DARK VISIONS

by James Byron Huggins

  When Jodi peeked around the tree, Joe Mac was smiling.

  “When Poe said that, the dog ran back home,” Joe Mac continued. “Then every time the dog came around Poe would get above it and say, ‘Zeus! Come inside!’ And the dog would run off.” He chuckled. “Poe kept that up for weeks. He wouldn’t let that dog alone. Every time it came into the yard Poe would be telling it to go back inside, and it’d run home again. It might be back in fifteen minutes, but Poe would still be telling it to go inside. Finally, it just stopped coming around. It couldn’t get no peace.”

  Jodi laughed, “That’s incredible.”

  “Believe it or not, but it’s true. Poe knows what he’s saying. At least, most of the time. It might take him a while to catch on, but he catches on. He catches on to what we’re saying a lot faster than we catch on to what he’s saying.”

  “He’s your friend, isn’t he?”

  “Ah, he’s more’n that.”

  “What do you think he is?”

  “I don’t know,” Joe Mac said more slowly. “He is what he is. I am what I am. Poe don’t ask no questions. I don’t, either.”

  After a moment, Jodi said, “I think Poe’s your Avatar.”

  “What’s an Avatar?”

  “An Avatar is a spirit that takes physical form, and it comes to someone for a reason.”

  “What reason?”

  “Only the Avatar knows that.” Jodi noticed Poe staring directly at her. “But an Avatar isn’t just flesh. It’s inhabited by a powerful spirit. And only the Avatar knows why it chooses who it chooses.”

  Joe Mac laughed, “My old grandma used to say a raven on your porch means somebody’s about to die.”

  “Well, I have to say, Joe; I’ve never felt closer to death than I have since I’ve been hanging out with you. It must be your happy attitude. All your funny jokes. At least you’re not dark and serious and suicidal all the time. It’d be terrible if you were the kind of man who would follow a secret tunnel from a graveyard where families only bury those they’re ashamed of to an even more awful graveyard where they cut off people’s heads and eat the rest. And then you’d want to go back. That’d be rough on me.”

  “Aw, you’ll be all right.” Joe Mac tapped the grass with his cane; his other hand remained buried in his coat. “But if anything happens I want you to just hit the ground behind a tree. You know the difference between cover and concealment, right?”

  “Yep. I remember the course. Cover is something that stops a bullet. Concealment means they can’t see you, but they can still shoot you. Concealment is a bush, a curtain. Cover is something like a tree, a rock wall, a cement barrier. Maybe that water fountain out there. But since I don’t really have any experience at gunfighting – and hoped I never would – what’s the most likely kind of ambush out here in the park?”

  “A drive-by. Something fast. They don’t want a standup gunfight in the park in the daytime.”

  Jodi paused. “But in the late afternoon there’s a billion witnesses. And it’s not like we don’t have a thousand cops within a few blocks of here. Do you really think they’re gonna try a drive-by in a high-profile area like this?”

  “The chances are slim that they’ll try anything at all. That’s why I picked this spot. I mostly just wanted to see who comes to us. I want to see who Brightbarton is talking to when we call in a report. Who he might be under orders to talk to.”

  Jodi took a moment. “Are you thinking it’s Rollins?”

  “Could be.”

  “You do know FBI agents have to past a psychological fitness test, don’t you?”

  “So do we,” Joe Mac replied dryly. “And look at us.”

  “That’s … true.”

  Poe was constantly spinning and his head was twitching and switching from sight to sight – something that left Jodi in constant amazement. She said, “Have you ever thought about how much sheer physical energy Poe burns up doing what he does? He never stops moving. I wonder if birds ever sleep.”

  Joe Mac shook his head. “Birds don’t sleep like we sleep. Our whole brain goes to sleep. Only half their brain goes to sleep. That’s how they can keep flying in their sleep. Kind of amazing, if you ask me.”

  “How’d you learn these little tidbits about birds?” Jodi laughed. “I didn’t figure you for a bird expert.”

  “They call ‘em ‘ornithologists.’”

  “Wow. Excuse me, doc.”

