The Shadow in the Dark Chapter Thirteen

 

A heavy wooden bridge cannot just disappear without a trace. It’s not possible. Even if men somehow removed it, piece by piece, in the dark, there would still be evidence it had been there. A wooden bridge is heavy. You would see traces of it having sat on foundations on the banks of the river. But as I gazed at the spot where I had walked onto the bridge, I just saw uninterrupted grass, scrub and bushes. Nothing here had been disturbed. If there had ever been a bridge at one time, nature had reclaimed the river bank over a period of many years. 

 

“Am I going mad?” I said out loud. I walked towards the river edge and gazed into the dark waters of the Miskatonic. There was no evidence of submerged timbers. 

 

Despite myself, I began to cry.

 

“It’s October the 6^th,” I said to myself. “I was here yesterday. Yesterday was the 5^th of October. I didn’t imagine it!”

 

“Ashlee…” Sheriff Root had carefully descended the steep slope and now stood behind me. I felt his hands touch my shoulders and turn me around. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

 

“There was a bridge,” I cried. “I saw it! I walked over it!”

 

“Hush.” He took me in his arms and suddenly I was no longer the tough FBI agent. I let him hold me and I wept against his shoulder. “What is going on? Please tell me?”

 

I felt him stroke my head and it felt so good. 

 

“You were in a crash, Ashlee. I shouldn’t have brought you out here. You obviously need more rest. I’m going to drive you back to Rosemary’s house and you’re going to get some sleep. And I’ll send for Doctor Willett. Someone should check you out.”

 

“I’m not mad,” I cried. “There was a bridge.”

After the Bighorn Chapter Five: ‘Battle is Joined’, by Tracker

 

(A reminder that the story takes place in 2016 in the early days of New Feminism)

 

The Frick building, the Marriot Downtown, where my lawyers were to be housed and headquartered, and the Federal Courthouse form a triangle within a block of each other in downtown Pittsburgh.  There is a sort of park between the Marriot and the Courthouse, with a Plaza connecting to the Frick Building.  The Hilton, where VanRijn’s minions lurked, was across the street from the Marriot.

 

Wyandotte Frick proved competent enough at Administrative chores, though I was still unsure if enough strength lay hidden under his bland exterior. He assigned me Zach Frick, who is a lawyer, though exceedingly young.  He should be able to understand my requirements though.  We first toured the Marriot Downtown.  It was Wyandotte’s idea that my team of lawyers should work and live there while he wanted me to stay at the Frick Mansion where I could be close for consultations.  I was not at all adverse to the idea of staying where there were so many curvy distractions, hot in their collars.  

 

I wanted to observe the running of a headquarters of an acquisition operation just in case the chance to operate one for myself should occur.  I truly miss Juli, I treasure her so much.  I know she has much to learn; she is eager but needs instruction.  But still, semi-trained as she is, I would not trade her for any of the hot lovelies in the Frick Mansion.  I would like, though, to have that Chelsea Frick at my feet, begging for mercy, begging for love and use in a collar.

The Paga Diaries (20) by Arizona Wanderer: ‘Banishment’

 

I really did not want to be around Mirus and Tereus.  I was disgusted with the beating of Lina by Mirus.  Her little laugh when my string broke was harmless.  It probably did look funny to her and I was not offended at all. I have never owned a woman but it seemed to me that Mirus had a very heavy hand when it came to disciplining Lina.  I wanted to take her away and make her my own.  I was hoping that Mirus would change his mind about selling her to me.  I did not feel like spending the afternoon with them but I was thankful for his work on my gemstone appraisal, and everything else that he had done for me.  I did not want to offend him.  

 

It was very easy to say yes to going to the Dautium Square Market with its luxury taverns and the exceptional variety of beautiful slave girls who worked in them.  We went into the Shackle and Chain again and were looking for a low table close to the sand pit where the slaves dance.  To me the dance was a show, a mesmerizing display of sensuous skill, passion and beauty.  I got distracted by the moves of a short brunette in the pit and didn’t notice a man waving at us to join him at his low table.  

 

The man was Atticus, the hulk of a man who was an officer of the city guard and whom I had met last time I was here.  The three of us joined him at his table and ordered paga, except for Mirus, who ordered ka-la-na. 

 

“Tal Atticus, has the Shackle and Chain become a new guard station for our city?” Mirus joked. 

 

“Tal. I am exploring guard station locations that increase the surveillance opportunities of criminals,” Atticus said. 

The Shadow in the Dark Chapter Twelve

 

“You’re rather quiet this morning,” said Sheriff Root as we drove back to the site of my car crash, two nights ago.

 

“I don’t know what this is supposed to be – some sick game, perhaps – but you’re obviously part of it,” I said as I gazed straight ahead through the windscreen. I was not going to look at him.

 

“You’re not making sense, Ashlee.”

 

“Call me Miss Ellis. We are not friends. And today is the 6^th of October, not the 5^th.”

 

Sheriff Root sighed as he held the steering wheel with his left hand. “I showed you the date on my cell phone. You crashed your car on the night of the 4^th…”

 

“Yes, we both agree on that.”

