Jade directs the beam of the flashlight at his face, and even though it doesn’t illuminate much, I am startled by the chalky, grey-white colour of his skin and the cavernous, dark circles that frame his eyes.

Ready to strike, I hold it across my body like a shield.Ī wiry male figure stands less than five feet away. It slices through the air, making a sharp whistling sound as it moves. In one fluid motion, I pull my pole out of my knapsack. “One, two …” she whispers.Īt the count of three we swing around to confront our stalker. This seems as good a time as any to use my pole. We’re only supposed to use our poles in the most serious of circumstances, when we believe our lives are under immediate threat. The bamboo is light but strong, which makes it easy to carry. Though any sort of strong, pole-like structure will do, I made this pole in class at Beaconsfield. I run my fingers over the smooth surface of my bamboo pole. Instinctively, my hand moves to the oversized knapsack on my back. The night air is only slightly cooler than it was during the day, and the humidity, along with the adrenaline surging through me, makes my face slick with sweat. Jade and I begin walking again, this time more quickly. Or at least that’s what the media and police would like us to believe.īut as Seers we know better.

It’s a modern-day Jack the Ripper sort of thing. And those that have been found are not found alive … or in one piece. Thing is, not many people fall under the found category. Local news websites post daily updates and photos of the missing … and those found. And though I try not to, I can’t help thinking about the recent rash of abductions and murders in our city. We’re naturally synchronized like this it’s a twin thing. “Stop,” Jade whispers, and we stop walking at the exact same moment. Rolling electricity cuts are to blame for the lack of lighting only a small number of street lamps are now turned on at night, and those are found almost exclusively on the city’s main streets or in the wealthiest neighbourhoods.

Right now, other than the pathetically anorexic beam cast by our flashlight, we’re walking in complete darkness and the street is empty. There are still four full city blocks to go before we’ll reach a lit street lamp, before we can turn off the tiny flashlight we’re carrying.

My gut feeling is that Jade and I are not just being followed. And at this moment, every cell in my body is screaming that this is a code-red situation. During the last few months of training with our Protectors, we’ve been taught to recognize when a situation may be dangerous. Whoever - or whatever - is following us clearly doesn’t feel the need to keep their presence secret. The footsteps behind us speed up as well, keeping pace. Jade and I don’t say a word instead, we start walking faster.

Solomon's Ring by Mary Jennifer Payne