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    Echoes in Darkness, Chapter 16: Darkness at the break of noon

    Story written on February 12, 2006 by windrider.
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    37 votes, average: 2.84 out of 537 votes, average: 2.84 out of 537 votes, average: 2.84 out of 537 votes, average: 2.84 out of 537 votes, average: 2.84 out of 5 (37 votes, average: 2.84 out of 5)
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    Character(s): N/A
    Number of Comments: 1
    Words: 1699
    Story Shortlink: https://mail.assertive-maroon-jellyfish.104-250-143-187.cpanel.site/?p=59548
    Author Notes:

    Helena felt her mouth go dry and her palms begin to sweat. She needed to end this now, before it escalated out of control. One showdown was enough for this night. She wasn’t sure she could bluff her way through another.

    The last part of their walk seemed the longest, but the darkness was held at bay by the rows of luminaries casting a warm glow along the driveway and front walk to the porch.  A pair of Tiki torches guarded the entryway.  There is nothing so primal as fire in the darkness, and Helena’s house spoke of that power, and the exhausted friends welcomed its sight.

    Alice pushed Cinnamon in her chair, flanked by Jenny and Dana while Bette limped badly on the shoulders of Carmen and Marina, with Tina just ahead, glancing nervously over her shoulder.  Whether her concern was for Bette or for Helena, who brought up the rear with Shane, not even Tina knew for sure.  But still, her skin prickled and the hairs rose up on her neck as if this long night were far from over.

    The neighborhood struck Helena as oddly quiet as she watched her staff, Ahmed and Salemeh open the door and usher her friends into the house, Alice and Dana now wrestling Cinnamon’s ancient chair onto the porch proper.  She stopped and ticked her head to the side.

    “What’s wrong?” Shane asked. “What do you hear?”

    “Nothing,” Helena said in a half-whisper.  “Isn’t that odd?”  She shifted Jake’s shotgun in the crook of her arm. Shane gripped the tire iron with renewed strength.

    “Why don’t you go help Alice and Dana,” she asked Shane, “they seem to be having a little problem with Cinnamon.”

    Shane nodded and headed up the walk with her typical boyish swagger.  Helena stood still, wondering why there were no crickets or nightbirds to be heard.  There had been plenty of nightlife making their presences known along the roads they took.

    She felt them before she saw them, stepping out of the darkness behind her, like ghosts:  her neighbors – bankers, lawyers, doctors, investment counselors, the kind of upper crust professionals you’d expect to live in an upscale development.  And hardly the type you’d expect to see wearing flannel jackets and denim pants.  All they lacked were hunting caps and orange deerhunter tags on their jackets.  A coterie led by her nearest neighbor, Robert Chamberlain, they were all armed to a man.

    “We need to talk,” Robert said quietly, his face grim.

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    Comments

    1. Why have you stopped posting? Please tell me it wasn’t the ratings, because you can’t let that get in the way of this story. I think it’s fantastic. Please, post again if you can.

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