The Fleck
was beginning to wear off. Eckers leaned back against the alley wall, dreading
the headache to come. Wherever B’ya got this stuff, it was great. He could
still taste the metallic, sweet smoke in his mouth. He lit a cigarette and
thought of Trinny. ‘She never could handle her Fleck.’ He thought.
He thought
about the last time they made love. He could still smell the Fleck in her hair
and taste the Anticipation on her lips when they kissed. She liked the stuff,
and liked to mix too much.
It had been
almost a week since he bolted from the apartment, leaving her there. He was
sure the cops would be looking for him. It wasn’t his fault. The dumb bitch
took too much. Worse yet, she took too much of his stuff and left him high and
dry. Dumb bitch.
A can fell to
the ground in the shadows at the far end of the alley.
Eckers stood
up. “B’ya? Is that you?” He whispered loudly. “Man, that ain’t funny. Is that
you?” No reply came. Eckers dropped his cigarette and smashed it under foot.
There was another sound of falling garbage. Eckers took a few steps toward the
noise. “I swear, B’ya, if you’re trying to freak me out, I’m going to kick your
ass.” It was then Eckers saw two dim lights in the dark. They were low to the
ground and bobbed gently. Then they appeared to blink. “What the hell?”
Eckers turned
to run out of the alley. B’ya or not, this was too freaky, and it was
completely killing whatever buzz he still had left. He heard a growl behind him
and turned to see the lights fly at him.
Four sets of
claws ripped through his clothes to the soft skin beneath. He clawed back for
dear life. He didn’t have time to scream before the beast’s teeth sank into his
throat and crushed his voice box. Then the beast reared back and tore Ecker’s
throat out.
A few moments
later, when the beast was gone, Ecker’s Fleck-tainted blood crept across the
alley floor into the dark shadows of the Big City night.
Big City
“Autumn”
by Eric Schwartz
Stack Fury
poured coffee into his travel mug. He put the pot back onto the burner and
turned off the machine. On his way to the door he grabbed his keys and his
badge. He clipped his badge onto his belt, put on his jacket and left the
apartment. The crisp Big City morning was a welcome sight. From the top of the
hill he could see the sun shining on the ocean, while most of the city still
lay in the shadow of the mountains behind him. A glorious day.
Stack had been
very lucky to find an apartment here, for what he made. The brownstone
apartments that lined the hilly street, known as Banter’s Row, were usually
expensive and always in demand. He figured that Teadum, his landlord, liked the
idea of having a cop in the building and cut the price. Teadum seemed to fancy
cops. Even after nearly three years he never addressed Stack as anything but
“Sergeant.”
“Good Morning,
Sergeant.” Teadum said, coming up the concrete steps to the front door. He
carried a bucket of paint and a tool box.
Stack smiled.
“Good morning, Teadum. You’re up early. Fixin’ to do some fixin’?” Stack
chuckled.
Teadum never
seemed to get jokes. That is to say, he never gave the correct response. They
just seemed to move past him. He caught them, just never laughed. He made a
sound like he was hacking up a popcorn hull. “Damn dogs.” He grumbled. Stack
looked at him quizzically. Teadum nodded toward the front door and Stack turned
around. The old door was wood with an etched glass center. Deep gouges were dug
into the wood, all around the door handle and lock and along the bottom. “This
is why I don’t allow freakin’ dogs.” Teadum blurted, dropping the paint and
toolbox. “They’re murder on wood.”
Stack crouched
down next to the door. The gouges were nearly as wide as his finger. “That’s
some dog.” He scanned the door again and realized that the glass had also been
scratched. Small strips of glass lined the scratches. The claws had dug fairly
deep into the glass. “Sharp.” Stack mumbled.
“Hmm?” Teadum
asked.
“Oh, I was just
remarking at how sharp this dog’s claws must have been to cut into the glass
like that.”
Teadum leaned
in. “Aw! Dammit! I didn’t even see that. The whole thing will have to be
replaced. Dammit. Hey, you’re a cop,” Teadum always began legal questions with
that phrase. “If this thing comes back tonight, and I see it, can I shoot it?”
Stack stood up
and sipped his coffee and raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a gun?”
There was a
pause. Teadum finally nodded. “I got a license and everything. Ammo and gun on
are on opposite ends of the apartment. I got one of them trigger lock things
too. For when my ex brings the kids by. It’s all good.”
Stack smiled.
He loved giving Teadum a hard time. “That’s fine. I’m sure you’re fine.”
“I even know
how to shoot.”
Stack pulled
his keys from his pocket, which was meant to indicate that he had to leave. “I
think you’d be better off calling Animal Control.” Stack chuckled and headed to
his car.
