Tom Dowd - Burning Bright

Kyle pulled up onto the curb and into the courtyard of the building, scraping the passenger side of the car against part of the iron fence that used to stand there. Then he turned the car off and let the engine wind down. He considered leaving it running in case they needed a fast getaway, but decided that the risk of theft was potentially greater than the likelihood of quick flight.

"Do you wish me to check inside?" Seeks-the-Moon asked Kyle as they studied the section of the building where Ellen Shaw had her apartment.

"Wait one second," Kyle said as he stepped forward and pushed against the front door. It swung open easily, both lock and frame smashed.

"Drek," Kyle said, looking up toward the apartment

"Looters?" asked Seeks-the-Moon.

"Maybe. Do you want to check ahead?"

The spirit grinned slightly. "It was you who reminded me of my abilities, remember?"

Kyle nodded. "Go ahead, but step into me foyer so that anyone watching won't see you disappear. Ellen's apartment is on this side"-he pointed south-"two floors up."

The spirit nodded and stepped through the door, with Kyle close behind. Even before completely entering the trash-strewn entranceway, Seeks-the-Moon faded from view. Kyle pulled his gun, an Ares Predator II heavy pistol Ravenheart had given him, and waited. But the gun was only clear of the holster a moment before the spirit returned.

Seeks-the-Moon was shaking his head. "The apartment is empty and looks like it's been ransacked."

"Looters."

Kyle and the spirit climbed the old staircase to the first door on the second landing. Here too the lock and frame had been shattered, and then Kyle remembered that he'd done the damage himself with one of his own spells the last time. It didn't look like anyone had tried to repair the damage, even temporarily, in the interim.

Kyle pushed the door open, holstering his pistol as he entered. The apartment had indeed been looted, with little of value left behind. Most of the appliances were gone, as were the electronics and the food from the kitchen. In the bedroom, Kyle saw that clothes had been pulled from the closets and dresser. He couldn't tell if any of their contents were missing, but the bedclothes were gone.

Then, in one corner of the dining room, where random trash and debris had apparently been pushed, Kyle found a small padded chip-book carrier. It was identical to the one he'd given Natalie two years ago for Christmas, and the more he stared at it and turned it over in his hands, the more certain he was that it was hers.

"I think they may have been here," Kyle said to Seeks-the-Moon, who'd quietly followed him in. The spirit nodded.

They continued to search, but turned up nothing of further interest except some dishes in the dishwasher. Kyle counted them and paired them with utensils and drinking glasses also sitting there. One partial set was smaller, as if someone had deliberately been given a smaller portion of what looked like prepackaged lasagna. The drinking glass was even a tumbler, not full-sized. The food was hard, but hadn't yet begun to turn bad, probably not more than a day or two old.

Kyle nodded. "They've been here."

Seeks-the-Moon called out to him. 'Then you should look at this." He was back in the living room.

Kyle walked out mere and found Moon pushing a small tack into the wall. A tattered and torn sheet of paper dangled from it.

"What's that?" Kyle asked.

"It was on the floor. I think it was hanging here and someone ripped it down."

Kyle looked at the paper, but it was only a fragment obviously torn from a larger sheet. "Is the rest of it around?"

Seeks-the-Moon shook his head. "I haven't found it."

Kyle nodded, also looking this way and that. "If the whole sheet was torn down by looters, why isn't it here?"

"You think they would have torn it down and left it on the floor?"

"Why do anything else? Why take it if it had no value?"

"Depending on what it said, they may have perceived it as having value to someone else."

Kyle stared at him. "That's hard to believe."

"You don't believe your people are capable of such things?"

Kyle looked away. "It doesn't make any sense."

The spirit shrugged. "The people your wife and daughter are with may have taken it down themselves."

"What do you mean?"

"They wouldn't want anyone to know where they were going," Seeks-the-Moon said, "but they also would not want to alarm your wife by refusing to let her post a note to you."

"So after Beth and Natalie left, someone or something pulled the note down."

The spirit nodded.

Kyle turned and looked at where the fragment of paper hung. "I think I prefer your other suggestion," he said.

After quickly checking some of the other apartments in the building, and finding nothing, Kyle and Seeks-the-Moon went back to the car. It was exactly as they'd left it, but Kyle stood there looking across the street at the barricaded house. "I want to see if they know anything," he said.

"They don't seem very sociable," Seeks-the-Moon said.

"Maybe." Kyle unslung the submachine gun from under the long coat and passed it to the spirit. "They're probably just scared."

"Fear does not promote rational thought."

"I know," Kyle said, "but I have to ask."

Seeks-the-Moon walked with Kyle to the edge of the curb, then Kyle continued alone toward the house, his arms held out, palms open.

"Hoi!" he called out as he reached the far curb. There was no response, so he continued forward a few more steps. "Is anyone home?"

Kyle saw a piece of wood pull away from one of the windows, and then he dimly made out a face-he thought it was a woman's-and the muzzle of a shotgun. Both were looking at him.

"What do you want?" the woman shouted. She sounded young, barely more than a teenager.

"I'm looking for my sister-in-law, Ellen Shaw. She lived across the street in that apartment." He pointed back at the building. "I think my wife and daughter are with her, and I'm trying to find them."

The shadowed face pulled away, but the shotgun remained. The woman returned in a few moments. "They're gone," she said. "There were about a dozen of them, but they're gone."

"How long ago?"

"Day before yesterday."

"Do you know where they went?" he asked.

"They said they were going to some relief camp."

"Relief camp? Do you know where?"

"No, they didn't say."

Kyle cursed under his breath. "Did you see which way they went?"

"Down that way. But I didn't really watch."

"Was there a little girl with them?"

He could see the woman nod. “Two of them. One was carrying a cat."

Kyle nodded. "Thanks," he said, and started to turn away, but the woman called out to him.

"Has he come yet?" she yelled.

Kyle turned back. "I'm sorry?" he replied.

"Has he come yet?"

"Who?"

"Jesus."

Kyle paused and looked deep into the shadows through the window. The shotgun was there, and so was the faint outline of a woman's head, but he could see nothing else. He allowed his perceptions to slip into astral space for just a moment, and he could see her aura, flickering madly about her, a torrent of emotions.

"No," Kyle said evenly. "I don't think he has."

"Don't despair," she said. "He'll come soon. Then you'll find your wife and child."

Kyle nodded again, stepping back. "Thank you. I'll keep an eye out for him."

The wood slid back into place as Kyle turned back toward Seeks-the-Moon, shaking his head. Seeks-the-Moon merely shrugged. "We all seek something," he said, and together they walked slowly back to the car.

Returning north, Kyle drove the rapidly disintegrating Jack-rabbit along Cicero Avenue. About halfway, just north of Division, they passed through the site of what must have been a gang battle. At least a dozen lay dead in the street, such that Kyle couldn't help but roll slowly over one with the car. A pack of dogs, themselves fighting over the bodies, scattered as he passed. Neither he nor Seeks-the-Moon said a word.