Among the Shadows

Among the Shadows is the first episode of The Twilight Zone: The Next Era.

Opening
in The Twilight Zone.

Story
Ned Blackworth was looking forward to his trip to Bermuda. It had been a long winter in Peru, a small town in upstate New York that he always had to identify to others by referencing the nearby and better known Plattsburgh.

Postcard images of the brilliant sunshine, lapping sea water and warm breezes awaiting him flipped like slides through his mind. He still had three and 1/2 hours of lab work left at GenoSpect, the biological research firm where he worked and the only major source of employment in the county.

Having just eaten lunch in the eery, energy-sucking florescent lighting of the company cafeteria, he was eager to step outside for a teaser of the warmth awaiting him on his spring getaway.

He shrugged off his lab coat, closed his lap top and stepped out to the soundless hall and made his way happily to the side exit. There, he knew, a path led to a small industrial park with recently planted young trees, a hopeful tribute to the long-awaited springtime. He only paused when a faint but firm click -- the familiar sound of the GenoSpects' security mechanism on all lab doors and closed -- seemed to echo in the empty hallway. He nodded to the security guard posted at his station in the corner, only to receive a questioning look in return.

Though somewhat muted by the remains of winter-cast skies, the sunlight still felt like an instant infusion of life energy. Eyes closed, Ned lifted his face toward the sun to take in the nourishing flood of warmth.

As he pushes through the side entrance glass door, the anticipated rays flood his senses and he breathes in deeply. Making his way toward the koi pond where cement benches will allow more basking, he muses, "Only three more hours now." Then he can lock up the lab at 5:30 and not think of it for two weeks. Ned peers up at the sky and notes the gradual progress made by the sun as it inches toward the western horizon. Nearing the pond, he's delighted to see the play of light and movement; flashes of sunlight and shadow as the fish dart between the two, with the entire scene cast in shadow on the pool bottom.

He leans over the pool but the sun's glare limits his view. He moves toward the linden tree close to the pool edge, which looms over the pool and provides a swath of clear viewing space. Leaning in, he watches the playful antics of the playful antics of the koi now made viewable by the shade. Something is amiss, however. He holds on to the tree branch to steady himself as he bends further over the water. The linden tree, its arching branch bending and yielding to his body weight, casts its shadow on the water's surface. Ned stops short: it looks like the tree is bending on its own, like an animal leaning in to drink pond water. But how could it? Where is he...his shadow? I'm next to it, moving it, my back to the sun and in the same position to it, thinks Ned.

He spins around, the tree branch snapping upright as he peers toward the sun then back to the immediate surroundings. There, he thinks. The angled shadows of the stone benches, like that of the tree, lengthened as they crept toward the pond. Of course, he thinks. I'm turned the wrong way! He whips back around to face the pond, and stares fiercely down to his feet. Nothing. Like a madman taunted by his own ghosts, he frantically jerks his head in every direction, searching for that dark dusting of shape, a gray blinking eclipse -- any shuddering evidence of his being.

He races back to the lab -- room 302. Inside, he had been growing some common bacteria, and had been experimenting with antibiotics to see what would happen. He approaches the steel table where his current work lies waiting and stares up at the buzzing lab overhead lights. He thrusts out his arm over the petri dish -- labeled for immediate scrutiny by the technicians. No shadow -- no sign of his arm obstructing the glowing light path focused on the petri dish. Glancing around, he grabs a nearby stick -- a jijitsu pole left behind by an intern -- and waves it under the searing cone of light. The skinny shadow darts back and forth but appears to be floating of its own accord.

Clutching his head with one hand and using the other to steady himself on the stainless steel worktable, he gulps for air and wildly surveys the room. The petri dishes! Aglow, the contents pulsating with a sickly orange light, their presence pulls him in. Specimen #38671 looks lower in volume. Two other dishes look depleted as well. Ned sees a beaker nearby, fogged by a chalky residue not yet fully evaporated.

"Someone has been tampering with my specimens!," Ned mutters to himself. It had to have been while he had lunch. But who had access to the lab? His mind raced through the minutes of the last hour, remembering a forgettable lunch. Sebastian Cleague! Hadn't he inserted his smarmy self into Ned's solitary lunch space? And shared his lemonade,