeep about ten miles out from where they had started. Jim showed no signs of stopping, so Rich was forced to pull along side the Jeep. Using the external public address on the car, he called out
"I agree with you, however I am still pressed to do my job. I am letting you go. All I want is your word that you are finished doing what you were and will not come back to St. Thomas."
Rich looked on as Jim turned his head slightly. The nod Rich received in acknowledgment was enough and he eased the car down and to the side of the road, watching the Jeep disappear in the distance.
"See you later, buddy", Rich said softly. He turned the car around and headed back to the city.
The Jeep headed into the mountains, going home.