Dead Silver

by Max Florschutz

  “Are you sure it wasn’t your friend she didn’t like?” Carlton asked, his expression flat.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head again. “She was completely fine once we left the cave. It was only while she was in there. Once she got out, she was back to normal.”

  “Do you think it might be related?” Sanchez asked.

  “Maybe,” I said, giving them a shrug. “It wouldn’t hurt to keep it in mind, especially if you guys decide to take a look at the cave.”

  “Well, it’s a little outside of our jurisdiction …” Sanchez said.

  “But we might make an exception if we need to,” Carlton finished, exchanging a nod with his partner. “Kind of depends on what your friend says when he wakes up. Thanks for your time.” The pair left almost as abruptly as they’d come, already talking between themselves about some break-in that had happened downtown the night before.

  They didn’t even take down my number, I thought as I stood, stretching my arms upward and almost tapping my staff against the ceiling. I let out a brief yawn as my stretch made the rest of the day’s exertions known to me. I was in better shape than I’d been a year ago, but hauling Rocke’s body out of that cave had been tiring.

  Now that the cops had gone, there wasn’t much keeping me at the hospital. Doctor Morris had agreed to have someone contact me if Rocke awoke before I came by the next morning, and my bed was starting to sound pretty appealing, even if my feet did hang over the edge when I didn’t curl into a fetal position. I said goodnight to the orderly and headed for my Rover.

  Still, there was one last thing I wanted to do before heading home for the night, something I hadn’t had the chance to do before Felix had left the hospital. It took me a minute to orient myself after I pulled away from the hospital, especially in the fading twilight, but after a few wrong turns, I found myself back on the road to the home of Felix Bayou.

  The house was well lit when I drove up, and after a moment of banging on the door, I found myself face-to-face with the man himself. A quick apology and a question later, and I was back in my Rover, rattling down the driveway as I considered what I’d just learned.

  Felix had been more than willing to let me speak with Mercury, and the small border collie had lit up like a rainbow when she’d seen me. I wasn’t that surprising. Most animals—especially dogs—like having someone around that can understand them.

  Her good mood had lasted right up until I’d asked about the cave and why she’d been so afraid. At that question her happy barks had ceased, tail darting down between her legs. Felix had stepped forward, worried, but I’d waved him off. It wasn’t me that Mercury was afraid of. It had been something about the cave.

  I pulled onto the main highway, flickering streetlights passing me on both sides as I headed for the motel. The day’s exertions, both physical and mental, had finally caught up with me, and I could feel a spike of pain growing behind my forehead—a perfect match for the soreness in my muscles. I’d originally planned to come home and use some of the extra energy in my staff to give myself a little boost before sleeping off the rest of my fatigue.

  But after what I’d learned from Mercury, I wanted every spare bit of life force I had at the ready, just in case I needed it.

  “Bad smell,” she’d said, her words a mix of images, thoughts, scents, and feelings that had sent my already stressed mind into overdrive. “Bad smell like the cow.” The senses had been almost alien to me, but they were fresh enough in her mind that I’d been able to get a taste of them. And with that taste was a familiar scent that I recognized. A tangy, acrid smell, like a burning battery, that seemed to fry the very hairs of your nose. A scent just like the one I’d terrified the goats with at the Salas’s the day before.

  The scent of magic.

  Chapter 9

  Despite my fatigue, I found myself awake the next morning an hour earlier than I normally would have woken up. Unfortunately, it was also an hour before I would have had a full night’s sleep. I tossed and turned for a while and even considered turning on the television for a brief moment before finally settling on my back, staring at the bare, square tile above me.

  My mind was a whirling typhoon of mismatched ideas, questions, and thoughts. It seemed like everything I’d encountered since arriving in Silver Dreams had just piled up more questions. Questions I had almost no answers for, and when I did have one, it just led to more questions.

  Who had tied up Rocke, and why? What would anyone here have against him? Had he made someone angry? Who? The sheriff, maybe?