“You’re
probably right.” Teadum said after him. Stack continued to his car. “Will they
give me a report? Something I can give to my insurance? You know, so that I can
get this door replaced?” Even though he had yelled the last part, Sergeant
Forray got into his vehicle and pulled away. Teadum shrugged and figured Stack
hadn’t heard him. ‘Cops got a lot their mind.’ He thought.
*
Needless Action
splashed cold water on his face. He had no idea how he’d make it through that
day. He stood up and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked horrible. He
hadn’t slept in several days. He didn’t remember drinking anything the night
before, but his headache spoke volumes. He pulled two paper towels out of the
dispenser and dried his hands. He wanted to shout at Phillips and Squonk, as he
was known, who were yukking it up at their lockers. His head throbbed every
time they guffawed. Instead he glared at them.
Finally Squonk
caught sight of him. “Damn! Needless, you look like crap. Rough night?”
“You finally
making time with that nurse?” Phillips laughed.
Needless scowled and moved toward the door as the two
continued to laugh. He mumbled between clenched teeth. “Medical Examiner. She’s
a Medical Examiner.”
When he finally
reached his desk, Stack had settled in and was chomping on a breakfast
sandwich. The smell of the sandwich almost made Needless wretch. Stack took the
last bite of his breakfast and wiped his hands.
“Morning,
sunshine.” Stack said, reaching for his coffee. Needless gurgled a disgruntled
greeting. Stack smiled to himself. “You never turned up at Tucker’s last
night.”
“Could’ve
fooled me.”
“It’s too bad.
Charlie and Laura showed up and we were doing Swampland Shooters. Quite a
night.”
Needless put
his face in his hands. A Swampland Shooter was one part Moonglow, one part
Goblin brandy and two parts Mistweed distillate, in a double tall shot glass
with a dark beer chaser. Needless hated them in the first place. This morning
he wanted to shoot Stack in the face for talking about them.
Stack decided
to have mercy and changed the subject. “So, what happened?”
“I wish I knew.
I did, however, wake up on the living room floor, completely naked, if that’s
any indication of the kind of night I had.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, so, I
might not be the cheerful guy I normally am. Just warning you.”
Stack just
chuckled and turned on his computer. He scanned his email.
“Why
doesn’t Smiles ever check his email?”
Stack blurted.
“Because the
guy lives in the past. Plus he’s not tied to that thing like you are. For once
I agree with him. I hate email.” Needless finally sat up full. “Have you ever
thought about getting some professional help for your addiction?”
Stack ignored
the comment and continued reading the screen.
A few moments
later Breen poked his head out of his office and bellowed across the squad
room, making Needless’ teeth hurt. “Stack! Needless! We just got a lead on that
OD case you guys are working on.” They looked up at him. “Your suspect, the
boyfriend, just turned up in the city morgue.”
Needless threw
his hands up in defeat. “Let’s roll, I guess.”
*
The morgue was
as cheerful as always. It did, however, hold new luster for Needless since he
and Sioux had started dating. She was in the middle of an autopsy, so Stack and
Needless were taken to the body by an assistant ME. Ecker’s body was laid out on the examining table under a green
sheet. The assistant pulled back the sheet.
Needless almost passed out.
“As you can
see, he was mauled to death. Looks like an animal. The estimated time of death
is 2:15 AM. Some strong amounts of
Fleck were found in his system.” The assistant said.
Stack leaned in
to the body. “Anything under the fingernails?”
“Yeah, some
tissue and hair. Between that and the adrenaline in his system, I think this
guy was fighting for his life.”
Needless
regained composure. “You think?” He blurted sarcastically. He leaned in to
Stack. “Stack, I’m gonna start heaving on the recently departed if we don’t go
soon.”
Stack put up
his hand to quiet his partner. He then brought his hand down until it hovered
just over the gouges in the stomach. He stood up and nodded to the assistant,
who recovered the body. He turned to Needless and spoke in a hushed tone.
“I had gouges
like this in the front door to my apartment this morning. Roughly the same
size.”
Needless folded
his arms. “We might be dealing with a pack.”
Stack rested
his hands on his hips and took a deep breath. He turned back to the assistant
ME. “Let me know when you get tests back on the tissue samples. You gonna do
DNA?” The assistant nodded. “Let me know those too. You better send them to
Sgt. Vleash in the Lycanthropy Division too.”
The assistant
stood stunned for a moment. “Werewolves?” He stammered meekly. The two
detectives turned to leave. As they walked out of the room into the hallway,
the assistant heard the elf mumble, “I freaking hate werewolves.”
*
“Lycanthropy.
