The Night's Champion Collection: A supernatural werewolf thriller trilogy

by Richard Parry

  Carlisle stared at him again. “Walk me through it.”

  “Okay.” Val checked points off on his fingers. “One. My doctor is not involved in a grand conspiracy. He played golf with my Dad on Sundays. Two. I need to know what’s going on with me.”

  Danny put a hand on his arm. “Like what?”

  Val tapped his phone’s screen, then held it up beside his face. The photo on it was him, but much fatter. “Like this.”

  “So. You lost some weight.”

  “That photo was taken last week.”

  The room fell quiet, the only sound the light scratching of Adalia’s pens against paper. John spoke up. “It’s true. He’s lost a heap of weight.”

  “I bought new clothes.”

  “He bought new clothes.” John nodded.

  “That’s not all.” Val looked down at his hands. “There’s … other stuff.”

  Danny searched his face. “Like what?”

  He stood up, walking to the window. “Your neighbors are having a fight. About the rent.”

  “What?”

  “I can hear them.”

  “The boundary wall is soundproofed.” Danny coughed. “You’re imagining it.”

  “Her name’s Jasmine. He’s an asshole.”

  “You’re not imagining it then.” Danny frowned.

  “There’s more.” Val turned to face them. He started to tap a rhythm with his finger against his thigh. “There’s this.”

  John looked at him. “White men can’t dance?”

  Val ignored him, finger still tapping. “Can you guess?”

  Carlisle spoke up. “I can. It’s not possible.”

  Val’s finger kept tapping, speeding up a little now.

  “Christ. Stop it.” Carlisle watched his finger.

  “What is it?” Danny looked at Val, then at Carlisle. “I don’t get it.”

  Carlisle turned away. “It’s my pulse.” She took her hand away from her wrist. “Perfect time. How—”

  “I can hear it.”

  “Bullshit.” John put his cup down on the table.

  “Ten cents!” Adalia piped up from the table.

  John felt around in his pocket for some change, then dropped a coin into the jar on the bench. “It’s racketeering, is what it is.”

  Val stood up. “Guys. Look. I. Well.” He put his hands in his pockets. “I haven’t been drunk in days.”

  John looked at him. “You on the program? Nice work buddy! When—”

  “No, John.” Val’s smile was sad. He walked towards the kitchen. “I’ve tried to drink. Last time, when I took Danny out. It doesn’t do anything. But there’s one other thing.”

  They watched him as he fiddled about in the kitchen, pulling open the waffle iron. “I’ve left it on. For a second helping. Anyone want more waffles?”

  Carlisle shook her head. Danny didn’t move. John said, “I could go another round.”

  Val popped a dollop of butter on the plate of the waffle iron. It hissed and sizzled as he moved it about the plate, coating it. He ladled some mixture into the waffle iron. The smell of cooking waffle started to waft into the room.

  After a minute, Danny spoke up. “I don’t get it. What’s the other thing? You can make waffles?”

  Val kept looking at the waffle iron, then popped the cooked waffle out of the iron and onto a plate. “That’s the thing. I discovered it this morning.” He smiled that same sad smile again as he put some more butter on the waffle iron, then turned to Adalia. “Could you head to your room for just a sec and see if you can find Maddy a friend?”

  “It’s Madeline!”

  Val tousled her head, then sent her off with a pat on the back. “She probably shouldn’t be here for this.” He turned back to the waffle iron.

  Danny looked after her daughter, then back to Val. “What? She shouldn’t be here for what?”

  He took a few deep breaths. “This.” He put his hand in the waffle iron, shutting the lid. The searing sound was audible above his hissed breath.

  John leapt out of his seat, running to the kitchen. “Motherfucker!” He wrenched open the iron, tossing it aside, and flipping on the faucet’s cold tap. He reached for Val’s hand.

  Val held it up and away from him, towards the rest of them in the room. The burn marks were clear, the hash pattern of the iron stark and red against his palm, blisters already forming. They watched as the marks faded away, leaving his hand smooth and clear.

