In the Company of Shadows

Prologue - Longrider

“Humanity was Earth’s greatest parasite,” the presenter stated dramatically.

Her attractive features twisted into righteous anger, but the coffee table severing her legs somewhat detracted from that effect. I will adjust the settings later, I thought to myself. I never really watch HV programmes anyway; my hunting duties keep me in the field for much of the month and I have little free time. And even now, on a rare pyjama day, the only interesting programme available is a documentary about their discovery. People must think I’m a woman with a Shade on my brain for the amount of time I devote to these creatures.

The presenter faded and scenes of destruction on Earth now filled my living room. The view panned over a city with hundred-floor skyscrapers and offices. Not a spot of greenery in sight.

“No other species sucked the life out of our host the way we did. Our swarm of billions annihilated our resources and our contaminated planet began to die. Fertile countryside gave way to an urban sprawl. The air became a choking dustbowl of noxious fumes. Oceans contaminated by waste haemorrhaged sea life onto the shore or to the seabed and over two-thirds of marine species were wiped out. And inland, the situation was no better. Many animals were overhunted. Others died because of the destruction of their habitats and those of their prey. And the combination of this resulted in a mass extinction, worse than that at the time of the dinosaurs.

“Only on the point of outright destruction did humanity acknowledge their mistakes and regret ignoring the warning signs. With Earth’s resources nearly spent, there was not enough time to make amends, only enough time to think of an escape strategy. And with this aim in mind, leading astronomers scanned the skies for a viable exoplanet. Earth’s greatest scientists, using high-powered telescopes, discovered a significant expanse of water and indications of plant life and most importantly oxygen, on a reachable planet. This planet was humanities’ best chance of escape and was subsequently known as Diomedia.

“With the destination located, two space vessels were built and stored in separate, specifically designed locations on Earth, one in China and another in the United States. They were respectively christened “The Hopeful Voyager” and “The Traveller”. Every country in the world contributed to the production of the vessels and pooled money, materials, and technological resources into their development. Each ship was made from fused silica for durability and reinforced by force fields to dispel smaller comets and asteroids, all essential to travel through the great expanse of space, further than any vessel in history. These ships were the pinnacle of modern technology and moved at three times light speed. Each ship contained ten thousand souls selected by lot with each country having a proportional representation in the lottery relative to their population size. Alongside them, another one thousand technicians were included to oversee maintenance work during the flight. The risks were great because at this point no manned exploration into deep space had successfully taken place. Nonetheless, mankind was desperate to escape certain death on Earth.

“With great optimism and hope, they vowed to learn from past mistakes and make their new home an Eden for future generations to come.

“In 2310, eighty years after the departure from Earth, “The Hopeful Voyager” started to slow as it neared Diomedia’s solar system. The passengers became extremely restless, perhaps due to the glimpse of freedom after years of controlled living conditions. Understandably, their impending freedom created great expectations.”

Suddenly the images of the spaceships dispersed and another woman appeared in the middle of my living room. She wore an old-fashioned bronze uniform, the kind they used to wear on-board the ships, and her hair was pulled into a bun. This new woman announced herself as Amy Worth before beginning to recall her own experiences over soft idyllic music.

“There was anticipation in the air that spread until everyone was filled with an excited energy—including myself. Children eagerly pressed their noses up against the windows to get their first glimpse of our new home. Through the misted glass we saw a super continent with water all around it and I remember thinking—water, unpolluted fresh water! It was amazing.”

She vanished and was replaced by a sweeping scan of the desert landscape. Amy’s voice continued, “although we were so close, we’d to wait because it wasn’t safe to charge headlong into this unexplored area without first scouting the region. An initial reconnaissance group went down in a smaller vessel and scoped out the proposed landing destination. They did a lot of tests at ground level to confirm gases in the atmosphere weren’t toxic and hospitable to human life; they tested soil quality; they ensured that no dangerous creatures loitered in wait to attack passengers as they disembarked. Of course, at that time we’d no idea about the Shade menace and no way to search for such creatures.

“Our droids looked further inland to find potential locations to settle in. They identified a formidable range of hills with a fresh water stream running from one of them as the most likely choice, later known as “Mayton Hill”; our future capital state. Other options were beside a huge lake north of the hills or further into the desert on a flat plain with plenty of local wildlife residing there. Beyond this the land was hostile and bare.

