Stephen Gallagher - Valley of lights

Angela said, 'Are you going to the sheriff now?' I could see that she wasn't entirely confident any more, realising that the lines of a news story aren't always so clear when they're seen from the inside.

I said, 'Where else?' and tried to smile as if it was all over now as I slammed the door.

As soon as I was out of sight around the corner I started to run, drawing the overworked Special from its holster one more time as I moved. Two dogs in an old picket-fenced garden followed me hopefully from one end to the other, and I could hear their yelping behind me as I crossed the street. This time I wasn't going to hesitate. I'd shoot him out in the open if I had to, whether there were witnesses around or not.

But he wasn't in the post office. Nobody was.

Now I had to turn and look around, feeling awkward and conspicuous with the gun in my hand but knowing that I didn't dare have it any other way now that he was so close. I wasn't planning any confrontations or goodbyes, no wrap-up scenes. It would be spy and fire, and I was going to empty the gun into him to be a hundred per cent sure.

Christ, I hoped I could recognise him.

But there was no immediate risk of confusion here, because there was nobody else on the street other than me. Down at the far end a Dodge truck was making the turn, pulling a rusty trailer loaded with damp green hay. As it rattled and bumped out of sight I scanned both ways, wondering where he could have gone. Walking distance for him could cover a lot of ground, because I knew how he didn't like to drive if he didn't have to.

The Rexell's, or one of the other stores, maybe? I set off over to check.

I felt a little easier moving under the shade of the covered walkway, a little less conspicuous. Many of the windows along here that hadn't been boarded up carried bars. At the general store I stepped around the kiddy-sized rocking horse in the doorway and followed its cable inside, holding the short-barrelled Colt down and out of sight in order not to panic the owner who was rising from a seat behind the counter as I came in.

'Hi,' I said, but then I saw the reply die on his lips as his gaze was drawn to one side of me. I reacted, but I was slow. When I turned I saw a rack of free-standing shelves, their contents already beginning to spill as the entire unit toppled towards me; and I was moving, but it was like I was moving through thick grease until the hail of cans passed over me and I was slammed to the floor by a shaky metal structure with all of a big man's weight behind it.

I was aware of him crouching over me. I'd lost a minute or so somewhere. Now I was lying on the floor and my head and my shoulder hurt, and a bag of oats had split somewhere so close by that I wanted to cough on the dust.

'Don't shout too soon. Jack,' I heard him saying to the storekeeper. 'I may have messed up your display, but I just saved you from a robbery.'

And then I heard the ignominious sound of a revolver's hammer being cocked, just inches from my head. It had to be my gun, because my hand was empty. I heard the storekeeper say, 'I guess you did, at that.'

Groggily I tried to rise, and cat chow showered from my jacket. He was crouching by me and grinning, a hard-hewn mountain of a man who looked as if he'd. been carved from a single chunk of stone with a few uncorrected mistakes along the way. The deadly black 0 of the Colt hovered before me, but I looked over it and into his eyes. They were the eyes of the ghoul, regardless of the shell that they wore. And the time for playing around, they said to me, was over.

'Wait a minute,' a voice said from the doorway, and any hope that I may have had of him being distracted died with the brief flicker of a glance that he spared. I didn't have to look to know that it was Angela, and I didn't know whether to be grateful for this unexpected appearance, or what to feel.

She said, 'You're making a terrible mistake.' She was breathless, as if she'd run over. 'This man's a police officer working on a kidnap case.'

'And who're you?' the ghoul said, his eyes still on me.

'Angela Price, KTAR news. I'm kind of working with the sergeant, here. He was on his way over to see the sheriff.'

The weatherbeaten man stood up slowly, my own gun staying on me like a well-trained pointer. I could almost see his mind working, wondering where this new card in the deck might have come from and what she might mean.

And he said, 'Well, why don't the three of us go right over there together and sort this thing out?'

'That's the best way,' Angela said. She'd never seen this shell before, didn't relate him to Winter, and so saw no reason to worry. She took hold of my arm and helped me to get to my feet, saying, 'You took off in entirely the wrong direction, Alex. What did you think you were doing?'

I could have told her, but not in a couple of simple sentences. That would have been all the time I'd have had before we were out on the street again and the big man was suddenly switching the gun from me to Angela, grabbing her by the arm in case she should try to pull away.

'There you go, Alex,' he said easily. 'I reckon that this way you're less likely to try anything.'

Angela looked at me in astonished incomprehension, and then at the man, and then at me again.

'Oh, shit,' she said bleakly. 'What did I do?'

But I shook my head and briefly raised a hand to show that it was all right. She hadn't known, and couldn't have. And perhaps she'd even bought me a little time – not that I was feeling in much of a state to make good use of it.

'That was a neat piece of business on the phone,' the man said. 'Now why don't we all get in my truck and then we can go somewhere and talk about this?'

'Who's going to drive?'

'You are. Should I assume that you know the way?'

I walked across the street ahead of them. There was a breeze taking the edge off the sun's glare. He was walking Angela faster than she was really able to go, but she didn't say anything. I got in behind the wheel, and he pushed her in beside me. That way she was between us, and I'd have to reach across her if I wanted to try making a grab at the Colt. It couldn't be done, not even if I'd been feeling sharper and faster than I was now. I was feeling as if I'd had my head inside a big bell for the duration of the twelve o'clock chimes.

I had to force myself into some kind of focus as I started the truck and swung out in a U-turn to head back out of town. As we passed by the general store I could see the owner standing watching us from the doorway, a can of ham in each hand. I couldn't make out his expression because of the shade of the overhang, but I'd have bet that he was wondering what the hell was going on.

The ghoul had noticed it, too, because he looked back through the rear window of the cab and said, 'I suppose this means I'm going to have to move on again. But at least I'll know it will be for the last time.'

'I wouldn't bet on it,' I said, but under the circumstances my bravado sounded distinctly hollow, even to me.

But at least he didn't have Georgie any more.

The big man sighed happily, and said, 'Cocky to the last. I think that's one of the reasons why I'll be so sorry to say goodbye to you, Alex. You've been a pain, but you've made life a lot more interesting than it's been for a long time. I always looked forward to talking to you. I think that's probably what I'll miss the most.'

'Think how I'll feel,' I said. It was weird, listening to him like this. He should have seemed like a total stranger, but in spite of the body and the voice I'd immediately tuned in to the fact that it was the same personality that I'd been dicing and dealing with all along. I couldn't imagine what Angela must be making of it.

He nudged her and said, 'See what I mean?' And then he turned his attention back to me. 'I was going to tell you all kinds of things,' he said. 'Stuff that I've never told anyone else. You know that no two people ever see the world quite the same? The shapes and colors are always different, even the sounds. Took me a long time to get the hang of switching. There's a lot more to me than you ever really imagined, Alex. I'm not so stale, and I'm not so stupid, either. I mean, I really fooled you for a while with Michaels, didn't I?'