Shadow Walk with Me

He had been walking down the empty highway for what seemed to be days now. He had lost all track of time when his party had vanished into the darkness. What happened to them? He continued to run over and over in his mind. His shoes were worn down to threads; his feet were blistered and bleeding. The rifle slung over his back had but one round, and he only kept it on hand in hopes that he would someday find more. The rifle was meant not to defend him, but to feed him. When he first found it on the ground, lying outside of an empty farmhouse, he had it in mind that he could hunt for his meals. But he hadn’t seen a single living creature since the morning the people he had been traveling with disappeared. His wife and child were among those people. He had lost everything, and now walking was all that was left that made sense.

Succumbing to the fatigue and hunger of his journey, he fell to his knees and began to crawl. He had had a heart condition since childhood, and had an artificial heart installed in his chest when he turned 18. Although he knew that exerting himself would surely mean death, he simply refused to give up now. He was almost to Seattle. Surely there would be other people there. Or even an animal. He would make friends with a goldfish at this point, he thought. Anything living. As he continued to crawl, the flesh of his palms and knees turned to bloody shreds on the rough and broken asphalt.  Up ahead he saw a lone pickup truck. It was matte green in color, and was surrounded by road barricades. The tail lights were glowing faintly in the dim morning light. A small cloud of smoke steadily chugged out of the exhaust pipe. It’s still running? He asked himself, and began to believe he was hallucinating.

As he slowly closed in on the idling pickup, he hauled the rifle off of his back and used it as a crutch to get back to his feet. He groaned in pain and exhaustion as he mustered the strength to pull himself upright. He limped closer now. On the door of the truck, stamped in black lettering, read ARNG. The National Guard? He asked himself. There was what appeared to be a body lying lifeless in the driver seat. It was heavily clothed in tactical military garb. The head was covered in a helmet and gas mask. The man called out to the limp figure. “Hello!” He shouted. “Is there anyone alive here? Can you hear me?” He received no response. “Hello?” He called once more and then took several steps forward until he was standing next to the truck. He tapped the glass of the driver side window. The body of the soldier did not move. He reached for the handle of the door and allowed it to swing open. The body slumped to the ground, the helmet rolled away between the man’s feet. He looked away for a moment, expecting to find a dead man in the body armor, but what he found was merely clothing. There was no head in the gas mask. No torso in the flak jacket, nothing. Just empty clothes…

As he shifted his weight on the butt of his rifle and began to kneel again to get a better look at the empty heap of armor and gear, he was stopped by a voice. “Why are you here?” The voice asked him.  It sounded like the voice of a child…It sounded like his son, Bradley. But that would be impossible. “Turn around and go back,” it then said. “It is not safe here.” The man looked up toward the truck. He couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from. It seemed as if it were coming from nowhere, or as if he was hearing it from inside his head. But there, seated on the passenger seat of the truck was the small shape of a child. It wore an army-green rain poncho with the hood up. A gas mask covered its face. The hood cast a shadow, making it difficult to see the face inside.

The man stumbled and fell on his back. He scrambled to raise the rifle in the direction of the child. “Who are you?” He asked, his voice only mildly trembling, betraying the strong mix of fear and relief he felt at the image of another human being. A moment passed and he repeated. “Who are you?” The child did not answer. He simply rose to his feet and walked lightly across the seat of the truck, and then hopped down onto the asphalt. His heavy rain boots that appeared five sizes too big for a child thumped down hard and hollow on the ground. He took two steps toward the trembling man, and held out a gloved hand to help him up. Reluctantly, the man allowed the useless rifle to fall to the ground, and he reached up, grasping the child’s hand. As he did he felt a surge of power, almost like an electric jolt filling and consuming his body. His weakened heart skipped a beat, and then began pounding hard and rhythmically. It was not painful, but merely energizing. After the powerful sensation had passed, he had no difficulty rising to his feet. In fact he felt terrific. All of his energy seemingly restored. His sense of sorrow and hopelessness had washed away from his mind.

