Chapter 9 shields appear out of no were

Chapter 9: Collision of Shadows

Zack arrived at the precinct early, dark circles beneath his eyes telling the story of another sleepless night. He walked past the kennel where Max remained calm, and the other dogs whimpered in corners, trembling as if the very air carried menace.

The morning briefing began as usual, but an uneasy hush hung over the room. Sergeant Linwood stood at the front, his face drawn with tension.

"Another strange incident last night," he began. "Highway 22—there was a seven-car pileup around 3 a.m. No witnesses. Just a series of crashes, one after the other. Every driver involved vanished."

The room erupted into murmurs. Zack leaned forward, his senses on high alert. "Any surveillance footage?"

Linwood nodded grimly. "We reviewed it. The footage is… odd. It shows cars suddenly stopping as if they hit a wall, but there's nothing there."

"Like a shield," Zack whispered.

"What?"

Zack shook his head. "Just thinking out loud. Can I take a look at the footage?"

Linwood hesitated before gesturing toward the side room. "Be my guest. But good luck making sense of it."

---

In the dimly lit tech room, Zack and Ethan sat in front of a monitor, replaying the footage. Cars sped down the highway under the cover of night, headlights cutting through darkness. Suddenly, a sedan in the right lane jerked as if colliding with an unseen barrier.

The car flipped, skidding into the next lane, causing another vehicle to swerve. Within seconds, a chaotic chain reaction unfolded—metal crunched, tires screeched, glass shattered.

"Pause it," Zack said, narrowing his eyes.

Ethan froze the frame. The screen captured a distortion in the air, a ripple barely perceptible but undeniable.

"There," Zack pointed. "It's the same as the warehouse. A shield or some kind of energy field."

Ethan frowned. "It's like the thing is everywhere at once. But how's it creating these barriers?"

"I don't know," Zack said. "But every time someone hits it, they vanish."

"Disappearing right out of their cars," Ethan muttered, rubbing his temple. "No trace left behind—except their clothes."

"Exactly," Zack whispered.

---

As night fell, Zack found himself patrolling Highway 22. The darkness swallowed the road, broken only by the dull glow of streetlights spaced far apart. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, the weight of anticipation heavy in his chest.

Duke sat upright in the backseat, his ears twitching with every creak and groan of the old highway.

Zack's radio crackled to life. "Unit 7, report any activity along Highway 22," a voice instructed.

"Copy that," Zack responded, his eyes scanning the road ahead.

Suddenly, the air shifted. The subtle hum he had begun to recognize filled his ears—a vibration that resonated deep in his bones.

"Here we go," he muttered.

In the distance, headlights appeared—another car approaching. Zack watched as the vehicle drew nearer, its driver unaware of the danger lurking in the darkness.

Without warning, the car jerked violently, as if striking an invisible wall. Metal crumpled, the vehicle spun out of control, and the driver's scream was cut short.

Zack slammed on his brakes, his heart hammering. He grabbed his flashlight and weapon, leaping from the car.

The wrecked vehicle lay in a twisted heap, steam hissing from its engine. The driver's seat was empty.

"No," Zack whispered, his eyes wide.

He swung the flashlight beam across the scene. Clothes lay crumpled on the seat—jeans, a leather jacket, sneakers.

No blood. No body.

"Not again," he muttered.

A shimmer danced in the corner of his vision. He whirled around, gun raised. The ripple in the air shifted, then vanished.

Duke growled low in his throat, his gaze fixed on the empty road.

"Stay with me, boy," Zack whispered.

The hum grew louder. Zack felt the pressure building, as if the very atmosphere was pressing against him. He aimed his gun at the distortion, firing three quick shots.

The bullets sparked in midair, ricocheting off the unseen barrier.

"Shielded," Zack growled.

The creature let out a deafening screech, a sound that seemed to split the night itself. Zack covered his ears, staggering back.

Duke barked furiously, his voice a sharp contrast to the unearthly noise.

Then, as suddenly as it began, the noise stopped.

The air fell still.

Zack lowered his hands, breathing hard.

"Come out," he whispered into the darkness.

Silence answered him.

---

At the station, Zack and Ethan pored over maps and reports. Every incident—every noise complaint, every disappearance—was marked in red. The pattern grew clearer with each connection.

"It's spreading," Zack said. "The attacks are becoming more frequent, more aggressive."

"It's like it's feeding on fear," Ethan mused. "The more panic it causes, the stronger it gets."

"Then we need to find a way to starve it," Zack said grimly.

Ethan sighed. "That's easier said than done. People are terrified, and for good reason."

Zack nodded, his jaw clenched. "We need to warn people. Tell them not to drive at night, to stay indoors, and to stay calm."

"And we need to find out why it's shielded," Ethan added. "There has to be a way to break through."

Zack's mind raced. The creature wasn't just a mindless predator. It was intelligent—strategic.

He thought of the pileup, the ripple in the air, the deafening screech.

"It uses sound," he whispered. "And it reacts to fear. Maybe… maybe fear triggers its shield."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "You think staying calm could make it vulnerable?"

"It's worth testing," Zack said.

"But who's going to volunteer for that?" Ethan asked with a wry smile.

Zack didn't answer. His thoughts drifted to the upcoming cruise. Two months from now, Ethan's wedding reception would be held on a massive boat surrounded by endless water—and endless night.