by T S Paul
“Marcella ran the Witches Council?” I asked her.
Caroline smiled at me. “Mmm, did I say that? I must have misspoken.”
I nodded to her. She was telling me something I wasn’t explicitly supposed to know. “Will you tell us the child’s name?”
“Of course. His name is Eugene Tarbell. I noticed his aura several years ago down by the lake. You know the boy, I believe, Chief? His father is Morton Tarbell the newspaperman,” Caroline remarked, with a wry smile on her face.
Herring groaned, “The press? You’re killing me here, Caroline. Does his father know?”
“I don’t believe so. The boy came to me in secret the first time he made something move by accident. He, like every other child in this area, reads the paper and knows what ‘powers’ are when he sees them. This modern world of yours is so much easier than a century ago. I could go on for hours about dealing with lunkheads wanting me to marry them or proving their honor. So much easier to just drive away.” Caroline was starting to stray off topic and ramble.
“How powerful is he, Caroline?” I asked.
“I’m quite a good teacher, you know. If he wanted to, he could move that monstrosity you call a Capitol building and toss it into the lake. I doubt he’d do it, though. Wants to join the army, he does. Apparently, he knows quite a bit about the Demon Wars. A curse of having a literate father. In my day you were lucky if one person in twenty could read more than a sentence or two. So much easier. Was there anything else?” Caroline asked.
Chief Herring glanced in my direction and I ever so slightly shook my head. “That’s it, Caroline. I’ll pass what you said to the Governor, but I expect you’ll be seeing me again pretty soon,” he said.
“That’s fine, I can always use more frogs for me pond,” Caroline pointed toward a bubbling fountain next to the cottage. It had appeared as if by magic, and we could now hear the chirp and croak of its inhabitants.
Grabbing the chief by his shirt sleeve, I dragged him toward the car. “Interview’s over. Thank you, Miss Barnes.”
Once we were in the car and back on the road the Chief spoke up. “Would she have really turned me into a frog?”
“No idea. The Witches I know haven’t demonstrated that power to me, but I was surprised she knew my contact in the community. Marcella has more pull than even my bosses know about. What do you know about the Tarbell family?” I asked.
Springfield might feel like a small town, but in 1960 but it had more than eighty-thousand people living in it, and Chief Henry Herring didn’t know everyone. But someone from the local paper he did know. Especially an outspoken reporter like Morton Tarbell. Tarbell had been behind the movement to censure more than one local politician over tax overruns or spending. Telling the man his son had supernatural powers was going to be a blast.
“Base to Chief Herring, come in Chief.” A voice over the police radio interrupted our conversation.
The Chief grabbed the microphone, flipping the talk switch in the process, and said, “This is the chief.”
“Chief, Sergeant Sennett here, are you available to come back to base?”
“What is it Mack?” Herring asked.
“Got a fella here that says he’s with Army Intelligence. I tried to tell him he had to go through the Governor’s office, but he insists he speak to you and that FBI guy, Dalton,” Sergeant Sennett explained.
“Roger that. Tell him fifteen, twenty minutes. I’m on the other side of the lake,” Herring stated.
“Understood, out,” the sergeant replied.
Chief Herring looked over at me. “Something I should know about?”
I grimaced. “My boss warned me that they might show up. The same reports I got go to them. Unlike me, they know what an emerging Mage looks like. We can either work with him or against him. I suspect he has the power to go to the Governor and go over us if he invokes public safety.”
“Then we better get to it.” Chief Herring hit the lights and sirens and I got to have one of my childhood dreams satisfied. A screaming ride in a police car!
My van was less ostentatious and more functional. It stored all my weapons and gave me a safe place to sleep. Watching the cars pull over to the side as our car weaved in and out of traffic gave me a thrill.
Our car screamed into the parking lot and Herring switched off the siren and lights. Several officers stared our way until they saw it was the chief. “Let’s get this over with.”
Entering the station, we found a man dressed similarly to me but in pressed fatigues with all the military do-dads attached. He smiled at us and held out his credentials. “Captain Right at your service.”
I only glanced at the credentials, but Chief Herring carefully studied them. “This doesn’t say where you’re stationed out of.”
Taking his things back, the Captain replied, “I’m a floating Agent. My job is to investigate certain occurrences and recruit where needed.”
“Anything you’d like to share with us about these occurrences you speak of, Captain?” I asked.
The Army Captain smiled. His teeth were the whitest I’d seen in a while. Instantly I didn’t trust him. “Not really. Seems so far you’ve done a good enough job. I thought I’d ride with you out to the Tarbell house.”
“The hell you say! How’d you find out about that!” Chief Herring snapped.
I shook my head and turned to face the Captain. “He obviously bugged your car somehow. I was under the impression your group wasn’t supposed to actively work inside the United States.”
“The Magical Act of 1959 changed that. We are allowed to actively recruit wherever and whenever we see fit. Human Mages are as rare as hen’s teeth around here. I have a lot to offer. Are we working together or not? We are on the same team, gentlemen,” Captain Right stated.
So back into the car we went, only this time we had a backseat passenger.