Standing now, he looked down at the child-like figure, and thought for a fleeting second he understood what had just happened to him, but the thought was gone. The child--(his child?) spoke now. “You have the power to return. You need not go any further. There is nothing but darkness here. You will be consumed. All warring life is consumed.”

Before the man had a chance to argue, he could feel the rumbling of heavy wheels rolling down the highway toward them. He could see large, armored vehicles gaining on the horizon. They were approaching fast. Instinctively, almost without a thought, he ushered the poncho-clad child into the pickup truck and climbed in himself. He then put the truck in gear and floored it for the off ramp to Seattle. The drive was filled with obstacles, but he could feel himself effortlessly steering and gliding through the wreckage of abandoned vehicles on the freeway, as if he was no longer in control at all. Soon they arrived at a bridge that would lead them into the city. The child spoke now. “They are here,” and turned to point a gloved hand in the direction behind them. “Drive onto the bridge.” Obeying the child’s command, the man drove the truck onto the bridge slowly. Easily maneuvering between the empty cars that had once attempted to escape the city, but were now abandoned. He put the pickup in park once they reached the center of the bridge. They waited now for the tanks to reach them.

The man and child sat in the truck, watching the group of military vehicles surround the side of the bridge. “What do we do now?” the man asked. The child replied, “Close your eyes.” Just then the tanks fired at the bridge. The sound was explosive and deafening. The bridge began to groan and sway. It was collapsing. Below them there was nothing but icy black water. The side of the bridge gave way and dumped them, along with the dozens of empty cars into the darkness below. The man felt the falling, and then the impact, and then nothing. He opened his eyes, and he and the boy were standing on the opposite side of the destroyed bridge now. The man frantically checked his body to see if he was hurt in any way. He was fine. He found that he wasn’t even wet. What just happened? The man thought to himself, and the child replied as if hearing him, We are safe now. We are home.

The child held the hand of the man and led him toward the city center. The two walked until they were once again stopped by a massive barricade of cars piled at least two stories high. A voice called out to the pair. “Don’t come any further! Announce yourself! Who are you and what do you want?” The man raised his hands and replied, “We’re just looking for some shelter. Some food. Anything. We were just attacked, and need a safe place to stay!” There was a moment of silence, and then the voice replied. “You idiots! You’ve brought them here! They followed you. Leave now!” The man and the child turned around to the mechanical sound of rifles arming. A group of soldiers stood before them, rifles raised and ready to fire. A bearded man in uniform stepped forward, “Hand over the Shadow to us and we will not kill you.” “The Shadow?” The man replied. “What Shadow?”  The bearded officer tossed the man a kind of harness. It appeared to be electrified. “Do it now before it kills us all!”

The man stood there with the harness in his hands and turned to approach the child. Just then a thick, black liquid began to ooze out of the openings of the child’s poncho, and out of the tops of the boots. This was no child. The poncho crumbled to the ground as it was surrounded by a growing black puddle. But it was darker than any liquid the man had ever seen. It was simply a shapeless void of lightless black. It seemed to consume and absorb the natural matter around it. The man stepped back as the formless puddle grew. The poncho was gone now, as was the road and earth beneath it. The form moved swiftly toward the group of soldiers, enveloping them all in an instant; sucking them into its nothingness, leaving only their weapons and clothing in its wake. There were no screams, only silence, as if even the sound of their voices could not escape.

The black form then returned to a humanoid shape, this time without the poncho. The man felt his heart beating rapidly, his breathing heavy. He was certain he was going to faint. The black, humanoid figure then changed its face to that of a child. The face was of his son. It spoke to him. “This has become your warring species’ fate. This has become your family’s fate. This has become the fate of all living things on this planet who bring pain and misery. We are simply an anti-body to the virus you have become." 

The figure took two steps closer to the man. It's lifeless face smiled without emotion. "Thank you for helping me on the highway. The technology in your chest is why I chose you." It then directed its eyes behind the man. "Those who have been joined with technology can be controlled. You have all been of a great service to us. Just look around you.” 

