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Chapter 7

A low rumble of thunder overhead was the first sign of trouble. Jack looked up at the cloudy sky with a grimace, the tiny droplets of sprinkling rain going ignored as they landed around him. That didn’t sound good, especially since he was still 15 minutes away from the apartment. The faint flash of lightening up above confirmed he hadn’t imagined the thunder either.

“Oh great,” he muttered to himself. “And once again, no umbrella.” He could already see in the far distance the rapidly approaching haziness that signaled a coming wall of rain. Jack needed to get off the street or risk getting soaked. Cursing, he took off the rollup sunglasses to get a better look around the area for a place to hole up, and winced at the sudden uptick of light as his still dilated eyes allowed in too much.

Now he could hear the sound of the rain as it approached. He didn’t have much time left. Not seeing any place here, Jack dashed down the street and frantically looked around through squinted eyes. The return walk towards the outskirts where Farmview Apartments was meant mostly office or storage buildings, but as Jack turned the corner at the end of the block, he spotted a gas station across the road. He barely avoided running into a passing car, having failed to notice the red hand signal across the road, and jogged in place as the light changed to a white pedestrian. He barely made it into the convenience store before the sky fell out behind him.

“You alright there hon?” came the unexpected voice of someone behind the counter. Jack blinked, winced at the bright inside of the store, and put on the rollup sunglasses before turning to look for who had spoken. A short, middle-aged, bored woman was eyeing Jack and the rain slamming into the door behind him.

“Ah, yeah,” Jack said, taking in several deep breaths. “Didn’t think I’d need an umbrella today. Um, you have any for sale?”

The store clerk eyed Jack before shrugging. “Sorry hun, but you know this city. Lot of out-of-town folks stopping by and needing them too. We might have a couple of little kid ones in the back row if you really want.”

Jack walked back to where the clerk had indicated. He had a choice of spongebob yellow or bluey blue, but opening them up to test, Jack found both much too small to cover him effectively.

“How much for a trashbag?” Jack asked in resignation. He’d have to make do, again.

The woman behind the counter considered it. “Tell you what hon,” she said after a moment. “How about you buy something to eat or drink and I’ll give you a bag.”

“Deal,” Jack agreed. “What’s hot and ready?”

“We got a couple slices of breakfast pizza still, some hot wings, and . . . that’s it,” the clerk announced of checking. “All out of everything else.”

“Not today,” Jack shook his head. He didn’t feel like greasy food, even though this was the perfect time to sneak some away from Emily. She’d have understood, but gas station food didn’t seem worth it. “I’ll just, grab a muffin and a chocolate milk.” He didn’t see the clerk’s reaction as he turned away to grab his impromptu munchies. At least the cornbread muffin looked good. He brought the two items over to the counter and waited.

“So,” the woman drawled as she scanned the food. “What’s with the eyepatch and sunglasses?”

Jack blinked. Somehow, he’d forgotten all about the eyepatch. He must have looked a little ridiculous. “Eye doctor,” he explained, slightly embarrassed as he reached up and removed the eyepatch. The clerk let out a whistle.

“Sheesh kid, you pick a fight with a dog?”

“Not, exactly,” Jack muttered, not wanting to get into it. With his left eye revealed again, he was having trouble with the haziness once more. The feeling of dilation wasn’t helping either. “How much?”

“Little over four dollars,” she drawled. “Plus tax.”

Jack swiped his card obediently, causing the card machine to whine at him.

“Chip reader hon,” the woman reminded him.

“Ah, right,” Jack shook his head. “Still getting used to it.”

“We all are,” the woman agreed.

Jack turned his card and completed the payment, the little machine giving an affirmative beep as the transaction went through. The lady behind the counter handed the food back before walking towards the bathroom area. “One moment hun, let me grab you a larger one.”

“Thanks,” Jack said. There wasn’t a place to sit inside this particular gas station convenience store, so he opted to stand near the front door and much on his muffin. The rain poured down outside, raining cats and dogs one might say, punctuated by the occasional flash of lightening and sound of distant thunder. Jack ideally sipped his chocolate milk as he watched the rain fall, then squinted his eyes.

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There was something across the street. It was hard to see through the rain, door glass, and sunglasses, but Jack was sure he could make out a person on the corner. Despite the pouring rain, however, the figure was unmoving to the point of blending in with the darkness of the rain. Experimentally, Jack closed his left eye to make sure he wasn’t seeing anything, but the figure was still there, only harder to make out.

Jack jumped as a hand poked him from behind.

“Oh, sorry to scare you hon,” the woman said, not looking the least bit apologetic. “Here’s the trash bag for you.” She landed over a large, unopened black trash bag. Jack thanked her and sat his food down on the counter before shaking the bag open and ripping it down one edge to about ¾ of the way up, leaving enough of the bottom to wear on his head as a make-shift hood. The rest of the trash bag did a good enough job covering his body in Jack’s opinion.