Vleash.” He stated as he answered the phone. Sgt. Vleash sat back in his chair
and grabbed the squeezy toy that rested atop his computer monitor. Vleash
rolled his eyes as his preteen son’s voice blasted out of the phone.
“Dad! Tell Tara
to give me the remote.”
Vleash sighed.
“How the hell old are you two?”
“She won’t give
me the remote. She’s watching that show you don’t want her watching!”
“I am not.”
Vleash heard his daughter shriek in the background.
“Dad, she just
switched it.”
Stack and
Needless flopped down in the chairs across the desk from Vleash. Vleash again
rolled his eyes and indicated to the two that it would only be a moment. Stack
nodded. Things had definitely changed since the last time Stack had been here.
The office was now in the basement, and nobody else seemed to be at their
desks.
“All right.”
Vleash finally said after a few moments of bickering from the phone. “Look. I’m
going to unhook the damn thing and bring it to work with me if you two can’t
stop arguing. The two of you need to work it out.”
“But dad…”
“Work it out,
Bobby.” He snapped, hanging up the phone. “So what brings you two down here to
the crotch of the police department?” He inquired, sitting up.
Stack looked
around. “Just admiring your new pad. Everybody else call in sick?”
Vleash opened
his arms to present himself. “You’re looking at the BCPD Lycanthropy Division.”
Stack’s mouth
dropped open. “You’re kidding me.”
“Do you know
how many werewolf attacks we’ve had in the last 3 years? 5. That’s counting the
one that turned out to be a lap dog that some boyfriend wanted dead. If I need
help I contact special weapons and I work with a special investigator over at
Animal Control. One of those freakin’ ‘interdepartmental synergies’ the city
has been bragging about.”
“Well, add one
more to your list.” Needless quipped.
“No kidding?”
Vleash sat up. “What have you got?”
“Male. 19. He
was this guy who’s girlfriend overdosed and he bolted. We were looking to pick
him up, but they found him ripped to shreds in an alley last night.” Needless
said.
“Weird thing
is, Toby, I had nearly matching claw marks on the door to my apartment building
this morning.” Stack said, leaning in. “I’m thinking a pack may have rolled in
off the flats.”
“How far apart
were the two incidents?”
“About 7 miles.
It’s not inconceivable that the two could be the same werewolf, but I think
it’s unlikely.”
Vleash shook
his head in a way that didn’t give Needless much confidence. “Well, I’ll check
out the body. And give me your address,
I’ll sniff around there too. I’d say they should beef up patrols tonight, and
the blues should keep their eyes open. I should have a chance to look at
everything and work up a composite by this afternoon. I don’t want anybody
blowing somebody’s dog away.”
*
By that night
every patrol car in Big City had a rough sketch of what the wolf will probably
look like, along with size specs. Once Vleash reported that the attack was, in
fact, a werewolf attack, Commissioner Bledsoe gave a press conference in the
main foyer of city hall.
“This was a
lycanthropic incident and we will do everything in our power to protect the
citizens of Big City. Detective Sergeants Toby Vleash, John D’yen and Adam
Forray are handling the case along with Ron Kreiger from Animal Control. “
Bledsoe pointed to Laura Medrano who stood near the center of the crowd. “Yes,
Laura.”
“Would a
werewolf normally attack some one known to them? And could this lead to a
suspect?”
“I will let
Sgt. Vleash field that question, Laura.”
Vleash stepped
to the microphone. “To answer your question, no. While some times the
lycanthrope will attack a person known to what we call “The Host”, it is not
standard. It is something we will investigate, but the odds are against the
victim being known to the host. Our main concern is finding and subduing the
creature or creatures. It is not our policy to destroy the animal on sight.
Lycanthropy is an illness. This is a hunt and rescue operation. ” Vleash pointed to another reporter. “Yes?”
“You said
‘creature or creatures’. Is there a chance that there is more than one
werewolf?” The reporter asked.
“We also have
some physical evidence of a wolf presence several miles from the attack that
may indicate more than one lycanthrope.” He nodded to another reporter.
Laura jotted
her notes down quickly and scanned the foyer. Her gaze rested on Stack and
Needless standing along the wall across the foyer. She broke away from the
crowd and moved toward them.
Needless
shifted on his feet as she approached. Stack half waved.
“Gentlemen.”
She said.
Needless
tensed. “No comment.”
Stack rolled
his eyes. “Hi Laura. How are you feeling today?”
Laura shrugged.
“This morning was a little rough. It’ll be a while before I do shooters again.”
She chuckled. “Charlie looked like he’d be slapped around with a shovel.” She
turned to Needless. “You never turned up.”
Needless
continued to watch the press conference. “No comment.”
Stack smiled.
