It didn’t help that she now found herself more stressed than at any point in her career. The revelation that Eric Weisman had been working as an informant for the Cosa Nosferatu came as a severe blow to everyone at the station, and as a direct result morale had plummeted to an all-time low. Weismann had always been well liked. Many no doubt felt betrayed, deeply hurt by the news. The effect was far more debilitating, more painful, than if he had fallen in the line of duty. The worst part, though, came with the suspicion, the unease that had spread like an infectious disease. You could see it in the eyes of her men and women. No one felt safe. Nobody knew who they could trust anymore.
Speaking of trust, Lee felt a twinge of guilt over having to fool her officers over this Necrosia business. Not a soul but her knew that they had been removed from the cells below. It felt like lying to her own men as she brought food into the basement, left to rot or be eaten by rats, just to maintain the illusion. And having two officers constantly guarding the door leading to the cells below, on rotating shifts, was a gross waste of resources. Hammett had been right to make her go to such lengths, she freely admitted, but that didn’t make her like it any more.
“I can’t do any more of this tonight,” Lee said aloud to herself, tossing her pen onto the desk. She shot a scornful glance at the large pile of papers stacked in her “in” basket, then got up, collected a few personal belongings and turned off the light to her office.
She always hated being stuck at the station during this shift, back when she was starting her career. Most on-duty officers were out on the street this time of night, patrolling and trying to keep the peace. Only a skeleton crew actually remained in the station, and the long, lonely hours seemed to drag on for an eternity. She decided to stop by the two guards stationed to “protect” Necrosia, Newell and Crone, and say hello before heading home. Such a gesture couldn’t hurt morale any, to be sure, and it might also ease her conscience a bit as well.
Lee halted abruptly. Neither officer stood at his post at the end of the hall. “Newell? Crone?” No answer, just the annoying buzz of electric lights along the ceiling. She surveyed the hall. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Where the hell had they gotten off to? “Newell? Crone?” Cautiously she tip-toed forward, making as little noise as possible. The door leading to the cell below remained tightly shut. No signs of tampering could be seen on the doorknob, and Lee was absolutely confident that no one but her possessed the key. Those two clowns would be raked over the coals for this. What the hell were they thinking, leaving their post? She knew it’d be a waste of effort, but to satisfy her mind Lee reached forward and twisted the doorknob. The door swung open silently several inches, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Instinctively she withdrew her sidearm, and using the tip of her shoe, pushed the door open wide. A great blackness greeted her, along with a deafening silence. Weapon held forward she edged into the doorframe, and with her free hand flipped the light switch. The blackness remained. Lee’s pulse quickened. Perspiration began to trickle downward. For a moment she waited, listening, contemplating. Then, ever so slowly, she reached into the blackness, grabbed the doorknob, silently stepped back into the hall and quietly shut the door.
For several seconds the woman stood there, sidearm directed at the door, half expecting it to burst open any moment. Then, with a start, Lee turned around and ran down the hall as fast as her legs would take her, past her office, and through a right turn down another hall.
“Grab your weapons and a light! Now!” Lee burst into a small office like a raging bull. Three startled officers jumped in their seats, one of whom spilled her coffee onto the paperwork she had been working on.
“Sir?”
“Now!” Lee commanded with a voice so urgent, so commanding, that all three officers instantly jumped to their feet. As a young man opened a locker and began to pull out flashlights, flicking them on and off to make sure they still worked, Lee pulled a radio-like device from off his hip and held it to her mouth. “Grendel! This is Lee. No questions, just do exactly as I say. Take Meryl with you and begin sweeping the station room by room. Have your sidearm in hand and do not separate. And bring a flare … you may need it.”
“Copy.”
“Follow me.” Lee made eye contact with each of the young officers in the room with her, all scared out of their minds, and did her best to present a confident, authoritative demeanor.
