by Mac Flynn
Chapter 4
I pushed past him and hurried to the elevators. In a few minutes I was in a taxi and on my way home. The buildings passed by in blurs as my mind reeled with Johnny's news. The dead bodies, all those people. I wondered if anybody else had survived, if anybody else could corroborate my terrifying story.
My mind took a break from panicking and glanced out the window. A police station was coming up. I straightened and a smile slid onto my lips. They could protect me! They could make sure my story got out and everybody knew what monsters lurked on Wall Street. They weren't vampires, but werewolves!
"Pull over here," I ordered the cabbie.
I hurried out and up the stairs that led to the precinct. Through the doors was a madhouse of suspect processing, witness testimony-taking, and general paperwork pushing. A waiting room of sorts was at the front with wooden benches on either side against the walls. The benches were crowded, and a long desk separated the general population from the work of the police. Behind the desk were a few officers seated on stools who were speaking with two women of middle-aged who wore frowns as deep as the scars on my neck. The officers alternated between writing notes on a paper and glancing lazily up at the two women.
I hurried up to the desk and leaned over the counter. "I have to speak to someone," I told one of the officers.
He pointed to one of the benches and a ticket taker. "Wait in line until your number is called," he commanded.
"Officer, what are you going to do about our missing dog?" one of the women asked the policeman.
"As I told you before we don't handle missing pets. Ask the humane society," the officer told her.
"Please let me speak to an officer! They might be coming after me at this very minute!" I insisted.
The women sneered at me. "Nothing you have to say can be as important as our Fluffy-kins," one of them argued.
I snarled back at her, curling lips and all. The nearest woman's eyes widened and she slid away from me, taking her friend with her. With the desk clear I slid to the center position, but the officer resumed his paper writing. "Please let me see somebody. It's about what happened to those people last night. The people who were killed by that cult," I told him.
The officer paused in his writing and glanced up from his paper. "Are you serious?" he asked me.
"Would I be here if I wasn't serious?" I asked him. His eyes wandered past me and I turned to see a clown walk in with handcuffs on his wrists. I looked back to the officer. "I'm not clowning around here, this is serious. I have some important info on the people who murdered those other guys. I know what some of them looked like."
"All right, let me get you the lieutenant in charge of the case," he offered.
The officer slid off his stool and hurried to one of the office doors that lined the left side of the precinct. In a moment he was back with another man, a burly fellow with a bright, cheerful smile. The new man held out his hand to me. "Good morning, my name's Lieutenant Goodman. Officer Peabody here tells me you have some information for me," he commented.
I shook his hand and glanced around. "Yeah, but could we speak someplace else?" I requested.
"Certainly. Just follow me." He led me around the counter and through the jungle of desks to the rear of the building.
At the rear were two hallways, and he gently guided me ahead of him down the left-hand one. At the end of the hallway stood an Exit door. One either side of the hallway were doors labeled with plates, and on those plates were names like Interrogation and Lab.
As we strolled down the hall Lieutenant Goodman pulled out a pad and paper. "What's your name?" he asked me.
"Danica Lyman," I replied.
He wrote down the info. "Address?"
"I'd rather say that in the room if you don't mind," I told him.
"That's fine. Where do you work?" he wondered.
I gave him the info, but felt there was something wrong with this. I expected him to stop us at one of the Interrogation rooms, but he guided us toward the Exit door. Something didn't feel right about this. "Um, where are we going?" I asked him.
"To the rear of the building. There's a private spot back there where no one will bother us," he promised me.
I decided that was too private, and stopped and turned to him. "How about we talk about this-" My suggestion caught in my throat when I noticed his eyes. They were yellow.
"How about you keep going and not make a noise, or I'll rip your throat out," he ordered me.
The lieutenant pushed me ahead of him and I stumbled forward toward the Exit door. This man wasn't a man, he was a monster like the rest, and I had to escape him. I glanced around the hall, but there were only doorways into closed rooms. Not a good place to go with a dangerous werewolf at my back. We walked outside and into a narrow alley behind the precinct. It was quiet back there. The tall buildings blocked off much of the morning sunlight. Water sat in pools made from the potholes and cracks in the pavement. The rush from the street hardly reached my ears, but the smells of the trash reached my nose.
