Dylan was hitting the flashlight with all the strength he could muster as the smell was also starting to consume his own senses. The beam flared to life and then went out. It came back on and then just as quickly died. He gave it another good whack, and then the light illuminated briefly just as the door at the top of the basement stairs burst open and then flew off its hinges. They all turned and looked up into the blackness as their hearts leaped from their chests. As the light moved upward toward the door, they saw something standing there as if it were looking down upon them.
The blackness at the top of the stairs didn’t move. Dylan backed away from the staircase, and then his legs gave out as all thoughts and dreams of money escaped him. As he fell, he moved the beam of light up and then his eyes widened as he caught the darkness start to move down the stairs. They heard the crying as it became louder and fiercer. Then the crying went from sorrowful to one of screaming anger. The change had come when whatever was at the top of the stairs made its presence known. Then the darkness started down, cracking the old wood as it moved.
The darkness stepped from the last stair riser. Dylan felt the water rise and then settle as something heavy added its weight to the sea of debris and filth floating in the basement. He backed away on his palms and heels. The light never left the darkness stepping from the now-broken stairs. Dylan started to shake as the darkness moved toward him. Again, he tried to move away, splashing as he did. Between the darkness walking toward him and the screaming anger seemingly soaking through solid steel, Dylan heard his two friends making a run for the stairs.
The darkness stopped and turned away from Dylan and faced the new sound. The water splashed. It was like something was walking through a large puddle. The water exploded outward as it shot for the stairs. The screaming inside the vault’s interior went from unrecognizable to actual words as whatever was inside was encouraging the blackness to stop Dylan’s two friends from escaping. Dylan heard the girl scream and the boy shout above him. Then he felt the impact as the girl was thrown from the staircase to the floor below. She hit with a loud splash of water and then the sounds of breaking of bones as her frightening scream was cut off like a shorted-out audio. Her broken and shattered tattooed arm slowly sank beneath the foot-deep water as the voice inside the vault became one of joy and satisfaction. As Dylan stood and started to turn, the light caught his friend in crime as he was lifted from the stairs and thrown across the basement to impact the cabinets where their riches had been stored. His body bent and broke as it struck so hard that his skin was pushed into the seams and vent openings on the old locker. His body popped free and joined his girlfriend in the waters of the basement.
The dark mass moved at lightning speed toward the remaining intruder and embraced him. The last thing Dylan could hear above the animallike derangement was his own spine being crushed by the enormous hand that stole the life from him.
The darkness roared with fury and anger, and then the basement became a blacker hole than it was before.
The joy from inside the vault settled to a cursory crying once more as if in remorse for the lives taken. Then the insanity started again as the last words broke free of the steel-reinforced vault.
“Find him!”
The blackness roared in delight as it was finally set free after half a century of being trapped like a wild animal. The darkness reached out and gently caressed the vault’s door. The ice that accumulated from the touch flaked away as the dark hand moved lovingly over the surface. Once more, the anger subsided from inside, and the crying resumed, except for one last command repeated through the sobs of loneliness and terror.
“Find him and bring him home.”
The blackness left Moreno and shot into the sky and smelled the day’s cooling air. It turned and then vanished like a wisp of dark cloud to the east.
WASHINGTON, D.C.
He was known as the most ruthless person in the world—and this was still a planet inhabited by men like Vladimir Putin, Assad of Syria, and Kim Jong-un in North Korea. Per many news sources around the globe, these men were considered tame compared to the man who was giving up his power under extraordinary circumstances. The ruthless way in which he treated adversaries and friends alike had finally come full circle. He had abused the power of his office, and now the American electorate had concluded that the man had to go. So, in five days’ time, the president of the United States was going to resign his office for health reasons halfway through his second term. The president wasn’t a well-liked man.
The First Lady of the United States was thirty-five years younger than her husband. Dean Samuel Hadley would soon return to his billionaire lifestyle and live out the rest of his lonely life with wealth and power, still a lord over thousands if not millions of ordinary people and employees. The First Lady wanted to be sure by the time the next week rolled around he would be limited not only in the wealth department but in the power realm of his life as well. She stood in the doorway of the office of the president’s chief of staff, Herbert Avery. He finally looked up as he carefully placed the legal documents into a secure file folder. He looked startled.
“It would be nice if you announced yourself. That would be the polite thing to do,” he said as he stood and gestured for her to come in.
She stood momentarily in the doorway with her arms crossed over her ample chest—a chest she had to cover for six years because of her station as First Lady of the country.
“You should keep your door closed when you have that stuff out.” The First Lady finally stepped into the office but was sure not to close the door behind her. Propriety still held sway over her actions. Right now, she was depicted as the wife of the insane man in the Oval Office, and that was where she wanted her persona to stay for the time being.
The chief of staff placed the file folder in his desk and then locked it. He smiled as she came in but noticed she did not sit.
