“Hey, I don’t like it either. I don’t want to start another Hammer without you. Whatever you’re doing…wherever you are…it’s gotta be good to keep you from refusing all the offers I’ve been making.”
“Not refusing. Just taking time to think them over.”
“Whatever you call it, it’s getting old. Did I mention that we love those monster renders you sent?”
“Huh?”
“The shading renders for those werewolf things,” Jason explained. “They’re a little too close to the stuff that’s floating around connected to those crazy stories coming out of Kansas City, but tweak those models a little bit more and we’ve got something. In fact, I’ll bet we could build a whole new game around it.”
Jason kept talking about the ideas that were sparked by what he’d seen, but Cole wasn’t listening. He was too busy trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Then it hit him. He must have accidentally sent Jason some of the in-between renders he’d worked on while touching up those Half Breed pictures.
Out of pure force of habit, he had treated those pictures as he would any others he might use for his game designs. He’d turned the pictures into crude models, repositioned them and then reworked the models so they wouldn’t hold up under close scrutiny. For video game character designs that weren’t supposed to pass for real creatures, those rough sketches must have looked damn good. When he thought about it a little more, he realized he’d labeled the Half Breed sketches “HBtestpics,” while his sketches for Hammer Strike were labeled “HStestpics.”
“I’m a goddamn idiot,” he grumbled.
“Not at all,” Jason said. “You can fix that stuff next time.”
“What stuff?”
“Weren’t you listening to me?”
Since the truth wouldn’t earn him any points with his boss, regardless of how long he and Jason had known each other, Cole deflected that question with another one. “You really think we could get a whole new series going?”
“Hell yes!” Jason replied. “There’s tons of crap about zombies out there, plenty about vampires, and a few about werewolves, but we could do a hell of a game about whatever these things are.”
Cole’s brain swelled within his skull. Now, in addition to everything else that had been going on, he had a new project to worry about. He closed his eyes and rubbed them, struggling to come up with something to say. Before he could put any words together, he reminded himself to check the sidewalk for any suspicious people or rampaging monsters.
“Cole? You still there? Did that damn phone drop the call?”
“No, Jason. I’m still here.”
“Good. So will you think about coming back to Seattle to work on this?”
Letting out a relieved breath, he took the lifeline Jason had thrown him. “Yeah. I’ll think about it. Can I get back to you in a few days?”
“Take the week. This is a big decision.”
“A week would be great. Thanks so much.”
Shifting out of his executive voice and into friend mode, Jason said, “We’ve got a great thing going with this. It’s what we’ve been working for all these years and it wouldn’t be the same without you, Cole.”
“I know.”
Those two words seemed to be enough for Jason, because he accepted them and ended the call with a minimum of small talk. Cole didn’t have any intention of letting his friend down or trashing his career, but there were any number of things that could prevent him from getting his work done. One of those things was on her way back to the car. Judging by the look on her face, the only animal Paige had found was the little dog taking a leak on the stone fence surrounding the cemetery. She opened the door, dropped into the passenger seat and ran her fingers through her hair.
“Did you call MEG?” she asked.
“Not just yet.” As Cole drove away from the cemetery, he told her about his conversation with Jason. He steered away from the specifics, but the rest of the story was enough to hold her attention. That was pretty good, considering how she usually zoned out whenever the subject of programming was brought up.
“I thought you decided to stay with me,” she said. “Now you want to head back to Seattle?”
“What if you came with?”
She reacted to that question as if it had been posed by a talking pizza box. After a few confused blinks, she shook her head and asked, “Are you kidding me?”
“Why? There’s got to be Skinner stuff going on in Seattle!”
“We’re all set up in Chicago! Look, just forget about that. We’ve got real work to do. You wanna call MEG now to see about that idea of yours?”
Gripping his phone tightly, Cole grunted, “Sure. Right now, I’d rather talk to anyone but you.”
“Fine. Make the call, but don’t talk for too long or Stu might just convince you to move to Idaho or wherever the hell Branch 40 is!”
Cole hit the speed dial as if trying to crack the screen. When his call dropped three times in a row, he nearly chucked the damn phone into traffic. Finally, he drove into a reception sweet spot and managed to stay there long enough for Abby’s full greeting to be heard.
“Midwestern Ectological Group Branch 40, how may I help you?” she said.
“Hey, this is Cole Warnecki. You want my ID number?”
“No, that’s okay. What’s up?”
“Has anyone called in about Mongrel sightings? I’m looking for something as close to Kansas City as you can get, and I don’t just mean one Mongrel. I have to find a den or a burrow or whatever you call the places they live.”
Paige rolled her eyes and sighed.
“Ummmm…just give me a moment,” Abby said. From there, she launched into a whole lot of typing. The pecking of her fingers against the keys didn’t let up when she started talking again. “To be honest, I’ve never really dug into the files like this before. Usually we just log in names and locations, file a few accounts and that’s that. We’re real good at connecting calls, though,” she said.
“Is there anyone else I can speak to who might help?”
The tapping on the other end of the call stopped. “Actually, no. Is something wrong?”
