DUSKLIGHT ODYSSEY

Chapter 9

Naim had only the faintest of ideas as to what had just happened.

Ion removed his cold hands from off her eyes.

Naim pushed herself from him and took a peek out the door. The man was no longer there. One moment he begged, the next he had vanished. All that remained was a dirty pair of shoes.

"Put them on," Ion gruffly mumbled. He was busying himself brooding in a corner.

"I don't understand," Naim said, "where'd he go?"

"Apparently," he said, "you wouldn't understand."

Naim frowned. "That's not an answer, and you know it." She opened the door.

Ion made sure to stay away from the light that streamed in, huddling himself further into the room's darkest corner.

Naim stepped out. She looked left, and then right. Something about the way the sun's stark ivory light set the world aflame filled her with a foreign sense of dread. It hurt her eyes to look even at the ground. Naturally, she was becoming more accustomed to the dark night by night. But why must that make me adverse to the light?

She stooped down and grabbed the vanished man's shoes before retreating inside again. She sat on the ground and examined these strange objects of apparel. She'd never worn shoes before. She'd never needed them. Of course, they were far too big for her small feet; but tied as tightly as they could be, they would at least refrain from slipping off. She stood and practiced pacing about in them. It was an odd sensation, to be removed somewhat from the earth. A sense so familiar to her—the ground beneath her feet—was now muted and dulled. Her stance and her gait would painstakingly have to be altered to accommodate her new way of walking through life. "I don't like them," she said.

Ion nodded. "You'll get used to it."

Naim sat again to ogle the dusty leather brogues, which were in surprisingly good condition for their age and use. "Tell me what happened to the man."

"I told you. You wouldn't get it. You can't even see them."

"See what?" she looked at Ion, determined to get an answer. "I'm listening. And I'll believe you. I promise."

Ion sighed deeply. "The shadow people. Shades. Ghosts. Whatever you want to call them. They only exist in the sunlight—from dawn till dusk. There are thousands of them. Millions. You couldn't count them if you tried. Every corner of everywhere. And they just stand there, waiting for someone to make the mistake of stepping into the light." Ion's eyes shifted to a far-off glaze. "And then they grab you. Grab you, and take you. Just a touch is all it takes. And you freeze. And they take you. And you're gone."

"...Where do they take you?"

Ion shrugged. "Maybe you become one of them. Maybe that's why there's so many." Ion slumped to the ground and wrapped his arms around his knees. "Only the darkness is safe." His gaze locked firmly onto Naim. "But you," he said, "you can't even see them. And they can't see you. Why?"

Naim was silent for a moment. "I don't know. The way you're talking about them—it's like we're living in two different worlds."

Ion rested his head against the wall and stared at the ceiling. "Must be nice," he said. "I don't care much for this one." The bags beneath his eyes were more pronounced than ever. He looked so gaunt in the faint light. Naim felt exhaustion ooze through every word he breathed.

Naim looked again at her shoes—shoes coerced from a man moments before his death, or undeath. "I'm wearing the shoes of a dead man." She felt wrongness bubble up from her conscience. She felt dirty, and began to panic as she fumbled in the dark to untie them.