Available Darkness Season 2

last number, are you sure?”
    Shadow looked at the paper, then back up, coughing more blood into his hand. He smeared it on his shirt and nodded yes.
    “You know it?” Tiny asked.
    “Yes, it belongs to Hope.”

    * * * *

CHAPTER 7 — Hannah

    The morning crawled, as did the afternoon to follow.
    After Hannah took the thousand years she promised to prepare for the day, she took her phone from the dresser. She packed it with earbuds in her purse, anxious for the minute she could be alone with her phone.
    It didn’t happen on the drive to El Montaña, anywhere on the tour of the vineyard, or at any time during her one chance to slip into the bathroom without Greg. The bathroom was small, and quaint like the rest of the winery. She was only inside for a second, barely having closed the door and not yet locking it, when Greg slipped in behind her. He said it would be “romantic” to use the bathroom at the same time.
    She smiled like she meant it, glad she didn’t have to go number two, and emptied her bladder while cursing the interruption and ignoring the weight of the phone like a brick in her purse.
    Only later, after the tour when they were sitting in the restaurant, after wine was poured and appetizers ordered, but before the bruschetta was brought to the table, Greg got a call and excused himself, looking at Hannah with apologetic eyes.
    Hannah nodded, feeling grateful but looking patient, then Greg left, and she yanked her phone from her purse. She inserted the earbuds, then pressed play on her recording as her heart started to race even faster.
    At first there was nothing, but as Hannah scrubbed her finger across the recording, she found a spike in the volume. She rewound the recording a few seconds, stopped, then started it back from a spot where Greg had stress in his voice.
    “She dreamed about John again last night.”
    Pause …
    “Yes, I’m sure. What do you want me to do?”
    Another pause …
    “Are you certain, Mr. Cromwell?”
    The longest pause so far …
    Then, “Yes, I’ll do it before we return to the house. Don’t worry. Hannah won’t suspect a thing.
    Hannah looked up as Greg pulled his chair from the table and sat, smiling.
    An earbud fell from her ear.
    “Whatchya’ listening to?” he asked.

    TO BE CONTINUED…

EPISODE 10:
    PROLOGUE — Duncan

    In Duncan’s dream, he was reliving the funeral of his closest and last true friend Ed Baldwin — Caleb’s adopted father.
    Ed died of a heart attack just shy of Caleb’s sixteenth birthday, and the boy was devastated. Caleb spoke to no one: not his friends, girlfriend, or even his mother Myriam. He stood outside the funeral home, pacing back and forth in the parking lot, eyes wild and hair disheveled.
    Duncan went outside, unsure what to say, so he said nothing. He just stood beside Caleb, waiting for the boy to speak.
    The young man looked up at Duncan, angry, confused, and eyes brimming with tears.
    “Why?” was all he could ask.
    “I wish I knew,” Duncan said, pulling the boy into a strong but gentle hug.
    Duncan had buried more friends and loved ones than he could count. While he missed Ed, sympathy and sadness were only practiced. Truth was, he felt no such pain of loss any longer. At funerals, Duncan often found himself mourning his loss of feeling more than anything.
    Time marched on, and people came and people went. Same as ever.
    Little did Caleb know he was an Otherworlder who would stop aging in his 40s and bury many people himself. Perhaps, he, too, would become as jaded as Duncan.
    The first funeral of a loved one was always roughest.
    Caleb broke down into tears, and turned away, red-faced. “This is all my fault.”
    “What do you mean?” Duncan had asked.
    “I killed him.”
    Duncan woke from the dream.

    * * * *

CHAPTER 1 — Duncan

    Duncan paced his basement wondering what Jacob planned for him next.
    He was growing restless, and, oddly enough, already hungry again. Duncan felt near starving, though not for food. He was hungry to take another life. The housekeeper, Melora, left him feeling more alive than he’d ever felt. The energy surge, along with her vicious flood of memories and experiences, was more powerful than any drug he’d ever taken — and Duncan had taken a great many over the years: for recreation, experiments in self-improvement, and general need.
    Feeding was like acid and opiates, rolled into a tantric orgasm and multiplied by a million. It was a bit like a bad trip, but only