Suddenly, Cole felt like an asshole for using such an annoyed tone with her when he was upset with Paige. What made him feel worse was the realization that neither of the women had done anything to deserve it. “Sorry, Abby. This is just really important.”
“I know,” she replied. “Whether it’s gangs, dogs, or a cult, it’s gotta be crazy out there.” When her typing resumed, her voice brightened. “Here we go! The last report we got about Mongrels is from someone named Rico. Do you know him?”
Cole covered the phone and asked Paige, “You know someone named Rico, don’t you?”
“Yeah, why?”
“He checked in about some Mongrels.”
“Great. Where?”
“Where?” Cole asked once he’d uncovered the phone.
Abby hummed a few off-key bars to herself and tapped on her keyboard some more. “Somewhere in the middle of Nebraska.”
Cole laughed and steered around some construction cones that had been set up to close off the left lane. “Out in the boonies, huh? Think you could be a little more specific?”
“I was. The report was about a town in the middle of Nebraska.”
“Oh, I thought that was just a saying, like Hicksville, USA.”
There was a pause and then Abby said, “My grandma lives in Hicksville. It’s a nice place.”
“Aw hell.”
Before Cole could kick himself too hard, he heard a cute little snorting laugh come through the phone. “Sorry,” Abby said. “Just kidding. The town’s called Valparaiso, but it really is in the middle of Nebraska. More or less.”
“Is that the home of the Mongrels or your grandma?” As he asked that, Cole felt an impatient tap on his arm. Paige raised her eyebrows just enough to get her point across, but he didn’t break stride to explain himself to her. He did, however, switch over to sp
eaker so Paige could listen in.
“The Mongrels were in Valparaiso,” Abby said. “There’s not a lot in the report other than someone named Rico was looking into some big cat sightings. There are some pictures of a cougar-looking thing attached to the file. Looks more like a panther to me, but there’s not supposed to be anything like that living in Nebraska, that’s for sure. Anyway, this big cat was also supposed to be able to disappear whenever it wanted.” She snorted again, but not in the cute laughing way. “That’s real convenient, huh?”
“Rico loves chasing down urban legends,” Paige scoffed. “He’s a sucker for that crap.”
“Is that you, Paige?” Abby asked. “How’s the newbie training coming along?”
“It has its moments.”
Suddenly, Cole felt like he was twelve years old and listening to a conversation about how cute it was that his voice was cracking and how he’d be a real lady killer once hair started sprouting from all sorts of funny places. “How about we save that for later,” he said. “What about those Mongrels?”
Abby shifted back into her more official voice. It wasn’t a whole lot different than the other one, but there was less snorting involved. “Rico said he tracked a few of the Mongrels down to a row of houses and they disappeared.”
“Disappeared?” Paige asked.
“Yep. That’s what they do, remember?” Abby tapped out a few more things and then went on to say, “He stuck around for a few days, but they must have really dug in because he lost them. He told us he couldn’t find any rat holes—whatever that’s supposed to mean—and he left. Since there weren’t any more reports of injuries caused by anything that looked like a Mongrel, he moved on.”
“Is that the closest Mongrel sighting to KC?”
“The only other reports over the last six months were in California, North Dakota, and Texas. Lots in Texas. There are a few others that could be Mongrels, but they’re not specifically listed that way.”
“When was Rico’s last check-in?” Paige asked.
“Little over two months ago. Want me to e-mail it to you?”
Cole jumped in before Paige could utter another syllable. “Yeah, why don’t you e-mail it to me? Got the address?”
“Yep.”
“All right, then. I’ll call you later if we need anything or…just to say hi. Whatever.” After Abby said a quick goodbye, Cole hung up. Looking over to Paige, he recognized the half smirk that had taken residence upon her upper lip. “What?”
“Just to say hi? Real smooth. For a sixteen-year-old.”
“I’m not exactly at my best here. What was that about rat holes?”
Paige chewed on her bottom lip and turned to look out her window. “That’s what Rico calls Mongrel dens. Those things tunnel under buildings and floors to make their homes. Sometimes they just connect one basement to another so they can live wherever there’s less chance of getting caught.”
“Sounds like a fun time hunting them down.”
“Try impossible,” she grumbled. “Or damn close to it. Not only do Mongrels keep to themselves, but they can bolt when they need to.”
“How quick are they?” Cole asked.
“We don’t even know for sure. We do know they can be nasty when they’re cornered, but they seem more content to go after other shapeshifters. It’s not surprising Rico let them go. He’s started to focus more on hunting for profit than tracking whatever he can find.”
“Maybe he struck a deal with them. If Mongrels are so fast and so good at sneaking around, they’d make some mighty fine criminals.”
Paige grinned and nodded as she glanced over at Cole. “I’ve taught you well, young one,” she said in her kung-fu master voice. “Now you see past what you are shown.”
“Oh boy,” Cole sighed. “If I’ve become just as paranoid as you, what’s next? Foil hats?”
She let out a comfortable laugh. “Sorry about biting your head off before. I’d really hate to lose a partner like you.”
