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Fan Fiction: Short Stories

The Evil from the Hills
by Greg Daulton

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Chapter 5 - The Shadow Strikes
  

  The next afternoon, Margo Lane was with Cranston in his room at the motel. They were going over the previous night's events.

  "Well Margo, did Harry and Mr. Rowe receive their orders from The Shadow last night?" Cranston wondered.

  "Yes they did Lamont, but by the time Harry and I got back to the bar, John Rowe said you had retired early to unpack. They went to the cabin as instructed, but didn't find anything new. Say, did you have a good night Lamont," Margo questioned.

  "Margo, what I'm about to tell you may shock you. I left last night, after hearing on the radio about a disturbance at a local construction area. I got there and, well it was terrible, absolutely terrible," Cranston declared with a sigh.

  "What is it Lamont, are you alright?" Margo asked with great concern.

  "Margo, have you ever heard of reanimation?"

  "Reanimation, no. What is it?"

  "It means to bring the dead back to life."

  "Oh that's ghastly," Margo pronounced in disgust.

  "Well, it's also scientifically impossible. Apparently, this Delilah woman from the cabin possesses the power to reanimate. She plans to bring enough people back to life, then take over the town."

  "She's mad Lamont. Mad…"

  "I know Margo. She apparently has henchmen all over town. This Billy-Jack person and others need to be watched carefully."

  "Sure Lamont, but what did you see last night?"

  "Bodies. Dozens of bodies piled up at the site, failed attempts at reanimation. They were being dismembered by four of Delilah's cronies. The Shadow got what he needed out of them. The police came and hauled them away."

  "Yes Lamont but…" Margo's voice trailed off, as a knock was heard at Cranston's door.

  Cranston rose from a desk chair and went to the door. Upon opening it, Harry Vincent and John Rowe walked in.

  "Lamont, Margo, the radio just announced that they found those killers. Those people who had been murdering others in the town. The police got them," Harry uttered.

  "Boy I sure feel safer being in Torrenceville now," John Rowe spoke up.

  "Murders? That's strange Harry, Margo didn't tell me about any murders. I didn't even know about this," Cranston exclaimed, trying to look as confused as possible.

  "Let's turn on the radio and give a listen," Harry posed.

  Cranston quickly switched on the radio and the four listened keenly:
  Yes friends, today brings good news for Torrenceville. The people of this town no longer have to sleep halfheartedly. The mysterious murders of the past few weeks have been solved. Last night, just after we reported to you that disturbance at the construction site, police picked up four men and discovered the grisly remains of bodies. These four men have a trial date sometime next week. That's right friends, you can all sleep soundly. In other news…
  Cranston turned off the radio. The four of them looked at each other in surprise. As far as they were concerned, this radio broadcast meant nothing. However, for the sake of secrecy, Cranston had to play dumb, appear as if he knew nothing.

  "Well that's good then. I had no idea that this was even happening. But now they are solved. That's that," Cranston said with satisfaction.

  "Well just as you say Lamont, that's that. John and I have a day of game hunting planned. We best be off John," Harry suggested, looking at John.

  "Why Harry," Margo spoke up. "I never knew you to be a sporting man."

  "Too true, Margo. But truth be told, I always have loved to try new things. Come along John."

  "Right Harry," John Rowe followed.

  As the two men left Cranston's room, Margo moved to secure the door. She looked intently at Cranston, for she could see that he was forming a plan.

  "What is it Lamont, you look troubled."

  "Margo, we've got to make them pay. It happens tonight. Get Harry and Mr. Rowe. Here's what I want the three of you to do…"


  That night, a weird form floated through the sky, in perfect horizontal motion; beyond pine clad hills, over the grounds of the mysterious cabin. As it touched down on a hill, not far behind the large, creepy cottage, the object was revealed as a plane, more specifically an autogyro. From out of the peculiar aircraft's cockpit came a terrible figure in black garb. It was The Shadow.

  Moving gracefully in the direction of the eerie cabin, the weird avenger of evil blended seamlessly with the darkness. Soon, a silhouette unlike any ever seen raced across the structure's exterior. Instantly The Shadow appeared, briefly pausing to position his ear to the entrance of the place.

  Suddenly, the Shadow heard wicked, haunting laughter, followed by footsteps on the other side of the door. Someone was approaching. He moved off of the porch, and hastily disappeared somewhere behind the cabin. Instantly, the cabin's entrance flew open as if effortless.