The hallway looked just the same as it did minutes earlier, but Lee insisted on scrutinizing it once more before proceeding toward the door. “Check those two offices,” she whispered, with a nod to her right. “If they’re empty lock the door from the inside and fall in line.” As the offices were checked, Lee kept her eyes fixed on the door leading below, weapon at the ready. Once her orders had been completed, Lee stepped forward, and opened the door again. Nothing there but the same impenetrable blackness as before. “Flare,” she commanded in a low voice, palm held out. Lee tossed the sputtering cylinder into the darkness. It bounded off a wall, and then clanked down the stairs all the way to the floor. They waited, listening to the hiss and crackle of the flare. Nothing. “Watch the ceiling. Watch the shadows. And stick close to me.”
One excruciating step at a time they descended, the beams of their lights darting about from floor to ceiling. Once the four reached the bottom of the stairs they halted, scanning every corner of the room with their lights. A red glow throbbed, rising up and down the walls as the flare continued to burn.
“Oh no,” one of the men said with a gasp. “The prisoners are gone!” His nervously shaking light darted about the cell where Serene and her employees should have been.
Lee ignored the young man, her face overwhelmed with concern. She stepped forward several paces, squinting into a far corner. “Natasha, come with me. Shine your light over there.”
“Oh god!” gasped one, while another began to gag.
The bodies of Newell and Crone were piled on top of each other, their forms twisted and broken. Upon the wall, written in their own blood, were the words, “I WILL FIND HER”.
Chapter 12- The Voice
Back to Eville. Back to where it all began. Back to that place of terror and anxiety. The very same place his wreck of a life took a full-on swan dive into the crapper. Of all the places in the world, this was the last one Alex imagined going to next, especially given their wanted status. Despite the comfort of the bed, he couldn’t fall asleep, his mind racing as it was. And who was this mysterious contact, anyway? Hammett refused to elaborate, furious that Snotwaddle had let the cat out of the bag too soon, and angrily snubbed all of the many questions hurled at him. However, the Cyclops did say that Eville would be the last place on earth anybody would look for Serene. The plan sounded absolutely insane, and yet the detective’s words somehow made sense. Hammett appeared perfectly confident of his decision and, to be fair, things had been running quite smoothly since he’d taken charge. Whatever the case, Alex felt assured that the inspector’s plan had to be a thousand times better than anything Serene could have cooked up. Still, Alex couldn’t get rid of a lingering sense of anxiety thinking about returning to the scene of Serene’s destruction, the place so many nightmares had become reality.
Hammett allowed everyone a late start the next morning, and following a wonderful brunch outside, led the group back to the garage. Snotwaddle and Hestia came along to bid the guests farewell, and while leaving the comfort and splendor of the mansion was regrettable, even Alex felt ready to hit the road. It only took a short while for Snotwaddle’s unbridled arrogance to grate on the nerves, proving too much for even Alex’s considerable patience. On several occasions during brunch, Alex had to keep a close eye on his boss, wary that she might hurl her fork at the bloated man’s head during one of his many egotistical speeches. Serene had that look, that crazy “I’m-about-to-do-something-horrible-and-insane” thing going on with her eyes, along with the slow, maniacal grinding of her teeth, both tried and true warnings that traumatic things were sure t
o follow. Then again, more than once, Alex himself nearly felt like screaming at the old blowhard to put a sock in it. Unsurprisingly, no tearful goodbyes were to be heard as the group piled back into the van and departed Snotwaddle’s country home, and the absolute quiet that followed almost did more for their well-being than any of the amenities they had enjoyed the day before.
“I don’t suppose we might visit Necrosia manor while we’re in the area?” Serene asked after some miles. “There are a few odds and ends I’d love to gather, assuming they weren’t incinerated in the explosion.”
Hammett pretended not to hear the woman.
“I have this weird feeling … ” Alex began.
“We don’t want to hear anything about your weird feelings, little man. That’s just creepy.”