“He’s in a mood. Just ignore him. Although, you do know we can’t discuss the
case right now.”
Laura smirked.
“What do you take me for? One of those sleezeporters from Channel 8?”
Stack smirked
and looked back at the press conference. “Mmhhm.”
“Well,” Laura
finally said after a pause, “this should have the everybody in town locked
indoors tonight.”
“We do need to
tell people.” Needless said emotionlessly. “It helps to keep them safe.”
Laura turned at looked at him. “How safe is it
when you have half the city roaming the streets, armed to the teeth, looking to
kill this thing?”
Needless
finally broke his gaze at the podium and looked at her. “I couldn’t care less.
This “humane” policy is ridiculous. I saw that guy today. Nothing remotely
human could do that and there is no proof that the treatments work. Kill it.”
Laura looked
back at the podium. “You’re all heart, Needless.”
Needless
chuckled. It was the first funny thing he’d heard all day.
*
“Do you have
any idea what they do to school yard pushers like you in prison?” Mistwood
Heights narcotics officer Helm leaned over the bowed head of the perp. “They
use you for currency. They trade you and pass you around. When they’re done,
they beat you.” He stood up.
The perp shook
his head. He knew he wouldn’t last for five minutes on Thieves’ Island. “I want
to cut a deal.”
Helm chuckled.
“A deal? What deal?”
B’ya looked up.
“I saw that werewolf attack in Big City last night.”
Helm looked at
him for a moment and then took a breath.
*
Officers
Gorecki and Tate rolled slowly through Goblin Hill. Tate, from the passenger
seat, shined the search light into the dark places between buildings.
“Do they really
expect us to try to capture this thing alive?” Gorecki said.
“Those are the
orders. They gave us the tranquilizer gun.” Tate said leading out the window.
Gorecki, a
fifteen year veteran, chuckled. “There’s too many boneheaded cops for that plan
to work. Too many young guys like you who want to flex their muscles. The thing’s
dead.”
“What the hell
is that supposed to…” Tate’s light fell on a greenish brown mass that swiftly
bolted out of the light. “Stop the car. I think I got it.”
A moment later,
Gorecki was stepping out of his car and giving a call to dispatch, requesting
back up. Tate cocked the tranquilizer gun and walked in the path of the search
light toward the alleyway.
Gorecki
followed him at a safe distance.
Tate realized
that he could see little outside the beam of light. “Hey Gorecki. Move that light up a bit. A little further into the
alley.”
Gorecki turned
around and moved to the light. He aimed it up further to give the alley for a
better wash. He was stunned when the light revealed an animal, standing on its
back legs ripping the throat out of his partner. The creature looked at him and
growled.
Gorecki opened
fire. The beast bolted.
A moment later
the BCPD radio frequency was filled with the terrified voice of the fifteen
year veteran screaming; “Officer down! Officer down!”
*
Needless woke
to the sound of pounding on his front door. He struggled to get off the couch,
knocking over a glass laid on the floor. “Hold on!” He barked. He pulled on the
pants lying on the floor and moved to the door.
As the door
opened Stack stood staring at him.
“What’s up?
I’ve been trying to call for a couple of hours.” Stack said handing Needless a
cup of coffee.
“I guess I was
pretty out of it.” Needless said.
“There was
another attack last night. The thing killed a cop. Apparently they have a guy
in lock up in Mistwood Heights who claims he witnessed the first attack, on
Eckers. We gotta get up there and take his statement.”
Needless moved
away from the door and began searching for some clothes. Stack stepped into the
room. He looked around. Clothes, dishes and garbage littered the room.
“Man, this
place is a mess.”
Needless
trudged into his bedroom. “Yeah. Sorry. I’ve just been out of it lately.”
A minute later
Needless emerged, dressed. He sipped his coffee and the two stepped out into
the hallway. As they made their way downstairs to the car, they passed a group
of small children in their pajamas playing in the hallway.
As the two cops
walked out into the early morning air, the children began playing werewolf.
Partly because they saw the police. Partly because of the huge claw marks one
of them found dug into the banister of the stairway.
*
Vleash returned
from the scene of the night’s attack and collapsed into his chair. He tried to
steady his mind while he turned on his computer. Officer Tate had been a mess.
The wolf hadn’t even fed. It was a straight kill. He logged in and began to
check his email.
He couldn’t help
feeling vindicated. For years he had been telling the folks at City Hall that
the Lyc Division was needed. But the “experts” claimed that werewolf
populations were dwindling and moving into more rural settings. That’s enough
for the city to yank funding. He knew it was wrong to gloat, so he kept it to
himself.