  “That’s all right. Anyway, my son-in-law ordered one of them audio books on birds a while back. He noticed Poe hanging around and staying inside the barn with me and thought I might find it interesting. He was right. It was pretty interesting stuff.”

  Jodi noticed a car stop in the middle of the block – directly across from their position – and three doors opened.

  “Heads up, Joe.”

  “How many?”

  “Two so far.”

  “I didn’t think they’d try anything in broad daylight. Remember what I said. Solid cover and then get out of here. But remember their faces in case they’re cops.”

  Poe whirled the instant Jodi’s gaze locked on the car, and now Poe’s gaze was locked on the car, too. He was bent, his head aimed like a bullet, and his massive, blue-black wings were partially unfolded like a black jet ready for takeoff. Then Brightbarton got out on the far side, and two other figures exited the vehicle before it sped off.

  “It’s Brightbarton,” said Jodi. “Two more guys got out, and they’re walking in opposite directions. And it looks like they’ve got cut-down AR-15s under their coats. Hard to tell. They’re good at concealment. But they’ve got some kind of rifles.”

  Holding his overcoat close – Jodi glimpsed a shotgun underneath it – Brightbarton walked up until he was at Joe Mac’s side. Then he stood gazing in the opposite direction – the direction at their back – as Jodi continued to watch the street.

  “Seen anything, Strong?” Brightbarton asked.

  “Just you.”

  “How about your bird, Joe? Has he seen anything?”

  Joe Mac grunted, “How’d you know about him?”

  “Are you kidding me?” Brightbarton replied, and Jodi glanced over to clearly see the standard Remington 870 pump-action shotgun under his coat on his right side. “That bird’s a legend, man. The forensics guys at the crime scene said it led them all the way through the woods to where that psycho parked his car. No lie. Led them all the way from that dead cat to the end of this road where he musta’ parked. Said that bird’s like a human being. I’d give him a badge if I could.” He gazed across the park in a slow one-eighty. “Strong, you just worry about your side. I’ll handle this side. Isn’t that what you guys are expecting? An ambush? You wanna find out who it is inside the department that blew your rendezvous with Montanus? Who set you up to die at Mrs. Morgan’s place?”

  Jodi wished too late that she hadn’t reacted as she said, “Captain? How’d you know we thought someone set us up?”

  “Kid,” Brightbarton grimaced, “I may have fallen off the turnip truck, but I didn’t land on my head. And you need about thirty years of experience before I can’t predict every thought that passes through that rookie brain of yours. You think me and Joe Mac ain’t seen it all? And done most of it?”

  Jodi had never felt more like a rookie – not even when she was fresh out of the academy and really had been a rookie.

  “Who’d you tell?” asked Joe Mac.

  “I told Rollins.”

  Joe Mac was silent. “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  “Why didn’t you tell somebody else?”

  “’Cause I ain’t trusted Rollins since this thing started.” Brightbarton muttered with obvious displeasure. “I’ve never seen how this Hangman could murder twenty-four people and not leave any DNA. Not even any ‘touch DNA,’ which is almost impossible not to leave. And if these FBI crime scene people are covering something up then Rollins is covering them. Or he’s an idiot. And I don’t think he’s an idiot.”r />
  Jodi asked, “You really think Rollins is one of them, captain?”

  “I think Rollins is too smart by half, Strong. And that’s a mistake because true believers always think nobody is smart enough to see through their lies.” Brightbarton shook his head with a sneer. “That’s the mistake all of them make. They think peons like us ain’t smart enough to see through all that fancy footwork. And that’s how you find them.” His teeth glinted. “The first thing a liar does is act real smart and helpful. Then, if that don’t work, he acts real dumb and useless. He goes from smart to useless in a heartbeat. Now, listen up; they don’t always do it. But they do it often enough, so when someone goes from sincerely being helpful to being completely useless in the ten seconds, you keep looking at them real hard.”

  “Just don’t let them know you’re looking at them,” added Joe Mac. “Let them believe that you think they’re too stupid to have done this. Tell them that you don’t have any clues. That this crime will probably never be solved.”

