Free Night Terrors by Mark Lukens

Shadow Man would be coming for her soon. She could feel it.
    Tara picked up the paper and turned it over.
    On the paper was a quick sketch of a gun; it was a revolver with its cylinder open and six bullets spilled out of it. The drawing was quick and rough, like the sketches she had made of Jen. She could see where she’d pressed down so hard on a part of the drawing that she must’ve broken the pencil there. She saw a dark spot on the paper that could be a drop of her own blood.
    A gun and bullets. What did that mean? Was that what was used to kill Greg?
    No, Greg wasn’t killed by a gun. His death had been much worse than that.
    Tara stared at the drawing and she believed that this was a clue to the next murder. The Shadow Man was giving her clues now, daring her to piece them together, daring her to find him before he found her.
    But she didn’t want to find the Shadow Man. She just wanted to stay away from him.
    At the edges of the paper she noticed two numbers: a two and a nine. At the top of the page was one word: Pine. And scrawled at the bottom of the drawing was another word: Trinity.
    What did these words and numbers mean? Were they associated with the gun and bullets somehow? What would Pine or Trinity have to do with a gun? Or the numbers, two and nine.
    She laid the paper down on the coffee table, face-down again, and a shudder rippled through her muscles.
    She had always been afraid of giving in to her visions, giving in to her telepathic power completely. She’d always been afraid of where it would lead to. But if she was going to stay alive, and if she had any chance of keeping anybody else alive, then she needed to try and open herself up to her ability. She needed to see what this killer was doing. Normally, after a sleepwalking episode, she would sleep in her bed with the rope tied around her ankle, but she felt like she needed to let herself sleepwalk now; she needed to let herself draw sketches in her sleep if that’s what it took. She needed to see where all of this was going to lead to.
    She needed to see through the Shadow Man’s eyes. She needed to see the horrible things he wanted to show her.
    Because her life depended on it – she was sure of that now.

CHAPTER SIX
1.
    It was nearly noon when Detective Perry and Detective Jackson drove onto Greg’s property through the open gate in the chain link fence. Two sheriff’s cars and a paramedic’s vehicle were already parked on the lawn in front of a doublewide trailer that looked like it was barely held together by rust and spit. Near the trailer was a large, free-standing metal garage that reminded Perry of a Quonset hut from his days in the Marines. The cars, trailer, and garage were all nestled underneath massive oak trees with heavy branches that didn’t look like they’d be able to make it through the next round of summer storms.
    Perry had gotten the call about an hour earlier. He was still working on the Jennifer McGrath case and this one had some similar characteristics to that murder. The call about this murder had come into the station as another anonymous tip from another throwaway cell phone.
    The killer wanted them to see this.
    Detective Jackson had ridden with Perry and then wished he hadn’t – Perry drove way too fast. Even if they were just going to lunch, Perry had to speed. For someone who moved and spoke so slow and methodically, his driving was a direct contrast. But the drive here had been worse than ever, and Jackson had gripped the armrest so hard he’d nearly left a permanent impression in it.
    They both got out of the car after Perry parked beside a sheriff’s car and then they walked towards the trailer which had its front door wide open. As they got closer they saw a sheriff fill the doorway, waiting patiently for them to approach.
    “I’m Sheriff Tully,” the older man said and extended a hand after Perry and Jackson climbed the three steps into Greg’s trailer.
    Perry gave the sheriff’s hand a brief