“We could have taken my car, you know. These bars back here are a bit unnerving,” the Captain remarked.
Chief Herring snorted and let out a chuckle. “Son, you are not the first to say that. Watch where you slide around. Night shift used this car for drunk duty and they have a tendency to leak a bit back there.”
The Captain looked down at the floorboards and started to bend and twist.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. This Illinois cop was pretty funny.
The Tarbells lived on a nice quiet street with well-kept houses. In some ways it resembled the set of that TV show I’d watched as a kid. Otter something. I can remember wanting to Mr. Wilson to be my next-door neighbor. As we pulled up, I read the street name on the sign. It matched up perfectly to several of the early reports of flying trash cans and other disturbances. Maybe we should have looked here first.
The Chief got out of the car and said, “Let me do all the talking here. This guy hates the establishment, and his kid might not be any better.”
We both watched the police chief walk up to the door. I glanced at Captain Right. “You going to listen?”
“No. How about you?” He replied.
I shook my head and got out of the car. Chuckling, I watched as the other guy struggled with his door. “Funny thing about police cars. The doors don’t really open from the inside back there. Nobody likes catching someone twice.”
“You need to let me out, Agent Dalton. Trust me when I say that I need to be out there with you,” Captain Right replied.
“I don’t think so. This is my case. The FBI can use this kid just as much as the army can. Director Hoover directed me to see it through, and I intend to do just that,” I stated as I walked toward the house.
Captain Right muttered something to himself that sounded a bit like “stupid psychics” but I ignored him. I could see that Chief Herring wasn’t having much luck just by watching what was going on at the front door. A small man was waving his hands in the air and pointing. I heard a noise that could’ve been glass breaking and I looked up. There, climbing out the window and onto a tree branch, was a young man i
n a striped shirt and jeans.
“Hey kid!” I shouted out. As the words left my mouth I realized my mistake and paid for it.
Quickly forming a fireball in one hand, the teen tossed it at me and jumped toward the ground! “You’re not taking me!”
Fast on my feet, I dodged the poorly thrown ball of flame and chased after the kid. He’d hit the ground running, almost an impossibility for a non-magic person. As I ran, I could hear Herring and the older Tarbell yelling at each other about the burning yard.
Like a jackrabbit the boy jumped the fence into his backyard. To do my job I needed to be athletic, so I followed him at a slightly slower pace. Climbing instead of jumping.
Eugene waved his hands and tossed an entire set of heavy patio furniture and a grill at me. He was panicked, and his aim wasn’t the best. I dodged what I was able. “I just want to talk to you, Eugene. No jail cell. I promise that you will be able to go free afterwards.”
“I don’t believe you!” Eugene readied another fireball, this one even bigger than the previous one.
Looking around I could see the pile of furniture in front of me, the fence behind, and a small inground swimming pool. I was trying to judge the distance to the pool when the explosion knocked me off my feet and into the fence.
There was a bright flash and all I could see was bright light. My ears were ringing like the bells on Sunday.
I wasn’t dead, and the backyard wasn’t on fire. Looking toward where Eugene had been standing I could see Captain Right. He was checking the boy’s pulse. “I got tired of waiting in the car.”
Picking my way around the wreckage strewn yard, I approached the scene. “What happened?”
“He’s out. You ok?” Right asked.
“I’m fine. What was that explosion?” I asked.
“Stun grenade. Special formula. I’d brought one along just in case. Good thing I did, too. You were just about to become a crispy critter,” the Captain remarked with a smile.
“A grenade? You seriously had a live grenade on you in the car with us?” I asked.
“Not my first ballgame, Agent. The kid is fine. It all worked out,” Right replied.
By this time, the overexcited parent and Chief Herring had run through the house and were in the picture.
“Is Eugene all right? What happened?” Herring shouted at me.
“He’s out cold. The kid was tossing fireballs and one misfired,” I said with a shrug. The boy’s father was hunched over his son, calling his name and checking him over for injuries. I’m not sure why I covered for Captain Right. His use of military hardware against a civilian was almost criminal, but it was like the pot calling the kettle black. I had a whole van full of weapons. Some of them were originally military as well.
We all stood by as Eugene was revived by his father Milton. As a forethought, I had a small bucket of water from the swimming pool standing by. And a good thing too. Just as soon as the kid’s eyes opened, a fireball formed in hand.
Splash.
Down went the bucket and the now the kid’s hand was soaked. So was Mr. Tarbell.
“What’d you do that for?” The adult Tarbell exclaimed.
“Eugene had a fireball in his hand. You have to face facts here, Mr. Tarbell. Your son’s a Mage,” Chief Herring replied for me.
“Dad… They’re telling the truth,” Eugene spoke up from the ground.
“Son, you need to lie still until we get a doctor for you. Who knows what these men have done to you?” Tarbell replied.
The kid shook his head. “No. I attacked them. I didn’t want to go to prison.”
Milton Tarbell looked down at his son in shock. “Why would you go to prison?”
Looking up, he glared at the three of us. “Why would you put my son in prison?”
“I’m here to offer him a job, not sure what they want,” Captain Right replied, catching us off guard.