 

“And today is the morning after; the 5^th of October.”

 

“Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I’m just going to believe that? You did something to the date on your phone, that’s all. We were in this car yesterday, driving down this road, and you know that. YOU KNOW THAT.”

 

“Ashlee…”

 

“Don’t call me that!”

 

“Miss Ellis, with all due respect, I think you sustained some concussion in the crash. We should get you checked out by a doctor. I met you at the diner last night and called round this morning as promised.”

 

“What is going on? Just… just tell me?”

The Shadow in the Dark Chapter Eleven

 

Dogs.

 

The barking was distant, but audible. 

 

Probably too distant for them to have picked up my scent or even heard me, assuming they were even guard dogs, that is. I sprang quickly to my feet and considered what I should do. In a film I would have waded through the river, but the Miskatonic was deep and I would be taking an incredible risk to enter the water in the dark. If the strong river current didn’t endanger my life, the freezing cold water would probably give me hypothermia once I emerged downstream. 

 

With the setting of the sun the trees began to take on an eerie appearance with their branches seeming to take on the aspect of monstrous tendrils reaching up towards the night black sky. I was reminded of films like the Blair Witch Project where the woodland seemed to be a hostile and overbearing force of nature trying its best to lure you to your death. I’m a city girl and I don’t really feel at home amongst nature. Woodland at night is not a place that puts me at ease. 

 

Were the dogs looking for me? Had I tripped a motion sensor located near the bridge? If so it made sense not to be anywhere near the bridge if that was where the dogs (and their handlers?) were headed. Just who owned this land, and why were they so very hostile to intruders? What had happened to Shelley? Where had she been taken? 

 

It suddenly occurred to me, for no reason at all, that I hadn’t seen any of Shelley’s discarded clothing on the grass when I had emerged from my hiding place. I hadn’t even given that thought any consideration at the time, but now, hours later, the switches in my brain clicked into place. Had the men bundled up Shelley’s garments and taken them away? I suppose they must have. There was no other explanation. Which meant they didn’t want to leave any evidence behind that the girl had passed through the woodland.

 

Which meant she wasn’t going to be seen again by anyone.

 

Which meant I could not let them find me. 

The Shadow in the Dark Chapter Ten

 

I crouched with my back against a tree, calming myself down with some deep breathing techniques I had picked up during a weekend Health & Wellness Course in San Francisco, three years ago, when I was at an uncharacteristically low point in my life and wondering what I should do next. Slowly, as the minutes ticked by, I felt the fear and anxiety wash away.

 

I am not usually scared of men. Why should I fear them? By and large the men I routinely met were conditioned from birth to respect women and to defer to our demands. The exceptions tended to be criminals, and of course in dealing with them I had the authority of my badge and my gun, and the support of the Bureau. But here in this wood I lacked all three of those things, and for reasons I couldn’t comprehend, I had feared the two men who had stripped and abducted a young hiker named Shelley.

 

One thing puzzled me though. I was sure the men were going to rape Shelley. They had bound her wrists and stripped her, after all, but upon hearing she was a virgin, and following a brief examination that had proven she was speaking the ruth, the men had made no attempt to rape her. They had referred to her as being white silk.

 

White silk.

The Shadow in the Dark Chapter Nine

 

Let me be clear about something, because it’s actually very important to me.  

 

I’m not a woman who panics under stress. I’m a trained FBI agent who has successfully completed two unarmed combat courses in Quantico, Virginia. For the second one I was awarded a Bronze medal of commendation by my instructor, Miss Valerie Ryan. She told me that I had nothing to fear from men, and that my judo takedown of the young FBI student, Thomas Bradley, was text book perfect. Agent Bradley was in his second year with the FBI and apologised after the practical demonstration for laying hands on me during the practice bout. He had seemed hesitant when we were being assessed and marked, hesitant as if he feared the social consequences of subduing a woman, the consequences for which can be extremely punitive in Western society. We are not to be touched or handled at the whims of men. And so his heart hadn’t really been in the fight, and consequently I had landed him flat on his back.

 

“A perfect 10,” Miss Valerie Ryan had said. She seemed pleased that a man had been subdued by a woman on the training mats. It seemed to reinforce the dogma that she taught to her students. “You see, Thomas, how your apparently superior size and muscle mass counts for little when you face a skilled opponent. How foolish you look. Miss Ashlee Ellis successfully used your superior size and strength against you. It is a myth that men are naturally superior to women in unarmed combat.”

 

I of course basked in the praise. I had made a man look foolish on the practice mats. There was much laughter in the gymnasium room in Quantico, Virginia, amongst the other female students at least. Few of the men laughed, of course.

 

After the practice bout, Agent Thomas Bradley had approached me, and, rather embarrassingly, had enquired whether I might like to go somewhere for a coffee? Just me and him. He towered over me as he spoke quietly, not wishing Miss Valerie Ryan to overhear his approach. I declined of course. After all, how could I respect a man who I had so easily beaten in a judo match?