  John stared at him for a few moments, then slowly turned off the faucet. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

  Val flexed his hand. “You sure? It’s good as new.”

  Carlisle whistled low. “This is an, ah, interesting development.”

  “You’re telling me.” Val pulled out his phone. “So yeah. I think I need to go see Barny.”

  Adalia came back in carrying a small sheep. “I’ve brought Shawn.”

  Val smiled at her. She didn’t seem to notice the strain around his eyes as she sat back down at the table, putting Shawn next to Madeline.

  John leaned against the kitchen bench. “At least take one of us with you.”

  “What for?”

  John stared at him. “To help.”

  “I don’t think Barny needs help doing more tests. He’s got nurses and shit for that.”

  “Ten cents!”

  “Christ.” Val pulled out his wallet, dropping some notes into the swear jar. “There. I’m in credit now.”

  “He’s right.” Carlisle shifted in the gurney. “Everyone needs backup.”

  Val’s finger hovered over the dial button. “You’re going to come? You’ve been shot.”

  “I’ll go.” Danny stood up from the floor.

  Pack mate.

  “Absolutely not.” Val cleared his throat. “I couldn’t—”

  “Couldn’t what?” Danny rested her hands on her hips.

  John held up a hand. “I think a team approach is best.”

  “Exactly. I’m on the team.”

  John smiled. “Look, we’ve got a bed case here—”

  “I’m a science major. Just because I’ve got breasts I’m the nurse?”

  “I don’t need a nurse.” Carlisle started to get out of the gurney, then fell back. “I wouldn’t mind a hand up. I need to take a leak.”

  John’s megawatt smile came out. “It’s not like that. What I was thinking is we split up.”

  Val looked at him. “Where are you going with this? I don’t want to put Danny in danger.”

  “Relax. Work with me here. The way I see it is, there’s some weird shit going down. We’ve got a missing cop,” and he nodded to Carlisle, “your partner, right?”

  Carlisle nodded back.

  “Right. Missing cop, weird shit number one. Number two, the police station was busted up by soldiers. I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve never heard of that one before.”

  “Terminator.” Danny was looking out the window.

  “What?”

  “Terminator. Arnie movie. You must have seen it.”

  “Sure. I’ve seen it. I didn’t see any freakin’ robots though.”

  “Ten cents!”

  “I said ‘freakin’,” not ‘fucking.’”

  “Ten cents!”

  “Oh for f… fine.” Coins clinked into the swear jar.

  Val spoke up. “Three, they need a sample, when I feel the best I’ve felt in years.”

  “That’s medicine buddy, not weird. But we’ll include it. Right?” John patted Val on the arm. “Chin up. Number four, you can heal major burns and hear heartbeats. And that’s not the weirdest thing.”

  “It’s not?”

  “No. Five, the soldiers have silver bullets. Right? Silver,” said John, “bullets.”

  “Okay, I’d agree that’s weird, but not the weirdest thing. Me hearing heartbeats is pretty weird.”

  “I haven’t got to the weirdest thing.”

  “What is it?”

  John scowled at him. “No showmanship, th
at’s your problem. Okay. Six. There’s a freakin’ werewolf out there.”

  “Don’t be silly. Werewolves aren’t real.” Adalia looked up from her coloring to Danny. “Are they, Mommy?”

  The silence sat heavy in amongst them, like another person in a chair. Adalia looked between them all. “Werewolves aren’t real.”

  Danny scooped her into a hug. “Of course not, honey.” She kissed the top of Adalia’s head.

  Carlisle sighed. “Labels aren’t important, but I know what I saw.”

  “What? You were unconscious when we pulled you out of the hospital.”

  “There was a werewolf at the hospital?” Carlisle sat up.

  “Wait. What? Yes. Where did you think we were talking about?” John looked around the room at the rest of them.

  “I.” Carlisle looked down at the blankets on the gurney. “Seriously, I need to take a piss.”

  Val stepped forward. “Where, Melissa?”

