Daywalker: Under a Bridge

Beneath the Hill-to-hill bridge, a homeless camp had taken root. Most of the homeless were new arrivals in the city. Among them, about half were Extranormals and few of them trusted law enforcement. Grey Walker drove his SUV down the narrow-paved road that bordered the river until he arrived a few yards short of the overpass. He had come looking for an old friend, hoping to get some information on someone who may very well have cost him his career.

Grey was aware of the dangers of walking into a camp like this. He had left anything of value locked in his SUV. The key dangled around his neck on a chain. As he neared the camp, he tucked the key inside his shirt. Most of these people were honest, but he had been working in law enforcement long enough to guard against those who weren't. At the edge of the bridge's shadow, a large figure stepped forward to block his way. "Move out of my way, troll, or I will move you." The troll's laughter was cut short when Grey kicked him on the side of his head. By the time the troll recovered, Grey was on the other side of him still being trailed by the pickpocket who hadn't had the chance to ply his trade.

As the small pale hand reached into Grey's pocket, Grey grabbed the waif by its wrist. "Lucky for you, I'm on leave or I'd be slapping a pair of cuffs on you." The waif tried to pull itself free, but Grey had a tight grip. "I'm looking for a friend. I heard he was hanging out down here helping people. His name is Duncan. Any idea where I might find him?" The waif pointed up the slope toward the top of the bridge. "Thanks," Grey said as he released the waif and started up the hill.

The shade beneath the bridge grew darker with each step upward. Grey's eyes gradually adjusted allowing him to focus on his old friend. Duncan had changed little over the years, but he was twice as wide as Grey remembered and completely devoid of hair anywhere on his head. Duncan was smiling and busy clearing space for Grey as he approached. Grey sat where he was instructed, on the ogre's knee, and laughed as he bumped his head on the bottom of the bridge. "What brings you here?" Duncan asked being careful not to let his voice boom in the confined space.

"Yesterday, I was attempting to rescue a possible jumper from a building. Just as I grab hold, she pulled us both over the edge. When I landed, she was gone, vanished on the way down. The only person who remembers her is my partner who was on the roof with me at the time. I can't make any sense of it. I was hoping that you could help me."

"That's a lot to unpack, but I think I can help. I just need to ask a few questions. Before the fall, had other people seen this jumper?"

"Yes. She had caused a traffic jam from all the gawkers blocking the street."

"When you grabbed her, did she grab you back?"

Grey paused for a moment. "Yes, she grabbed my wrist before leaning backwards over the ledge. I thought that I had a good footing, but it didn't seem to matter."

"I think your jumper was an imp. They are strong as oxen, can vanish and appear at will, and can sense things about people even after they have left. They can also influence people making them forget things."

"Like being on top of a building all morning?"

"Exactly."

"But my partner wasn't affected."

"Are you sure that's really your partner?"

"I'm not sure I know what you mean..."

"Imps can influence what you see, what you remember, and sometimes how you feel. They are mostly solitary creatures, but once they make contact, especially physical contact, they become attached to the person."

Grey came looking for answers and walked away with more questions. As he pulled away in his SUV, he thought he saw the woman from the ledge looking down at him from the bridge. She was smiling.

Daywalker: Out on a Ledge

In the early morning hours, as people were coming to work at the building across the street from the old City Standard building, a small figure appeared perched on the rooftop ledge. The nine-story building was scheduled for demolition in the coming weeks and had been securely padlocked to prevent entry. Which made it all the more puzzling how the young woman pacing along the rooftop ledge got there. At first, no one noticed. But gradually, a crowd started to gather to watch her occasionally teeter on, but not fall from, the rooftop. By midday, the crowd of onlookers had filled the street below blocking traffic. This was the complaint that police officers Grey Walker and Lucas Marshall were responding to when they arrived on the scene.

Several other units had already responded to the call and were busy redirecting traffic around the area. Grey and Lucas had to park on a side street a block away from the crowd and walk in to where they had gathered. All of their faces were raised to the sky and many of them had their hands clasped as in prayer. "Are they waiting to be raptured?" Lucas joked.

Grey glanced up to see what they were looking at. "Dispatch, we need a fire rescue team and a Crisis Intervention officer at the old City Standard building. There's a woman on the roof ledge." Turning to Lucas, "we need to get this crowd out of the street. Any ideas?"