“Once all the tests were complete, and we were given the all-clear, “The Hopeful Voyager” descended. Our arrival on the new planet is simply known as “Landing Day,” and it is from this point all calendars on Diomedia are dated. A new planet and a new beginning.

“Once we landed, we wheeled out several pre-assembled temporary houses to create a mobile town; these buildings were fragile and intended to last a decade at most but useful until we could erect permanent housing. We also brought out our potted vegetation and the livestock that we reared on the ship. We kept them near the mobile houses because we weren’t sure what kind of native animals lived here. And it was a good thing we brought them because Diomedia’s creatures have a tough texture, a bit like eating sandy rubber.

“It was a simple life to begin with and a tremendous community spirit prevailed. Everyone’s energy went into setting up the new states. And more hands would have definitely helped. But, unfortunately there was no sign of the second ship, “The Traveller”. Our vessels lost contact during the voyage and it was never re-established and sadly, we have no way of knowing their fate. It is speculated that the ship encountered technical failures, or perhaps hit by an asteroid and some hope that it still journeys through space, and shall arrive safely one day…no one can know. Those poor souls…

“Apart from the shadow cast from the missing ship, everyone was busy building our new settlements and our new lives and we’d no suspicions of what was to come. It all started with the death of a boy named Charlie Lockwood…”

*

“Pass me the ball!” A blond-haired child cried. He wiped a mop of hair out of his eyes, which immediately fell back in place once he moved his hand away.

“You’ve got to try a bit harder than that, Taylor.” An older boy around ten years old shoved him over and ran off with the ball. Anyone could recognise his face. This was Charlie.

The blond child got up and blew a raspberry at him and kicked the ground moodily. The housedroid rolled up beside him, and its caterpillar tracks crunched to a halt while it waited patiently for Taylor to continue. He looked up. His brother waited up ahead, ball tucked under his arm and smiling benignly. Charlie coaxed Taylor with a promise to take it easier on him when they reached the field.

He ran to catch up.

When they reached their field, they made their way towards the goal posts, a couple of boulders naturally set about two metres apart. A few smaller creatures munched at the vegetation, ignoring the children.

The two boys halted abruptly.

Although the sun shone directly overhead, sharp narrow shadows coloured the ground like zebra stripes. The largest of these detached from a goal post and floated upwards and then towards them until it was halfway across the field. Black-brown in colour, the haze was unusual and seemed alive; the holes in the mist appeared to shape a gaping maw, but as its dark form shrunk, the gaps disappeared; this was a Shade.

When the Shade reached one of the animals eating some dry shrubs, it hovered above it. The Shade flickered and twisted over the creature, almost touching the body before retreating away. It continued to float over the animal as it walked to another patch of shrubs.

Charlie went to investigate. Taylor remained, scared and obviously unwilling to go closer. Pulling at his brother’s sleeve, Taylor motioned back the way they had come. Charlie slapped his hand away.

“I want to check it out. You can stay here if you want, baby!”

Taylor was visibly torn between staying with his brother and running away. After some internal deliberation, the former won out.

“I’ll come with you… but be quick. I’m scared and I think it’s looking at us?”

“Don’t be stupid! Mist doesn’t have eyes. It can’t see anything,” he chided his brother. “Droid 603, follow us.”

Charlie slowly approached the Shade as Droid 603 trailed him a metre behind. Taylor followed, a few paces back.

The Shade heaved and contracted. The movement grew more pronounced as the boys drew closer. It reached out with translucent arms that beckoned, called, and moved from its spot above the animal and towards the children.

*

I spat out my coffee with laughter.

Another instance where the media anthropomorphised Shades- I have yet to see an accurate portrayal. It is not clear cut - it is not known whether they are sentient or mindless beings because they display instances of both. And having hunted these creatures for the best part of two decades, I should know. And they certainly do not act like ghostly paedophiles. Whoever created this documentary was definitely not a Hunter.

My interest in the program waned, just not enough to switch it off. I heard the representation of a Shade takeover was decent.

*

Slowly, the boys approached the Shade. Their arms lowered. Taylor’s face blanched in fear. He looked at his brother, who appeared nothing but determined.

Without warning, the creature surged forward and slammed into Charlie’s face. It gripped onto his neck and cheeks as Charlie stumbled back and fell over then the creature seemed to be absorbed into the boy. Taylor’s legs gave way and he dropped to the ground in terror. He closed his eyes and crawled away on his belly. A strange snarl came from his brother. Taylor kept his eyes shut. Droid 603 was circling them both uselessly. It was not programmed for this situation. Taylor shouted at it to get their parents and it hurtled away and back to town to bring assistance.

