by Byron Starr
When the sun went down, James wasn’t tired, so he sat in the squad room and played poker with Emilio and Chad, who was staying at the jail as a sort of reserve.
No one could have imagined what the beast had in store for that night.
Chapter 23
The Beast’s Gambit
The beast moved inside the city limits of Newton during the late afternoon. It was much more difficult to move around with the townspeople and reporters still out and about, but it wanted to get into position before James went to sleep, enabling him to spy on the beast’s movements. The demonic creature limped on, every now and then entering minds and making people see it as nothing more than a large dog. But mostly the beast stayed in hiding, just in case someone happened to drive by and catch a glimpse before it could enter their minds.
The beast hid under a house on Houston Street, only two houses down from where it had killed Tina Beck, a short distance from the Newton County Jail. It waited there until just after dark. Then it moved through the shadows, until it came to a small alley running behind the now abandoned stores on the square. Once in the alley, it found a back entrance to an old hardware store that had been closed for years. It looked up and down the broad alley and smelled the air. No one was near.
The beast slammed a shoulder into the door. The rusty hinges gave easily and the door crashed to the ground after only one blow. The beast took one last look up and down the alley to make sure no one had heard the door fall. It stepped inside.
An old display window at the front of the shop provided the perfect vantage point. The beast could clearly see the front door of the Sheriff’s Department, as well as the parking lot, while remaining in the dark shadows of the old store. It watched and waited.
Time was of the essence. It wasn’t sure when The One Who Sees bedded down, but it didn’t want to be caught vulnerable when he did. It was fairly certain The One Who Sees would be able to wake up and warn the others before it could strike unless everything went perfectly.
It was over thirty minutes before all the patrol cars that were to patrol that night left the station. All that was left in the parking lot were four vehicles.
The beast pulled the bolt lock then slowly turned the doorknob, as it had seen the frail ones do so often. The door creaked open. The beast set out across the street as quickly as its wounded condition would allow, boldly loping across the road toward the Sheriff’s Department parking lot. Once there, it picked the vehicle nearest the front door and quickly climbed under it.
It shut its eyes, not to release the vision, but to keep James from seeing where it was should he fall asleep before the beast could carry out its plan.
The beast waited.
* * *
James hated to drop out of the poker game. He was having a good time, and, even more importantly, he was winning. But he knew his primary reason for being at the jail was so his dreams could be used to catch the beast. So, at around ten o’clock, James got up, stretched and did his best to fake a yawn. “It’s been nice taking y’all’s money, but I’ve got to get some rest.”
“Well, I think I’ve lost enough for one night,” Emilio said.
But Chad was still shuffling for another hand when James got up. “Oh, come on,” Chad said. “I’m sixty in the hole here. Give me a chance to win some of it back.”
“I don’t think so. The way I’m playing tonight, I’d just take all your money and have to feel guilty tomorrow.”
Chad finished shuffling and distributed the five cards to himself, Emilio, and the chair James had just vacated. “Just a couple more hands.”
“No thanks, I’m through for the night.”
Chad picked up his hand and glanced at his cards. He wasn’t exactly an accomplished poker player; James could tell by the look on his face that he had a good hand. And if that was the case, it would be his first good hand of the night.
“Hell, James, You’ve been sleeping all night and halfway through the day since you’ve been here,” Chad said crossly. “How on earth could you be tired?”
Emilio was quick to defend James. He knew the reason James had been sleeping so much during the day, and he also knew the importance of James getting to bed and keeping an eye on the beast’s movements. “That’s hardly fair, Chad,” Emilio said. “James has been up here working reserve like you’re doing tonight, and still working with Carl during the day. He’s been pulling two shifts like this since he moved in with me a week ago.” It was a lie, but it sounded good.
Chad sat there for a few seconds, studying his cards. Then he smiled and fanned his cards out on the table – three sixes. “Can you believe this shit. My highest hand of the night is a pair and as soon as James quits, I get three of a kind right off the bat.”
“That does suck,” James agreed. Then in an effort to prevent any hard feelings he suggested. “Do you want to put ten dollars on the highest hand dealt? I haven’t seen my cards.”
“Naw, don’t worry about it,” Chad said, as he scooped the cards together, pushing them into a neat rectangular pile before placing a rubber band around them.
“Okay, I offered,” James said. Then he tried another fake yawn. “Goodnight.”
As James was walking out the door, Chad said, “I want a rematch tomorrow night.”
“You’re on,” James said.
When James got back in his room/cell he became worried that he wouldn’t be able to get to sleep. The beast had slept much of last night, which, in turn, allowed James to get quite a bit of real sleep. Over the past few weeks, James had grown accustomed to only three or four hours of real sleep a day, but last night he’d slept for a solid nine hours.
Despite James’ fears, it only took him thirty minutes to nod off, but by then it was too late.
* * *
The Texas Department of Public Safety cruiser turned in the driveway at the Sheriff’s Office.