  From out of the cabin stepped Billy-Jack. The fiendish, old man stood at the doorway, looking around to see if he could find any evidence of intrusion. Hearing something strange at the rear of the massive log structure, he moved across the makeshift porch to vanish behind the cabin.

  The rear of the cabin gave way to endless grassy, earthy hills. A small power generator rested up against the back of the cabin. Billy-Jack moved beyond the generator to a pile of six bodies, presumably of the people that had been declared murdered on the radio broadcast the night before.

  With no visible disturbances, the old, fiendish man started to return to the front of the cabin. Suddenly, from out of nowhere came a furious, blind rush of violence, as The Shadow began making fast work of Billy-Jack. He threw the old man up against the cabin's wooded structure, pinning him, his feet dangling sporadically.

  "You scum," The Shadow uttered. "You'll pay for bringing hell to this little town."

  "You don't scare me, you fool," the old man proclaimed.

  "No? Well then, we'll just have to do something about that," the Master of Darkness promised, throwing Billy-Jack into the heavily wooded area, behind the cabin. Watching ever so closely, The Shadow waited for the man to return to his feet. It appeared that he was out cold.

  Wasting no time, The Shadow returned to the front of the cabin. Quickly moving in front of the cabin door, he gave a swift, harsh kick. The door flew open. There, standing in the doorway, The Shadow witnessed the old lady known as Delilah, seated in the lotus position on the floor, in the center of the huge, empty, one room cabin. The impious woman appeared frail, in a discolored ceremonial robe, with a shriveled face, large nose and grimy, grayish hair.

  "So you are the one called Delilah," the Shadow posed.

  "Yes and you will soon be dead, intruder," the ugly old woman assured, pulling a large pistol from her dingy robe.

  "Ha ha ha ha ha. What are you going to do with that, woman?" The Shadow taunted.

  Without hesitation, Delilah pulled the trigger. At the sound of the shot, the Master of Darkness faded into nothingness. Delilah couldn't believe her eyes. At the doorway where The Shadow had stood, nothing remained.

  "Where… where'd you go?" Delilah cackled.

  "I am all around you woman, everywhere around you," The Shadow declared.

  "That's a delightful disappearing act you do Mister?"

  "To some I am the voice of reason, but to others like you, the voice of justice. I am The Shadow."

  "You're a fool is what you are! You'll never be able to stop The Order of Twilight. This is bigger than the both of us."

  "You are responsible for the deaths of dozens of people," The Shadow announced, suddenly appearing in a dark corner.

  "Death? Ha ha ha," Delilah cackled. "The people I have killed have been granted immortality. They were given the Twilight's Kiss," she said with conviction, staring at the menacing stature in the corner.

  "The Twilight's Kiss is nothing more than a relic of ancient eastern tradition. There is no truth to it. Those dozens of bodies that were uncovered at the construction site can vouch for that. You're mad Delilah," the Shadow condemned.

  "Mad, Mr. Shadow? You have forgotten one thing. This is the Order of Twilight. My undead army will attack," she promised.

  "Maybe you'd better call your reinforcements, murderer. I am getting bored."

  "As you wish," Delilah agreed.

  Suddenly, the scary old woman clapped her hands. An aggressive tremor overcame the cabin. The Shadow moved with great speed to the entrance. As he crossed the cabin's threshold, exiting, he noticed a crowd of people trudging up the hill. Moving to solid ground, directly in front of the cabin, he drew his trusty .45 automatics.

  Even in the dimness of night, it was evident that these burly cutthroats were armed to the teeth with guns, knives and just about anything they could get their hands on. Surely they were not the undead army that Delilah spoke of. Barely fifty feet distanced the Shadow from the mob, as he rapidly gripped his pistols and opened fire. Shots roared into the teeth of the oncoming attackers, even before they had a chance to fire. As he took them out, one by one, it seemed that the mob of assailants was never-ending.

  Without warning, a painful jolt struck the back of The Shadow's neck, causing him to lose all balance and drop to the ground. From behind stood Billy-Jack, gripping a large lead pipe. Realizing that his quarry lay unconscious, he threw the pipe to the ground, and proceeded to drag the Shadow by his feet, disappearing behind the cabin. The mob of armed goons continued roving up the hill, towards their master's cabin, as if endless.


  Not a moment later, a green Packard sedan rolled up to the bottom of the hill. As soon as the car stalled, three figures exited and began climbing the hill. They were The Shadow's agents; with Harry Vincent leading the pack, John Rowe following second and Margo Lane trailing not so far behind. They stopped at the middle of the hill's massive slope to briefly convene, and then separating just as quickly, they each moved in conflicting directions.