Charlie was convulsing wildly. Blood poured profusely from his mouth. His jaw had elongated and broadened quickly. His lips curled, exposing teeth like razor-sharp needles. His hands curled and nails lengthened. The transformation took mere minutes.

Then Charlie stopped shaking. He abruptly sat up as if pulled and then knelt on his haunches, his back curved unnaturally. His breathing returned to normal as the bleeding subsided into a small trickle. He crouched in the grass, low and motionless.

“Charlie? Charlie? Are you okay?” Taylor asked tentatively.

No response.

“Charlie?”

Suddenly, his brother looked up.

Hours later, a search party reached the field. A white ball lay discarded by the stone goal post, rolling back and forth in the wind.

The open field made the boys easy to spot. Their father broke into a run; even from a distance everyone could see the amount of blood on the ground. The others followed, drawing their guns in precaution.

Charlie crouched in the same hunched position, watching the new people. At his feet, Taylor lay sprawled across the ground, his body twisted and his throat torn.

When he reached them, their father slumped down and retched at the sight of his young son’s broken body.

Charlie’s face was hidden by a mask of blood. With a gaping maw, he lunged at his father. His new hunger was insatiable.

*

The images faded from the screen and the original presenter reappeared.

“All three bodies were returned to town and buried quietly. In their complete confusion, the search party decided to hide what happened and even the grief-stricken mother was not privy to the truth, that Charlie attacked his father and then was shot by the search party. Instead they claimed their deaths were a tragic accident that occurred in the fields- they climbed and fell from some boulders; Taylor’s and his father’s partially eaten remains attributed to a scavenger.

“Inevitably truths will out, particularly unpleasant ones, and over the course of the next few months there were several strikingly similar murders. All victims had torn stomach cavities and evidence indicating partial consumption. The murderers lingered near the bodies after death, defending the kill like a predator and the majority killed due to their predilection for extreme violence against would-be captors; as learned to a regretful cost, it’s unsafe to tackle them unarmed. Those captured were hospitalised for testing. Eventually, the original search party admitted everything to the police. Some blamed them for their silence and called for them to be exiled from the colony. However, their voices were few and this did not happen. After the Shades discovery, authorities agreed it was impossible to foresee the threat because nothing resembled them on Earth and they were acquitted.

“The police exhumed Charlie’s body. Autopsy results indicated his skeleton was severely distorted and did not resemble injuries sustained from a fall, as the search party originally told them. Also, despite the decay, they found evidence of human flesh in his stomach confirming the link between Charlie and the later murderers. Every person infected by a Shade shares the same distinctive traits of distorted jaw, mutated spine and strong nails like claws, sharp enough to easily pierce flesh. Inhabitants were informed of the symptoms and told to avoid those infected.

“Doctors continued their investigations and concluded the transformations resulted from an unknown malady affecting the senses and skeleton; a new type of plague for a new planet. And frantically, they tried to find a cure. They combined samples of DNA with various drugs; used radiotherapy to target the altered cells and brain surgery to rid them of their violent streaks and return them to normal, all to no avail. Treating it remains a mystery to this day.

“A small minority of infected escaped from the settlements into the wilderness, their hunger drawing them to the farms and native herds beyond before their friends or family knew of their infection, and are occasionally spotted by farmers out in their fields or leaving behind the brutal murders of livestock. People felt afraid to venture outside the settlements alone or without a weapon in case they encountered a diseased individual. City walls were erected in an attempt to stop the infected returning and armed men stationed along them all hours of the day. Nonetheless, with a lack of understanding about how the disease originated, people still became infected and the murders kept occurring; the wall guards and police could not respond quickly enough to reporting infected sightings.

“Nowhere was confirmed as a safe zone. No one wanted to leave their homes without a medical mask or a weapon. Many couldn’t help but think of the Black Death in Medieval Europe; no one knew who would be struck next. It seemed like a divine curse. Some pioneers worried there was something doomed about their chosen location, so many decided to pack their possessions and settle by the substantial lake several miles further up the coast from the original settlement; it was separated from the ocean by a narrow strip of land; this city state is now known as “Winsford Lake”. A smaller group of pioneers decided to relocate further inland to see if life was safer and cleaner near the mountains and named the city state “Springhaven”, restricting their contact to the other colonies ever since.

