“What a show.” Orange light flared, illuminating the square jaw of one Micheal "Alejandro" Cross. Man of culture and paragon of poor life choices. Smoke puffed as he finished lighting his cigarette. Mike closed his eyes and breathed deep, releasing the nicotine from his lungs with a contented sigh before flashing a grin. It was the kind of grin that makes fathers hide their daughters and daughters hide their moms.
From a distance, Mike could be mistaken for a semi-respectable person. A man of average height with the broad shoulders of a boxer, clad in a standard t-shirt and jeans. It's only when you get within ten feet or so that you realize the shirt has "DIP ME IN HONEY AND THROW ME TO THE LESBIANS!!!" emblazoned on the front in gold glittery letters. At that point, you might look up and notice a shock of red hair in a widow's peak. And I do mean shock. Despite Mike's best attempts to keep it short and neat, his hair always looked like he just combed it with a tazer. “I'm telling you, man," Mike continued, taking another slow drag. "I felt that in my balls."
“I told you so.” I smirked. Mike doesn’t like trying new things. It had taken me a week to convince him to watch the show.
We were on the bike path, a trail that was set up along the river that runs through the city. Missoula is a bike friendly town. Small trees and bushes line the path, short and spaced out enough that they don’t block your view of the river. The grass is plush, and well tended. The trail’s lighted, but with the kind of soft yellow light that doesn’t take away your ability to look at the stars. The bike path is my favorite place. I find it soothing.
“Yeah, yeah. Once again, you knew about something cool, and I didn’t want to see it. And you talked me into it, and I watched it, and it was great.” Mike gesticulated wildly as he talked. He wasn’t soothed by the path. Mike doesn’t get soothed by much of anything. “That’s why you’re the smart one, and I’m the one that hits things. You’re the best, bro. Pound it.” Mike extended his fist.
We rapped knuckles. “You’re welcome. Just remember who the smart one is.” I tried to light a smoke of my own, and realized I'd left my lighter at home. "Lighter?"
"Sure."
We climbed the stairs leading up to the bridge, and that's when my peaceful night went sideways. We found ourselves staring at a scene straight out of Tolkein. A woman, no scratch that. A Lady, in a White Dress, fighting Shadows with a Shining Sword. She was tall, shapely. Her hair was the kind of deep auburn you usually only see in shampoo commercials. The sword was a longsword, double edged, with a large green stone in the pommel. She wore a silver pendant with a stone so white it seemed to glow.
The bridge was paved, with a roof over head. Soft yellow light spilled from fixtures set every few feet along the guardrails. On either side of the guardrails were heavy bars in a pattern similar to a chain link fence, a guarantee against any foolish (drunk) academics (college kids) falling (jumping) off the edge.
Dark figures swirled around the Lady in White. Man-shaped, they darted in and out of the sword’s path. They moved strangely, flowing and flickering. They were solid, and gave the impression of depth, like silhouettes in 3-D. They were floating 6 or so inches off the ground.
We could hear the Lady’s grunts of exertion, but the shadows made no noise. She wielded the sword bravely, skillfully, but the shadows had her outnumbered. Over a dozen of them surrounded her, and they were frighteningly quick. One darted in from the side, and the woman struck at it. The first shadow swooped away, and another came at her from behind. She whipped the sword back around, slicing the creature. The shadow unraveled in a flash of green light. Another darted in from the side, then another.
They were wearing her down, harrying her flanks like a wolf pack.
“Huh,” grunted Mike. “You don’t see that every day.” His eyes were wide.
“Yeah.”
“I think we should help her.”
The Lady hacked and stabbed at a frantic pace, trying to keep the shadows at bay. She was tiring, her movements becoming more desperate by the moment.
I looked dubiously at him, then back at the shadow people. “And we’d do that how?”
“Good point. I don’t think we can just run up and kick their asses.” Mike thought a moment, then pulled something out from under his shirt. A silver cross on a chain. “I’ve got this.”
“You’re going to convert them? Because I think they might be atheists.” I had an image of Mike screaming lines from the Exorcist while being ripped apart.
“It’s the power of faith, man. It works in the movies.”
“What if it doesn’t work now?”
Mike shrugged, trying to conceal his fear. “We’ll die.” Then his eyes lit up, and he pulled a lighter out of his pocket. “Wait! We’ve got fire, too!”
“Great. Have fun with that.” Footsteps pounded up the stairs behind us. “I’ll try to come up with something nice to say at your…“ I trailed off as I glanced behind me. Two men sprinted up the stairs, wearing bicycle helmets. Their faces were bruised and bloody, their expressions twisted up in hate and a strange sadistic glee. Their eyes were a blackness that reflected no light.