The arrival of the Fire Rescue truck was enough to move most of the crowd onto a sidewalk. Lucas and Grey started to herd the people standing on the City Standard side to the opposite sidewalk. Once the area was clear, the firefighters set up an air mattress in front of the building. The Crisis Intervention officer notified Grey that he would be delayed. The woman had been up there for several hours, and the crowd was reluctant to disperse.

"Lucas, I need you to hold the fort."

"What have you got planned, partner?"

"I'm going up there to talk her down."

Grey headed down an alley toward the back of the building. Every door and window at street level had been boarded up and padlocked. The lower portion of a fire escape had been removed making it out of reach for a normal person. But Grey wasn't a normal person. Lucas came running down the alley in time to see Grey leap into the air and grab the third-floor railing of the fire escape. "Seriously?" Lucas yelled up at Grey. "You couldn't wait to give me a boost?"

Grey pulled himself up and over the railing onto the landing. He looked down at Lucas and smiled. "Bring the car into the alley. I'll wait for you." Lucas stared for a moment before shrugging his shoulders and running off for the unit. True to his word, Grey had waited for Lucas to pull the car into the alley. Grey was hanging upside down from the third-floor deck of the fire escape. "Grab the emergency chain ladder and toss it up to me. I'll hook it on for you."

After climbing to the rooftop, the two officers separated with Lucas acting as a distraction trying to talk her down from the ledge while Grey crept up on her and pulled her to safety. At least that was the plan. Grey moved slowly at first being as quiet as possible while Lucas spoke to her. "Hello," he shouted. "My name is Lucas. What's your name?" She didn't answer, but she did turn to face him. "Oh, good. You can hear me." He took a step toward her. "What's your name?" he asked again. She turned her face back to the crowd below and extended her arms. Concerned that she was about to jump, Grey rushed toward her and grabbed and arm. As he attempted to pull her back onto the roof, she twisted her body. Grey was surprised by her sudden move and was pulled off the roof as she fell backward away from the building.

Several minutes later, Grey landed on the air cushion that fire rescue had deployed. The crowd that had gathered slowly dispersed. And Grey was being read the riot act for his "stunt". The young woman who had stood on the roof ledge had disappeared during the fall. No one at street level remembered her, despite having watched her a good part of the morning. Grey was afraid to ask Lucas about her, but it wasn't necessary. "It was weird," Lucas commented. "Halfway down the building she just disappeared, like she had never been there."

"You remember her?"

"There was something creepy about her, makes her hard to forget."

Daywalker: Inside the Freak House

Delivering a prisoner to Special Lockup always made Officer Grey Walker uncomfortable. Most Normals wouldn't enter the place. Officer Lucas Marshall opted to remain in the car while Grey took the prisoner inside. Grey signed in with his palm print before escorting the shifter to his holding cell. He unlocked the specialized handcuffs and shoved the man inside the virtually escape proof cell. The cell door latched shut as soon as Grey was clear. Grey stood for a moment to watch the prisoner test the confines of his cell. The prisoner could pull his disappearing act all he wanted. Grey made sure that the cell was marked as occupied. On the way out, he informed the office that he had just locked up a shapeshifter for attempted robbery.

Back inside the car, Lucas sighed with relief. "What was that for?" Grey asked.

"Oh, you know, I'm always afraid that you'll go in there and they won't let you leave." Lucas laughed nervously.

"Me, too, partner. Me, too," Grey muttered.

As they drove away, Grey remembered the one time that he had been locked up there. He had just turned sixteen and his schoolmates had managed to get their hands on a case of beer. It was his first time out drinking with his schoolmates and they cheerfully passed him a fresh can every time he finished the last one. When he needed to pee, he chose to relieve himself on a nearby car that was blocking the alley. It wouldn't have been so bad, except the police car was occupied at the time. He probably would have outrun the officer chasing him if he hadn't been certifiably drunk. The officer didn't know that Grey was a daywalker at the time. He took Grey to the Special Lockup with the intention of scaring him straight. It worked.

Grey shared a cell with other drunk Extranormals, one of which was a belligerent troll, who was half as broad as he was tall and covered with a thick coat of brown hair. The breath of a troll is bad enough, but when combined with alcohol, it becomes absolutely foul. Most of the other cellmates kept their distance from the troll. But the beast had cornered Grey and was looking for a fight. That was the day Grey discovered that he was more than a fast runner.

