Enjoy this preview of my upcoming book, Shepherds of Lost Things. This prologue sets the vibe for what you should expect across my 95k-word supernatural mystery-thriller.
Prologue: That Which Was Lost
There are small things that change the course of many lives. One such object was the coffee machine in the Millay Hotel employee break room. It was broken. Because of this, the doorman was reduced to dancing on his feet to stay awake in the early hours before the sun broke over the sky. Had his body been caffeinated perhaps he would have been able to deftly move out of the way when the front doors of the hotel swung open unexpectedly. Instead there was a great mashing of limbs as multiple guests spilled out onto the sidewalk on top of him.
Laying on the cold ground collecting himself he heard the sound of shoes squeaking on cold concrete as they pounded the pavement away from him. They had been slowed because he was in the way. Not one of them uttered an apology in their mad scramble out of the hotel. Closing his eyes the doorman started to get up when he heard something else come out of the hotel…
Jagged…
Heaving…
Breaths…
As if each breath was a surprise to the one breathing. Whatever it was that huffed as it gave chase after the guests was gone from sight by the time the doorman looked up. He flicked the dirt from his coat as he resumed his position at the front doors. No sense chasing after them in the dark. That wasn’t his job.
***.***
Two blocks down the city street the running man’s heart was a series of explosions encased in a chest heaving with fear for every step he took. Udo’s ears were still ringing from the gunfire that had chased them out of the Millay Hotel’s Presidential Suite. That they’d dodged so many bullets was only by the grace of god. That good grace had left them. Now, his feet, on fire in ways he’d never known before, cried out for him to stop but all he could do now was run.
RUN.
RUN.
RUN.
Udo’s left hand tightened around his daughter Abila’s wrist until he heard a whine escape her lips. In his right hand his wedding band dug into his son Femi’s hand as the boy fought back tears.
Together the three of them kept running. Down the streets. Past people waiting to get into clubs. Through the working girls standing on the street corners. Beyond them a heavy stone wall surrounded a park. He saw a thicket of trees. A forest in a city. Imposing. Old. Waiting. In his bones Udo felt the energy of the natural space radiate a safety that the cold city streets did not. There they could be safe from their pursuer.
He ran them through gates and into the park.
Above them a full moon shone bright enough to light their way, for which Udo was grateful, but it also meant that they were still in eyesight of that which chased them. He cursed and blessed the moon with his breaths. Udo pushed them beyond the edges of the trail. Leaves crunched under the father and his children as they went beyond the path. Thick bushes grabbed at the three of them as if the forest was trying to slow them down.
As if to further imperil them, the trees rained down leaves upon their heads with every gust of wind. Thinned and starved by a dry year, there was little leafy tree cover to be found from the moon’s glow. Udo pushed them further into the trees anyway.
A cloud moved in front of the moon darkening their way. Udo glanced up to thank the universe for the help just as he felt a branch snap painfully across his face. For a moment it tangled with his necklace and he felt his skin burn as the metal dragged across him. He turned, holding foul words to himself, and let go of the children’s hands so that he could free himself.
His fingers wrestled with the branch and his necklace as he worked to free himself. As he pulled away Udo felt dampness on his fingertips and his neck stung in the chilly night air. He’d been cut by the very thing he wore to protect himself. Any thoughts of staunching the bleeding left him as jagged rough breaths chewed the air in the bushes beyond his sight. It was a sound that betrayed no fatigue. Only hunger.
Udo shook the fear that was rising hairs on the back of his neck and reached for his children, “Come, we must keep moving!”
Barely had Udo’s fingers wrapped around Abila’s wrist when his feet betrayed him. The world went spinning as Udo tripped and crashed down to the ground. The sound of crunching leaves exploded around them and then dimmed into a silence punctuated only by Udo’s labored breathing.
Femi tugged on Udo’s arm, “Get up Dad! You said we had to run.”
Udo said nothing but nodded. He tried to stand, but stabbing pain in his right ankle brought him down to his knees. Udo whispered in a broken voice, “I… I can’t run anymore, Femi. Take your sister. Keep going.”