I got out of their way immediately. Mike was slower to react. One of them stiffarmed him out of his way. They ran past us, sprinting towards the Lady.
Mike climbed back to his feet, swearing. “That tears it.” He picked up his cross and took another drag off his cigarette. He raised the cross in his right hand and boomed. “THE POWER OF CROSS COMPELLS YOU!” Then he charged.
Mike is an idiot.
I didn’t follow. I’m not a fighter. Even if I was, we had no idea what we were dealing with. With no plan and no clue, I was pretty sure they would kill us both.
Mike crossed the distance in seconds, howling like a madman. Half a dozen shadows broke off from the fight and streaked towards him. Mike waved his cross.
When the lead shadow was only a few feet away, Mike flicked his cigarette at it. More out of defiance than anything resembling a plan, I think. The burning ember passed through the shadow man, and fire sprang out around it. The cigarette passed through two more of the things, setting them ablaze. They let out a horrible keening noise. Like nails on a chalkboard, but creepier. The flaming shadows flailed around, and the fire spread. In the space of a few seconds, they were all consumed.
Mike had skidded to a stop when the creatures caught fire. “Booyah!” He cried, breaking back into a run with cross held high.
The Lady in White had downed the guys with the bicycle helmets , but three other people jumped her from behind. One of them, a woman in a pink sweatsuit, sent the Lady sprawling with a right cross. The sword tumbled out of her hand. The three started kicking her.
Mike let out a roar and slammed into the three humans. He knocked the woman down, threw one of the men, and leveled a thunderous roundhouse at the third. The third man took the hit, swung back. Mike caught his wrist, turned, and threw him over his shoulder.
The shadow people rushed in on Mike. He thrust his fist out, brandishing his cross. They shied back. He shouted a laugh. The girl in the sweats was back on her feet. He shoved his cross in her face. She grabbed him by his shirt and threw him into the bridge railing. Shadows swarmed over him, kicking.
I realized a couple of things very quickly.
First, Mike was going to die.
Second, the sword the Lady had used was lying on the ground a few feet from the fight. If I was quick, I could get it before any of the shadows came after me.
Third, I still had a lit cigarette.
I ran as quietly as I could, trying to get close before anything realized I was a threat. I was maybe ten feet from the weapon when some of the shadows broke off from kicking Mike to deal with me.
A shadow rushed me, but dodged backwards when I threatened it with my cigarette. Another shadow hit me from behind, bearing me to the ground.
I flicked my cigarette over my shoulder. The weight came off my back. I rolled to my feet and picked up the cigarette. I threw it at the mass of Shadows swarming over Mike and they scattered. I made a running dive for the sword.
Shadows jumped me, knocked me to the side. They bore me down, pinned my back against the pavement. I struggled.
Mike picked up the cigarette. The cherry was out. Shadows crashed over him like a wave.
Shadow hands gripped my throat, held my arms. I panicked, flailing, trying to buck the creatures off. They barely seemed to notice. The one choking me leaned closer. It had no face, and no features, but I got the impression it would have smiled at me if it could. I struggled harder, and my hand brushed up against something cold and hard and metal.
The sword. I gripped it, but couldn’t lift it up with the shadow men pinning each arm down. It was heavy, but I managed to tilt the blade up and let it drop down onto my stomach. I felt a nasty burning as the sword sliced into my abdomen, but two of the shadows fell apart in a flash of green light. My throat and lungs burning, I flopped over and stabbed the last one. I gulped in a deep breath and went into a coughing fit.
“THE POWER OF CROSS COMPELLS YOU!” Mike was back on his feet, waving his cross around. All but two of the Shadows around him had vanished. His face was covered in blood, and there were burns on his arms and shirt. I staggered to my feet, fending off a shadow with a clumsy swing of the sword. The two men stopped kicking the Lady and rushed me. The woman went after Mike.
I skipped backwards, smacking one of the men on the forearm with the flat of the blade. The man crumpled. His partner caught my wrist. He squeezed.
Bones popped. I screamed. The sword fell from my hand. Fire screamed through my wrist as he jerked me towards him. I saw the fist coming and ducked my head out of the way. He released my broken arm and reached for my throat. I backpedaled.
He slammed me back against the fence with crushing strength. I got a foot up on his chest and pushed. He leaned in against it, overpowering me as easily as a grown man fighting a child. I grabbed his wrist with my remaining hand, squirming and twisting to keep his hands off my neck. Every movement sent a shockwave of pain up my arm. I couldn’t get away. His hand closed over my throat.