Deciding that he couldn't take any more of the troll's foul breath, Grey raised his feet off the floor and kicked the troll in the belly. The beast was sent sliding on his ass clear across the cell. The troll picked itself up off the floor and charged at Grey, who dodged the creature's fists as they hit the cell wall. Before the troll could gather its wits for the next attack, both it and Grey were tasered by the guards.

Grey woke up in a cell opposite that of the troll. Both had been sentenced to another night in Special Lockup because of their fight. The cells in which they were locked were secured with both self-latching and deadbolt lock mechanisms. The bars were barely two inches apart making it nearly impossible to pass an arm through. Instead of iron, still a standard in Normal jails, the bars securing the prisoners and the bed frame were made of heavy steel.

Grey and the troll stared at each other for several minutes before the troll broke out in laughter. "What's so funny?" Grey shouted at the troll.

"I got my ass kicked by a mere boy. That don't happen often," the troll smiled. "You got a name, boy?" he asked. "Mine's Duncan Riddle."

"I thought trolls didn't give out their names," Grey replied.

"You've been reading too many fairy tales, kid," Duncan laughed. "C'mon, I know you got a name."

"It's Grey," Grey replied. "Grey Walker."

"Well, Grey Walker, I'm pleased to meet you. What did you do to get in here, Grey Walker?" They talked for hours. It was the beginning of a long friendship and the only time that Grey was locked up in the Freak House.

As the two police officers pulled away from the Special Lockup, a call came through requesting their assistance at an abandoned building scheduled for demolition.

Daywalker: Down a Blind Alley

Officer Grey Walker chased the robbery suspect for six city blocks before finally cornering him in a blind alley. Or at least he thought so until he arrived at the dead end to discover that the suspect had mysteriously vanished. He could hear his partner arriving behind him, out of breath, and sweating profusely from the hard running he had done to finally catch up with Grey. 

Officer Lucas Marshall was in peak physical condition. He ran marathons in near record time and had been a sprinter in both high school and college. But he couldn't keep up with Grey, who was faster and stronger than any other man on the force. It annoyed him because Grey didn't work out. But Lucas knew that he was lucky to have him as a partner. Resting his hands on his knees, Lucas looked up at Grey. "How in the hell did you manage to lose him?"

"Good question," Grey replied looking up for any fire escapes that the suspect might have used. Turning around, he noticed that Lucas was standing on a metal grate. "Maybe he went down, as there is no way he could have gone up and there's nowhere to hide in the alley itself."

Lucas bent down and examined the grating. "I don't see how. This grate is bolted in place."

"Let me have a look at it," Grey said as he approached.

Lucas backed off the grating. "Knock yourself out, partner."

Grey worked his fingers around the iron grate and gave it a gentle tug. It didn't budge. When he pulled his hand out, he noticed a small coating of slime stuck to his fingers. He stood up and wiped it off on his pant leg. "Next time, Lucas, follow in the car. It's a long walk back to where we parked it."

Lucas shrugged. "Well, I expected you to have run him down sooner. Never expected him to get away from you." Both officers started the long walk back to their vehicle parked at the convenience store six blocks away.

As they turned the corner exiting the alley, Grey stopped and grabbed Lucas by the arm. "I'm going back down that alley. I want you to go get the car and come back with it. I have a hunch about where the suspect is hiding and if I'm right, we'll need the car to take him in." Lucas deliberated for a moment before agreeing, then took off at a light jog back to the car.

Grey stepped back into the middle of the alleyway and started a slow walk toward the dead-end. He closed his eyes and listened to the echoes of his footfalls. As he neared the end of the alley, he could hear the rapid heartbeat of a cornered animal. He sniffed at the air and encountered an unusual scent wafting off a nearby wall. Something or someone had tried to sneak past Grey. Before it could move further out of the alley, Grey reached out with his hand and grasped it firmly by its neck. When he opened his eyes, the nearly invisible captive struggled for a few minutes before finally conceding defeat. Grey lowered the boy to the ground and released his grip.

"The dude you were chasing," the boy stammered. "He just oozed down the sewer grate." Keeping his eyes to the ground, the boy asked, "What did the slimebag do?"