He scanned over
the spam offering him cheap pharmaceuticals and finally came to an email from
the Assistant Medical Examiner. The preliminary tests on the tissue samples had
already provided a match with 90% certainty.
He read
further.
His blinked in
disbelief. “Oh no.” He muttered.
*
“So, tell us
what happened.” Stack said, sitting across the table from B’ya and his public
defender.
“Eckers called
me and said he wanted to meet. He was out and looking to buy.” B’ya began.
“Fleck?”
Needless asked.
“Yeah. So, I
made my way down to the alley. My stepbrother lives in one of the adjacent
buildings, so I pulled together about 3 ounces and started heading down the
fire escape. By the time I got out the window, I heard Eckers talking to
somebody. I got near the ground and I see this thing leap out of nowhere on to
him. I ducked behind a dumpster.”
Stack jotted
down some notes. “You didn’t go to help him?”
“Hell no. The
thing was huge and fast. I watched it rip him up. After the thing ripped his
throat out, Eckers went limp. I knew he was dead. But then something strange
happened.” B’ya looked at his lawyer. The lawyer nodded. “The creature sort of
straightened up for a second.”
Needless leaned
in. “Straightened up?”
“You know,
stood up. Just for a second, and I swear it didn’t have claws anymore. It had
hands.”
“You’re telling
us it changed back? While you watched?” Stack inquired. “Can you describe The
Host?”
“No. It was
still a wolf but it had hands. Then it messed with Eckers body for a second and
then bolted. I took off and caught the redline out here to Mistwood Heights.”
Needless shook
his head. “You’re saying the werewolf tampered with the body?”
“I’m just
telling you what I saw.”
“And that’s all
he has to tell you.” The lawyer interjected.
Stack and
Needless looked at each other.
*
Traffic back
from Mistwood Heights was killer. For the sixth straight month the Treacle
Freeway was down to one way. It took Stack and Needless nearly two hours to get
back to the station. They climbed the steps to Homicide.
“I don’t get
it.” Needless said sipping a coffee. “I can only imagine that B’ya must have
been pretty high and misread what he saw.”
“There’ll
definitely be questions about his testimony, if it ever gets down to that.”
As the two
stepped into the office, they became aware the nearly everyone was standing,
staring at them. The two glanced at each other, and then back at the office.
“Stack, step
away please.” Came a voice.
Stack looked to
his left to see Vleash with a gun trained at him. Stack drew his gun and aimed
it back. In a flash, all hell broke
loose, as every cop in the place went for his gun and aimed it at the two.
Needless turned
around to see the Special Weapons Squad, in full riot gear, move up the stairs,
automatic guns trained on him and Stack.
“Vleash, what
the hell are you doing?!” Stack bellowed.
“Just put the
gun down, and step away from John.”
“What are you
talking about?! Put your gun down!”
“It’s him,
Stack.” Vleash said.
“Him who? Would
somebody please tell me what’s going on?”
“Stack,
Needless is the Lycanthrope.”
The room sank
in around Needless.
“Are you all
crazy!?” Stack shouted.
“Think about
it. Eckers was your suspect. The claw marks on your door. Needless, the test on
the tissue under his nails were conclusive.” Vleash lowered the gun a bit.
“It’s you, John.”
Tension filled
the room. Stack shook his head. “Needless is not a werewolf!”
Needless lowered
his gun. As stupid as it sounded, it explained a lot. “Actually, Stack, I don’t
know. The mornings, waking up naked in my living room...”
Stack looked
over his shoulder at Needless. “No. No, man. You’re not.”
Needless looked
at him blankly. “I think they might be right, Stack.”
Stack thought
for a moment. He looked at Vleash. “What are you going to do with him?”
Vleash looked
at Needless. “We just need to take him into custody, to a hospital for
observation and testing. I promise you, I will do everything to help him.”
Stack closed
his eyes. He lowered his gun and turned. As Needless and Stack stared silently
at each other, Special Weapons rushed in and put Needless in custody. Vleash
looked at Stack, and led Needless to the van waiting outside.
Stack turned
and looked at Breen, who stepped up to him.
“Adam, as
unlikely as it seems, I saw the test results. It’s true.” Breen said.
“But did they
need the freaking army storming in here to take him?” He looked at all his
fellow officers in the room. All Stack could muster was a weak look of
disappointment “And you… I just…” He
couldn’t finish his sentence. He shook his head and walked out into the street
and watched as Needless was put in the back of the back of a protective van.
Stack caught
Needless’ eye and again they stared at each other. Vleash helped Needless into
the van and took a seat himself. He nodded to Stack and shut the doors. Stack
watched as the van pulled away.
He shoved his
hands in his pockets and headed to his car.
*
The woman had
shoulder length auburn hair, cut so that it framed her aquiline face squarely.