“That ‘stuff,’ as you put it, is so complicated that even if someone saw them and studied them for a month, they wouldn’t understand them. As far as anyone is concerned, they are nothing but financial statements from the president’s holdings that will revert to his care after he leaves office, that’s all,” he said as he jauntily tossed his set of keys in the air and then pocketed them with a wink toward the stunning woman before him. “As far as his many faults as a husband and his proclivity toward extramarital affairs and proof of him having as many secretive women in his life as he does, well, that information is kept far from here, I assure you. I take it your meeting at the fund-raiser went well? I hope your skullduggery works.” Avery looked the First Lady over and then smiled. “Nice outfit, by the way.”
Catherine Emery Hadley ignored the compliment on her chosen attire. “So, after next week, we can move right in if your evidence of his adulterous leanings has been threatened? This new stuff that was uncovered by your friend in Virginia should strike a raw nerve, unhinging him even further. Then, when proof of adultery, attached to very strange behavior, is apparent to the courts, he will lose everything. The stockholders of his companies wish to end their relationship with him now at any rate.”
“If you can get the president to voluntarily see things your way.”
Catherine laughed as she moved toward the door. “When confronted with evidence of this last betrayal of the American people and his adoring, caring wife, his signing won’t be a problem. If I must expose old family skeletons to do so, I am ready for the bones to fall from the closet. Any judge in this country is as fed up with him as I am. Our divorce will work out the way I have planned from the beginning. His infidelity, his tenure as president, and with the saddened and brokenhearted wife, the bastard deserves what he gets.” Catherine looked Avery over and decided to ask even though it was upon her orders that the name and subject never be spoken aloud, especially inside the White House. “Did you place the pictures and the glasses where he will run across them?”
“Yes. I put some on his desk and another three in daily correspo
ndence. The glasses are in plain sight under some files on his desk. I don’t know what you plan to gain by dredging up childhood memories inside that head of his. I just don’t see the point.”
“You’re not involved to ‘see’ the point, Herb. The things I had you plant where he could find them were done to assist the bastard in his legitimate jump toward insanity. If that file gets exposed by some gung-ho reporter, they’ll see that insanity runs in the family. He is as insane as his old man was.”
Avery smiled as he watched the mechanics of her devious mind playing across those beautiful eyes.
“Who is she?” Avery smiled as he asked the million-, or was it fifty-billion-, dollar question. “She the one from his childhood that got away?”
“Yes, Herb, she’s the one woman my husband couldn’t coax into bed.”
“Must have been a while back, because those are the only pictures available of her. Black and white, ponytails, and bobby socks.”
“You’re thinking too much, Herbert. You need to stop that.”
Avery looked up curiously as he watched her back. “Has he lost all interest in life? I just thought it was being president he was tired of. The way he’s acting, it’s like he just doesn’t care about anything other than being the biggest prick in the free world.”
“Give him a liquor bottle and women, and he’ll live out the rest of his life alone and happy, just the way he wants. But if he has other ideas, the things you placed where he can accidentally find them will send him off in another direction in life, and that’s into a mental hospital, where he truly belongs. All I have to do is show him what his precious daddy did in the war.”
“Unbelievable. One of the richest men, not to mention the most powerful leader in the world, and he just wants to drop off the face of the earth. Amazing. It’s almost as if he wanted everyone to hate him as much as he despised himself.”
Catherine’s eyes moved to an eight-by-ten glossy photograph of the president taken many years before, when he was only twenty years old. The bare-chested man staring at her from the photo wore nothing but a protective flak jacket and had a green beret tilted jauntily on his head. Of course, a smile was absent as they always were in pictures of his past. The framed picture was signed to Avery by her husband, and the sham way Avery had it displayed made the First Lady shiver. “By the way, when we leave here, I never want to see that thing again.” She paused at the doorway and waited for Avery to respond.
Catherine was gently pulled back into the office, and Avery reached out and closed the door.
“I keep that here to remind myself of who it is I work for.” He leaned farther toward her.
She laughed in his face as she turned to open the door. “His father has been dead since 1972. He’s a prick because he chooses to be a prick,” she said as she partially opened the door but was shocked when the door was closed from behind and hands gripped her shoulders. Avery didn’t see the smile that raised the corners of her red lips.
The attempted kiss was sudden. Catherine placed her hands on his chest and gently pushed Avery.
“Not until this thing is completed. That’s all I need is for another rumor to cloud the minds of those I need on my side when the time comes.” She smiled for a moment. “Your richly deserved reward will come soon enough.” She turned away and then stopped. His smile slowly came back until Avery realized this was nothing more than business and not a romantic pause. “Just make sure the deposition on his mental health is ready for all six boardrooms to see and sign.” She opened the door but paused in the hallway. “And take down the goddamn picture; I never want to see that again.”
Avery angrily shut his door.
* * *
The president stood behind his desk and watched the activity outside as protesters lined the street. They carried banners and placards stating that it was time for a change in Washington. His left brow rose, and he smiled as he was most assuredly in their corner. All interest in most things had waned in his life. He had billions waiting for him once he left office. He had a young wife who was currently trying to steal everything from him. At seventy-two years of age, he was ready to call it quits on his personal life. Money didn’t solve his nightmares and could not heal a past that was unsalvageable. Power was the same. None of it mattered, and he didn’t know why. For the past two years, he had been feeling this way. He knew he had treated people badly for the better part of his life, and again he didn’t know why. He had a mean streak in him, and there was no way to live with what his young wife called “the real people.”