"Held up a convenience store, or at least he tried to before my partner and I showed up."

"What were you doing in the alley?" 

"Hanging out," the boy replied. 

Grey grabbed the kid by the chin and stared into his eyes. "Have you ever seen him before?"

"No," the kid answered without hesitation. "And you know I ain't lyin', 'cause I'd be a fool to lie to a vamp."

Grey smiled. "Relax, kid, I don't bite. Sounds like my partner just arrived with our ride."

"You takin' me in?"

"Of course, I am. You didn't think I was stupid enough to fall for that story about the grating, did you?" Grey grabbed the kid before he could run away, shoved him face first against the nearest wall and handcuffed him. Grey shoved the shapeshifter into the back of the vehicle. He took a seat next to his partner. "We're taking this one to special lockup."

"The Freak House?" Lucas asked as he glanced back at the passenger. "What's so special about this one?"

"He can't decide what to wear," Grey replied smiling.

Ambergris: A Firestorm at a Midnight Mass

The post-funeral condolences from visitors continued well past dinnertime. The guests gradually filtered out of the house as the evening wore on. Around ten o'clock, Grey and Amber made a show of leaving for the few remaining guests. Noticing that they were being followed, Grey continued on to the hotel. After pulling into the lot, their follower disappeared down a side road leading to Red Lake Hunting Lodge. Free of their tail, Grey left the motel lot and headed back toward the town. Out of sight of the house, he turned down a gravel road that led to a field behind the farmhouse. He parked the SUV and waited while Amber slipped back into the house.

The last of the guests to leave were the mayor and his wife, the sheriff and his wife, and the minister and his wife. The minister's wife hesitated at the door for a moment before begrudgingly saying goodbye. "I'll come by in the morning to check up on things," she yelled from the bottom of the porch steps. Then she slipped into the car next to her husband while the Lawrences waved goodbye. Once the house was clear of visitors, Amber let Grey know that it was safe to approach the house.

"Thank you for letting us stay with you," Grey said while nodding to David Lawrence.

"We could use the extra help," Lisa replied, "especially with Michael being so frightened of his gift."

"Your mother Isabel has been helping him accept that he is different," Amber stated.

"My mother has been dead for nearly ten years. She died around the time that Michael was born."

"Which is why she is tied to him," Amber explained.

The last six people to leave the Anderson house gathered at the church in the center of town. Five paths crossed the circular green forming a pentagram with the church located in the middle. The six people put on black robes and formed a circle at the altar. Candles had been lit to cast a glow within the church while the six started a chant that was barely a whisper but gradually rose in volume.

The house had settled in for the night with David and Lisa sleeping in the primary bedroom, Grey taking residence in the guest room, and both Isabel and Amber watching over Michael. A few hours later, the entire house was awakened by Michael screaming. Amber rushed to his bed and hugged the frightened child. Placing her hands on his cheeks, she looked into his eyes and watched the horror that had awakened him replay. "You will forget what you have seen. Go back to sleep. Children need their rest." Michael calmed down and did as he was told.

Lisa entered the room at the moment Amber wiped the vision from his mind. "What did you do?" she demanded.

Amber smiled, but Isabel answered for her. "She took away his horror so that he could rest. She will deal with whatever disturbed his rest." She turned to Amber. "Won't you, dear?" Amber nodded in reply.

Lisa's jaw dropped. "Mother?" she stammered.

"Stay with him until he falls back to sleep. I need to talk to David and Grey." Amber walked outside the room into the hall where the two men stood. "I need the two of you to thoroughly lock down the house. Every window, every door must be shut and locked if possible. Leave no way in. I'm going to deal with what the boy saw." And with that she faded away.

Amber arrived at the motel several minutes before midnight. With Fred's help, she was able to locate the center of the lot on which the motel was located. Standing on the heart of the property, she raised her hands above her head and started her own steady chant. Fred watched her slowly turn with each recitation as a shield formed around her and gradually expanded outward. By midnight, Amber's shield had expanded to cover the whole of the lot the motel stood upon and much of the surrounding woods. The recitation at the church of the Lord's Prayer had strengthened the protection around the village.