Alex took a page from the Cyclops and pretended not to hear his hunchback companion. “I feel like all the crap we’ve been through … Scarab in New Brasov, the Cosa Nosferatu, goblin mercenaries … harpies and freaking messed up assassins … all that has become totally pointless. I mean, we’re back to where we started. Back to square one.”
“Pointless?” Serene argued. “Nothing could be farther from the truth, my love. Think of the experiences … the adventures we shared … the bonding between us. Our familial unit has grown stronger than ever. I positively feel a warm glow reflecting on it all.”
“Your memories are cracked, lady,” Alex scoffed. “All I remember is terror and bad smells and … pain.”
“Ah, the three pillars of character growth. But think of all you’ve gained, dearest. Why, you’ve grown so much during our holiday. I dare say you’re twice the man you were when you first stepped into my office. That portentous day … it feels like a veritable age has passed since then, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, it does seem like a very long time since we left.” Alex sat for a moment thoughtfully. “Have you seen how bad it is?” he asked the Cyclops. “The damage in Eville?”
“Vega and I spent very little time in Eville before our departure to New Brasov. But what little I did observe was considerable. I imagine it will take some time before the town returns to its former … charm.”
“No need to darken the mood, dear boy,” Serene chimed in. “The town of Eville has been rebuilt more times than I can recount, I’ll have you know, and shall likely be done again and again throughout future centuries. Why, even within my lifetime, a confused, highly inebriated Norwegian frost dragon went rampaging through the town square. Practically leveled the whole shebang.”
“A dragon?” Alex’s interest was considerable. “So they actually exist?”
“Indeed they do, dear boy, and this particular specimen was an exceptionally ill-tempered brute at that. You see, the beast happened upon the Sinner’s Muse distillery, of all places—which ended up being the only genuine tragedy of the affair. Took the proprietors nearly a year to get things running again, and it wasn’t until several years later that their product could hold a candle to the old stuff. Sure, you could drink it … but, well …anyway, after sufficiently marking his new territory and gorging himself thoroughly, the brute passed out on town hall. A pity he didn’t have the decency to collapse onto the section containing tax records. Oh, and the looks on the faces of the council members. Priceless! I can at this very moment envision them as though it happened but yesterday. Well, you can’t imagine what a task it was to haul the dragon away before it regained consciousness. I dare say a dragon suffering from a prodigious hangover is not to be trifled with. Can you imagine? And even after the creature had been relocated, the town reeked of scorched goblin and dragon vomit for months.” Serene giggled merrily, and cupped her chin in her palms like a delighted little girl. “Oh, how I’ve missed Eville.”
“You know, that sounds an awful lot like … Necrosia work.” Alex laughed.
“Tell me about it.” Moody nodded.
“My dearest Alex, you and your wild imagination. You speak as though we Necrosias were bumbling imbeciles unleashing calamities left and right.”
“For the sake of keeping the peace, I’m just going to shut my mouth right now,” Alex replied with a chuckle.
“I read the reports on this incident en route to Eville,” Hammett broke in. “I found it noteworthy that while the destruction and cleanup efforts are well documented, no record is available … anywhere … on precisely how the illegal creature happened to arrive there in the first place. Strange, is it not?”
“Ah … this world of ours … so full of mysteries. So much left untold, unexplained, left to tantalize our minds for generations to come.” Serene waved her hand back and forth as if casting a magic spell. “Truly, the event remains one of the great enigmas of Eville’s notable history. And what a bore life would be without a few enigmas to entice our imaginations.”
“Coincidentally,” Hammett continued, “I found it exceptionally interesting that you had returned from a “scientific expedition” to Norway but two weeks prior to this incident. Ironically, an expedition funded through the Eville Council for Science and Invention, no less. What do you have to say about that?”
“Never has it been proven how the beast came to our town. Furthermore, any allusions to Necrosia involvement are nothing more than conjecture, and I do not care in the least for your slanderous insinuations.”