As part of the governor’s moves to send Captain Jones more manpower, DPS officers Nathan Travis and Ron Kaiser had been ordered to Newton from the Dallas/Fort Worth area. Their orders were to leave for East Texas first thing in the morning after they came in from their night shift; however, someone in the office at headquarters had dropped the ball. It wasn’t until around noon that they were contacted about the temporary transfer. Now, even though they were scheduled for a later shift, they were still running late. They would have to drive all the way to Newton, check in with the local officials, then backtrack fifteen miles to Jasper — where they were to be quartered due to lack of room in Newton — get settled in, then go back on duty in about an hour. All this running around, combined with the foul up at HQ that could have prevented it all, certainly didn’t set well with the two officers. In fact, they thought the temporary assignment itself was a crock.
Nathan and Ron had heard the numerous rumors before they had been transferred. Hell, the death of Jana Parish was big-time national news; everyone in the nation had heard rumors of what was going on in East Texas. Rumors, yes, but the one thing the officers were not clear on was what was really going on in Newton County.
It was seven o’clock when the officers reported in at the Newton County Sheriff’s Department. They found the chubby little police chief for this one-horse town, John Banks, had been left in charge while the sheriff had gone to check on his house and Captain Sam Jones was giving a statement to the media. Banks had asked them not long after their arrival if they had seen ‘The Video.’ When they told him they hadn't, he almost didn’t allow them to go on duty that night, which would have suited Nathan fine, but it hit a nerve with Ron’s tender ego. Ron thought this overweight redneck police chief was insinuating that unless they got some little tidbit of what the State and Federal governments were now calling continuing education they weren’t prepared for the wild woods of Newton, Texas. Ron, a twelve-year veteran, informed the police chief that time was running out if they were going to get their rooms in Jasper before they went on duty and that if they didn’t go on duty there would be a ga
p in this almighty schedule they’d been told about; a verbal briefing would have to suffice. Banks reluctantly agreed to let them watch the film tomorrow morning as soon as finished their patrol.
The police chief didn’t have very much to say, and what he did have to say sounded ridiculous. He told them to be extremely cautious and not to stop to talk to anyone without calling for back up.
“Even if you think you see your own mother, call for backup,” he had said, his face so red it seemed as if his overburdened heart was on the verge of bursting open. “This is something way out of the ordinary that we are dealing with here. Understand?”
Ron and Nathan had nodded. Ron nudged Nathan. Nathan snickered.
“Just trust me. You’ll see what I mean when you watch the video.”
Later that night, as the two men drove past the Newton city limits sign, Banks’ warning was the furthest thing from their mind.
“Twenty after ten,” Nathan said looking at his watch. “We could’ve slept thirty more minutes.”
“I’m used to leaving early in case traffic is bad,” Ron answered.
“Ron, I don’t think traffic is a problem around here.” Nathan glanced out his window at the humble homes nestled in the pine trees. “Looks like some of these bumpkins may not have running water or electricity, but they certainly don’t have to worry about the traffic,” he sarcastically grumbled.
“We’d better check in before we go on duty,” Ron said.
“Just radio in,” Nathan suggested.
“Nah, we’d better drop by.” Then he added, with a sarcastic grin, “Hell, they might not know how to use radios down here.”
When the two DPS officers, with twenty years experience between them, pulled into the parking lot at the Newton County Sheriff’s Department they were more unprepared for what was waiting for them than they could have possibly imagined.
They would have sworn when they pulled in the drive and parked beside one of the Newton County patrol cars that no one was in the parking lot. But, as soon as they stepped out of their cars. Ron saw Police Chief Banks on the other side of the county car.
Ron nodded at Banks, bringing him to Nathan’s attention, then said in voice that was just above a whisper. “I wonder if he’s going to go on and on about that damn film again.”
“Oh, please no. Anything but that,” Nathan sarcastically mumbled, covering his grin with his hand.
John Banks stepped up to the hood of the DPS cruiser, but moved no further. “Cold night,” he said, with grin.
Ron and Nathan exchanged puzzled glances. “Yeah, it’s cold all right,” Ron answered, having moved to Texas from Oregon, Ron was convinced Texans had no idea what real cold was. Ron walked toward what he thought was Police Chief Banks.
Ron was right beside Banks when he turned and said, with faintly hidden sarcasm, “Come on, Nathan. Let’s get out of this cold.”
Nathan snickered and came around the car. As soon as Ron turned back around to walk toward the Law Enforcement Center, the beast struck. It quickly slashed Nathan across the throat.
Ron heard a gurgling sound behind him. He turned. A clawed hand ripped across his throat.
* * *
When Darren Woolford walked through the front door to the jailhouse there were six people inside. Past the first security door, Bill and Sam were sitting in the dispatcher’s office covering for Clara while she made a trip to the ladies’ room. They were currently in deep conversation about how to handle the newest media surge and the new possibility of FBI intervention into the case. The hallway to the ladies’ room was also past the first security door. Clara was just stepping out of the restroom on her way back to her office. The squad room was further down the hall, past the ladies room and directly across from the men’s room. The game of poker had shut down as soon as James had retired. Emilio and Chad had watched the ten o’clock news to see what was being said about their situation and to catch a few clips of Sam’s statement to the media. After the news anchor finished his comments on the situation, Emilio got up and went to bed. Chad had put the video of the attack on Lana Parish and Bob McCoy back in the VCR and was now getting ready to watch it again. Behind the second security door, Emilio was getting ready to bed down in his cell-turned-apartment for the night. He was carefully attempting to get his pants off over the bandages on his left leg.