Jack looked himself over in his reflection in the doorway before his eyes moved back to where the figure had been. The sidewalk was empty once more. Frowning, the young man pulled out his phone and checked the weather. It didn’t look good; the rain wouldn’t be going anywhere and getting weaker anytime soon. Jack considered calling a taxi or uber, not decided against it. Home was just ten minutes away on foot, and he’d rather save the money.

“Thanks for you help,” Jack said, turning to the clerk behind the counter again. Was she, shorter, somehow?

The clerk waved him off. “No worries hon. Be safe going home though, it’s a storm out there. Try and stay in the light and avoid the dark; never know who could be waiting for you there.”

Jack nodded, a little unnerved at the warning, finished off the milk and muffin before throwing the remains away, and walked out of the store. The wind brushed against him as he exited, buffing him with splatters of water even as the roof of the gas station prevented most of the rain from reaching him. Jack mentally mapped out the route home, flipped his eyepatch back on, pulled the trash bag over his body while holding it tight, and began to jog home.

Free of the shielding from the roof, Jack felt the thousands of water droplets slam into him all over. The rain splattered against the black plastic, making noise as the plastic fought back against the force of the raindrops. Jack’s barely protected face already had drops forming on his chin as he moved as fast as he safely could down the sidewalk.

As he moved, something stood out in his senses. Right under the sound of the rain, the plastics, and his footsteps, he thought he heard something else moving through the water. He turned his head, but didn’t see anything behind him. Jack frowned and kept moving. The sound returned a split moment after his footsteps resumed. Splitting his attention between in front and behind him, the young man still couldn’t find the source of the noise.

“You’re paranoid buddy,” Jack muttered to himself. “It’s just recency bias and an oddly cryptic warning from a short lady. There’s nothing there.”

He reached the next corner and nearly collided into a couple. Jack apologized and kept moving, the man grumbling something similar at him as he and the woman with him continued past. It was only a few moments later that Jack realized he couldn’t hear the strange sound anymore.

Reflexively, he felt some relief despite his earlier reassurances. Still, something poked at him in the back of his mind, and Jack, hesitatingly, moved slowly back to the corner, and looked around it. He couldn’t see the couple he’d just past, though it was hard to see through the gloam of the later afternoon and pouring rain. Jack squinted his eyes and took off the rollup sunglasses, and thought he saw a glimmer in an alleyway.

‘Emily’s going to hit me good for this,’ Jack thought as he jogged over to the alley entrance. He bent down and picked up a phone with a shattered touchscreen. He hadn’t seen it earlier when he passed by. Jack slowly turned his head and looked down the alley, but couldn’t see through the darkness and shadows.

Idly, Jack reached up and flipped the eyepatch up. The gray haze returned once more, this time allowing Jack to see the outlines of everything in the alley.

The foul taste of regurgitated milk and muffin filled his mouth as Jack turned around and vomited at the sight of the two headless bodies, matching wrist bracelets stained with blood. He dropped the shattered phone in the alley and barely kept himself from losing the trashbag hung over his body. As he struggled to come to terms with what was before him, Jack heard something.

It was the tapping of something against the concrete.

Jack whirled around, and this time with the worlds covered in darkness and hazy grey, he saw a figure approaching down the sidewalk. A blindman’s cane was tapping as he walked.

“Mister, stay back!” Jack called out. “There’s been a murder! I’m calling the cops now!”

The figure continued to approach, the rhythmic taps of the cane continuing as he approached. Jack felt the hairs on his body begin to rise.

“Don’t come any closer!” Jack yelled. “Hey, do you hear me?” He took a step back as the figure drew closer, now seeing the trench coat and bowler hat on the figure’s form. Then, as Jack blinked, the figure somehow appeared right in front of him. The young man froze as a sudden sense of danger blared in his head, and he slowly tilted his head up.

The figure in the trench coat was taller, much taller than Jack. A featureless face stared down at the shorter man, head tilted downwards as if it were actually looking at him. The head tilted to the right, then turned to look down the alley. Jack automatically turned his head to look with it.

The alley was empty; even the phone on the ground was gone. Jack didn’t understand.

Then the figure turned back to look down at Jack, who gulped nervously. There was the sudden sound of something knocking over something metallic in the alley, and the featureless face turned once more to stare. Without a word, the tall figure walked into the alley and soon vanished from Jack’s view. Jack stood frozen in place for several minutes, trying to catch the breath that had escaped him. He didn’t understand what had just happened, but perhaps it was time for him to go.

Jack turned to leave, and saw on the building corner a giant scratch mark gouged out of the concrete. It had been invisible from the side he’d come from, but the sight seemed to make his wounds throb. He reached up unconsciously to touch his scars and eye. He gulped in another breath, and broke into a run away from the alley. He’d call the police after getting back to the safety of his apartment.