The NightShade Forensic Files: Under Dark Skies (Book 1)

by A. J. Scudiere

  When he set the boy on the ground, the two took off like they had been launched, Elizabeth hauling the boy behind her. Jeremiah was barely able to keep his feet touching the ground. She wanted out. Smart girl.

  Donovan was turning back into the fight when he heard the shot.

  Crystal clear as it cut the air right over his head, the bullet made a clean trajectory. Donovan could only watch, too slow to stop it from hitting the boy.

  48

  Eleri recognized Donovan’s voice when he shouted for her. Though she wanted to run and help, she sent a different agent in her place. She had to stay put. She alone was in charge of this dying fracas.

  The silence was growing, the forest disturbingly quiet as darkness began falling directly on top of her.

  Quickly, before the day was completely gone and she was forced to shine her flashlight in these poor people’s faces, she wanted to be sure she had them all identified and accounted for.

  Behind her an agent was helping a middle-aged woman down the steps from her home. She carried a toddler on one hip and an infant nestled in her other arm. The agent held tight to a third child, a small girl. All four City dwellers were crying, only the agent remained tear-free though clearly not unmoved.

  On high alert, Eleri didn’t want to yell. Not having her numbers yet, she knew there could be more of them out there. The question was: were they running or would they stay and try to pick off the agents as the night crept in around the edges? The daylight had been her friend; now the game would turn in the favor of any remaining City people. They would know the layout; they would know where to hide; they would know where the last of the weapons were stored.

  In a calm voice, Eleri roll-called her agents. One by one, alphabetical by group, they each checked in. Three had cuts. Though Eleri assumed most everyone was pretty much bruised and battered, no one specifically reported that. One was in the tent at Station Y getting medical attention for a bullet wound in his arm. A clean shot through the flesh, it was as good as Eleri could hope for. She could only now pray her luck held. Her nerves fluttered and she started her second roll call.

  Y team was treating the agent, so she spoke to X, “Use the list of names, tell me which City of God members you have there, and then keep track as the others call in. I’ll check back with you for final tally.”

  Eleri wanted to check the list herself, but she had to trust her team members’ competence, even if she hadn’t met some of these people before yesterday.

  Y had three members. Donovan called in that he had Elizabeth and Jeremiah on the way to Y. The boy had a gunshot wound to his lower left leg but it also looked to be clean through.

  Her heart beat a little faster, if that was possible. Who had shot the boy? Surely not one of her agents. Scanning the area for trouble, stray shooters, or rogue, trigger-happy agents, she saw nothing but the calm collective she wanted to see. Sending up a silent prayer for the boy, Eleri called to Unit A. They had no one in their custody; they were securing weapons, sweeping houses, backing up the agents who stood ready in the central area, waiting for dusk and possible trouble.

  Unit B reported in, then C—also gathering weapons. One by one the units clocked in, Eleri finding that most were accounted for by her mental tally. Unit D had gathered the dead. They had six and recognized faces on five of them. The sixth they believed was Joseph, but the agent reported, “No confirmed ID. Body took a hit directly to the face.”

  No!

  Just the thought made Eleri shake with fear. She needed a friendly City person! As she searched frantically, in her head she cursed as outwardly she fought to stay calm and finish the roll call. “Y, what’s the final?”

  “All accounted for, except three kids—Hope, Angel, and John—and one adult—Abraham.”

  Shit! The report wasn’t right and she knew it. Frantic now, she turned one way, then another. “You!” She pointed to the teen, face down on the ground, “What was Joseph wearing today?”

  “Fuck you.” He responded, spitting into the dirt. She would have been surprised by his foul language but she was too busy being upset.

  Going now to the woman with the children, she demanded. “What was Joseph wearing today!?”

  Even as it came out of her mouth, she knew she had screwed it up. She was too harsh, approaching too fast, striding toward an already crying woman with crying children on her lap. She’d spoken out of anger and the woman cowered. Eleri knew why, but still she wanted to shake her, yell, scream to the heavens.

