Blake Byron: Paranormal Investigator

by Andrew Beymer

  "What could possibly be worse than my wife dead and my daughter kidnapped?" I asked, my voice quiet.

  The Chief took a moment to gather himself. Took in a deep breath. Then he let it out and shook his head. He seemed to regain some of his composure. Seemed to remember he was the one who was supposed to be in charge here.

  "It's about that," the Chief said.

  He got louder. That's what he always did when he felt like he was losing control.

  "We have a girl who showed up dead last night after talk of a home invasion and then tonight your wife shows up dead after a similar call. Both times you’re the first person on the scene."

  I let out a noise that was somewhere between disbelief and disgust at where the Chief was obviously going with this stupid thread of fucked up logic. From the way he glared at me the Chief didn't like my attitude, but apparently he’d also decided it would be a good idea to keep his big damn mouth shut.

  The murderous look on my face probably went a long way towards convincing him.

  "I was the first one on the scene in both cases because I was the only person actually out on patrol," I said. "Let's not kid ourselves about what Kinsey was doing. I might play the occasional game on my phone, but at least I’m not napping through the night on the job.”

  "Now don't you start bringing other officers into this," the Chief said. "The fact is this looks pretty bad and…"

  The card table cracked. The metal frame stayed in place, but the fake wood top fell down through the center carrying the pad of paper and pen the Chief was doodling with right along with it.

  I stared at the ruins of the card table. I hadn’t meant to break the thing. I looked at my fist, then looked up to the Chief who was turning several shades of red.

  Yeah, if there was one thing the Chief didn't like it was somebody destroying department property. He opened his mouth as though he was about to really rip into me, but I held up a hand.

  Again there must've been something to the murderous look in my eyes, because the Chief shut right up.

  "You don't think I know how serious this is?" I asked, my voice low and threatening. It was a marked contrast to the screaming and shouting the Chief usually got when he was ripping into someone and they tried defending themselves.

  "My wife was killed right in front of me and my daughter was kidnapped," I hissed. "If that's not fucking serious then I don't know what is, and the last thing I need is to be stuck in here chitchatting with you while the assholes who did this are still out there."

  "You mean the vampires," the Chief asked, his voice dripping with scorn.

  "Exactly!" I said. "I told you who did this, and if you'd just let me out of here to…"

  The Chief shook his head. He looked sad for the first time all night. I figured better late than never. It wouldn't hurt the old man to show a little bit of humanity considering everything that had happened.

  I was starting to regret hanging around long enough for the "authorities" to show up. I wouldn't have stuck around if I knew they were going to toss me in handcuffs and take me into custody.

  And now this. This ridiculous line of questioning from the Chief. He didn't seem interested in getting at the truth. Only in covering it up.

  Briefly I wondered if the Chief was a part of that cover-up the other vampire, the first one from last night, had mentioned.

  I dismissed it as the thought crossed my mind. The Chief was a lot of things, but smart enough to carry on a massive criminal conspiracy was not one of them.

  "I'm really sorry you’re insisting on sticking to that ridiculous story,” the Chief said.

  "Let me go," I said. "Let me go or else."

  The Chief laughed. It was a deep and rich laugh. It was an amusement he hadn't shown at any other point in the questioning tonight.

  "Byron, you're not going anywhere tonight," he said. "Maybe not ever if you insist on sticking to this ridiculous vampire story. A judge isn’t going to appreciate that, and you’ll be lucky if a jury sticks you in the loony bin.”

  My eyes narrowed. I didn't like what the Chief was saying. I was fully prepared to fight my way out of here if I needed to. I thought back to what Anderson and Hooks had said the night before about my level of skill compared to my coworkers.

  It wouldn't be a problem to break out if I needed to.

  After all, I was the campus cop who'd taken out three vampires in two nights. A big deal if Hooks and Anderson were to be believed. Not to mention all the nasty things I’d done overseas. Next to that a bunch of campus cops who’d let themselves go were nothing.

  The Chief opened his mouth as though he was going to say something, but before he could get anything out the drunk tank door slammed open behind him. Hooks and Anderson appeared in the door as though thinking of them was enough to summon them.

  Anderson smiled down at the Chief. Walked over and clapped the old man on the back.

  "I think we both know what I'm about to say and what you're about to do, so why don’t we dispense with the shouting and you do what I ask you to do from the get go?”

  The Chief's mouth fell open and worked back and forth a couple of times as though he couldn't believe Anderson actually waltzed in and started telling him what to do. Then his eyes narrowed and he shook his head. He muttered a couple of choice things under his breath about government agents before standing and shooting me a look.

  "You’ll be careful about what you say if you know what's good for you Byron," he said.

  And with that not-so-cryptic parting shot, again the Chief wasn't exactly a smart man even on the best of days, he turned and stormed out. But not without a couple of parting glares for the two government agents.

  21

  Government Intervention

  The door slammed behind the Chief but Anderson and Hooks didn't react. They did look at each other once the Chief was gone though.

  "I think he took that a lot better tonight than yesterday," Hooks said.