“Is that so?” Hammett asked.
“It is indeed, inspector. I also wish to remind you that these events are long past the statute of limitations, and any further investigation into the incident could never be upheld in the UEL courts.”
“Now those are the words of an innocent woman if I ever heard one,” Moody said.
The Cyclops shook his head knowingly, gazing directly into the inventor’s eyes, a smirk on his lips.
Several uneventful hours later the van slowed. Vega began to turn here and there, winding through what had to be a town. The farther they went, the worse the road became, causing the vehicle to shake and rattle, and occasionally dip into potholes. If they had arrived in Eville, the destruction inflicted upon the quaint town was so great that even the paved streets had been torn apart. It became noisier, too. Hammers beating down, saws buzzing, the grind and pop of machinery enveloped the van, mixed with the sounds of many voices. It appeared that the indomitable townsfolk were acting just as Serene had predicted, jumping head first into Eville’s recovery. Gradually these noises receded, barely audible in the distance, and the van came to a stop. Vega cut the engine, walked around to the rear of the van, and tapped on the door in an odd pattern.
“You three shall remain here, as silent as the grave, until I return.” Hammett shot each of them a fierce look, his eye lingering longer on Serene. “As silent as the grave. Not to worry,” he added, after noticing Alex’s expression, “I won’t be gone for long, and Vega will remain outside the vehicle to keep watch.”
The Cyclops opened the door quickly and hopped out, slamming it behind him before anyone could get a good look outside. As the inspector’s heavy footsteps crunched leaves, Serene turned to her employees and mouthed “as silent and the grave,” eyes bulging like a bullfrog, and shaking her hands in mock terror. Moody snorted, which led to Alex elbowing her in irritation. The hunchback, in turn, shot him a swift jab in the arm, and being the manly sort that he was, Alex squeaked in surprise and pain.
“Shhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Serene held her index finger to her pale lips, scolding the ignorant children before her, whilst donning an authoritative demeanor.
Moody snorted again, louder this time, and mouthed “bite me” to her boss.
Fortunately, Hammett returned before the fugitives got out of control. “No questions. No dawdling. Follow me.”
As Alex hopped out onto the leaf-covered ground, he got only a glimpse of their surroundings. They were parked in a clearing, surrounded by a forest very much like that near Eville. Perhaps they had traveled to the outskirts of town? Only a few steps away from where Vega parked, there sprawled a large vehicle, bloated like a beached mechanica
l whale. It seemed like an Eville version of a bus, or maybe closer to an RV, yet larger than any Alex had seen back on the “other side.” Several dozen large wheels lined the undercarriage, and judging from the darkened windows distributed along the sides, this sucker comprised two floors within. Hammett stood next to an opened door on the mechanical behemoth, and roughly grabbed the fugitives one by one and shoved them inside. All of this flashed by in but a few seconds, and in the blink of an eye Hammett had entered and shut the door behind him. Outside, Vega started up the van, and drove off.
They now stood in some manner of mobile palace, but unlike the beauty and class of Snotwaddle’s home, here they were assaulted with gaudy décor, garish colors and, in general, a total lack of taste. Half of the surfaces shimmered, while the other half were content to merely gouge your eyes with overwhelming hues. All of the seating, of which there was an abundance, had been upholstered in various furs, most of them dyed to unnatural colors. Glittering, spinning chandeliers dangled above, and shaggy, avocado-green carpet swallowed their feet whole.
“Where the hell have you taken us?” Moody asked, sneering at a crudely designed statue appearing to consist of quivering, orange gelatin.
“Some might call this hell,” Hammett answered, his giant brown eye scanning the atrocity in disbelief.
“Is this Snotwaddle’s?” Alex asked.
“No. It … belongs to a … friend of the UEL.”
“And I can already tell you that this “friend” is going to be ass-loads of help,” Moody added with a snort.
The Eville Protection Plan Page 6
