The Shadow Men

Chapter 7

The air was so smoky I could hardly see and I kept coughing and choking on the toxic fumes. It was hot, almost unbearably so. I knew it was nighttime, but the glow from the fire all around me made it seem almost as bright as day. I got down on my hands and knees in the dirt, remembering fire drills we had as kids at school. The air was the freshest on the ground.

What little fresh-ish air I had found was pushed out of me in a whoosh as pain exploded in my stomach, making me vomit the wine I had drunk. Another vicious kick landed on my shin and I groaned in pain, clutching my stomach.

I crawled as quickly as I could, groping around on the ground for anything I could use as a weapon. I would not be a victim. Not this time.

My hand found one of the Shadow Men's booted feet first and without thinking, I grabbed hold of his ankle and yanked hard. He fell on the ground with a muted thud, making no other sound. I scrambled over him, locking my legs around his midsection, and started pounding on his face as hard as I could with my fists. I couldn't tell if I was doing any damage, and he made no sounds; didn't even fight back. He just lay there letting me punch him. I didn't have time to think about though, as I was pulled off him by another of the Shadow Men and dragged by the hair to a clearing. He threw me forcefully to the ground and I let out a cry of pain as I landed hard on my right shoulder. Clutching my now useless arm, I tried to get away but was pulled back and thrown again to the ground.

Dillon's words came back to me in that moment, "Fighting back only riles them up. Don't fight. Just curl into a ball and protect your head and vital organs." So, I did what he said. I brought my knees to my chest and covered my head with my arms and let them kick and punch me. My arms and legs would be badly bruised when this was over.

Eventually, their kicks became less powerful, and their punches less frequent until they ceased altogether. I stayed in the ball, choking on the heavily smoky air for what seemed like hours before I moved one arm to peek between them. I couldn't see the Shadow Men, but I couldn't see much further than a few feet through the thick cloud of smoke that hung all around me. Slowly, tentatively, I uncurled my body and pulled my t-shirt up over my mouth and nose, and began crawling away from the clearing. I had never ended a fight with the Shadow Men without blacking out before. I didn't know what to do. They could be lurking anywhere, waiting for me.

I was still stuck in this memory of the past, so I knew I wasn't safe yet. This was where I lost my home and my dog. My mom and I were supposed to evacuate with the other residents of our trailer park, but my dog Cesar had gotten spooked by the brush fire that raged all around us, burning thousands of acres of Southern California's dry landscape. Cesar had run off and I insisted on staying until I could find him.

This place, this was what was left of our trailer park. The whole place had burned along with almost everything we owned. I found Cesar next to a boulder where he had most likely died of a heart attack; the doggy equivalent of dying of fright.

WHAM! I felt the air stir before I saw the Shadow Man's leg swing toward my head. As soon as it made contact, the lights went out and I saw no more.

A Coyote's howl woke me. The smoke was gone and I was freezing. I lay on the cold desert sand staring up at the moon and coughed out the last of the smoke from my lungs.

"Great. Just great," I said out loud.

Based on the memory the Shadow Men had picked this time, I knew exactly where I was, which was a very small positive. I knew that the new trailer park was built less than a mile away from where I was, but I had little desire to go anywhere near that place. There were a few of my mother's ex-boyfriends living there still and let's just say that some of them had an affinity for younger girls. I was very sure they would love to get their sleazy paws on me in my current vulnerable state.