In the cell next door, James was just nodding off.
* * *
Darren walked through the entrance and stopped at the first security door. He waved at Bill and Sam through the Plexiglas partition separating the dispatcher’s office with the entrance. Bill turned from his conversation with Sam and nodded.
He pressed a button on the control panel and unlocked the security door.
“Hi, Darren,” Clara said as she came down the hallway to the left of Darren.
“Well, hello Mrs. Clara,” Darren said with a pleasant smile, then he continued straight ahead down the shorter hallway toward the door to the dispatcher’s office and the second security door.
The hallway between the two security doors was short. The dispatcher’s office was located to the left and was separated from the hall by another large reinforced glass window and a door situated near the end of the hall by the second security door. Across from the door to the dispatcher’s office was the booking room; it was similarly situated with a large window for the first ten feet of the hall, then the door. The only difference was that the window on the booking room had blinds so it could be used as an interrogation and questioning room. Both of the doors had large reinforced windows in them. It was a huge steel door with multiple electric locks, but since the cells were not currently housing prisoners, the second security door was unlocked.
Darren walked to the end of the hall and reached for the door to the dispatcher’s office.
* * *
Inside the office, Bill was sitting in the dispatcher’s chair, and Sam was propped up against the wall, near the door. Bill was facing the door when he saw Darren through the window, reaching for the doorknob.
Something wasn’t right.
Then it was like Bill was suddenly drenched with a bucket of cold water. Everybody was supposed to be working in pairs at night, but where was Darren’s partner?
Bill dove for the door, but he was too late. The door flew open with tremendous force, crashing into Sam, knocking the big man to the floor.
The momentum from Bill’s lunge for the door carried him right toward the Darren-thing as it stepped through the doorway. Before they collided, the beast managed a short left-handed swing, connecting with the right side of Bill’s back. Using the clawed fingers that were buried deep into Bill’s side for a grip, the beast flung Bill on past him and into the hall.
As Clara turned the corner from the restroom, she saw Bill fly out of the dispatcher’s office and slam into the opposite wall, leaving a wide bloody streak on the white wall as he slid to the floor. She screamed and ran back down the second hall toward the squad room.
On the ground below the beast, Sam was trying to get to his faithful old Colt, but couldn’t reach it. He was lying on his left side and couldn’t seem to roll his body over to get to his shoulder holster. The reason he was having trouble moving was due to a severe pain that was shooting through his left side and down his left arm. The stress of the last few days, combined with the sudden adrenaline rush of the attack, had caused legendary Texas Ranger Sam Jones to have a heart attack.
The Darren-thing turned from Bill and reached down for Sam. Suddenly two gunshots rang out from somewhere in the building and distracted the beast’s attention: it recognized the sound of the thing that had caused its pain.
While the beast was temporarily distracted, Sam, despite being in tremendous pain, thought quickly and acted. He remembered James saying the beast had an injured ankle: the left one. Sam kicked out at the beast’s lower leg as hard as he could. His size thirteen boot connected on the beast’s injured ankle. The beast fell forward, landing right beside Sa
m.
Sam finally managed to roll on his back and get his pistol out.
The beast rebounded quickly, rising to all fours from its prone position.
As Sam brought the pistol across his chest, the beast lunged. It bit Sam on the neck, savagely ripping out his throat, windpipe, and all the major blood vessels.
Sam’s death throes caused him to fire his old .45 three times into the ceiling.
* * *
The video had just reached the part where the beast takes a bite out of Lana’s face when Chad heard something that sounded like a scuffle down the hall.
Chad Hudspeth certainly had his share of faults, but reacting slowly to threatening situations was not one of them. He immediately sprang from his chair, drew his pistol, and darted toward the door.
Before he reached the door to the hallway he heard a scream. His adrenaline surged, his grip tightened around his pistol. Chad threw open the door and burst into the hall, his pistol before him, ready for action.
The first thing he saw was Clara was running toward him screaming in terror.
Or was it Clara?
In Chad’s mind he saw the wicked looking beast walking right up to Lana Parish and ripping her apart. Was this Clara or was this the beast coming at him, ready to tear him apart?
Chad raised the gun and leveled it at her chest. “Stop!”
She kept coming, still shrieking at the top of her lungs.
Chad’s mind felt like it was going to explode. Although it was actually only a split second, it seemed like forever. Several pictures shot rapidly through his mind: The beast slashing into Mrs. Parish. Clara’s old, wrinkled, but always smiling face. The beast biting into Mrs. Parish’s face. The group picture of Clara’s thirteen grandchildren she kept on the wall of the dispatcher’s office. Mrs. Parish sliding dead from the beast’s grasp. Clara’s #1 Grandmother coffee cup. The beast as it prepared to pounce on Mrs. Parish’s cameraman.