  Eleri knew in her bones what had happened. She knew it.

  Practically yelling into the earpiece now, she made her demands. “Station Y, get someone there to tell you what color shirt Joseph wore today. NOW.”

  She heard rumbling in the background as the people there spoke. These were the voluntary surrenders. These were the kids Donovan had talked into going. She didn’t know what he said but she was proud of him.

  It was the face on the dead body that was most disturbing. None of the agents would aim point-blank to the head. Also none of the agents had a shotgun in hand. It was possible one had picked one up, fired into a face, then exchanged the shotgun back for their standard issue rifle, but not at all likely.

  “Blue,” it came through clear. “Joseph wore a blue shirt today.”

  All accounted for except Abraham. A man of similar size and build to Joseph. The man on the ground would be Abraham. DNA tests would not match the dead man as the child of Mark and Lilly Baxter. Eleri spoke loudly into her mic. She wanted the City people sitting nearby to hear her.

  “Abraham is most likely here on the ground. Dead. Joseph shot him in the face, not us. Joseph has run. I repeat, Joseph Hayden Baxter is missing.”

  She looked at the agents who were now staring at her open-mouthed. “Cover these people. Keep them safe.”

  Suddenly she was very afraid that it was the missing Joseph who’d shot the little boy. If that was the case—if Joseph was picking off his own people—then it wasn’t just the agents in danger, it was all of them. The City members weren’t wearing any protective gear, just jeans and T-shirts.

  The teen on the ground craned his neck and looked up at her, hate in his eyes. “Joseph will get you.”

  The agent standing over him knelt down. “We’re just as concerned that he’ll get you.”

  “Joseph won’t hurt us, you bitch.” The words were bitten off, sharp, bitter.

  But Eleri was angry and she couldn’t quite hold it all in. Stomping over to the child she looked down at him and on him. “Bullshit.” If he wanted to swear at them she would swear back at him. “He shot Abraham directly in the face. Joseph killed Abraham so he could escape. He may have shot a ten-year-old boy and he just might kill you, too, because you know about his drug running business.”

  “He’s not running drugs! You assholes!” The kid fought against his restraints, only hurting himself in the process, but Eleri had learned long ago in painful ways that she couldn’t change other people’s choices.

  It was Elam, one of the other men, who yelled out, “Shut up, Aaron!”

  That was what made Aaron’s eyes go round. Quieting, he laid his head down and Eleri could watch his world crumble. But he pulled it together long enough to yell out to his fellow City dweller, “Joseph’s running drugs?”

  It was the last thing he said before his body jerked, forcing a small sound out of his mouth. Eleri knew what had happened even before the blood bloomed into a round stain from the hole in the center of his back.

  DONOVAN HEARD Eleri call for him and Wade through the comm system. Everyone else was told to get to safety.

  From what he heard as he dropped Elizabeth and Jeremiah at Station Y, Joseph was unaccounted for. Shit.

  That sounded just like the JHB he’d come to know. Preach the gospel, sell drugs, and when the time came, sell out the people who were most loyal to you.

  With a brief nod, motioning to Elizabeth that she and Jeremiah were fine now, Donovan turned all his attention to h
is weapon. A quick check told him everything was in working order. He tapped his left hip again, reaffirming that the second weapon was still holstered there, still had a full clip in it, still ready to act as backup.

  He ran toward the central area, sweating as the night crashed around him, his eyes adjusting as he ran. He understood that everyone saw things more in black and white in the dark, but his vision wasn’t fuzzy, it wasn’t unclear. He’d tested himself once, long ago. His dark adapted vision was better than what most people saw in the day.

  What he also understood was that he was a physician: a quiet examiner of human death. For a moment, he almost stopped, almost crashed into an invisible wall of self-doubt. What was he doing out here in the woods, playing GI Joe with real bullets and real sociopaths running around?

