Free Black Feathers by Robert J. Wiersema Page B

bitches.”
    The boys were laughing as they drifted toward the food line.
    “So, are you hungry?” Skylark asked, turning to Cassie as if nothing had happened.
    “Skylark—”
    “Because I don’t want to get in line with those guys, and if we wait—”
    Without thinking, Cassie threw her arms around Skylark, squeezing her tightly. “Oh, God.”
    “What?” Skylark asked, puzzled.
    “Those guys—” Cassie started, but Skylark cut her off.
    “Those guys? Those guys are bad news. You can tell just looking at them.”
    Cassie exhaled heavily.
    “The thing with guys like that? They’re just bullies. And bullies are usually weak and they use all this bluster and violence to pump themselves up so nobody notices that. Pick on someone else so you don’t get picked on, right?”
    “I guess.”
    “So you have to outbluster them. Make them know that you’re more confident than they think you are. Stronger. That way they won’t pick on you. A predator won’t attack something stronger, right?”
    She thought of what Mrs. Hepnar had said and how she had tried to stand up to the boys at the McDonald’s. “Yeah.”
    “It’s nature. That’s how it usually works. Predators prey on the weak. It’s all instinct.”
    Watching the three boys push each other in the line, Cassie wasn’t sure she found that comforting at all.

    The Darkness watched the girls from the far side of the line that had formed behind the van, another face in a white blur of faces, of grey breath, of scarves and hats.
    They were almost close enough to touch.
    He had done it on purpose, positioned himself deliberately. Just close enough, just far away enough, teetering on the cusp of possibility. He hungered, and he savoured the hunger, the desire. Wanting to reach out, to sweep them in, to take them—he could feel his heart race at the thought, at the tension in his muscles. It would be so easy.
    It was always so easy.
    But there was so much pleasure in the yearning. Holding off, letting the hunger build … That first bite would be ever so sweet.
    The Darkness stopped, looked into the crowd. He could feel a pull, a gentle tug, the inviting breath of a door being opened, a door into another world of warmth, another hunger.
    Closing his eyes, the Darkness jumped.
    When his eyes opened again, he was in a different place,inside a different vessel, deeper in the crowd, closer to the van, but farther from the girls.
    His first reaction was to scan the crowd, to look for the old host. There, closer to the square, eyes taking in the crowd, but returning, always returning, to the girls. The Darkness could see the hunger, the longing.
    The Darkness breathed and grew in the new vessel, expanding to fill the space. He flexed his finger, tapped his toes, turned his head, gradually spun the body in an almost complete circle.
    The Darkness smiled.
    This was a splendid new development. Not a surprise: doors were always opening for the Darkness, it was human nature. But this, this felt familiar. He had felt these hands, tasted this anger.
    Oh, yes, the Darkness had been here before.
    And he would return.
    But right now …
    With one last lingering look at the girls, the Darkness jumped again.

    He was surprised when he felt the stirring in the pit of his stomach. Usually it took longer. Usually a night like last night was enough to keep the feelings at bay for a good long time. Weeks, sometimes months even.
    But maybe it was like a good meal. You stuff yourself at Christmas dinner to the point where you feel like you might explode, and you swear you’ll never eat again, only to wake up on Boxing Day morning hungrier than you’ve ever been in your entire life.
    Yes, it was just like that.
    Because last night had been a hell of a feast, satisfying him in ways that he had never even imagined.
    And yet, here he was.
    It was the television’s fault.
    The kids had it on while they were playing, some screeching show that set his teeth on edge. And they weren’t even