Between the Shadows, Prologue

Two trains and fifteen minutes ago, Daniel Evans’ life was perfect.

He slid the door to the final compartment open. Greeted with scattered faces – uncaring and bland, he sighed. Nothing new. Thin fluorescent lights mounted to the roof of the compartment left little light to expel any shadow trying to invade.

A light at the back of the car flickered slightly. Shadows played on each person’s face, obscuring their features and transforming them into something else.

Something less than human.

He shivered slightly and averted his eyes.

He pushed past several men dressed in identical black suits – dirty carbon copies of himself. The suits were a staple of their position as Prefects. At least that’s what he used to be. The Wretched were after him now.

The slight rocking of the car on the tracks left a rumble growing and faltering with each new track crossed. He stared at the ground, trying to keep from focusing on the task at hand.

He wasn’t succeeding.

Seventeen minutes ago, Daniel had been a functioning member of society. This latest train – the third and last in his short train-jumping career – careened toward its next stop. He suspected he had already passed the thin line of safety, impossible to detect but all too noticeable in hindsight.

There was little time to escape from their grasp. Running was the only option. Running, coupled with a blind hope of finding somewhere safe to hide, didn’t give him much to go on. Exaggerated stories and water cooler discussion guided him through the underworld of the city.

The intercom above crackled to life. “Next stop . . .” Silence.

On any other day, the slight pause would have gone unnoticed. However, to a man on the run, that pause spelled out his ultimate capture. Standing up, Daniel scanned the train for any quick exits.

“Central Square,” the announcer stated, in a calm and soothing voice. A click signaled the end of the announcement. Daniel breathed a sigh of relief.

Feeling the train slow down, Daniel’s breath caught in his chest. As the train ground to a halt and the doors started to open, he felt a knot in his stomach tighten.

Time came to a standstill. In those fleeting moments, the doors seemed stuck in place, unwilling to budge for any man. Finally, they broke free of what had held them.

Before they opened completely, Daniel squeezed through the narrow gap and began to fight against the river of pale businessmen. An area opened up in the middle of the station, near an old dried-up fountain, as the commuters flooded into the train.

The fountain was in clear view of the cameras but covered by light. Shades of green fell through the tinted glass above. It was oddly decorative for the rest of the city, with ornate carvings surrounding its base and a beautiful woman at its center, her hair flowing behind her in the wind. Now the fountain was dry, deemed unnecessary and wasteful. The fountain had not faired well with the passage of time. Its once gleaming image had shifted to a dirty black, like a lump of coal that spreads its filth to anyone who so much as brushed up against it.

Daniel wrestled himself free from the Prefects, while they filed into the train, on their way to their respective jobs. The doors slid shut behind him. Something was wrong. The station was too clear.

Daniel turned back to the train and watched in dismay as it disappeared into the darkness. On cue, the lights above the platform shut off.

The knot in his stomach vaulted back. In an instant, it tightened into an unbearable grip, making him want to throw up. His joints seized and a cry escaped his lips. The pain was gone as quickly as it had come, but a dull ache replaced it moments later.

He had stepped right into their trap.

A single open door offered salvation. The figure of a man stood there, waiting. Daniel sprinted toward the door, his only hope rested on the fleeting notion that the man would help him.

The Wretched slowly appeared on the platform. Their breaths heaved as they waited for the other lights to shut off. The clicking of their claws echoed off the stone walls, mixing with their wet breaths, twisting into an eerie harmony. They anticipated the brief chase . . . anticipated the takedown.

Daniel had never heard something breathe with so much fluid in its lungs. The exhalations came out in gurgles, as if the Wretched were drowning in their own fluids. Yet they thrived. He froze as the fear washed over him. They had been following him the entire time.

For a moment, Daniel thought he should’ve given up. Things would’ve been so much easier. Too late now - all there was left to do was run.

Click.

Another light went off.

Darkness nipped at his heels, toying with him, as it brought the Wretched that much closer.

Click.

Darkness.

Thrown forward, Daniel slammed into the pavement as a thud filled the humid air. The claws of an overzealous Wretch tore into his skin. The breathing of the approaching Wretched had intensified to the point of near hyperventilation.

Pain shot through Daniel’s chest as the air ejected from his lungs. His face ached, blood flowed into his mouth. He spat without much force, the mixture of blood and saliva landing right in front of him. Then regretted it a moment later. Without hesitation, his face slammed into the ground once more.

“Oh god . . .” Daniel managed to moan as the Wretched swarmed around him. Looking toward the last source of light, Daniel saw the single beam falter as the door slid shut.

They’re always watching, Daniel thought as the hunters smothered him with their hot and sinewy bodies.

Screams filled the air in the next moment.

“Twenty-three minutes,” a man noted, his voice lost amongst the screams. A metallic snap followed right after. “Impressive run, Evans. Too bad it ended a bit too quickly. I was starting to have fun.”