  His heart clenched and he wondered if anyone would notice if he just stripped down, changed, and ran away. He could leave a puddle of FBI issued protective gear here in the middle of the forest and disappear. Eleri and Wade would know what had happened, still he should be able to stay gone long enough that even they would stop looking for him. But he didn’t do it. They were counting on him, so he kept pushing forward through the woods, kept pushing himself forward into the unknown force of teamwork.

  The crack of a gunshot cut through the night just as Donovan was clearing the tree line. He could see into the center of the tiny town, see Eleri flinch and jerk. As fast as he could worry, she put her hands up and spoke into the gear. “Too close.”

  De Gottardi was right behind her, looking like Donovan felt—out of place in the gear, itching to chuck it all and go. But he was calmer, seemed to know more about what he was doing, enough to even offer a small nod to Donovan, a nod that acknowledged their shared urge to bolt.

  Eleri, still running the show, suddenly called out, “All units. Bozeman is in charge of the lockdown, get everyone to safety.” And she yanked her ear unit out.

  She was motioning for both of them to do the same when Donovan saw movement across the way. Shadows in several of the rooms in two of the houses. Though the dark was closing in fast on them all, things—people?—were moving in there. But only Joseph and a few kids were missing.

  For a moment he didn’t process it. His hands were brushing at Eleri’s as she moved on him to pull out the earpiece he wasn’t removing fast enough himself. He was shoving her away when he sniffed and realized what it was.

  Grabbing his own headset from her, he nearly yelled into it, despite the fact that she had told them to break contact. “Fire! All units. Fire in at least two of the homes on the east side of the compound.”

  Wade saw it then, too, and he picked up his mic to add information. “All Units. Buildings on the west side as well.”

  There were only nine buildings in the whole area. The drug sheds were farther away, deeper in the woods.

  Donovan didn’t know how he would explain it, but he couldn’t hold back pertinent intel over an excuse he could invent later. “Accelerants in use. Get everyone out. If the accelerant is on weapons or explosives, the town can blow at any moment. Repeat, get all live persons out of the area.”

  49

  Donovan was looking right at Wade. He was shaking, both with the stress of where he was and with the relief of finally having someone in his sphere that he could ask his damn questions of. “Why didn’t I smell the accelerant earlier? Why didn’t you?”

  Eleri was looking back and forth between them. She gave one last note to the task force. “De Gottardi, Heath, Eames going radio silent. Remaining units secure the group, we’re hunting Baxter. Eames out.”

  Making sure all their communication devices were off, she had effectively broken them from the group. “Look, Joseph is running, but it seems he wants to destroy the evidence first. We’re onto him. He’s still here.”

  Donovan looked to her. She didn’t say it, but the NightShade order was in full effect. Joseph Hayden Baxter was effectively attempting to remove both federal agents and City of God residents. Donovan had no qualms right now; Baxter was “shoot to kill.”

  Wade heard her, but he was only partly paying attention. His eyes were on Donovan and his nose was in the wind. “I can catch it, the accelerant is clear now, but if it was in the houses earlier we should have smelled it. So it must have been set within the last few minutes. Still we both should have smelled it before we saw it.”

  Donovan turned, testing. “No winds.” The scent hadn’t traveled away from them.

  Wade shrugged, leaving Donovan with the disconcerting feeling that the man didn’t know any more than he did. “What’s wrong with this place?”

  As the other man spoke, Donovan saw past him, out into the woods, and he saw the figure stalking there.

  He didn’t know Joseph Hayden Baxter well enough to identify him by shape or movement. Jonah’s drawings and old mug shots could only do so much. But it had to be him out there, stalking them.

  The figure tracked carefully, one foot crossing over the other, keeping his head aimed toward them. He was passing in between Station Y and where the three of them stood, so Donovan couldn’t shoot. If it went stray he might hit one of his own people or one of the surrenders in the evac tent.

  The man wore protective gear and kept one shoulder back, making his chest a smaller target, forcing them to hit him from the side if they shot. He carried a high-power rifle pointed their way and wore night vision goggles.