  I threw that thought from my mind almost as soon as it had entered. It wouldn’t be the sheriff. He’d throw Rocke or myself in a cell, sure, and maybe try to keep us there for good. He’d certainly berate us with words, and throw dirty looks our way. But actually break the law? From my conversation with him, it didn’t seem likely.

  Even if he did, it wouldn’t be so extreme as dragging someone out into the desert, beating them, and leaving them to die. From what I’d seen, Sheriff Hanks wasn’t nice, but he wasn’t that bad.

  Besides, Rocke wasn’t a pushover. And Hanks seemed to be more mouth than might. He relied on the law and his badge, if the way he’d grudgingly folded to my question about a warrant was any indication. If push came to shove against Rocke, I’d have bet on Rocke every time. He was even better armed.

  I stared at the blank, white ceiling, the thoughts spinning across my mind completely scattered and seemingly at odds with one another. All I wanted to think about was the chupacabra. Instead, I was wondering who would have had the strength to take on Jacob Rocke.

  Then again, this is all probably pointless, I told myself as I rested my hands behind my head. As soon as Rocke was awake, he’d probably be able to tell us exactly who had tied him up. I doubted whoever had done it had counted on anyone finding him. If not for my arrival in town and Mercury’s nose, I doubted anyone ever would have. Not in time to identify him by anything other than dental records, at least.

  So where did all of this leave me? I squeezed my eyes shut as I let out a yawn. My chest swelled, and I stretched my back, each of the muscles tightening and going loose like shore-lines holding a boat against a changing tide.

  I sighed as I sat up, my legs sliding forward just far enough for my feet to land on the floor.

  So far, my vacation’s off to a flying start, I thought as I glanced at the blinds. The sun was already up or at least rising outside, and the faint gaps in the plastic blinds looked like bright, blinding streaks of white that left sparkling afterimages in my eyes. I rolled my neck across my shoulders, blinking away some of the cobwebs clouding my mind.

  Still, I told myself as I rose from the bed, I’m technically self-employed. My vacation isn’t off to the most relaxed start, but it can be as long as I want. I crossed the room in a few shuffling steps, coming to a stop by the front window. The carpet was thicker here, by design or by chance I wasn’t sure, and I kneaded my toes in it for a moment while staring at the closed blinds.

  That wouldn’t be so bad, I thought as I wrapped my hand around the blinds’ drawstring. I could stay here for an extra few days, unwind. I’ve got the money, and if anything it’ll make my clients even more appreciative of me when I get back. After all, it’s nice and quiet here. I gave the string a short, quick tug, sending the blinds snapping up to the ceiling with a plastic clatter. Light cascaded into the room, sweeping over the window sill and rushing across the carpet, a flood of warmth that spilled across my bare legs. There was a single, shadowed break that I couldn’t quite make out yet. Quiet and—

  My train of thought froze as my eyes adjusted to the light, revealing the cause of the shadowed split I’d noticed. Standing about six or seven feet away, a plastic bag with garbage in one hand and an expression of dumbfounded shock on her face, was Vanessa. We stared at one another for a moment, both of us acutely aware that I was wearing nothing more than a pair of briefs. Then she started to nod, slowly at first, but growing quicker, a grin spreading acros
s her face. She gave me a thumbs-up with her free hand, and I saw her mouth the word “nice” at me.

  I nodded, let go of the string, and walked to the bathroom, fully aware that she was probably watching every step, maybe even bending over or crouching as I moved further back into the room. Part of me was desperate to grab a towel or dart for the bathroom as quickly as I could, but I suppressed the urge. There’s something to be said about keeping your pride.

  * * *

  “No, I’m sorry, he’s not awake,” the nurse said, shaking her head. “Even if he were, visiting hours don’t start until ten.”

  “He’d want to see me immediately, anyway,” I said. “Trust me.”

  “That might be true,” the nurse said, her mouth turning downward, “but we have rules. Doctor Morris left instructions for us to call you when Mr. Rocke wakes up, and we will do that. But beyond that, there’s not much else we can do.”

  Her tone was terse, and for a moment I was tempted to argue simply for the sake of pride, but after a moment’s consideration I just gave her a nod. “All right,” I said, reminding myself that she was just doing her job. “I’ll check back in a few hours.”