He turned away when several members of his staff came in through the door of the Oval Office. The vice president was with them. He frowned when he saw Catherine was the last to enter. He nodded, and the Secret Service agent closed the door as they settled into the two opposite-facing couches. He noticed the First Lady remained standing. He smiled as he moved to the front of the desk. As he sat on its edge, his hand struck a pile of opened correspondence, and the letters scattered across the desk. Catherine watched as the president stacked them back into a pile. His fingers hit on one of the envelopes, and he picked it up as all in the office waited for him to speak. He pulled out an old Polaroid picture. He raised the envelope and saw that it was addressed to the White House with his name on it but no postmark. He pulled out the old shot and saw the black-and-white image. It was her, and his face could not hide the anxiety the faded Polaroid picture instantly instilled. He swallowed, as this was the fifth time in as many days the picture or her name had appeared as if by magic. He looked for Avery, but Avery had not arrived for the meeting just yet. Herbert had to know, since it was he who was the last to see the day’s mail before he placed it on his desk. He placed the photo back into the white envelope.
It was the vice president who cleared his throat to get Hadley’s attention. The president looked up like he was awakening from a bad dream. He blinked and then smiled briefly.
“You dropped something, Mr. President,” the thin man said and then stood from the couch and retrieved the item that had fallen to the floor. He stood and then handed the president the item. “Now those are dark sunglasses,” the vice president said as he smiled and then sat back down.
The glasses were of tortoiseshell frames and were plain looking, except for the dark green lenses. He held them in his hands, and he felt his heart race. He rubbed his thumb over the cracked lenses. The hardened frames were damaged and had partially melted around the earpieces. He started to raise the dark glasses to see them better when he realized his guests were waiting. He swallowed and then placed the glasses on top of the photo.
“Sorry.” He smiled but immediately lost it. His mind was racing in varying directions at one time. “Well, Jimmy, you ready to take over the reins?” he asked the vice president as his gray eyes kept flashing down to the desktop and the items there.
The nation’s vice president, James Harwell, sat motionless as the president smiled down upon him from on high, a position of strength he knew the man loved for its effect on visitors.
“Yes, I believe I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” he said as the other members of the closed circle of advisors didn’t make eye contact with him. “But somehow I still think this is some cruel joke you’re dealing me here.”
“Ah, just because you wanted this job many years before me doesn’t mean you would let me down. Our history says we’ll never be close. Hell, we may never even speak after next week. Just be ready to fulfill the office. I honestly think it’ll be in better hands with you than anyone.” He smiled. “The country will agree with you. It’s either this or be impeached. When all these so-called rumors are substantiated, believe me, you’ll want distance between you and me, and this is the only way to get that distance.”
“I don’t know what to say,” the vice president said as he turned his attention back to the silver-haired man behind the desk. “You’ve never even smiled at me before while you were in office. Now you just quit and give it all away. Excuse me, but I’m just as
tounded.”
The president smiled as he looked the group over. His dark eyes settled on the First Lady. “Just be sure the new First Lady likes doing things other than photo ops and she’ll be admired as most First Ladies usually are.” The smile devolved into a cruel line across his lips. “Some First Ladies, at any rate.” Again, the image of the young girl with a dark pair of sunglasses entered his mind. He grimaced and looked up and saw a hint of a smile on Catherine’s face as she left the Oval Office.
The man, learning on his desk, waited for the door to be closed and looked at the others. His smile and friendliness was gone. The door was once again opened by one of his protection team, and Chief of Staff Avery was escorted inside. Everyone noticed the two Secret Service agents remained this time.
Avery knew immediately that his covert and very-much-behind-the-scenes manipulations had been found out. He swallowed as the president smiled. It was the cat staring at the canary.
“Mr. Avery, it’s time we spoke candidly, and these gentlemen present are to witness your debrief. How exciting and unexpected. It seems you have been doing some digging in areas that have drawn the attention of some very smart people. Things about my finances. I think it’s time you come to the side of the Lord, Herbert.”
Avery felt his knees go weaker than a moment before as the president stood up and moved to the window just as the exterior lighting outside the office flared to life as the sun finally set.
“It has come to my attention that you and the First—”
The confused men in the room watching the man they all secretly despised became even more so when the president stopped speaking in midsentence. He stiffened, and then his eyes fluttered open, then closed, and then opened again.
“Mr. President, are you—”
Before the vice president could finish his own sentence, the lights inside the Oval Office went out. Emergency lighting immediately sprang to life, but they also dimmed and went dark. The two Secret Service men acted quickly by switching on the small flashlights they all carried. The beams illuminated the face of the president, and they moved aggressively as the man started shaking uncontrollably behind his desk. Then the president collapsed.
In the Still of the Night--The Supernaturals II Page 3