The werewolf grabbed my arm and turned me to face him. "You're the girl that made it out of there, aren't you?" he growled.
Under such circumstances I did what anyone would do if they were faced with an angry male werewolf. I kicked him in the balls. His eyes bulged out and he clutched at the family jewels as he fell to his knees onto the ground. I rushed past him down the alley to the light at the end of the tunnel, or street, in this case. The werewolf grunted, and in a few moments his feet splashed through the puddles just behind me. I stumbled and huffed my way through the alley and out into the bright light of the street. This was getting to be a thing with me running from werewolves out into the street.
"Stop! Stop!" the policeman yelled at me. Oh, hell no.
I hurried to the front of the precinct and rushed into the street, and to hell with a jaywalking citation. Car horns honked and people shouted various curses, most involving my parents. I hurled myself into the back of the first taxi that came my way. The driver turned in his seat and his eyes widened.
"You again!" he cried out. It was the same guy from last night, Roger the Cabbie.
"Step on it!" I yelled at him. I glanced toward the precinct and saw the lieutenant sniffing my way. Literally. His nose was in the air and I could see his nostrils flaring. He looked in my direction and snarled.
Traffic moved forward and so did we. The cabbie went with the flow and took me away from the wolf lieutenant and his murderous intentions. I slumped in the seat and wiped sweat from my brow. The cabbie glanced at me through his rear view mirror.
"Mind telling me what trouble you got into this time?" he wondered.
"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you," I replied.
"I've heard a lot of strange things drift from that back seat, so try me," he insisted.
I sighed and sat up. "A werewolf police lieutenant just tried to kill me because I'm the only witness and survivor to a werewolf cult massacre that took place at one of the glitzy buildings up town. The one I ran out of when I found you."
I waited for his reply. It was a long wait, but it came. "That's a new one," he commented.
I snorted. "You're telling me. Even I don't believe it, and I'm the one living this nightmare," I quipped.
"So you haven't told anybody about knowing about this cult except the lieutenant and me?" he wondered.
"Yep, and he wants to kill me," I reminded him. I leaned over the seat and looked at my cabbie. His lips were pursed and he stared straight ahead. "You think I'm crazy, don't you?" I asked him.
He shrugged. "It's kind of a crazy story, but I believe that you believe it's true," he replied.
I sighed and fell back onto my seat. "Well, it's true, every word of it, and I obviously can't go to the authorities."
"Do these cultist werewolf guys know who you are?" he inquired.
"I don't know. I told my name to t
he guy who picked me up and to the cop, but the guy last night just seemed to be a go-between for them. You know, somebody who picks people up and sends them off to be sacrificed," I replied.
"Well, if they ever find you and you need a ride, just give me a call and I'll come," he promised.
I smiled. "Where would I be without you, Roger?" I mused.
"Probably still hailing a taxi at that precinct. It's the lunch hour and a bad time to be hitching a ride in one," he commented. He glanced at me through the mirror. "By the way, how's that wound of yours?"
"It's fine. I woke up this morning and it was gone," I told him.
His eyebrows raised. "Completely gone?" he wondered.
"Well, not completely. I have a couple of scars from two teeth marks," I explained.
"Now that's just weird," he commented.
"Yeah, it goes with the rest of the weirdness," I agreed.
Roger drove me to my apartment and parked on the curb. I dug through my pockets, but he shook his head. "It's on the house again, just don't jump into my cab every day," he told me.
I smiled. "Thanks again. You're a life saver, and I mean that."
He smiled. "No problem. See you later."
I snorted. "Hopefully not too soon," I returned.
Roger winked at me. "You never know."
I walked up the steps and paused atop the stoop to turn back. Roger sat in his taxi and I noticed he was talking on a cellphone. Probably his bosses asking why he was driving so many miles without fare. I stepped inside and walked up to my apartment. My couch called to me, and I heeded its delightful voice by falling head-first into the cushions. Today had been a long day and it was only one o'clock in the afternoon.
Little did I know the day was about to get even longer, and all because of a knock on the door.
