Ancient Shadows

Forty Five

The slave walked nervously along the railroad tracks in the pitch black of a moonless night. If he was caught this far away from the plantation and it being at night, they would surely think he was running off. He'd ran the entire way to get there and it had taken forty minutes. He figured he must be four or five miles away from home.

His breathing was hard and labored. He tried to steady himself so he wouldn't make so much noise. He put one hand over his mouth hoping to muffle the sound. But it was no use. Besides, no one would be out in the middle of nowhere like that at near an hour till midnight. He reasoned he was still a half mile from the meeting spot. An old abandoned mill sitting right up against the railroad tracks. He couldn't miss it.

He was mighty proud of himself for being picked to do this job. He wasn't a man yet, he was just a boy not much over fifteen. He'd ran himself ragged so he was walking the rest of the way. He strolled along arms swinging like he hadn't a care in the world. He had gotten his breath back so he started humming a tune he liked. Not too loud of course. His eyes shifted around the darkness that surrounded him for any signs of trouble.

He stopped misstep. He turned just slightly and perched his body forward to see. He strained his eyes against the pitch blackness of the night. He looked and then looked harder. Hoping to catch sight of what or who was responsible for making that noise he heard. He had no doubts. He not only heard the the sound of footsteps in the foliage but he also heard a whisper. Barely registered but with his keen hearing, the soft sound of voices didn't escape his notice.

The shape was directly in front of the slave boy in an instant as if by magic. The word shape being used because in that dark country night that was all it appeared to be. As the boy opened his eyes from simply blinking it was all of a sudden there inches from his face. All the boy saw was a shadow. A dark form not much different a shade than the pitch black night.

The boy knew fear. He'd seen things many adults don't see. This was the southern most part of Tennessee in the antebellum era. He had seen slaves hanged. Seen them whipped and that wasn't an uncommon thing. Hell, he'd even seen a ghost though not many of the other slaves believed him.

But whatever that shape was that manifested itself in front of him aroused a brand new kind of fear in him. He could sense by instinct that it wasn't natural. By some innate ability he possessed. He wasn't sure why he knew this. Or if others would sense it too. He didn't know about that. But this thing was old and he felt fairly certain it wasn't alive.

Then it spoke, "Sorry to scare you son. We walked on down from the mill to meet you on your way there."

The voice was that of a man in an accent he had never heard before. Now that his eyes focused he could see that the thing that had frightened him looked like a man. Well it was a man. Regardless of what he saw or the fact that it or he talked he knew what his instincts told him. This weren't no normal man.

But as it turned out it made little difference. This man or whatever, whatever kind of man he was, this was his contact. He had to conduct the business he'd came out for. This was the one he was supposed to meet.

But the man was not alone. There was a boy with him who appeared to be 16 or 17, not much older than himself but white and thus free the younger boy uncomfortably reminded himself. The slave boy nodded to the other after he afforded him a quick smile. The young stranger returned a smile to the slave like they were equal. The slave wondered if the younger one could be the man's son. But then he pushed that thought away.

This man and his boy looked human enough. However that instinct the slave boy possessed assured him they weren't exactly human the same as he was. These were no ordinary humans. The boy knew that. Still he didn't feel that fear he initially had when the man appeared like a monster out of the darkness, before the man introduced himself. He somehow felt safe now since they had spoke to one another.

The man and the boy with him were dressed in strange attire. It looked like they'd walked out of the end of the last century. The only thing they were missing was powdered wigs.

After a brief pause needed to gather his wits the slave boy responded to his contact.

" Well I reckons you saved me the extra walk to that mill. I take it you is Mr. Augustus? My name is Tad. I'll take you where you need to go but I ain't going inside that place."

Augustus was amused by this. He smiled. In the the pitch black it almost looked like his face was glowing in the dark. Augustus wondered about this boy named Tad being a slave. He'd known Tad less than a minute and he already knew he wanted to secure his freedom. Augustus thought it was an awful barbaric thing, this slavery, happening in the new world. He had seen centuries pass and things had so greatly changed. Yet here was this gigantic country across the ocean where they could own human beings if they were of a certain skin color. He couldn't think about it without feeling a sense of rage. "

Augustus thanked Tad for coming out at night like he did to help them. Tad's mother was familiar with a an old freedwoman named Betta who Augustus knew. Betta was an interesting character. That would be putting it mildly. She was a spiritualist and a practioneer of voodoo. Lots of folks called her a witch but this didn't bother old Betta in the least. She had often referred to herself as a witch.

Betta spent most of her life as a slave in central Tennessee and in Georgia along the state line of Tennessee and Georgia. Everybody claimed that her master had freed her out of fear of what she might do to him for keeping her as a slave for over sixty years! It was said he not only released Betta but five or six members of her family. Apparently the old slave owner wanted to impress his goodwill upon Betta so that there was no mistake about his goodwill.

Betta constantly provided Augustus with information. At the present it was rumors concerning a conflict going on behind the scenes. An unseen war being waged in which Augustus was a belligerent. Creatures so ancient they bore little resemblance to the humans they once were. Their frightful intentions had brought great angst to those mortals who knew as well as blood drinkers across the earth.

Tad was leading Augustus and his ally to a reunion. One that found Augustus more than anxious. This concerned a macabre event that took place a long long time ago. Something that took place in this new world almost two hundred years before Augustus arrived there with his brother to fight in a struggle that outdated even the Osterreich brothers. A war of intrigue had ensued more than a war of physical struggle although there had been physical fights. This epic contest of wills has been waged throughout the ages. A war waged behind the scenes between immortals. Between vampires and some immortals of a different kind.