Udo pulled at his necklace, the metal clunking against his face as he pulled it off for the first time in years. His hands trembled as he put the necklace over Femi’s head. The boy began to fuss, but Udo put his hand on Femi’s shoulder, “You can do this. You who know the truth of this world. Now go!”
A father holding his own tears watched as his son could no longer do the same. Femi let a stream of tears fall freely down his cheeks but did not protest. He just nodded as he grabbed Abila’s hand and pulled roughly.
The little girl opened her mouth to say something but Udo put his finger to her lips, “My dear sweet Abila, you have always been my north star. Now go and meet the rising sun.”
Together the children took off running deeper into the woods. Abila pulled a little as she strained to turn around and see her father causing her bright blue glittery dress to catch thin flecks of moonlight. From a distance Udo thought it appeared to be fireflies dancing in the night. He smiled.
Now behind him in the bushes they’d just burst through came the sound of breathing. Not the heaving breaths of a family running for their lives. A sickly, raspy sound crawled through the underbrush and wrapped itself around Udo. He tried to stand, to fight their pursuer, but his ankle would allow him nothing more than kneeling. This was how he would meet his fate.
In the dark he felt the warmth of something grasp him. It was a false hope of mercy that felt like a spring morning but smelled fouler than anything he’d known. The air left Udo’s lungs with a surprising speed as a knife blade twisted in his side. He wanted desperately to cry out to his children “Never look back! Keep running!” but all that bubbled out of his lips was a haggard wet final gasp.
***.***
The moon hung over Femi as he pulled his sister along. In front of him the park’s trees seemed ancient and imposing. They curled downward towards the children, but whether to hug them or strangle them was unclear to Femi. Behind them he thought he heard a scream, but it was distant and faint. He imagined it was his father crying out in bravado after victoriously saving the day. He pictured his father hugging them again.
Those thoughts went flying from Femi as something wrapped around his neck and suddenly jerked him backwards. Slamming onto his back with a resounding thud, the boy struggled to find his breath as he surveyed the trees above him. He watched as a few leaves floated down to the earth as if nothing was unusual about the scene unfolding.
Lying on the ground struggling to find his breath, Femi could hear Abila crying but he couldn’t see her. Her cries became a scuffle of feet and a struggle of soft fists hitting something. It did not sound like a fight she was winning. Her whimpers and the rustle of leaves on the ground gave way to a nauseating silence.
Nothing.
Femi rolled over and found his footing. One hand on his neck feeling where something had snagged the necklace so hard that it had left an impression on his skin, the other hand reaching out into the dark trying to find Abila.
Nothing.
He gulped, feeling the sting of bruises forming on his neck, and dared to speak aloud, “Abila?”
Nothing.
Tree branches swayed in the wind. Femi felt the breeze on his cheek, but didn’t know if the rustling leaves were falling from trees or brushed aside on the ground by something moving towards him.
The boy knowing nothing else, wrapped his hand around the pendant on the necklace, and prayed as he’d been instructed to do since he was old enough to recite words.
“Though we fear the dark, the dark fears us. Though we fear the dark, the dark fears us. Though we fear the dark, the dark fears us. Though we fear the dark, the dark fears…”
His words hung in the air as Femi felt something wrap around his arm. It was unfamiliar and tickled him sickly. The sound of jagged raspy breathing filled Femi’s ears as he closed his eyes and tried to find the words he was told would keep him safe from harm.
…
..
.
..
…
As the sun came up over the park a dog barked. He was excited. His furry butt waggled as his owner jogged off the path to yell at him for running off. The dog didn’t care. He just kept barking.
The yelling stopped.
There was a long pause.
Then muffled cries as someone held hands over their face.
Face down in the stream, just beyond the tree line, was a little boy’s body. Bright red blood mixed with cold water and swirled in patterns with the fall leaves. The water taking away everything that he had carried into the night.
The dark was no longer afraid.
Ross Weisfish 