Kingdom of Shadows Read Online Free

crowd and cut him off, blocking his path.
    The afro gave him away.  Snow, looking like he always had, dressed in jeans, sneakers and an old army jacket thrown over a sweatshirt, extended a hand, holding it up between himself and the priest as their eyes met.  Neither moved; two statues in a sea of humanity.
    Rooster stepped out of the alley, approached them.
    The priest looked over Snow’s shoulder, enraged.  “I know  you!”
    “Keep moving, padre,” Snow said evenly.  “I ain’t playing with you.   Move .”
    Defeated, the priest slipped away, looking back every few seconds until he’d been completely absorbed by the crowd, carried off down the street with the rest.
    Rooster started after him but Snow grabbed his arm, firmly enough to stop him but with enough restraint to let him know the move wasn’t a challenge.
    “Let him go, man.”
    “He’s right, I—we know each other, I—”
    “Just let him go.”  When Rooster relaxed Snow released him.  “You don’t look no different.”
    They shook hands.  Snow’s palm was cold, rough and covered in calluses.  “Neither do you,” Rooster sighed.  “But we are different, aren’t we?”
    Nearby, overhead trains rumbled along rusted tracks.  The noise seemed to distract Snow for a moment.  “Let’s get off the street.”  He motioned to the bar behind them.  “Catch some heat.”
     
    *  *  *  *
     
    The bar was dark, with scarred linoleum floors, low ceilings and only two small windows on the front wall.  A scattering of tables and chairs filled the area, while a row of dark booths lined one wall and a bar filled the back.  A jukebox kitty-cornered nearby sat quietly.  The bartender, an overweight guy with a shock of unruly salt-and-pepper hair, chatted quietly with what was probably a regular, both staring at a small television suspended in the corner showing an old black-and-white horror movie.  Otherwise the place was empty.
    Rooster and Snow ordered a couple beers then took them over to the booth farthest from the bar and sat down.  
    “It’s good to see you, man.”  Snow slowly caressed his beer bottle, focusing on it rather than Rooster.  “Just sucks it has to be like this.”
    After a long swallow of beer Rooster slid a black plastic ashtray from the corner of the table into the center and lit a cigarette.  “What’s going on, Snow?”
    He was about to answer when a bloodcurdling scream exploded through the bar.
    Rooster reached to his belt for a gun that wasn’t there, a gun that hadn’t been there in years.  Snow cocked his head in the direction of the television, where a ghoul was staggering through a cemetery shrouded in mist, closing in on a buxom young maiden with the ability to scream at octaves capable of shattering glass.
    “Jesus H.”  He rubbed his temples.  “Could’ve lived without that.”
    “Never seen you so jumpy, Rooster-man.  You were always cold as ice.”
    “The priest, who was he?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “He knew me.  And I knew him.  I just can’t remember how.”
    “You’ll figure it out.”
    “Can’t figure out much of anything lately.  The strangest shit’s happening.  I can’t make sense of any of it.”  He took a deep drag on his cigarette, blew out a cloud of smoke and watched it climb toward the ceiling.  “Look, I—”
    “Feels like you went to sleep and woke up in the middle of your life,” Snow interrupted, voice unusually quiet, “and now you can’t remember how the hell you got here.”
    Rooster stabbed the cigarette between his lips and left it there so he could put his hands flat on the table between them and better conceal the fact that they were shaking.  He nodded.  “What’s happening to us?”
    Up close Snow’s eyes were bloodshot and heavy, like he’d been crying recently, hadn’t slept in a while, or both.  He smelled vaguely of cheap aftershave.  “What do you know about demons?”
    “ Demons ?  You mean like—”
    “Like all