The Pale Man Rises

CHAPTER FIFTY TWO

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Just when they were preparing to mount a search for Shelby Jean Dawson the pale man heard something in the distance. At first it sounded like a whisper and then it grew and for a moment like the efforts of a novice whistler who had not quite grasped the mechanics of the noise making and was failing the attempt of doing so. But as it rose it at last became apparent that another vehicle was at work upon this stretch of highway.

The pale man heard it at first of course. He was donning the black clothes eager to set about hunting the female. Once he heard the oncoming vehicle he alerted the other two as to its approach. As it grew louder and louder they slunk into the darkness of the other side of the highway beyond the cruiser and partially down the slope of the road's shoulder.

"We should stop that car and continue on in it. Someone will be coming here soon once the patrolman doesn't report in or answer their calls to him, and they'll be wondering why the bus hasn't arrived at its next stop." Reese told him. The pale man turned slowly and his yellow eyes showed his anger. He had not yet returned the dark glasses to his face. Reese wished he would, they were so mean and now seemed so contemptuous of him that their glowering had come to revolt him. "Do not presume to determine our course." said the master's newest voice. "Master–this...this was only a suggestion." Reese stuttered.

The pale man slipped the glasses over his eyes. "Danny go and get the man's hat." He ordered the soldier with Deborah's voice as he pointed at the highway patrolman. "His light–you should get his light too!" Reese further suggested. He cringed too as he did this fearful that the pale man may be insulted by his continued observations. The soldier halted on these words and looked to the pale man for confirmation. The pale man nodded and the soldier, assured it was alright, proceeded to do as he was ordered.

Jack Rankin was tired and quite intoxicated. He had stopped at the Crawford Town Café to get some hot coffee and when he saw the highway patrolman he took that as a sign. Whether it was a good sign or an ominous one he was unsure. 

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 He was alert enough to spot the cop astride the stool at the front of the place and his years of experience at traveling the highways and byways of the state of North Carolina while under the influence made him realize the jeopardy he was in.

And though he had been canny enough to spot the patrolman inside the place he still hadn't been alert enough to spot the cruiser parked in the cafe's lot. Shit he could have proceeded on down the road and avoided the lawman altogether. As it was now he couldn't just back out of the joint because to do so would likely pique the guy's curiosity and perhaps have him outside behind him ready to spring an arrest once he was back on the road.

He couldn't afford another DUI arrest. It had been several years since his last one and he had come to believe that he was now to slick for the cops to catch him again. At the present time however, he had come to regret such arrogance. This situation would be a real test for him.

He managed to steady his gait as he walked into the café. He tried to avoid eye contact with the state man as he strolled past him and the other man who engaged him in conversation. He hadn't looked in the mirror of late, but he was sure the whites of his eyes were as red as beets. They would surely give him away.

He steadied himself and silently encouraged his body to conduct itself as a sober man's would. He didn't recognize the patrolman and so at least he was consoled by the fact that the fellow had never been one of the guys who had pulled him over in the past.

He passed by those at the counter with an almost cocksure attitude about him as if that would make him appear even more sober. He was in danger of over doing it though. He moved to a newly empty table in the rear among some noisy patrons. He seated himself and ordered apple pie and coffee, lots of hot coffee.