Across Red Lake stood Red Lake Lodge, a local hunting lodge, where a group of hunters had also been chanting. Two of the hunters had stayed at the motel the same night that Amber and Grey had been there. They had also attended the burial service and gone on to the house. As midnight approached, the hunters directed their chant against the motel. For a brief moment, a sudden flash of light surrounded the motel, then vanished as Amber's shield bounced the spell back to its source.

When Amber returned to the house, all eyes were pressed against the windows watching the flames lick at the night sky. The night sky lit up when the spell hit the lodge. The flames generated by the fire imp were massive. Volatile gasses exploded out of their tanks from the heat of the fire. The six in the church stopped their prayer chant when the concussions from the fire struck the church, rattling the stained-glass windows. The mayor and sheriff made calls to the volunteer firefighters in the village. It happened so quickly that the hunters inside the lodge were unable to escape the ensuing fire. By the time the firefighters from Red Lake Village were able to respond, there was nothing left of the lodge except smoldering ashes and thirteen charred bodies arranged in a circle.

 . 

Ambergris: A Challenge at a Farmhouse

The Anderson farmhouse was imposing, consisting of three floors of living space, a basement, and an attic. The entire adult population of the town had attended their burial and had managed to squeeze themselves into the first-floor rooms. Amber grabbed a plate from the kitchen buffet table and filled it to overflowing before taking a seat at the dining room table next to Grey. She sat quietly stuffing forkfuls of food into her mouth while he talked to one of the local deputies about the fire at the motel. "Who called about the fire?"

"The night manager, Fred. He smelled smoke coming from the room and grabbed a nearby fire extinguisher. When he opened the door, he was hit by a lot of smoke and steam. Just as he pulled the pin on the canister, according to Fred, the fire just quit. Poof! Gone. It was out when we got there. He opened the room for us. Sheriff went in first. Smell was something awful."

"Photos?" Amber mumbled with a mouth full of food.

"Is it possible for me to see photographs of the room?" Grey asked.

"Sure. You want digital? I can email them to you," the deputy said as he pulled out his phone. "Just let me make a note."

"Do you have copies of them on your phone?" Grey pulled out his phone. "We can transfer them directly. Save you some data charges."

The deputy located the file on his phone. "That's the folder you want."

Amber turned her attention back to the ten-year-old boy. He had barely touched the plate of food in front of him and seemed on the verge of tears. He had been twirling the tines of his fork on the paper plate, basically rearranging the food on it. Suddenly, he dropped the fork and bolted from the table running up the stairs. His aunt started up the stairs after him, but the minister's wife stopped her. Amber wafted up the stairs while the two women argued over the right thing to do for the boy.

Amber paused briefly in his second-floor bedroom and glanced at the fantasy posters on his wall and the science-fiction books in his room. She could hear his footsteps echo as he ran up the second flight of stairs. A quick pass through the wall into his parent's bedroom gave her a sense of their level of devotion to their only child. There were photo albums by the mother's side of the matrimonial bed and several framed photographs of his from birth to the present day hanging on the walls

AS Amber passed to the third floor, she found abandoned bedrooms where the family had lived before the death of Mr. Anderson's parents. They had inherited the house and moved down to the lower floor several years ago. The remnants of the boy's nursery remained with a slight coating of dust. By the time she had finished examining the floor, the boy had found his way up into the attic.

Michael Anderson was huddled against an old steamer trunk that had been shoved beneath an eave. The only light streamed in through a porthole window located just below the peak of the roof. The attic was dimly lit and dusty. Spiders had covered a corner with cobwebs. Amber could feel a cold draft swirling about the room. Tears rolled down his cheeks dampening the knees of his jeans. Amber walked slowly toward the sobbing child.  "I won't hurt you." Amber tried to reach out to him, but something slapped her hand aside.  "I'm here to protect you from whatever killed your parents." She tried to move closer, but something stood in her way. She kept talking. "It wasn't you. I know you think it had to be, that you saw them die. But you didn't kill them."

"Kill them," a ghostly whisper echoed Amber's last words. A sudden gust of cold air tossed Amber to the other end of the attic where an old dressing mirror stood. Glass shards exploded outward from the frame while Amber fell forward. She picked herself up from the floor and shook loose the glass fragments.

After rising from the pile of broken glass, Amber chose her next words carefully, "I'm here to help Michael."

"Help Michael," the whisper echoed. "Keep him safe."

"Yes, we must keep him safe," she replied to the wraith. "You know what I am."