  “Thank you.”

  I stepped back from the front desk and considered my options. I’d already grabbed a quick breakfast on the way to the hospital, once again giving some support to the place I’d eaten at on my first day in Silver Dreams. I’d hoped that Rocke would have woken up by the time I’d finished, but no such luck. Though with the nurse’s affirmations that they would be calling me when Rocke finally did come to, I felt a little more assured that they actually would.

  I was turning to leave when the hospital doors slid open, a familiar hiss of air sounding as the cool, climate-controlled comfort of the hospital began to slip out into the open world. That wasn’t what caught my attention, however, nor what brought me to a stop. No, what did that was the sight of the man striding through the doors like a king, shoulders square, shirt immaculately pressed, and a look on his face that said he expected results.

  “Good morning, sheriff,” the nurse said, either ignoring or choosing not to mention the dirty look Hanks gave me as he walked up to the counter. I stepped out of the sheriff’s path and nodded in greeting, but got nothing more than a cold, momentary glare in return.

  “Good morning,” Hanks said as he came to a stop in front of the desk, his tone and volume making it clear that the greeting was nothing more than a habitual response. “I hear you have a man named Jacob Rocke admitted here.”

  I should have known, I thought, trying to keep a neutral expression on my face. I wonder how he found out?

  I glanced around the waiting room as I took a step back, putting a little distance between the sheriff and myself. Unfortunately, the waiting room was empty this early in the morning, completely devoid of human presence save for the nurse, Hanks, and myself. No matter what I did, I was probably going to be part of whatever happened, whether I liked it or not.

  “We do,” the nurse replied, her voice curt and polite.

  “I need to see him immediately,” Hanks said, his tone brokering no argument. “And while I’m speaking with him, I need to you draw up some paperwork for release. After that—”

  “No.”

  “Excuse me?” Hanks asked, his eyes narrowing as he stared down at the woman behind the counter. “What did you say?”

  “I said no,” the nurse replied, her expression still cool. “Jacob Rocke is a recovering patient at this hospital. He requires rest in order to recover, and we’re not going to let you—or anyone else—disturb him. And we certainly won’t release him into your care without a court order to do so.”

  “Do you know who I am, young lady?” Hanks asked, tapping the badge on his chest with one finger as he leaned over the counter.

  “Of course,” she said, her expression so plain and self-controlled that my respect for her immediately went up several notches. “You’re the sheriff of Silver Dreams County. However, that doesn’t allow you to come in here and badger your way into disturbing a recovering patient, nor does it give you any right to demand our release of him into your care.”

  “Young lady, that man you’re keeping back there—” Hanks said, his words coming out almost like a snarl as his finger made a rapid, stabbing point towards the door to the patient wards, “—is an Unusual. He’s a suspect in the disappearance of David Jefferson and—”

  “I don’t care if he’s the man who shot JFK,” the nurse said, a bit of an edge finally coming into her tone. “He’s a patient at this facility, and unless you have a warrant or a court order, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  “I’m going to ask you one more time,” Hanks said, his glower growing more pronounced.

  “No,” the nurse said, rising from her chair and staring him straight in the eyes, her face a mask of carefully controlled composure. I could see a faint tightening around her jawline that said she was close to losing her patience. “As of this moment, I’m asking you to leave. If you don’t, I’ll be forced to summon security.”

  Hanks let out a shallow laugh, although he took a step back from the desk. “You won’t do that. I’m the sheriff. Who do you think they’ll listen to?” His eyes darted towards me for a moment, his expression twisting into a sort of manic, angry pride.

  “Sheriff or not,” the nurse said, her eyes narrowing, “I will have you thrown out. This is a hospital, and we have rules. Either you leave now, or I will summon security. And next time, you’d best have a court order allowing you to do so. If you want to see any of our patients.”

  For a moment, Hanks eyes flicked between the nurse and me, his expression switching from outright rage to cold, raw indignation. I could see his hands tensing and relaxing, half-closing to fists then opening once more. He took a breath, and I braced myself for a verbal explosion.