As she read, she looked through a pair of half-cut reading glasses. Every few
moments she would look up as she finished a line, just as she was taught to do
in public speaking courses. Flashes went off, capturing the moment.
“Sgt. D’yen has
what is termed as a Dissociative Morphic Disorder. This is a broad term for
varying disorders that involve the changing of the musculature, epidermis and
personality. Sgt. D’yen suffers from Type B Lycanthropy, which includes a
longer term transformation. He is not showing signs of Type C, which involves a
permanent transformation. He is lucid, and has no memory of either his
transformations, or his acts, while in the lycanthropic state. He is currently
undergoing a battery of tests to determine the next course of action in his
recovery.” The woman stepped back from the podium and Commissioner Bledsoe
stepped up.
“Thank you, Dr.
Autumn. Assistant District Attorney Byron Pharlis will now take questions.”
Bledsoe said. She then stepped back, and Pharlis stepped forward. Several
voices bombarded him. One particular reporter caught his eye. The question was
inaudible on television but Pharlis nodded.
“The District
Attorney’s Office is waiting for a final report from Dr. Autumn’s clinic before
we decide how to prosecute this case.” Pharlis said to the reporter. The
reporter followed up with another inaudible question. “At this point I don’t
want to speculate on possible charges. These were unspeakable crimes done by a
sick man. We might be writing new legislation.” He responded.
“Commissioner
Bledsoe!” Came a voice closer to the microphone. Bledsoe leaned in to the
podium and listened to the question. “Isn’t it true that Sgt. D’yen has been
cited several times during his time with the police for using excessive force,
to the point where he is known by the department as ‘Needless Action’.”
Bledsoe
swallowed hard. It pained her to answer this question. “Yes. We all know him as
Needless Action. However, to balance that statement, he has received many
awards for outstanding service, and was one of the lead investigators that help
break up the Manzetti Syndicate.” She smiled to the reporter. “He was…is…a
zealous officer but a good one.” Someone shouted something from the back of the
room. In response Bledsoe shook her head. “No. Sgt. D’yen’s partner, Adam
Forray, has been taken off the case,
and will be questioned as part of the investigation. Sgt. Vleash of the
Lycanthropy division is now heading up the case.”
“Tucker!” Stack
barked across the bar. “Can you switch that?” Tucker nodded and complied. The
newscast was on every network, but Tucker managed to find a game show rerun on
the satellite. Stack nodded in thanks, and let his arm fall amongst the shot
classes and beer mugs that littered the bar in front of him.
Six people
down, a goblin, three sheets to the wind, began yelling to anyone who would
listen. “Cops! Friggin’ cops! He’ll get
off! They always do.” He said. Stack quietly looked up at Tucker. Tucker leaned
in to the goblin patron and spoke. The goblin looked down the bar as Stack
looked back at his Moonglow. The goblin chuckled. “Awww that’s too bad! Hey!
Hey cop! What’s it like working with the wolf man.” Stack kept his cool through
his haze and continued to stare at the glass. The goblin stood up. “He’s not
even a man. He’s a lousy half-breed!” The goblin laughed again. “Actually he’s
a triple breed I guess. Elf, human, wolf! He’s working on a royal flush.” He
laughed too boisterously, and several patrons rolled their eyes at the drunk.
“That’s enough
Krik! Leave it alone.” Tucker said trying to diffuse the situation.
Stack dropped
one shot glass into another with tight fingers.
Krik stumbled toward Stack. “Hey cop! Did you
have to keep your partner on a leash?”
The goblin
suddenly felt himself spin around. He was now facing an unshaven face whose
eyes were stabbing into him.
“Krik. Shut
that goblin yapper of yours, or I’ll tell your wife you’ve been banging that
little chippy in the bookstore.” Smiles said, before he shoved the drunk back
onto his barstool. Krik shut up and went back to marinating himself in booze.
A calm settled
over the bar as Smiles stepped up to Stack. Stack didn’t look up. “Thanks.” He
said.
Smiles sat on
the stool next to Stack. He lit a smoke. “I thought I might find you here.”
“I’m assuming
you heard.”
Smiles blew out
his first mouthful of smoke. “Yeah.”
“It’s not true,
Smiles. I know it’s not.”
Smiles put his
hand on his friend’s back. “I know.” He motioned to Tucker for the bill. “Come
on. Let’s get you home.”
Smiles only had
to stop his car once on the way to Stack’s place to let the drunk detective
vomit out the door onto the curb. The rest of the ride was taken in silence.
Smiles pulled up in front of Stack’s apartment building and helped him out the
door.
“Come on.”
Smiles said, helping his former partner stand.