“For years, doctors tried to treat this mysterious illness. Extensive testing didn’t find any viral or bacterial reason for the strange behaviour of the infected. However, they did discover an abnormality on all afflicted patients’ brain scans—a curious shadow that fluxed across the brain. These shadows moved independently from scan to scan and most often settled over the frontal lobe, where they slowly ate away at the brain. These shadows seemed to be alive—turning, swirling and dispersing inside diseased skulls. Doctors could not make any sense of it; such a thing was unheard of in medical history, only loosely related to a parasite. They could not understand where the disease came from, how it entered the skull or how to extract it. Surgery proved ineffective because when a patient’s skull was opened, they found only healthy brain, although with a portion eaten away as if cauterized. The blots on the scans resembled sun spots or shadows, so the doctors named it “Umbras Cerebros” or as it is simply abbreviated, “Umbras.” ”

“Typically, infected patients die in their beds after three years fighting the disease, their brain eaten through to a point where it caused respiration difficulties, heart irregularities and paralysis. But in death they are still highly contagious. During the first few minutes post-mortem, a member of medical staff always became infected; as we know now, Shades leave the dead body to search for their next host in the immediate area. Contractors were commissioned to create specialised cells, in which everything inside could be frozen with a liquid nitrogen spray. Once it was safe to enter, the body could be removed to a safe location and incinerated, the Shade unable to leave the frozen body. Since this discovery, there have been no cases of the disease spreading from a patient to another host and it is now the accepted method in hospitals for the disposal of contaminated bodies.

“After a long spell of experimentation, a vet inadvertently made a medical breakthrough for Umbras when he witnessed the moment of contamination first hand.”

A middle-aged man appeared in the centre of the room with his legs again disappearing behind the table. He held his glasses in one hand with the other thrust in his trouser pocket. He began:

“It started off as an unremarkable day, as these things tend to do, and at the time I was tending to a sick goat and didn’t immediately notice the other animals’ unusual behaviour. The farmer left to find out what spooked his goats and I didn’t see him go. When I looked up from my work, I noticed the goats jostling at the far side of the field behind me and they strained against the fence like they were trying to escape. I searched for the farmer and eventually saw him at the edge of the field. A curious dark mist suddenly descended upon him swirling frantically trying to force entry. Then it entered his body and he fell, convulsing, to the floor. I couldn’t believe it.

“Uncertain of the best course of action, I left the farm to find help- I wasn’t really thinking clearly- and when I returned to the farm with a doctor and some armed men, we found the farmer devouring the sick goat. He was ripping into its flesh like a beast. We were horrified. He tried to charge us, but we tranquilized him and when he was unconscious, I quickly inspected his body and noted he’d the same lengthened jaw and claw-like nails that affected those infected with Umbras. And his spine extended and his stance clearly altered, though he was sprawled upon the ground. A link formed in my mind.

“When we took him to the hospital, they ran usual tests for suspected Umbras infection and I managed to view the scans, which is not normally permitted, but I think the doctors were far too busy to notice my presence, and I saw a peculiar moving shadow across the farmer’s brain and I enlightened them about the strange mist that attacked him before he became ill. I ventured my half-formed idea about the connection between the shadows or Shades, as they’re now known, and the disease. Once the doctors confirmed it was indeed Umbras, they concluded the disease originated from these Shades.”

At this point, the original presenter took over again. “Shades enter the body by forced inhalation via the nose, mouth and, in some rare cases, through the eyes and latch onto the victim’s brain like a parasite. Doctors believe they are intercellular, endoparasites of unknown qualities; a free-moving parasite and not linked to any particular cell within a body. Umbras also lends the host increased physical durability, strength and speed. However, these advancements are outweighed as the parasite sucks the life out of the host; the longest recorded length of infection before death is just three and a half years.

“With a name and a cause for the disease, all that was left was to increase measures to stop infection, protect ourselves from the Shade menace and find a cure.

“Today, sixty-two years on from the Shade discovery, Mayton Hill is shaped by our need to prevent and protect against Shade attacks. The colony benefited from the rolling hills that overlook the coast. High walls surround the town with an even parapet running the length of it; even the farms, directly outside the town, have walls surrounding them to protect livestock. All wall guards are fully covered by specialised uniforms, armed with guns and gas masks to protect them from a substance as dangerous and as deadly as any toxic gas. They are our front line of defence. Every inhabitant must carry a gas mask on their person at all times, and children are taught in schools about the procedures for an attack and how to attach their masks properly.