Mike hit him in the back with the sword. He collapsed, and I fell to the pavement, gasping. Mike turned and swung the sword again. He struck the female with the flat of the blade. She went down.
The remaining shadow men were flowing over the Lady.
Mike hauled me to my feet. “Up and at’em, Kev. We’re not done yet.” He lit a cigarette. I took it. Mike raised the sword over his head and dashed at the Shadows, yelling at the top of his lungs. I followed, still gasping for air.
The shadow men swirled towards us. Mike ran right through them, slashing wildly. A group of them flowed around the sword, came at him from behind. I flicked the cigarette. They went up in flames.
The Lady sat up, eyes filled with blackness. She jumped to her feet and sprinted away from us. Mike cursed, ran after her, but stopped after a few feet. He slashed at one of the shadows, then heaved the sword. I picked up my cigarette. The sword arched through the air, spinning. Its tip struck the Lady, slicing through her dress and opening a red line across her buttocks. The Lady pitched forward.
The remaining Shadows converged on the Lady, picking her up. I flicked my cigarette again. They scattered, dropping her.
We reached the Lady. Mike stood over her, cross in hand. The shadows flitted around us, reluctant to give up their prize. I picked up the sword. The shadow men fled.
Panting heavily, still waving his cross, Mike lit a cigarette. “That’s right, fools!” He shouted. “The power of Cross compels you!”
“Dude,” I croaked. “Stop yelling your last name at them.”
“Right. Sorry.” Mike grinned. “Now that was a fight! You ok?”
“Not really.” Even hopped up on fear and adrenaline, my arm hurt like hell. “I think my wrist is broken.”
Mike glanced at my arm, dangling uselessly at my side. “Yeah it is. You did good, though. If you hadn’t flicked that smoke I wouldn’t have been able to get to my lighter.” He grimaced. “Wish I’d gotten to the cross, instead. The bastards burned me right along with them."
“You alright?” I asked.
Mike gave himself a quick inspection. “I’m surprisingly ok, all things considered. Bumps, bruises, a couple of cracked ribs. And I hate being burned. Burns suck.”
I chuckled. ”Plus you got your ass kicked by a girl. That has to hurt.”
“No! Dude. Why would you say that?” Mike gave me a wounded look. “Besides, she was all super strong and stuff.” The grin came back. “We just rescued a hot babe from freaky shadow people. Was that cool or what?”
“You’re an idiot.”
“It was cool.”
“It was cool.” I admitted. “But you’re still an idiot.”
“I get that a lot.” Mike looked around. “You see any more of those things?”
I shook my head. “I think they’re gone for now.”
“Well, keep that sword handy, just in case. I’m gonna check on the wounded.” He paused, gazing at the fallen. “What do you think they were, possessed?”
“Probably.”
Mike shook his head. ”Hope we didn’t hurt them too bad. I’ve never had to fight a possessed person before.”
“Yeah”, I agreed. “Weird night. I blame you.”
“What?” Mike gave a wounded look. "Why me?"
I shrugged. "Going on a walk was your idea."
Cross in hand, Mike bustled around the unconscious people. They were all pretty banged up, but none of it seemed life threatening. The woman in sweats had a broken arm.
“Well, you did hit her with a sword.”
“Shut up.”
The Lady in White was hurt the worst. Her face was a mass of blood.
“Is she going to be ok?” I stepped closer, trying to see if she was still breathing.
“I don’t know, give me a minute.”
After a brief inspection, Mike shook his head. “They broke her ribs, her nose, and her left clavicle. That I know for sure. And she’s going to need stitches on her… you know.” He gestured at her posterior.
“People do tend to get cut when you throw swords at them.”
“What else was I going to do? She was getting away.”
“I don’t know, run faster?”
“Shut up.”
I raised my hand. “Hey, it’s not my fault you stabbed her in the butt.”
“Whatever. She needs medical attention. Aside from the butt wound, ” he glared, “they beat her up pretty bad.”
“I don’t think the hospital’s the safest place for her,” I said. “She’d be helpless if those things came back.”
“Yeah.” He grimaced. “And there’d be all kinds of people they could possess to get to her. Plus I don’t think they’d let her keep the sword. No weapons allowed and all that.”
“Could you take care of her?” I asked. “You were a nurse, once.”
“I was not a nurse!” Mike protested. “I was a Combat Medic.”
“So you were an Army nurse. You could still take care of her, right?”
"I hate you."