Shades of Evil

Stepping out into the parking lot, my eyes are blinded by the sun glittering off of the cars lined up right outside the door. I blink rapidly, letting my eyes adjust as I hold my purchases closer to my chest. Leda and Neesa each carry a bag, putting their free hands protectively on my elbows as they usher me out the door. They keep exchanging looks over my head, but I know better than to ask what they need to tell me. They'll tell me when they get around to it.

As we cross the parking lot, I feel my stomach lurch in a way that is becoming far too familiar. I immediately look to the skies, expecting to see something swooping down upon me, another dragon breathing dark smoke and dripping black slime. I see nothing but fluffy clouds slowly obscuring the bright orange orb of the sun. I blink again, trying to chase away the residual image of the sun before looking again just to be sure.

My eyes adjust again, only to find themselves further confused by a long shadow falling across the three of us. A huge man has stepped directly into our path, his broad shoulders and tall frame cutting off the sunlight. Leda and Neesa look at him without much interest as he leers down at us. It is as he opens his mouth to speak that the feeling of unease returns to me.

"I know you can't be sisters, but I sure would like to have three such beautiful ladies in my life," he says with a soft drawl.

"What you would like doesn't concern us. Excuse me," Neesa says, stepping around him as Leda and I follow.

I feel his hand land with a solid whap on my rear as we pass by, "Nice and firm, the way it should be."

I assume from the squeal of disgust that Leda releases a moment later that he has given her a similar treatment. I turn to say something and feel Neesa's hand slide over my mouth.

"Don't even think it, baby Bella," she says softly, leaning closer to my ear before she turns to face him, "I would love to teach him some manners."

"Oh, would you?" He says, "I do like it rough..."

My stomach wrenches again. I am not certain, but the tone of his voice implies something that I am too young to want to know about. Neesa hands the bags she was carrying to me and turns to face him. Her stance appears casual and open, but I can tell that she is tense and ready to spring if given just cause. He opens his mouth as if to speak again, but his bravado fades away. In that moment, I am certain it is not really his words that have filled me with such dread. The breeze from behind me brings with it the odor of something foul and long-dead drenched in too much perfume. Before I even turn to focus my attention on whoever or whatever is behind me, I see Neesa change her stance and quickly step back into line with me.

"Too bad for you that we have a pressing engagement then," Neesa responds, taking my elbow again and moving me toward the car.

Neither Neesa nor Leda turns to look behind us, but the man's laughter implies he thinks he has found a better catch. I half turn to catch a glimpse of the woman behind us. She is dressed in a pair of tight jeans and an even tighter shirt that barely covers her stomach. In fact her shirt rolls upward a little each time she takes a step. Her face is done up beautifully in powders and creams. She looks like a doll, so perfect and easy to break, right down to the cold, empty gleaming eyes. Her tongue flicks across her lips like an animal anticipating its dinner as she notices me watching her. I shudder.

Leda roughly pushes me into the front seat of the car, sliding the bags into the back seat as she does so. The door slams in my face and she quickly climbs into the back seat, leaning forward to lock my door as Neesa slides under the wheel. The key is in the ignition and the engine humming before the woman behind us has a chance to brush past the man who is now gaping at the four of us in confusion and disappointment.

As Neesa shifts the car into drive, a slender hand with long, manicured nails grabs the handle of the door. Then it is pulled out of her grasp as the car lurches forward. Dead eyes are suddenly alive with anger. She turns swiftly and purposefully heads over into the next line of cars. I crane my neck to see her over Leda's shoulder as she bolts for a sleek, red sport car and fumbles for her keys. Leda pushes me down into my seat and hands me my seatbelt.

"You forgot to do something," she says with a worried grin as she fastens her own seatbelt across her lap, "Neesa, do you think you can outrun that car?"

"Barely," Neesa replies.

Her hands grip the wheel loosely as if she is relaxed but the rest of her body is tense. Her dark eyes search the parking lot ahead and to the sides, scanning for some way to lose the car behind us. Cars are in constant motion around us, but the car behind is so close that none dare cut between. This does not stop them from expressing their disapproval through honks, curses, and finger-waving. As we weave among the cars, I hear Neesa let out a sigh of disgust.

"This is never going to work. Bella, open the glove box..."

I obey her instantly, peering into the box with interest. I expect to find an arsenal of some sort, but see only a tiny walkie talkie nestled next to the insurance information, a pack of gum, and a pair of socks.

"Hand me the walkie talkie," Neesa says, smiling a little as it is already in her hand before she finishes the sentence.

Leda giggles nervously, "You mean those socks won't save us?"

"Shhh," Neesa says, putting the walkie talkie to her mouth after fiddling with the knobs, "This is Neesa. We've been marked again. Time to move."

"What's your status?" A tinny voice responds from the box.

"We're about to pull out of the Downtown mall. We have a car following us, and my instinct tells me that there are other cars waiting to intercept us."

"Yes, that's what the woman in the car is thinking," Leda says.

I turn to look at her and she pats my arm gently. Neesa looks at her, nods and returns to her conversation.

"I think we need a helicopter."

"Let me see if one is in the area."

The box goes dead again. Neesa continues to survey the road ahead of us, weaving through traffic. I look behind me to see the red sports car following as close as it can without hitting us. I can see that the woman has only one hand on the wheel. The other is wrapped around a CB mike. Her face is as intent as Neesa's.

"Neesa, we can have a pick-up for you, but you have get to a less public location. How far are you from Beverly Boulevard?"

"I believe it's about three minutes behind us," Neesa responds.

"Oh, you're driving faster than I thought."

"We are being chased," Neesa's voice has lost some of its calm.

"Yes, I know. Okay, turn onto Grace Street. The helicopter will be waiting for you there."

"Can do."

"Neesa? One more thing..."

"Yes."

"Are you in your own car?"

"Nope, borrowed one from the academy."

"Oh, good, then cleanup will be easier."

As the box goes silent, I turn to ask Neesa what they mean about cleanup, but Leda anticipates my question.

"No one is going to be driving the car, sweetie, it's going to hit something."

"Odds are something Decay puts in front of it," Neesa adds.

"Oh," I say, feeling there is nothing else to say in the moment.