"Trouble," the wraith whispered. "Your kind are always trouble."

"I am Ambergris," she whispered in reply. "I cause no harm to the innocent."

"Your name means nothing," the wraith replied. "I am his grandmother, Isabel. I protect him."

"Yet you hide up here," Amber moved closer to Isabel. "Because the real danger is down below?"

"Too many shadows," Isabel explained, "I cannot see."

Amber smiled. "Please tell me that you are tied to the boy and not the house." Isabel nodded. "He will be safe with his aunt and uncle, but you must tell him what he is. My friend, Grey, and I will deal with the one who made him an orphan. Your grand-daughter and her husband are in danger."

Amber accompanied Isabel over to her great-grandson and properly introduced the young clairvoyant to his ghostly guardian. While the two of them became better acquainted, Amber made her way downstairs in time to rescue her unfinished plate of food. When she returned the two women were still arguing. Michael's aunt stood her ground, raising her voice to match the volume of the minister's wife. The argument ceased when Michael made his way back down the stairs, choosing to cling to his aunt and keeping distant from the other woman.

Ambergris: A Storm at a Funeral

The cemetery rested on the top of a hill overlooking the town below. The morning mist gave way to dark clouds accompanied by a light rain. By midmorning, the rain had become a steady downpour under a black sky. Grey Walker parked his SUV behind the couple's sedan. He watched them head to the gravesite before stepping out of the vehicle and following. He knew that Amber was already there keeping an eye on the mourners and looking out for trouble.

A large tent had been raised over the gravesite. Lanterns had been hung beneath the canopy to provide a reasonable amount of light. The minister of the church stood clutching his Bible while awaiting the arrival of the attendees. The couple from the diner took a seat near the recently orphaned boy. He was about ten years old. Amber stood across from him shifting her weight uneasily. She detested funerals. Humans were so overly sentimental toward the deceased, so unwilling to speak ill of the dead.

There were no holes dug. There were no caskets to bury. The headstone had already been set, ready to receive the ashes of each of the deceased. Grey found the arrangements disconcerting. Normally ashes would be placed in urns to be buried and not placed inside the gravestone. Equally disturbing was the distance being kept by the locals. Only the minister's wife and his aunt and uncle sat with the boy. No one stood behind him. The townsfolk in attendance stood in a semi-circle outside the tent forming a cluster of black umbrellas. Occasionally, a hand would reach out to pull Amber back into the safety of the gathered onlookers, but she wasn't afraid and wrestled free.

Amber took a seat across from the boy and stared into the black pools of his eyes. Something had taken hold of him. Grey soon joined her, propping his umbrella against the empty chair to his left. "There's no one else coming," she whispered toward the minister. "Start the burial." The minister started by reading Psalm Twenty-three from his leatherbound Bible. He spoke about how devoted the couple were to each other and how they were loving parents to their son. Amber kept her eyes on the boy throughout the entire ceremony.

After the all the ashes were poured into the holes in the headstone and the last rose laid on the top of the gravestone, people started to offer their condolences on their way out of the cemetery. Amber and Grey stood and waited until the last of the townsfolk had left. Grey approached the couple. "Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence, I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," Mr. Lawrence replied with a firm grip on Grey's hand. "I get the feeling that I've seen you somewhere before."

"Last night, at the diner," Grey answered. "My name is Grey Walker, I'm a private investigator. I was there with my associate, Amber Gray. She was worried about you. Woman's intuition. Sometimes her inklings turn out to be real." Grey paused before asking, "I'm curious, why cremation? In cases of sudden death, there is usually an autopsy to determine the cause."

Mr. Lawrence turned to the minister hoping for an answer. "Well, there wasn't much choice really. The Andersons had died in a fire. Their bodies were badly charred. Cremation seemed only natural."

Amber smiled. She stepped forward and hugged the boy tightly. Inside his head, he was fighting off demons. "If he only knew," Amber thought. Amber struggled to make sense of it all, but nothing seemed to be happening in any particular order. There had been a fire. His parents had died. He had been spending the night at a friend's house while his parents were out of town. On their way back home, they had stopped at the diner for some dessert, then settled in for the night at the motel. Somehow, he had witnessed all this. At the moment, it was his waking nightmare, along with facing an uncertain future.