Chief Herring glared at the army officer but still answered. “Milton, we just wanted the activity he was causing to stop. Half the town was getting antsy about it all. Hell, there were rumors that Abe Lincoln was haunting the place. We just came to talk.”
“I don’t understand this. Why did you run then? What crime did you think you’d committed that was so bad?” Milton Tarbell asked his son.
“It was you, Dad. You told me to do it,” Eugene replied.
“Me? I never said such a thing. I taught you to respect the law, not to attack it!” Milton exclaimed.
“But what about the things you’ve said at dinner and all those articles you’ve written? You told me that Paranormals should be locked up and that people with Magic powers were a menace. I just listened to you. When I realized that I was the one causing things to move, I was scared. I was afraid you would make me leave or something. Miss Barnes down by the lake gave me some advice and a bit of training. I was gonna tell you but not until I could control it a bit. The night of the game, I ran into Clarence and his gang. They tried to take all my money and I got excited. Everyone was saying it was the ghost of Abe Lincoln, so I just went along,” Eugene explained.
“Clarence Rutherford? That boy is a menace,” Milton stated.
“That boy, as you call him, is the star quarterback of the Senators. I’ll have a chat with him. Can’t have bullies running the school, now can we?” Herring asked rhetorically.
I glanced at the chief. Football was a big deal in the Midwest. I seriously doubted that they would reprimand or arrest the athlete. But day-to-day laws and practices weren’t my concern. Unless it involved Paranormals.
“Eugene, I’ll overlook you running and then attacking us if you at least speak to the men here with me. This is Agent Dalton of the FBI and Captain Right from the US Army,” Herring said as he waved his hands in our direction.
I hadn’t forgotten Caroline Barnes’ comment about the military, and wasn’t all that surprised by the gleam in Eugene’s eyes at the mention of the army. “I really only wanted to discuss your future,” I said. “The FBI and the Magical Division, which I represent, are always looking for potential Agents. Now that we understand that the happenings around town were caused by you, I can report to Washington that there aren’t any ghosts.”
“I should’ve come forward, but I was scared. Sorry,” Eugene apologized.
“Don’t go FBI, Eugene,” Captain Right said. “Join the army. We need people just like you to fight the threats that no one ever sees. It was human Mages, not Paranormals, that really won the Demon War. We have trainers and an entire program already in place. You’re what, fifteen or sixteen?” Captain Right asked.
Eugene looked at his dad who nodded. “Sixteen. My birthday is in a couple of months.”
“Easy. We have your dad here sign a statement releasing you to us and we can start your training in a week. By this time next year, you’ll be a private in Uncle Sam’s army. Does that interest you at all?” Right asked.
“Dad, can I?” Eugene asked.
Morton Tarbell looked around at his scorched backyard and nodded. “Let’s take the Captain inside and discuss it. Come on.”
Captain Right all but smirked and even tipped his hat as he followed the two into the house.
“We do the work and he gets the boy. Not my day,” I remarked to myself.
“I wouldn’t say that, son. You did a bang-up job investigating, and you stopped the occurrences in town. Recruiting is harder than it looks. Let me tell you about finding officers sometime. Look on the bright side, you didn’t have to kill anyone this time,” Herring said.
The chief had a good point. I wasn’t sure how I would explain losing the kid, but the recruitment thing was wishful thinking on my part. Even Anastasia had said I was on my own. Still, having a Magic user on my side would make all the difference. Maybe one day. It was time to go back to the station, borrow a phone, and call it in. Another day, another monster.
Captain Right watched as the two members of the Tarbell family hashed out the plan he’d given them. Planting those bugs
at the local station and on the FBI had been an inspiring idea from Mr. Left. Eugene was a rare prize. Arcane was going to need talents like his in the next couple of decades.
He’d watched Agent Jack Dalton very closely during the chase. If he’d pegged to the name ‘right’ he was a better actor than anyone gave him credit. The Arcane program was blacker than black, set inside America’s military. It was based on magical humans defending regular humans. The Paranormals could take care of themselves. But Jack would still need to be watched. There were a couple of new lookalike girls that might be able to do the job. He’d have to check when he got back to base.
Jack Dalton, Monster Hunter
Book 7
1897 Exhibition
1897 Exhibition
My name is Jack Dalton and I’m a Monster Hunter.
Once again, I find myself driving down the backroads of America. I keep hearing stories about the new interstates they plan to build, but the only one I’ve seen so far is in Missouri. Nothing like that down here in Tennessee. After dealing with actual sea monsters and rogue Witches, I’m hoping for less of a challenge in Nashville.
Nashville, Tennessee is an interesting place. It was founded by Overmountain men in the late 1700’s. They were called that because they usually lived west of or over the Appalachian mountains. I knew that Davy Crockett was an Overmountain man, but not that his father was one too. The entire area was the frontier until the early 1800’s. More settlers brought industry, commerce, and government. What became Tennessee was right in the forefront of all that. Now, Nashville is a huge city and because of that people can get really lost in it. Normally that isn’t my problem, except when it happens on government property.
“Jack, I’ve got a new mission for you,” Anastasia explained over the phone.