The man pulled his gaze away from the dark figure and glanced around. Emerging from the shadows were ordinary people. They approached him slowly. Some limping on prosthetic limbs and others concealing what he assumed to be false hands, false arms. Some had false eyes. These broken people who needed technology to live were now being used as technology themselves. One of the women in the group, who appeared to have an advanced prosthetic arm, spoke. “They use us to lure them here. The military, the police, anyone who wants to cause harm to the Shadow People. We are their pawns, but we are alive.”

Just then the man felt a hard jolt in his chest. He fell to his knees in agony. This time the electrifying feeling caused a searing pain throughout his body. The Shadow child then appeared before him. “You may join them, and help us eradicate the war and strife from your failing planet, or you may be consumed. Your wife is here, within us. As is your son, Bradley.” The man thought about all he had lost, and could not truthfully say he wanted to become the pawn of these Shadows. He had seen their destruction, and felt it was no better than whatever pain mankind has brought to the world. He thought to himself, I’d rather die than stay here.

And that thought was enough. The man, still clutching onto the electrified harness given to him by the officer swiftly rose to his feet and dove at the Shadow child in a futile attempt to attack it. The woman with the robotic arm tried to stop him but it was no use. In a silent instant the man was gone, consumed by the darkness. All that remained was the useless harness sitting on the pavement next to a mechanical heart that continued to beat on its own.

Author's Note

As always, all criticisms welcome. If you notice any grammatical issues, or you think it's crap, or if you actually like it, please let me know in the comments. And be sure to check out my other submissions, too!

Reviews

[Chris Paddock]

Nicely written, good descriptions I thought. "He would make friends with a goldfish" was a nice touch.

The story started to lose me a bit when the shadow child explained why it was there, what it was doing, being an anti-body to warring humans. I think that's an interesting idea, but it's something I think the reader should have to figure out for themself. For me, the shadow things should just be doing it for selfish reasons and not really know or care why they are doing it.

Also, the story leaves me feeling a bit cold... I don't really feel the man's pain of the things he has lost, I feel like I'm just being told about his pain rather than being asked to experience it with him. It ends on a note of despair, so maybe if when it started the man had some hope that would make it more poignant. So maybe if he was convinced that his son was still alive and was looking for him, and then he's really happy when he thinks he has found him, then it turns out its just a shadow creature then the sense of despair would be even more powerful and the reader might be more affected by it because there had been joy at the reunion moments before.

Overall it did hold my interest, and generally it was good.

[Supahpossum]

Definitely a good concept, although I felt as if the man would join the others and not die in a futile attempt to stop what was obviously an overwhelmingly powerful entity.

[joyinchrist]

I really, really liked it. Great short story. I found it interesting and engaging.

[Jordan]

It's different. Despite my best efforts I couldn't stop reading. It was a very quick ride down a road I didn't know existed. I want to know more about the world, but at the same time want to distance myself. Who knows, maybe they're lurking now, waiting, planning, growing.

[Andrew Leister-Frazier]

I will remember this story for a long time to come. I notice you refer to the main character as "the man" never mentioning his name.

[F.R. Eileen]

I like this story, especially the overall idea. I didn't really understand how the shadow things were controlling the people with prosthetics, though- maybe if you ever rewrite you could make it more clear? Overall, though, I really like the style.

[Greg Cooprider]

I've read some good sci-fi stuff in my day, but this is really good. Very well thought out and written. I'm really impressed with this. But maybe you could flesh out your protagonist a bit more. He seems a bit hollow. Just saying.

[Jennie Baron]

A fantastically imaginative tale, certainly an interesting premise that grabbed me, and I like the writing style. Chris has some interesting points that may be valid. I didn't especially mind the explanation of the shadow people's actions, but now that he mentions it, a little more emotion might help. Perhaps a little more detail about the son, and a little more contrast from hope to despair.

[Steph]

I really like this! You had me pulled in from the very first line. I don't think I noticed any spelling or grammar errors - which is good! This story is really different but I loved the way you wrote it. I especially love your last line, I feel it was a really clever line to use.

[Shawnee Rose]

I really enjoyed this story. You described everything perfectly in my eyes. I noticed no major errors and the story flowed smoothly. This was certainly unique.