Amber had already searched Room 101. Her curiosity had been piqued by Grey speculating that the room belonged to the night manager. The smell of smoke still lingered in the air. There were no signs of accelerant nor fire suppressant in the room. No signs of water or powder. The fire snuffed itself out as mysteriously as it ignited. Amber needed to get her hands on the ashes. The answers were there as to whether the boy or something else was responsible for the fire.

"We should go," Amber suggested. "The guests are waiting at the house. They have set up a meal for the family."

"Yes, we really should be going," Mr. Lawrence agreed. The minister's wife quietly herded the boy along to their car. Amber and Grey followed the Lawrences back to their car. As soon as Grey had cleared the gate, Amber returned to the grave and stuck her hand into the ashes. Although the day's rain had lessened, a deluge of hail and lighting struck the ground around the small tent. The anger was unmistakable, but the source still remained a mystery. Still, she had managed to glean some answers before deciding to make herself scarce.

Ambergris: A Night at a Motel

The Wayside Inn was a small motel just down the road from the diner. It had ten rooms, three of which had been rented out for the night. Grey parked the SUV beneath the carport in front of the rental office and went inside. The night manager had just handed him the room key when Amber entered. "I thought I told you to wait in the car," he said without turning to face her.

"I'm bored," she said while looking over some brochures advertising local attractions. "And I'm hungry."

"You just ate," Grey stated. "Now get back in the car. I have our room key. You can watch television." Turning to the night manager, he intoned, "Please tell me there's a TV in the room. It's one of the few distractions that keep her out of trouble." The night manager nodded and Grey smiled, "Thank you."

Grey sighed with relief when he settled into the driver's seat. "You should not have gone in there. There's something about the night manager. I can't quite put my finger on it."

Grey backed the SUV into the space in from of room 106 and shut off the engine. He opened the hatch and grabbed the bags while Amber opened the door from inside the room. While he placed the luggage on the racks provided, she plopped down on the bed closest to the door. By the time he was done using the bathroom, she was sound asleep. He pulled the quilt off his bed and covered her with it before going outside for a walk.

Rooms 108 and 109 had been rented out to the hunters. Both men were busy preparing their guns for the early morning hunt while a porn movie played in the background. The men had decidedly different tastes when it came to sexual fantasies. Grey smiled. He wondered if Room 108 knew that Room 109 was into gay porn. Not that it mattered. After confirming that Room 110 was vacant, he started to walk back toward the rental office. Along the way, he checked in on his sleeping partner.

Grey stopped at Room 103. He was tempted to knock, but couldn't think of a good reason for doing so. He pressed his ear against the window to the room and listened. What he heard convinced him that they were busy making their own porn and he moved on. He stood for several minutes outside Room 101. The front windows had been painted black. He walked around to the back of the building. The bathroom window had also been painted black. A square of plywood had been jammed against the window where a corner of the glass had been broken. Grey walked down the length of the building, quickly examining each bathroom window as he walked past. Satisfied that the motel was relatively secure, he went back to his room.

In the early morning hours, Grey startled awake from a noise outside. He rose from the chair where he had slept and ran outside. "If I were you, I'd put her down - gently - and apologize."

"I caught this creature leaving the room. Who knows what mischief she was up to." The night manager slowly lowered Amber to the ground and loosened his grip around her neck.

Amber smiled. "Apology not necessary. I was just making sure that nothing had snuck into the adjoining rooms. The couple are all nicely tucked in. No sign of trouble, just the seem sense of foreboding. I don't think their trouble is here, despite Freddy being a bloodsucker."

"Freddy?" Grey turned to the night manager.

"Freidrich Miller," the night manager replied.

"I take it you live, so to speak, in Room 101 during the day?"

"I also don't prey on my guests," he replied.

Amber stared at the mist rolling out of the forest. "I may have spoken too soon." Her amber eyes focused on a large shadow hidden in the mist. "What is that?"

The night manager laughed. "That is an old friend, a shadow-walker."

"I feel like I've fallen into a children's game." Amber sang, "One of these things is not like the others..." 

"...One of these things just doesn't belong." Grey found himself finishing the lyrics. "That would be you."