Today hadn’t been the first time he’d considered moving back, but it was the first time he had mentioned it to Paige. The more he thought about it, the worse he felt for not telling her something that could affect her so much. If he left her in Chicago, Paige would have to fend for herself again. He wasn’t about to kid himself into thinking he was keeping her alive, but he was doing his best to watch her back. The way things were shaping up, that job was becoming more and more vital for both of them.
“I’m just keeping my options open,” he said. “Plus, there’s still bills to pay. We can’t just rely on Prophet’s lottery numbers hitting all the time.” When he didn’t get an answer right away, he asked, “Right?”
“Sure.”
“How much was the last hit, anyway?”
“Better than normal, but it was spread over plenty of other Skinners. Just leave it at that.”
“So what do you think about the Mongrel idea?”
“I like it, but Rico’s a damn good tracker. If he couldn’t find them, we won’t be able to.”
“If the Mongrels are even still there,” Cole pointed out.
Paige shook her head and gazed out the window. “They’re homebodies. When they dig in somewhere safe, they stay there until it’s not safe anymore. Since a Skinner came and went without finding them, that place is pretty damn safe.” Her eyebrows flicked up and she turned to look directly at Cole. “I just thought of something! You and I may not be able to find a bunch of holes under some houses, but what if we had a tech team?”
“Skinners have tech teams?”
“No, but we know some folks who are already in on what we’re doing and would love to be a part of it.”
Cole looked down at his phone. The number he’d just dialed was still displayed in the corner of his touch screen. “MEG?”
“They go into places all the time with vans full of equipment. They’re always rigging stuff up to try and catch a picture of a ghost or some cold spots drifting through a room. Would it be so hard for them to look for living stuff?”
“I don’t think so. Haven’t you seen their TV specials? Most of their gear is made to see in the dark and record stuff nobody can hear. One time, I saw a show where they found a bunch of mice living in a crawl space that a family didn’t even know had been built right beneath their—”
“That’s a yes!” Paige said quickly. She sat back in her seat, wearing the stunned expression of a lottery winner. More specifically, someone who didn’t have to split her lottery winnings with a hundred or so other people. Since the car had come to a stop at a red light, she took Cole’s head in both hands and kissed him squarely on the mouth. Unfortunately, she pulled away again before he could truly get into it. “Call MEG and see if you can arrange for one of their teams to meet with us. Where’s my atlas?”
Cole hit Redial while savoring the sight of Paige’s trim backside wriggling beside him as she fished in the back for her giant book of outdated maps. When Abby answered, he felt as if she’d caught him peeking into a dressing room. “Hi, it’s me again.”
In a droll tone, Abby said, “I’ll need your ID number.”
Rather than start in on the series of numbers he’d been forced to memorize, Cole just waited for the snort. When it came, it was just as cute and slightly obnoxious as ever.
“Just kidding again. What’s up, Cole?”
“Are there any MEG offices close to that town in Nebraska?”
No tapping this time. “Sure. Branch 18 is in Omaha. It’s only about an hour away from Valparaiso. Here’s the number.”
“So you’ve been there?” Cole asked after Abby recited the contact information. “Is it less than an hour away from Branch 40?”
“Not unless you can fly.”
“Too bad. I was hoping we could get together.”
“Maybe next time.”
Making sure to keep his confident smile in place, Cole said, “Definitely. We’ve got plenty of work to do anyway. Take it easy.”
“You too, Cole. B
e safe and tell Branch 18 I said hi.”
He hung up and tucked the phone away.
“Shot you down, huh?” Paige asked.
“So I’m a little off my game. Living in a freezer for a few weeks will do that. There’s a MEG branch in Omaha that’s about an hour’s drive from those Mongrels.”
“Maybe there’s a sweet little thing answering those phones too. Try not to talk through that freaky smile you were using and you might just get somewhere this time.”
Cole handed over his phone. “Why don’t you make the call?”
Chapter 23
Omaha, Nebraska
It was about a three-hour drive into Omaha from Kansas City, so Cole and Paige arrived somewhere between lunch and rush hour. This city was much smaller, but felt like a breath of fresh air. One definite bonus, apart from the lack of festering Half Breed dens, was Omaha’s user-friendly layout. Even Cole could have found his way around without having to rely on the navigational widgets in his phone, if his phone’s battery hadn’t died while skirting the Iowa border.
The MEG branch office was located in a strip mall on the corner of 108th and Maple streets that was built around a grocery store and a few restaurants. Branching out on either side of the grocery store was a Laundromat, a bar, a few specialty shops, an insurance office, and a modest place marked by a simple unlit sign that read: MEG BRANCH 18.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
Paige tapped her stomach but kept her eyes on the prize. “We came all this way to conduct our business and get back. If Daniels knows how far away we drove, he might just try to sneak back to Chicago.”
“There’s a pizza place,” Cole said in a tempting, melodic tone.
“Go to the MEG office.”
“There’s also a Mexican restaurant!”
“No.”
“Oh, would you look at that!” Cole said as he parked the Cav in a spot a few doors away from MEG. “I tell ya, it’s fate.”
Howling Legion (Skinners, Book 2) Page 26