  Carlisle sighed. “Vince — my partner — was showing me some surveillance footage. From across from where you guys got mugged.”

  “We didn’t get mugged.”

  John nodded. “Yeah. Yeah we did.”

  “I’d remember something—”

  It spat its puny fire at his face. He batted it aside, reaching for —

  Val sat down slowly on the kitchen floor.

  John crouched down. “You okay, man?”

  “I … when was this?” Val looked up from the floor.

  “Couple nights ago. Remember, I was in the hospital? You came and got us out.” John gestured at Danny. “You met her.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Hey.” Danny spoke up. “You don’t remember meeting me?”

  “We’d been drinking pretty solid.” John smiled. “See? It’s not all bad. The booze still gets you. It’s just got to be enough.”

  “It’s not that. I remember Danny. How could I forget?” A smile darted across his face, then was gone. “That was … it was the morning after that I went to get the blood work done.” Val thought for a moment. “I think some of my teeth came out.”

  “Definitely mugged.” John helped him up.

  “I don’t think—”

  Danny broke in. “It’s all fine that you don’t remember meeting me—”

  “I remember!”

  “But I want to know.” Danny turned to Carlisle. “What was on the tapes?”

  Carlisle shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “Something big. Fast. I remember that. Tore a bunch of guys apart.” Carlisle looked at the window. “I really need to take a piss.”

  Danny held out a hand, helping her up. “Bathroom’s down the hall. Somewhere here … ah, here it is. The hospital gave us a bag of stuff. Bandages.” She handed a bag with the biohazard emblem on the side to Carlisle.

  Carlisle took it, looking at the emblem. “They gave it to you?”

  “It’s probably best not to ask. Bathroom’s the first door, toilet’s the second.”

  John looked after Carlisle. “She’s saying, uh. She’s saying that where we were mugged, that thing was there? And we survived?”

  “The thing at the hospital?” Val rubbed his left wrist. “No wonder I got some teeth knocked loose.”

  “You did okay in there.”

  “I didn’t really. You were there. You shot it.” Val looked at John. “You’ve always been there.”

  “Don’t get all mushy on me. Anyway, weird shit number six, am I right?”

  “Okay, six weird things.”

  Danny joined them in the kitchen, swirling the coffee pot. They both nodded, and she rummaged for more cups. “So. What do we do?”

  John leaned back. “Like I said, team approach. First, we need to get Adalia somewhere. They found you pretty quick at the station, Val. God knows when they’ll next come for you, but…” He broke off.

  Danny nodded. “Okay. Thanks. Yeah.” She handed them each a cup. “I’ve got a friend.”

  “Nice.” John raised his eyebrows. “You got a number?”

  She punched him in the arm. “We’re like sisters.”

  “Even better.”

  Danny sighed. “Adalia can stay there a few days.”

  “Great.” John broke out the megawatt smile again. “We’ll have this nailed in a few days. Second. The cop.”

  Pack.

  Val looked at him. “Carlisle? What about her?”

  “She stays here. Mans the base.”

  “The base?”

  “Yeah. Here.”

  “My house is not a base.” Danny looked around. “It might not be much, but—”

  “The base. Carlisle mans the base.” John stared at them both. “You’re like a couple of kids. Third. The tests. Val goes in. I’ll wait around the corner, in a car. If anything cocks up, if we get to weird shit number seven, Val runs on out. I’ll have the engine running. We’ll jet.”

  Val sipped his coffee, looking between Danny and John.

  Pack is the reason for living.

  “I—”

  “Val. Look.” John set his cup down. “When have I ever let you down?”

  Val thought for a moment. “There was that time with Lucy Smith—”

  “Besides that.”

  “Never.”

  “Who’s Lucy Smith?” Danny looked at John.

  “I’ll tell you later. Like I said, I’ve never let you down. The plan is solid. It’ll work.”

  “What plan?” Carlisle moved back in, slowly lowering herself into a chair.

  “The one that means you don’t need to leave that chair. Except to take a piss.”

  “Excellent. Let’s do it.”