  But it never came. Hanks’ shoulders slumped, and he shook his head, but then his posture straightened. The smug, commanding look slipped back onto his face.

  “Fine then,” he said, directing his words towards the nurse but looking at me as he said it. “I’ll get a court order. But I’ll remember this. And I’ll remember that when it came down to doing the right thing, you chose to side with someone who isn’t even human.” The last word came out like a curse, spat in my direction. He gave us both one last glower, a withering look that spoke volumes of trouble if he could cause it, then marched out the door, his steps thumping against the thin carpet of the waiting area.

  “Damn,” the nurse said as the doors slid shut behind the retreating sheriff. “What an ass!”

  “Sorry about—” I began, but the nurse waved me off.

  “You don’t need to apologize for anything,” she said, shaking her head. “If anything, I should be apologizing. I go to church with that jackhole. I knew he wasn’t fond of Unusuals, but I had no idea he was such a—”

  “It’s fine,” I said, giving her a small shrug. “He’s as free to express his opinion as you or I, even if neither of us likes it,” I said, offering her a small smile. “Besides, I should thank you for standing up to him. I might be a little biased in my view of things, but I’m fairly certain that Rocke wasn’t involved in what Hanks is claiming. I don’t imagine he’d fare well in one of the sheriff’s cells.”

  “Well, as long as Hanks doesn’t have enough evidence to get a warrant, I don’t have to let him in,” she said, dropping back into her seat, the chair giving a faint creak as her body settled into it. “If he does, then there’s nothing I can do.”

  “I understand,” I said, nodding. “I’m just glad you’re doing your job.”

  “Even when it means I won’t let you go wake your buddy up, either?” Her words made me a chuckle a little bit, a welcome respite after the tension that had just been in the room.

  “Yeah, even then,” I admitted, giving her a smile. “My name’s Hawke, by the way. Hawke Decroux.” I stepped up to the front desk and extended my hand. She smiled, displaying b
rilliant, pearl-white teeth that stood out against her dark skin. She took my offered hand and gave it a quick, firm shake.

  “Ellera,” she said. “Ellera Akinyemi. Nice to meet you.”

  “A pleasure,” I said, my smile switching to a grin as I released her hand. “Again, thanks.”

  “I’m just doing my job,” she said, her grin shifting back to a smile of her own. It looked nice, I decided. I liked it. “And now,” she said, looking back down at her desk and hiding away the smile, “I’m going to have to warn my supervisor and the rest of the staff exactly what’s coming our way. Are you going to wait here for your friend to wake up?” she asked, looking back up at me. “Or are you going to wait for our call?”

  “No, I’ll wait for the call,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ve got other stuff I can look into in the meantime.”

  Ellera offered me another faint smile as she pulled a small sign that read “Back in Five Minutes” from a drawer and set it on the counter. “I’ll be sure we call you once he wakes up. Good luck out there, and keep an eye out for Sheriff Hanks.” The she turned away from the desk, heading back into the depths of the hospital.

  “Thanks,” I said, watching her go. She vanished into the back, and I turned away from the desk, heading back towards the hot, morning sun.

  Well, she was nice, I thought as I stepped through the front doors, the cool air of the hospital fading away to a dry, burning heat. And she’s got some guts, too, standing up to the sheriff like that. Quite a lot of spunk in— Oh no …

  My mental outburst almost became a verbal one as I spotted the sheriff standing next to the driver’s door of my Rover, hat down low over his eyes and one hand cocked on his hip. He reminded me of a bandit from a bad western, the kind that walks into a saloon wearing all black and demands that the piano player in the corner switch to minor key. Hanks’ own car was backed in next to mine, his driver’s door half-open behind him. He’d been waiting for me.

  “Sheriff,” I said as politely as I could manage as I came to a stop. I silently cursed my stupidity for leaving my staff in my car. I could see it through the windshield, leaning against the passenger seat, but I couldn’t get to it. I didn’t think I’d need it, but I wasn’t fond of how closely the sheriff’s hand was resting to his gun.