  Forgetting to look like a person with regular sight, Donovan had stared for a moment too long, and Baxter stopped moving, the goggles aimed right at him. A normal person wouldn’t see him out there, stalking in closer and closer, taking aim. So Donovan faked a frown, scanned the area, and whispered to his group. “I see Baxter, he’s out stalking us in the woods. Get down.”

  Baxter was lifting the rifle, sighting one of them and getting ready to pull the trigger just as Eleri and Wade did as Donovan suggested and dropped low. Pulling his flashlight, Donovan shined it toward the gunman.

  A moment later they heard crashing through the woods, moving off to their left. He must have looked directly into Donovan’s light. Given the NVGs, he’d be in a world of hurt right now and wandering without vision until his eyes adjusted back.

  It was Wade who popped up and ran toward the spot where they heard him. It wasn’t what Donovan would have done, but he didn’t have a choice. The other man had easily slid his hand into the shoulder of Donovan’s vest, lifting him until he chose to do exactly as Wade wanted. He wondered if Eleri would keep up. It was clearly Donovan Wade wanted with him.

  The three of them crashed through the brush, up to the point where Donovan had seen Joseph. “What—?”

  Wade leaned in at him, hazel eyes alight with an angry fire Donovan had not suspected. The mild-mannered physicist was not to be fucked with. Donovan was filing that thought away as Wade growled at him. “Get the scent. We can trail him.”

  He quit talking and started inhaling.

  Bending over, checking near the ground, the men sniffed upward, scenting the tang and musk of Joseph Hayden Baxter on the run.

  Eleri must have thought they couldn’t see her amused expression, maybe because she couldn’t see them clearly. Donovan didn’t care. She might think he was nuts, but she wouldn’t think less of him. Besides, Eleri could think what she wanted, he was hunting.

  Wade was rolling his head and starting to prowl, starting to catch what he could and follow it. Donovan was right on his heels, and Eleri, with her short legs and normal human senses, trailed behind.

  He was whispering to the man leading the way. “It isn’t strong enough, this should be easier.”

  “I know. Something’s wrong here. It’s like they’re masking everything. But I can still get it, you?”

  “Yeah, I got him.”

  They tried to stay quiet, and they were probably better than most, but to Donovan’s highly sensitive ears they sounded like elephants crashing through the woods. Still ahead of them, Baxter was reducing his own noises, his sweari
ng stopped. His eyes must be adjusting back, he wasn’t running into trees and tripping over branches as much.

  Eleri created sounds she probably didn’t even know she made, her feet passing softly for a human, but Donovan’s ears picked up plenty. He whispered up to Wade again. “My hearing is fine, yours?”

  “Yeah, just smell. Vision’s good, too.” Donovan told himself he could ponder the genetics later, why he and Wade would share so many exemplary traits, that maybe they were wolf first and human second. But his thoughts halted as they exited the woods, arriving at the backside of another house. One that wasn’t on fire. Donovan was looking forward, scanning the open area, pre-flinching, waiting to be shot, and hoping Eleri was squarely behind him. Her smaller size made him her perfect shield and he prayed she’d take advantage of that.

  Stepping carefully out into the open, unable to see the man they tracked, Wade led Donovan into the grassy area that ringed the City, creating an open buffer behind the houses. The two of them must have looked odd, sniffing at the air the way they did. He wondered if Eleri still had that look on her face, but didn’t turn to see.

  He was frowning before he put the thoughts together. “I can’t follow it.”

  Wade nodded, frustrated and gesturing with his non-gun hand, something Donovan still had to learn. “It disappears right here. What the hell is masking it? I don’t get it.”

  They sniffed around, walking tight circles. Donovan caught sight of Eleri with her gun up, covering their asses. Silently, he thanked her, but out loud he said, “Nothing. It comes here and it stops.”

  “Holy shit.” It was Eleri’s voice. She hadn’t spoken since they crashed into the woods. “I know what it is.” She started shoving at their chests, pushing the two much larger men out of the way as she looked frantically at the ground. “It’s the house, Donovan. The one you marked, this is it.”