  Val nodded. It was a good plan.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Val looked across at Barny. “So, doc. You need to run more tests.”

  Phillips smiled at him. “It just procedure, Val. Your sample showed something unusual.”

  “So you think I’ve got something?” Val leaned forward a little. “Like what?”

  “Oh hell, Val.” Phillips rubbed his chin. “I didn’t mean that. No, if I had to judge, I’d say you were doing great. Say, why don’t you hop on the scales here for me.”

  Val stood up, walking to the scales in the corner. They were an old style with sliding weights at the top. He climbed on the weight plate and Phillips fiddled with the sliders.

  “Hm.” Phillips rubbed his chin.

  “What is it?” Val looked at the weight scales, then back at Phillips.

  “I didn’t say it was anything. I said, ‘Hm.’” Phillips walked back over to his desk and poked at his computer keyboard a few times. “Damn thing. Here it is … say, Val. Can you read that weight out to me?”

  “Do I have to? You know I hate this bit.”

  Phillips looked over his glasses at Val. “Humor an old man.”

  Val sighed. “Uh. Looks about, what’s this, two hundred, that’s a ten, so two ten. Wait. What?”

  Phillips beamed at him. “You’ve lost weight.”

  “That’s more than losing weight. That’s amputation. What was I before?”

  “Three ten.”

  “Three hundred and ten?”

  “And change.”

  Val looked down at the scales again. “These aren’t busted?”

  “Janice Henson was in here before you. They’re not busted.”

  “Who’s Janice Henson?”

  “Let’s just say I diagnosed her last week with diabetes.”

  “Ah.” Val thought for a moment. “I’ve lost a hundred pounds?”

  “And change, as I said. And … I’ll be honest here. I was pretty sure I was going to have the same conversation with you as I had with Janice.”

  “What conversation?”

  “Stop eating or you’ll die.”

  “Christ, doc.” Val cleared his throat. “But … how is this possible? I mean, I’ve bought some new clothes, but—”


  Phillips gestured at a chair. “Take a seat, Val.”

  “Okay.” Val sat, shifting around in the chair to make himself comfortable.

  “There’s a couple of possibilities that I can think of for weight loss, but not of that magnitude. The honest truth is none of them are really good. We’ll need to get a biopsy. If you’re okay with it. And then, well, maybe a scan.”

  “What kind of a scan?”

  “Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it.” Phillips stood, arching his back as he looked out the window. “Damn back.”

  “What’s wrong with your back?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with it.” Phillips looked down at Val. “I’m old, Val. That’s all.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Hell.” Phillips sighed. “No need to be sorry. It’s just age.”

  “So … what’s the bad news?”

  “Could be nothing.” Phillips looked out the window again. “Could be alcoholic liver disease.”

  “That sounds bad.”

  “Could be worse.”

  “What? How?”

  “Could be liver cancer too.”

  “Cancer? Christ.”

  Phillips chuckled. “I’m just messing with you, Val. It could be cancer. You kids, you always look up a diagnosis on the Google.”

  “It’s just Google.”

  “What?”

  “It’s not, ‘the Google.’ It’s just Google. There’s no, ‘the.’”

  “Okay. You look up a diagnosis on … Google. Come in here with a cold, convinced it’s cancer.”

  “Is it cancer?”

  “That’s why we want to do a biopsy.”

  “Because it could be cancer?”

  “Because we don’t know.”

  “Oh. Right.” Val stood up. “Let’s get it done then.”

  “It’s going to hurt.”

  “Can you use some anesthetic?”

  “Everyone hates biopsies, Val. Five year olds cry about it.”

  Val stared at Phillips. “When did you get to be so cranky?”

  “When I realized I was getting old. Hop up on your back on the bed.”

  Val watched as Phillips moved around the small room, grabbing a few shining steel instruments. He lifted Val’s shirt. “Jesus, Val. Have you been working out?”

  Val looked at his stomach. “A little.”

  “Right. ‘A little,’ he says, and wonders why he’s been losing weight.”

  “No, really. Only a little.”