A large black bear emerged from the mist. The sound of a pump-action shotgun being cocked drew everyone's attention. Before the owner could fire, Amber was standing in front of him, speaking in a strange tone. "This is a dream. There is no bear. You will go back to your room and put away your gun. Then you will settle into your bed. You will not remember the dream when you wake up. Now go." As the hunter turned and left, the black bear slowly melted into a raven-haired woman. 

"Justine Blackbear owns the motel. I work for her," Freddy explained to Grey. Turning to face Justine, "how was the party?"

"No one died," she sighed before continuing, "I should have left last night. I hate sleeping on a couch." Nodding toward Grey, "who's the day-walker?"

"My name is Grey Walker. And, yes, my last name is actually Walker. I'm a private investigator on my way home, or I was until I got side-tracked. Amber, my companion, sensed that a young couple was in danger."

"Ah, the imp." Justine smiled. "She's one of the good ones?"

Ambergris: A Stop at a Diner

Grey Walker had been driving since sunset with his partner asleep in the back seat. It had been a long day for both of them, but he wasn't worn out. Still, he thought he could use a cup of coffee. He pulled off the highway at the first sign of a place to eat. As he slowed, he could hear Amber stirring in the back seat. "Where are we?" she asked as she sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"At Chet's Diner," Grey replied as he drove the SUV into the parking lot. "I need a cup of coffee and you could do with some grub."

"Grub?" Amber replied. "Oh, you mean food." Amber sighed. "Fine," she said while pulling on her white leather walking shoes.

Grey backed the SUV into a space near the door and shut off the engine. A quick glance at the rear view mirror let him know that Amber had already left. "Just once," he muttered to himself, "I'd like her to use a door like a normal human being." But she wasn't one, not anymore than he was. But at least he made the effort to act human, to pass the sniff test so to speak.

Amber was busy playing with the locks on the door when he arrived at the top of the three steps at the diner entrance. "Stop that," he chided. "Let's go inside, and leave the locks how you found them."

"Unlocked, it is," she replied as she pulled open the door. "I hope they have hot apple pie." After following Grey inside, she added, "and raspberry ice cream."

"Behave yourself. No ordering anything that isn't on the menu. And no leering, lusting, or whatever." Grey felt uncomfortable the moment he crossed the threshold. He smiled at the waitress before choosing a booth with a good view of the place. The diner was larger than it looked from the outside. Maybe it was a matter of perspective, but Grey wasn't taking any chances. "Amber, I want you to take a good hard look around us and tell me what you see."

Amber smiled, recognizing his code for using her special sight. She turned her attention toward the other customers. "The two men in the dining room are hunters. They didn't get anything today and are discussing their plans for tomorrow. Their truck is parked to the side of the building. There are several shotguns and rifles locked inside. The couple in the other booth are on their way to a funeral. She's pregnant, as of last night, but doesn't know it yet. They've been trying for years, but couldn't afford the treatments. They are discussing taking in their orphaned relative, wondering how hard it will be for them to get custody of the boy."

"What about the people who work here?" 

"They are good souls, but they are worried about us for some reason. We are the odd couple. They know you have a gun on you and are wondering if you are here to rob the place. There's a gun near the register and the cook has a shotgun in the kitchen. I think we should order food when the waitress finally shows up."

Grey never ceased to be amazed by Amber's ability to see things in their entirety, to grasp the whole of a situation. He set down his menu and turned over the coffee cup that had been sitting on the place mat, signaling that he was ready to order. Amber had done the same, adding two packets worth of sugar before the coffee was poured.

Grey settled for the burger platter, which included a side of fries and a pickle. Amber ordered breakfast, scrapple and eggs with a side of pancakes. After coating everything in maple syrup, she quickly devoured the meal. Still hungry, she ordered some apple pie a la mode, settling for vanilla ice cream and raspberry sauce. She took her time with dessert, savoring every bite. She would have licked the plate when she finished, but a look from Grey was enough to stop her.

Amber followed Grey as he walked to the register to pay for the meal. She stopped at the booth where the couple had been. Their dishes had not been cleared away. When her fingertips touched the tabletop, a sense of foreboding hit her. Dark shadows stalked the couple at the motel where they were staying. She met Grey at the door on the way out. Once outside, she slipped into the front passenger seat. "We need to check into that motel just down the road. People there need our help."

"I see that you are feeling better," Grey remarked as he started the engine. Amber smiled as they pulled out of the restaurant lot and headed down the road to the Wayside Inn.