Shadow Walker

The Overpass

They wound their way to the ground, but for every couple of steps Dec took, his mum took only one. The slower he went, the slower she went until they came to a standstill.

"Come on, mum," he said. "At this rate, we're going to miss changeover."

"You go on ahead," she said. "I'll follow, I promise. I know where the hospital is."

He tapped his palm pod. "Maybe I should call the hospital and get them to come and pick you up."

"There's no need for that. Look, see," she took three steps in succession to make her point. "I'm just concerned about your wellbeing. That's all."

Dec nodded. He had been breathing as shallowly as possible, and though he tried not to show it, he wished he'd brought a scarf to wrap around his face. "Try to keep up."

They made it to the ground and turned right, en-route for the hospital. By now, the streets were empty, save the occasional car heading home before changeover. With each step, Adele lagged further until Dec had trouble deciphering her waif shadow from the flickering wisps of pre-storm dust that were beginning to play havoc with the lamplights. A block later and she'd completely disappeared from view.

"Shit," Dec muttered and peered into the shifting shadows, rubbing his eyes to clear the blur of the headache that was evolving into a migraine.

His finger hovered over his palm pod, toying with the idea of calling the police when he saw the flicker of an elongated shadow disappearing down a side street back in the direction he'd just come. It had to be Adele. There was no other place she could've gone, unless she'd grown wings and flown over the impounding high-rise buildings. He checked his palm pod and saw there was still an hour before sunrise. Plenty of time to find her and bring her back to the hospital without having to get Montague involved.

He took off in pursuit, turning left down the side-street and out onto the freeway where saw the shadow again, heading west towards the overpass. This time he could tell it his mother from the curve of her shoulders and the way her hands seemed to clutch at her mouth in place of the handkerchief, which must've come loose and blown away.

He watched in horror as she plunged onto the four-laned highway, causing cars to swerve and vans to hit their breaks so hard they burned rubber. Angry drivers tooted and waved their fists out their side windows. Dec followed in suicidal tow, dodging and weaving cars that had come to a standstill in the confusion.

He lost sight of her again as he stepped under the arch of the overpass and shivered as the temperature dropped to a skin-prickling chill. "Mum?" he called out and heard his voice echoed back to him mum, mum, mum. Bats tittered and flapped their leathery wings as they found their roosts in the crevasses between the support beams overhead.

Dec moved deeper into the shadows of the overpass, using his palm pod to light his next step. "Adele," he said. And again, the echo of this own voice. Adele, Adele, Adele.

Cars zoomed overhead, ker-thunking as their wheels careened over the expansion joints between the decks of asphalt. A train rattled past, spurting a jet of steam into the air. It was the same train he would've caught from the port had he not given Teegan a lift to her apartment.

Then, silence. And in it, a low moan rose from his left, from behind a large support pillar where a concrete abutment rose steeply towards anchorage with the base of the overpass. His mum sat with her knees to her chest, head resting against her knees. Dec knew that pose. She was about to have an episode.

He tried to climb the steep slope and slid back down, his worn canvas shoes failing to gain traction on the smooth concrete. "How did you get up there?" he said.

"I'm fine," came her response. "Fine. It's just the bats. They're everywhere."

He threw up his hand, splaying white light from his palm pod in her direction. "There are no bats up there, mum."

"Then what's that?" she pointed to a small brown pellet, no bigger than a cresol, which lay at her feet.

It was bat shit. Dec didn't answer.

"See," she said. "Bats." She covered her face and moaned.

"They've gone to roost," Dec said. "They're not going to hurt you." He tried to keep his voice steady, to inject as much surety into his tone as possible. But Adele had slipped past rationality and into the realm of desert madness. Her moans turned to wails, and her body began to shake while her hands gripped and tugged her hair, attempting to tear great chunks from the root. But the length of the strands were too awkward, the doctors had made sure of that, and her wails became shrieks of frustration.

Dec watched helplessly. Without sedatives and with the threat of contracting her sickness, all he could do was wait for the episode to pass. He knew he should call the hospital. He knew he should call Mel, the police, someone, but he was frozen, unable to think, unable to do anything but stare.

Just when it seemed the situation couldn't have been any worse, the storm sirens began wailing as though in competition his mum. At the same time, his palm pod lit with a call from Mel, which, he switched off and threw to the ground so he wouldn't be tempted to call her back. Mel would be with the police by now, and despite the magnetic clip Lazar had given him, there was no way he was going to risk Montague tracing him here.

He slid down the supporting pillar and buried his face in his hands. The sirens continued their relentless assault and in the fast fading rational part of his mind, he knew he should find shelter, or risk being buried alive like those stupid chickens. But he couldn't think.

What was it Tommy had said? 'I'd rather be an idiot stuck in a shit storm saving lives, than hiding undercover, hoping it'll pass.' And the note? Something about heroes and fools? He wondered if refusing to turn his mother in to the police made him an idiot, or a hero.

He closed his eyes and realised he didn't care.