  Harry headed up the center of the hill, coming into direct contact with Billy-Jack, who was at the center of the crazed mob.

  "Well now, the boy from the motel. Whaddya' say sonny? I thought you might be connected to that weird fella' in black," Billy-Jack acknowledged Harry.

  "It's over old man," Harry promised.

  "Maybe for you," Billy-Jack countered, taking a swing towards Harry.

  "You move pretty fast geezer," Harry uttered, dodging out of the way.

  "You fool, you can't win. You're outnumbered and outgunned," Billy-Jack threatened, as a horde of seemingly mindless individuals crowded around Harry.

  Harry was trapped. These fanatical people had encircled him. Quickly, he searched for an escape route, none. They were moving in, closer and closer. He did the only thing he could think of, and dove towards Billy-Jack, knocking him out of the swarming circle and freeing himself, briefly, from the imposing mob.

  Meanwhile, John Rowe was having difficulty of his own. He had gotten entangled with some of the crazed mob. Growing increasingly anxious, he pulled out his heavy revolver and was shooting everything in site. The problem was this mob of people was so large, that he feared he didn't have enough ammunition to finish them all off. He moved with great precision, from person to person, shooting each one, but the task seemed never-ending. It was clear to John Rowe that whatever fiendish power was being held over these folks, that it was strong and unwavering.

  Margo Lane had moved around the side of the cabin and was trying her best to go undetected. As she made her way to the back of the cabin, she was stopped in her tracks at the macabre site of the dead bodies. But there, just beyond the bodies was The Shadow. He was propped up, in a seated position, against the cabin's exterior. She quickly ran to his aid and realized that he was unconscious.

  "Oh Lamont," she whispered to herself in concern.

  She reached down and tried coaxing him awake by shaking him, then lightly striking his masked face. Without fail, the Master of Darkness stirred briefly. Realizing where he was, he quickly stood upright.

  "Margo, thank you. Vincent and Rowe?"

  "They're out front. Are you alright?"

  "I'll be fine. Take Rowe's car. Get to a phone, and call the police."

  "Right," she agreed, then hurried off, out of sight.

  The Shadow took a moment to compose himself, observing that his trusty automatics were missing. He would have to temporarily do without however, for there was no time to lose. With great confidence, he sprang to the front of the cabin. The scene out front was a desperate one. Harry and John Rowe were fighting armed men with bare fists and a lot of luck. They had finished off most of the gunmen and were now taking on dangerous knife wielders and crazed muggers.

  The Shadow slipped by unnoticed, maneuvering his way back into the cabin. Once inside, he caught Delilah by surprise.

  "I have come for you Delilah. You're finished," The Shadow pledged, hiding behind a cloak of invisibility.

  "Ah, so you're back. Where are you? Show yourself."

  With that, a faint outline appeared all around the room. The evil old woman fired a shot from her revolver, then another, then another.

  "You're too late Shadow. The people outside are just members of the Order. The real chaos is happening in the town. They are the one's I have brainwashed. They are the one's taking over the town, so that the Order will rule Torrenceville. It's happening as we speak. I have entered their thoughts. They will have no choice but to surrender to the Order of the Twilight."

  "Ha ha ha ha ha… Crime Does Not Pay. You're scheme will never work, for I am entering the mind's of those poor people. I will set them straight."

  "No, no," Delilah screamed, firing another shot at a blank silhouette on the far wall.

  "Yes, yes. You are through."

  Suddenly, something odd happened. The sinister old Delilah began laughing hysterically. She had suddenly been overtaken by her own madness.

  "Well, I've got one shot left. I will save it for myself," she said in a final declaration, placing the revolver to her mouth and pulling the trigger.

  As soon as the gun went off, The Shadow exited the cabin. The scene outside had improved greatly, because Harry and John Rowe had obviously finished fighting off the demented crowd. The agents were nowhere to be found. The bodies of Delilah's cronies had been scattered in grisly fashion all over the hill. The Shadow noticed Billy-Jack lying face down, not far from the front of the cabin. In the old man's hands were the Shadow's trademark weapons: two .45 automatic pistols. He quickly raced over to the corpse of the old man to retrieve his guns. As police cars began to arrive at the bottom of the hill, The Shadow quickly dematerialized into nothingness.


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