“Winsford Lake, the second largest settlement, adopted a similar strategy. Guards patrol the walkways and on the very edges of the town; although their gas masks are different and allow citizens to spend a few minutes underwater in emergency situations. Shades avoid water and will not attack a person already immersed.

“As humanity adapted to live with the threat, we discovered that Shades are a valuable resource once we learnt how to utilise their power. Volcanologists studying the activity near the Droma vent observed Shades actively avoiding sulphur dioxide clouds and witnessed an instance where a creature was hit by a blast; it densified within seconds, turning into a tarlike fluid. They collected it and brought the sample to the hospitals for testing and there scientists discovered Shades bodies are highly flammable in their condensed, liquid forms.

“But almost fifty times greater is their ability to burn whilst inside a creature; the animal’s solid form amplifies a Shade’s reactiveness and it is greater than any other fuel when set alight. This unusual discovery occurred when they first started to dispose of infected bodies via cremation. The original furnaces melted due to the extreme heat.

“Humans later learnt to utilise this fuel source and black energy is widely used to power homes, cars and towns, despite the difficulty and danger in acquiring it by registered Hunters. Black energy is a controversial subject, ever since it was first introduced, and activists’ constantly petition and protest against the way be-Shaded animals are burnt in an incinerator and have tried to end the practice, though they had little success in the courts. Also, to avoid targeting by activists, Shade Hunters remain anonymous for safety reasons…”

Shade hunting carries a lot of dangers and I do not need a programme to tell me about that fact. I switched the device off.

Chapter 1 - Landmine

From my vantage point at the top of the valley, I observed the miles of rocky desert on either side. Its familiar territory and a favourite site for Hunters, even for a freelancer like me. Rain hasn’t fallen here for months, possibly years. Above, the sky was clear and the sun nearly overhead. The ground so dry it crunches underfoot and dust floats around your boots—clouds of the stuff roll along the plains, expanding by the minute. Only the strongest, hardiest plants grow in this region—leafless, twiggy trees and shrubs, scattered in clumps across the landscape. About a kilometre in the distance, I watched a herd of gi’ mont dragons traipsing towards a couple of scant trees. All eight were twice as tall as humans, and twice as long, too, their thick legs stomped on the ground, kicking up more dust, and their pale reptilian skin shimmered in the sunlight, herbivores but they could be aggressive if you got too close. There aren’t many predatory animals on Diomedia and none with a taste for human flesh; apparently, we’re toxic to them and they can sense it and usually give us a wide berth. Most animals are scaled here and frankly disgusting to eat unless you don’t have another choice.

But I’m not a naturalist. I’m a Hunter. Though not of the gi’ mont lizards below. My targets are other, more threatening creatures with bodies so dark and ghostly they pass for shadows to the untrained eye. Droids can’t help track them. Shades just avoid them and dart out of range. So, the task of acquiring them for ore falls on registered Hunters. As a freelancer with a proven reputation and Master Hunter status, my services are in demand by all the major black energy suppliers. Yesterday, I was commissioned by ShadeCo, the leader in the market, to help them achieve their monthly quota. ShadeCo also, happily enough, happens to be the company offering the biggest payment for Shade ore.

Midday is the best time to locate Shades because natural shadows are short, so their peculiarities are clear. I’ve been in the area for a while and it doesn’t seem promising. I haven’t seen any signs suggesting a Shade is nearby and my eyepiece is quiet.

Time to move, Butcher.

I re-enter in my Jeep, put my equipment bag in the back and gestured for the engine to turn on and continued along the uneven ground. In the quiet valley, the engine roared and echoed. Each crunch and snap marked the plants that my vehicle left in its path. Dust whipped up behind the Jeep, obscuring the rear-view mirror.

After a time, I stopped again to assess the area.

A cluster of trees in the distance looked promising—the plants looped around in a donut shape with a muddy pool in the centre. The unusually long shadows darted off from the trees, left, right and centre. No animals around despite being the most habitable space for miles; animals typically have a special sense for these creatures and spook easily.

I parked near the circle of trees and didn’t exit immediately, just waited. I folded my arms over the steering wheel and noticed my left one was tanned with dust because I’d leaned it on the windowsill during the drive. This stuff gets everywhere if you’re not careful.