  "Maybe so," Anderson said. "Anything’s better than shouting."

  "I don't like it when they shout," Hooks said. "Especially when we have to threaten their job."

  "Is there something I can help you gentlemen with?" I asked, interrupting their back and forth.

  I didn't have time for good agent/bad agent on a good night, and this was about as far from a good night as I’d ever had.

  Both turned to face me. Both blinked in unison as though they were surprised to see me sitting there. Then Anderson reached out and put a stack of folders on the table top.

  The only problem was the tabletop wasn't there anymore. It was on the ground split into a cracked V shape, but either Anderson was on autopilot or he hadn’t noticed the cracked table. The folders fell to the floor and he looked down. His mouth twitched, but otherwise he didn't react.

  "That's unfortunate," Hooks said.

  "Indeed," Anderson said.

  I sighed. I figured they’d show up tonight. Actually I’d kind of hoped they’d show up when it became clear the Chief wasn’t letting me go. I also figured the conversation might go something like this.

  Still, I was happy to see them. As much as I hated to admit to ever being happy to see a government agent or intelligence puke.

  They believed me. That meant they’d take my side. They might even be able to get me the hell out of here and avoid talking to that judge and jury the Chief had been talking about. They could get me away from the local authorities who seemed so intent on yanking my monkey chain and keeping me from finding my daughter.

  Anderson looked down at the pile of papers and then up to me. For a wonder he looked genuinely perturbed, though I didn't think it had anything to do with the mess he’d created. Finally he sighed and shook his head.

  "I'm sorry about what happened to you tonight Byron," he said.

  "We can't help but feel like it was our fault," Hooks replied.

  I blinked a couple of times. I'd expected a line of bullshit from them. Not a couple of G-men acting like this
was all their fault.

  "It's my fault," I said. "I should’ve warned my wife. Should’ve said something. Should've told her not to invite anyone into the house…"

  "Yeah, as far as we can tell that one was made up by Hollywood," Anderson said.

  "But it seems like they have a hell of a time of crossing running water," Hooks said. "You might've been okay if you put her on the other side of the Mississippi or something."

  "No go," Anderson said. "They're not any good at crossing running water, but there are so many damn bridges in this country now that it's not an issue. Not like the old days when lack of infrastructure helped more than it hurt. Supernaturally speaking.”

  Hooks shrugged. “I suppose that's the price of civilization."

  I stared between the two of them. I realized in that moment that they knew a hell of a lot more about vampires that I'd thought based on our brief conversation last night. And that only caused another wave of guilt to run through me.

  I should’ve taken advantage of the interrogation last night to do some interrogating of my own. To ask them questions about vampires. Particularly on how they could be avoided and killed.

  Maybe that would’ve helped my family.

  Now I was dealing with hindsight. Now the damage was done and there wasn't anything I could do about it. I’d lost my wife and maybe my daughter because I was overconfident. Because I didn’t think to ask questions.

  "I don't suppose the vampire bit your wife before it did her in?" Anderson asked.

  Suddenly I was back in my bedroom. Back in the house we’d been so happy to purchase when I got the job here. We’d been so happy that we’d finally be able to live together. To build a life together.

  And now all I could think about when I thought of that perfect house was watching my wife get her throat cut open.

  "No," I said, my voice hoarse. “He didn't bite her or anything. He cut her neck open and let her bleed out."

  I forced myself to say it. Forced myself to relive the horror. Every word was like a little nail of pain being hammered home in my soul, and I didn't like it but I figured it was the least I deserved considering I was alive and Rachel was dead and it was all my fault.

  "I was afraid of that," Anderson said.

  "It means less work," Hooks replied.

  Anderson shot Hooks a look that was pure anger. Hooks shut his mouth pretty damn quick and looked to me. "Sorry man."

  "What are you guys talking about?" I asked.

  "What we’re talking about is pretty simple," Anderson said.

  "Think about what you're going up against," Hooks said. "Vampires. What happens to people who get bit by vampires?"

  "They get drained of their blood?" I asked.

  "Come on Byron," Anderson said. "You're smarter than that. Think about what you know from horror movies and horror novels. All that shit is based on something, after all.”

  “You mean like vampires needing an invitation to come into your house?” I asked with an arched eyebrow.

  Anderson didn’t respond, but the look he gave me was classic. I’d have to save that one and use it myself someday.

  I thought of what I knew, but it wasn't much. Most of my knowledge of the horror genre came from a friend of mine who'd been way too into that stuff back in middle school, to the detriment of his social life and any attempts at losing his virginity before college.

  It’d never been my cup of tea. To be perfectly honest that kind of stuff scared the shit out of me when I was younger.

  It was more than a little ironic that I was facing down and killing those nighttime horrors that had terrified me so much as a kid, but I wasn’t a kid anymore.

  Yeah, the sum of everything I knew about vampires wasn’t much. They came out at night. Some of the stories said they could change shape. Some stories said they could turn into wolves or mist. There were a couple of old comics I’d borrowed from my friend that talked about vampires creating new bloodsuckers by…

  Then it hit me. I realized how close my wife had been to something more horrible than being killed.