As the two
approached the door, a figure glided from the shadows. Her pale skin shimmered
in the moonlight.
“The press have
driven by several times, Sgt. Forray.” She said
A sloppy, sad
smile appeared on Stack’s face. “Hi Sioux.” He struggled free of Smiles and
stood up. “Sioux Vliss, this is my friend Robert Johnson.” He said in a simple
introduction. He extended a hand toward Sioux. “This is Sioux. She’s a Medical
Examiner with the Coroner’s office. She’s Needless’…” He shrugged unable, in
his state, to think of a better term. ”…girlfriend.”
Smiles and
Sioux shook hands. With vampire grace she nodded her head. “You’re the one
called Smiles. John has spoken of you often.”
Smiles chuckled
to himself. “I’m sure he did. Don’t believe a word of it.”
“I think we
should go inside in case more reporters turn up.” She said as she turned and
moved up the steps to the door.
*
Needless
shivered in the bed. The restraints were tight, and the sheets were too thin.
He didn’t know what time it was. He figured it was night as they had shut the
lights off. He couldn’t sleep. He wouldn’t let himself. He drove his
fingernails into his palm and bit down on his tongue to stay awake.
He looked down
the length of the bed to the wall facing him. The swirling red and green
madness of the painting was still there. No change yet. It must be coming. He
heard the IV drip that fed the sedative into his blood click open for a moment
and then close again. The urge to sleep would come again soon. He tried with
all of his might to keep control.
It was still
unreal to him. How could he have this thing inside of him? Then he thought
about those mornings, waking up naked in the living room. Tears welled in his
eyes. He thought of the bodies. The way they had been ripped apart. He thought
of his family. He thought of his mother. She must have heard, he thought. She
knows that I killed those people.
His quiet tears
gave way to a wail. A wail that echoed along the darkened corridors of the
clinic. A wail that seemed to go unnoticed.
*
The Big City
morning kicked Stack in the kidneys. His head-wide buzz had dwindled during the
night to a pin-prick of pain behind his eyes. He had crashed out in his clothes,
which had the perfume of a dozen shots, Smiles’ cigarettes and vomit. He
stumbled to the bathroom and took care of business.
He vaguely
remembered Charlie and Laura coming over the night before. Was that only last
night? They had maintained a blackout in the apartment to thwart the press.
They had huddled around his poker table, with only the light from the fish tank
allowing them to see each other.
He couldn’t
remember the specifics of the discussion, how long the discussion went on, or
what day it was. He remembered Smiles talking. ‘There are two conclusions
here,’ Smiles had said. ‘One is that Needless is, in fact a werewolf. The other
is that some one has gone to considerable trouble to frame him.’
Stack splashed
cold water on his face. He pulled on a T-shirt and some jeans and went to the
kitchen. There he found a note from Smiles:
“I thought I should leave you this note, in
case you don’t remember our conversation last night. Go see if you can visit
Needless in the Lycanthropic Research Center and Clinic today. It’s up the hill
on Pendant Avenue. We’ll meet at my office tonight. - J ”
Stack nodded
and turned on his coffee pot. It was going to be a long day.
*
Smiles took a last drag and threw the
cigarette to the patch of dirt that separated two strips of brown grass.
Needless’ apartment building wasn’t the nicest that Smiles had seen, but wasn’t
the worst by far. The parking lot was filled with a wide array of cars. From
middle class two doors, to older SUVs, down to late model, rusted out boats.
Smiles instinctively drew the conclusion that the inhabitants were mostly
young. Couples just starting out. First apartments out of the house. The
building wasn’t far from the downtown BCU campus, so students were a
possibility too.
Smiles frowned.
Not really a crowd that would readily remember a ruckus if there was one.
Mostly too young to have become busy-bodies yet. There was still hope that
Needless lived next to some cranky old bat who watched his every move. Smiles
slipped around back. His suspicions about the average age of the occupants was
further bolstered by the well used playground area. Young families, he thought.
None of this
seemed to fit Smiles’ image of where Needless would live. Somehow he had always
figured Needless would live in some singles-only community with a glass top gym
you could look down on. He just figured the kid for Alpha Male Housing, not the
Family Fun Hour. Smiles mentally smacked his own hand. ‘Bad detective.’ He
thought.
The back of
Needless’ building created a central courtyard with six other buildings of
roughly the same type. It hadn’t been planned this way; the community just grew
up this way over the years. A newer, wooden outdoor stair case had replaced
what Smiles assumed had been an old fire escape. The effect now was that every
apartment had a balcony and a set of back stairs. Smiles straightened his tie
and donned his “city inspector” character that always held off curious people,
for at least a little while.