My eyepiece drew my attention to two medium density Shades. Judging from previous experience, they’d probably bring in seven hundred Diomedian Argents apiece inside a goat and maybe scrape fifty outside. One was attached to the largest tree in the oasis, the trunk three times as wide as the others. It seemed like an obvious choice because the shadow was larger and offered greater camouflage. The second Shade was ten metres to my left, flickering in the shadow of a boulder, like air in a scorching desert.

Before getting started, I checked my gas mask was fixed properly. The mask is by far a Hunter’s most important piece of equipment. Shades cannot enter a body with a covered mouth, eyes, ears, or nose. Keeping low and watchful, I carefully opened the door and crept around to the back of the vehicle. In the boot, I’d a goat lying prostrate, its legs bound together by string and the sedatives slowly wearing off. It bleated sleepily when it saw me. Instead, I lifted it up and carried it over my shoulders- an easy task for a guy my size.

Next, I moved towards the trees, cautiously entering through a gap. I walked to the centre and hopped over the waterlogged spaces. With one hand, I steadied the goat on my shoulders while the other held my rifle, pre-loaded with Shade-effective ammo. These bullets are designed to release a plume of sulphurous gas on impact, which merge with a Shade’s cells, condensing and killing it in seconds. The weapon would be used as a last resort. The aim was to get one in the goat. There was a nice space to place the animal between a teardrop shaped bog and a fallen tree. I lowered it down and untied the rope around its belly, all the while never taking my eyes from the shifting shadows. I pegged its rope to the ground and tied it to the collar around the goat’s neck. Finally, I untied the string around its legs, nicked one of its legs with a knife so that it bled a little, and stepped back.

Almost immediately, the two Shades began to flicker and detach from their resting places. I noticed I was too close too late to get out of range. They would attack me instead of the goat if I moved quickly. They prefer intelligent beings perhaps because there is more brain to feast on – I never trained at a Hunting Academy so I’m not sure on specifics. Drowsily, the goat rolled onto its belly and staggered upright. Giving it a hard push, I coaxed it forward. I raised my rifle and aimed at the closest Shade.

The bigger drifted over like a swirling ball of black chaos and hovered near the animal. The fur on the goat’s back bristled and fear immobilized it. It shouldn’t be long now. I held my breath.

Moments passed. Nothing happened. My aim alternated between the two Shades.

Take the fucking bait!

Even without control of an animal’s body, a Shade is dangerous and I’d the scars to prove it. Automatically, I touched the straps on my gas mask. They were secure.

Unexpectedly, a third Shade jumped forward. It surprised me. The Shade hadn’t registered on the eyepiece, so it’s a small one. It smacked the goat in the face and gripped its mouth to force it open. The Shade on its back vibrated furiously and attacked the other, as if it violated a code—the stake claimed on the first touch. It wrestled the intruder away from the goat’s mouth. Most Hunters usually sit on the fence when it comes to Shade’s intelligence. Sometimes they appear to talk to each other and move with purpose. And other times just plain stupid- I’ve seen a Shade attempt to possess itself and do loop-the-loops chasing its lower section. So it’s hard to say either way.

The Shades continued to struggle above the afflicted goat, which fell to the ground, injured and terrified.

Meanwhile, the other watched almost interestedly, waiting. Then it surged forward, lengthening and entering the animal through its nose until nothing remained outside of the body. Only a trickle of blood indicated it had gone in.

The air filled with static and vibrated with energy. As the goat convulsed, the two Shades angrily scraped and tore at its fur, trying to force the other Shade out. It was too late. The transformation had begun. Foam streamed from the goat’s mouth. I’d got the jackpot, now to collect the others.

I fired.

The gun shot rang out and the stock recoiled into my shoulder. When the shot smacked straight into one of the floating Shades, a gush of toxic air broke out of the bullet and engulfed it. Seconds later, the Shade splattered onto the ground as a tar-like substance.

The other Shade bolted as I approached. I dropped down to one knee and took aim at the retreating creature, then lowered my weapon. It’d be wasted. The bullets are effective at a distance of twenty metres or less and the Shade was already out of range. Within the industry, its well-established current hunting guns are outdated and an upgrade long overdue.