  "They would've turned her into a vampire?" I asked.

  "There's no guarantee of that," Anderson said. "But they have been known to do that."

  "It's a messy business," Hooks said. "They create a new vampire and torture the person who's been turned. Make it last for a long time. Turns out that whole immortality thing can backfire if someone wants to make immortality hurt like a motherfucker.”

  A chill ran down to the very core of my being. I realized it could have been a hell of a lot worse for my wife tonight than I thought. And I also realized that it could still be a hell of a lot worse for my daughter than I'd ever imagined.

  "They have my little girl," I said.

  Anderson frowned and his mouth worked like he was chewing on something he didn't particularly like. "We know Byron. And I can promise you we're doing everything we can to try and track her down, but…"

  "No," I said.

  "No?" Anderson asked. "What are you talking about?"

  "I mean no," I said. "I'm not going to accept whatever bullshit you're about to feed me about how much you care about my daughter. About how sorry you are. About how she's an acceptable loss."

  "Now hold on just one damn minute here," Hooks said, some emotion coming to his voice. "Neither one of us said we were going to abandon your daughter. You've been through hell tonight and…"

  I shook my head and balled my hand into a fist. I would’ve slammed it down on the table, but I’d already done that once and destroyed the table. I didn’t want to try my fist against the metal frame.

  “No, you hold on just one damn minute secret agent man," I said. "There's only one thing that's going to happen here tonight. You're going to tell me what you know about the vampires, and I'm going to use that to get my daughter back. And I'm probably going to kill every single vampire in this town in the process."

  The agents both looked at each other and then to me. I held my breath, wondering if they’d go for it. Wondering if they’d risk their precious investigation.

  If I was in a movie then this would be the part where they talked about how I was writing checks that my ass couldn't cash or something ridiculous like that, I couldn’t remember the exact quote, but there was something about the determined set to their jawline that told me it wasn't going to come to that.

  "You realize we wouldn't do this for anyone else," Anderson said after a long pause.

  "But if any crazy bastard has a chance of doing what you're talking about…" Hooks continued.

  Anderson looked down at the papers on the floor. Back up to me. Smiled.

  "I think you’ll find a lot of interesting reading in that folder Mr. Byron. You can have it. I went ahead and made a copy for you. Just in case.”

  "Are you serious?" I asked.

  I’d never known an intelligence type to give up information willingly like this.

  "Go for it," Anderson said. "I had a hunch you were going to need that tonight after everything that happened. It’s everything we have.”

  “Which admittedly isn’t all that much,” Hooks said.

  I shook my head as I realized what they were saying. They came into this thing expecting to give me all the information I’d just asked for. That meant they were acting like men. Not like intelligence pukes. I reached down and picked up the folder. Held it up in a salute.

  "Thanks," I said.

  “Don't make us regret this," Anderson said.

  I stood. Looked down at both of them. There was a lot I could say, but instead I nodded. They nodded back, understanding exactly what was going on here.

  It was quite possible I was going to die as a result of the information they’d shared, but it was also possible a whole hell of a lot of vampires were about to die. Well they were already dead. Undead. Whatever.

  The point is I was going to turn them into dust. I was going to send them on to their eternal reward, and I really hoped that eternal reward involved a wh
ole hell of a lot of fire, brimstone, and eternal torture in one of the nastier circles of hell.

  There were going to be a lot of piles of dust that had recently been vampires by the time I was done, is the point. Maybe I’d be dead too. Of course a bunch of dusted vampires could really fuck up their investigation considering there wouldn’t be much to investigate if what they were investigating was dead. Undead. Dust.

  What the fuck ever. They’d be no more and I was going to make it as painful as possible.

  "You'll take care of the Chief?" I asked.

  "Don't worry about the old man," Anderson said. "We’ll run interference. Just make sure to tell us everything you dig up. There’s something big going on in this town that’s got the vamps crawling out of the woodwork, and we can’t get anyone to tell us what it is.”

  "Will do," I said.

  I was about to leave when it occurred to me that I had something that might pay back the agents in some small way. I dug into my pocket and pulled out a sandwich baggie. Tossed it to Hooks.

  The agent caught it and looked down, slightly confused.

  "What's this?" he asked.

  "Bits of vampire dust and bone," I said. "I grabbed it before CSI: Dipshit arrived with a vacuum and a dustpan. For your collection. You scratch my back, I scratch yours."

  Anderson laughed. It was the first time I’d seen anything like it from the agent. He struck me as a pretty humorless type.

  "It's a damn shame you aren't interested in a job with us," he said.

  "I've got a new job now," I said. "I'm going to get my little girl, and I'm going to make any bloodsucker who gets in my way regret the day he was bit."

  With that I turned and left the room. I ignored the glares of everyone in the station, Gladys and the Chief in particular, as I walked out.

  They could go fuck themselves. I had a job to do. The most important job of my life, and it wasn’t going to be fun for any vampires I ran into.

  22

  Evening After

  I blinked a couple times and groaned. Something was wrong. Very wrong.