He climbed the
stairs to Needless’ apartment without incident. He stooped low and peered into
the kitchen window. No cops around. He moved to the backdoor and tripped the
lock. He quietly stepped into the apartment. He listened for a moment and then
moved on.
The apartment
was a mess. The dishes had been in the sink for several days. Old newspapers,
not even unrolled, were thrown in the corner. He moved into the main room.
Clothes littered the floor. There were some empty bottles and some glasses on
the table. Smiles lifted a glass and smelled it. He was surprised that it
wasn’t alcohol; it was water. He put the glass back on the table.
He stood in the
middle of the room for a moment. This is where Needless claimed to wake up
every morning. He dropped to his knees and began scanning the floor for hair,
blood, anything.
It was then that it dawned on Smiles that it
didn’t appear that the police lab boys had been there yet.
He looked at
his watch. It wasn’t very late in the morning. They could show up at any moment
and, with his luck, would. Smiles’ heart began to race. He stood up. There were
no signs of a violent transformation. While it was a mess, it was a typical
bachelor mess. Not the mess of an animal lashing out at it surroundings. If
someone had been framing him, they didn’t take this step for some reason.
Unless Needless left, morphed, and turned back before he came home.
Something
wasn’t adding up. Stack had told them that Needless had been having blackouts
lately. Drugged? Thought Smiles. How? If Needless was being set up, the
offenders would have to wait until he was out cold, come in, strip him down and
leave him on the floor. Needless had to believe it himself. Needless wasn’t the
kind of guy who would let somebody slip him something. He went to the kitchen.
There was nothing in the fridge that could have been drugged. His kitchen
looked like Needless had been eating out for a while. Fast food bags. They
couldn’t drug him that way. How would they know where he was going?
‘No,’ thought
Smiles, ‘there’s something here that did it. Something that drugged him
unknowingly.’
Smiles’ luck
was right on time. He heard voices in the hall outside.
“I don’t have
the keys.” Said one voice.
“I’ll go get
the super.” Said another.
Smiles jumped
and looked around. He didn’t have much time. He had to get the proof, before
the department got their hands on it. Something here. Something in here. If he
was going to repeatedly drug someone, he thought, how would he do it? Smiles looked at the darker side of his mind.
If a drugging like this was going to take place, there would have to be some
assurance that it would work. It would be something that the victim would use
every day. Toothpaste? Mouthwash? Soap?
No, there would have to be ingestion.
His eyes fell
on the faucet-attached water purifier. He raced into the other room and
snatched the glass of water he had found on the table. It was a long shot, but
worth a try. He heard the voices return outside the front door of the apartment
as he hurried to the back door. He slipped out just as the boys from the crime
lab came in.
Smiles slipped
out the back and shut the door just as the door shut behind the cops. Maybe his
luck was changing.
*
“The city
decided to privatize Lycanthropic diagnosis and treatment a few years ago.” Dr.
Autumn smiled. “It was a very wise move. It signaled a change from the shoot
and dissect mentality that existed for years. We can find out more about this
disease by working to heal living victims, rather than cut up dead ones.”
Stack nodded.
“This because of the Tronnage thing about ten years ago?”
“Exactly. The
inhumanity brought out in that case went a long way toward the understanding
and treatment of this affliction. It’s something
that the city doesn’t have the time or money to train for. So here I am.” Dr.
Autumn stopped. They stood at the junction of the longer hallway and a shorter
one.
The building
itself was an older building. Probably an old insurance office, Stack thought.
Two levels. The Clinic had only been open a short time. Dr. Autumn had explained that before she
came, the procedure was to ship the victims out into the suburbs for treatment.
Needless was the only patient at the moment.
Stack looked at
his shoes. “Dr. Autumn, what are John’s chances of kicking this?”
“Sgt. Forray, your
partner is very sick. I don’t want to misrepresent the odds of treating him. We
lose more than we cure. That’s where this science is right now.”
“What happens
to patients that progress to Type C and never change back?” Stack took a deep
breath.
Dr. Autumn
cradled her clipboard close to her as she spoke. “Well, there have been some
private refuges built around the country. They are pretty expensive. Usually, “
she looked up into Stack’s face, “they’re put down and burned.” Nothing more was said. She led him to the
door. “He’s been given a steady dosage of a sedative, so he’s pretty groggy.”
Stack looked at
her. “Did anything happen last night?”
“Yes. He had a
rather violent morphic episode last night. He destroyed the room, but he was
contained. The security camera caught the whole thing. Sgt. Vleash was sent a
copy of the tape.” She stopped at the door. “I should warn you, Sgt. Forray,
the room might still be a bit of a mess after last night.”
“You didn’t
move him to another room?”