Leaping to my feet, I strode over to the goat and unravelled the rope around its chest. Crucial minutes passed since the entrance of the Shade and its convulsions started to ease. It bent its head back and stared at me while its legs shuddered independently. Straddling the goat, pinning it with my knees, I forced its legs together and wrapped them up with the rope. I knotted and double knotted it to ensure it was secure, but the goat’s head was still free and it tried to take a chunk out of my arm. I punched it on the nose to subdue it and tied its jaw together with a belt.

Despite the bonds, the animal fought and shook and bounced off of the ground. I carried it with both hands to the Jeep. Climbing into the boot and then over the backseat, I locked the goat in a wire cage and padlocked the door. I shifted the cage onto the floor and wedged it behind the front and back seats. There was another cage on the backseat too holding a Shade-infected chicken I’d caught earlier. It pecked angrily at the bars as soon as I approached, but was safely held inside. Next to that was a bag containing a canister with a stopper. I took it out and returned to the tree circle.

The sludgy mess of the dead Shade had spread out and some started to seep into the mud. Stooping down, I opened the canister and placed it face down in the middle of the sludge and it began to suck up the liquid. When there was none left on the ground, the canister flipped itself upright and resealed itself.

Satisfied with my catch, I slung my gun over my shoulder and strode over to the Jeep. Another successful hunt complete! There wasn’t anything to do now except return to Mayton and claim my money.

*

“Is there a whole one inside this chicken? A whole Shade? It looks too small to contain one… ” The young man crouched by the wire cage and poked his finger at the mesh. Stupid.

I was about to slap his hand away when he straightened up, amazement still showing on his smooth face. The collar of his technician’s coat slipped down and he quickly readjusted it – clearly too big. I hadn’t seen him before and doubted he’d been in the role long or he wouldn’t be asking questions like that one. He’s eager though – I’d give him that, if damn slow.

Hours elapsed since I’d returned from the desert. These questions were getting irritating.

“How long have you worked here again?”

The youth glanced down at the heavy oak table next to him embarrassed and mumbled something I didn’t catch. This table seemed out of place in a building otherwise cold and metallic. A large industrial scale sat on top of it with various screens bulging from the sides. Currently, all of them were blank. Inside the birdcage next to the scales, the chicken flapped its wings against the mesh, its clucks muffled by the tape wrapped around its beak. He checked his MID. This device is worn under the skin of the forearm and the images are entirely viewable. The skin around it looked pink so it must’ve been recently fitted, which would’ve placed him at sixteen, seventeen tops. He quickly read the screen. I glanced over his shoulder and saw that he was viewing the current price list, which indicated the amount of energy in each Shade per gram and the monetary worth.

“Could you please put the chicken onto the scales? Still in the cage, of course,” he said, dividing his nervous gaze between the MID and me. “And you also need to fill in the H1-8 form—the one saying how much this animal weighed before the Shade infected it.” This statement was nearly a question, as if he needed me to confirm. Inside the cage, the chicken clucked loudly – the tape had come unstuck.

After a short pause, he continued. “It says here all the cages have a standard issue weight and they can be deducted from the reading…but I still need to see the form.”

Sighing in annoyance, I rooted through the pocket and emptied the contents onto the table. A grooved long-bladed knife clattered on the worktop, closely followed by a parking card.

“I’ve lost it.” That was a lie. I hadn’t bothered. His predecessor hadn’t needed anything except the captured Shade, so I’d stopped completing the pointless H1-8 forms.

His face whitened. Deflated, the young man could not think of a way around the dilemma and let out a long breath of air. Apparently, his training hadn’t covered this. He didn’t know how to pay me without the information and I wasn’t going to leave empty-handed, so it was an awkward situation.

When it was obvious he couldn’t come up with a solution, I suggested, “I could fill in the form now?”

“I suppose,” he mused and thought about it, “These forms are all electronically timed and dated when they’re signed by the Hunter. And it’d look suspicious if it’s signed a few minutes after you wrote it… unless…I wrote out a new one for you?”

“Fine by me,” I shifted my weight onto my other foot. This is going to take a while.

This process was much smoother when Benji worked here. He was a grumpy bastard but very capable—and he understood the realities of hunting. And he knew that form completion isn’t on most Hunters’ minds—there were up to twenty-five forms that could be entered for each hunt but only five are actually mandatory, and they’re a waste of everyone’s bloody time. Benji knew that. In fact, the guy before him did too. In a few years, maybe the kid would relax once he’s familiar with the job.

He sat down at the table and loaded a fresh form onto his MID.

“Surname?”

“Butcher.”

“Forename?”

“Landmine.”