  “That’s right,” Brightbarton continued. “If you let people talk long enough, Strong, they’ll hang themselves. But, if they don’t, then look at what they do after the crime. ‘Cause what a person does after the crime is gonna give him away, too, if you just let him go on down the road thinking he’s safe. But he’ll be ten times more careful if he thinks you’re looking at him, so don’t let him know you’re looking. Tell him that you don’t have a clue, and whoever did this probably got away with it. Then watch him like a hawk.”

  “Watch him like Poe would watch him,” nodded Joe Mac. “You know what that means, don’t ya?”

  Jodi glanced at Poe scanning everything dead or alive. “Wow. Hanging around you two is like getting a college degree in Killer Elite. I bet you guys have solved ten thousand murders in this town.”

  “More’n that,” Brightbarton muttered. “And Joe Mac’s probably got the all-time record if there is such a –”

  Shots erupted on the street from unknown directions – Jodi had instinctively ducked behind the tree, and all she glimpsed were shots and smoke exploding on every side as bullets hit the oak tree. She knew that all the training in the world could have never prepared her for this moment as she hit the ground with her heart in her throat. Her brain went white with adrenaline and she screamed as she ripped out the Glock.

  She sensed a black shape beside her and knew it was Joe Mac as he rolled awkwardly behind the tree. And on the street there was staccato gunfire too fast to count or even locate. Then she somehow – incredibly – gained a knee with an unsteady shooting stance and leaned out praying she could lock on a target.

  Shapes were running along the sidewalks and more bullets hit the tree. By instinct alone Jodi jerked back flattening her back against the oak as the trunk vibrated with the impacts. Then there was rapid, frantic shouting and cars squealed in various directions. As she ducked out again she saw people lying face down on the street and sidewalk, and she searched violently for a target but saw no one firing a weapon or even armed.

  Everybody on the street was down.

  She glanced to the side to hear Joe Mac moan painfully and for the first time noticed Captain Brightbarton lying motionless on his face, the shotgun half-hidden by his body; she realized he’d tried to clear the gun from his coat but failed before he was shot in the back. Then Brightbarton made a sudden move with a single arm, and she knew he wasn’t dead. But that’s all she had time for as she jerked her radio from her coat and began shouting, “Officer down! Officer down!”

  She gave her designation and location and didn’t wait for a confirmation as she stood and moved around the tree toward the street, her knees threatening to give way beneath her. She hadn’t taken three steps before she had to stop and blink to clear her vision, also gathering her will to steady her legs. Then she continued forward and saw two shapes lying utterly motionless on the sidewalk.

  Brightbarton’s backup officers were covered in blood. Finally, someone on the street leaped to their feet and began running and within seconds a dozen people who were obviously horrified civilians were up and escaping the scene.

  A sharp crack made Jodi raise aim, and she saw windows being slammed shut on every surrounding building. Then squad cars came streaming from every direction with sirens flooding the air, and she heard even more sirens approaching. And for the first time since it began, she consciously drew a breath, amazed she could breathe at all.

  With a cry she ran forward sweeping the street with the Glock, trying to follow her training – to shoot anyone using deadly force, to make sure backup was on the way, to call an ambulance, to secure the scene …

  Even before Jodi reached the first fallen officer, she knew he was dead. And she only needed to glance at the second officer to know he was dead, too. Then the first patrol cars skidded to a stop with uniform officers jumping out bearing shotguns.

  “Get me an ambulance!” Jodi screamed, and one officer lifted the microphone, calmly calling in the scene. Only then did Jodi turn and run back to where Joe Mac and Brightbarton were just now struggling to rise.

  Joe Mac was the first to gain a knee but remained bent, a single hand over his chest. Jodi slid to a halt beside him and struggled twice to speak before managing, “Joe! Joe! Can you hear me? Are you hit?”

  Joe Mac groaned painfully as he shuffled off his heavy overcoat; he ripped open off the Velcro straps of the bulletproof vest and reached beneath it, feeling his chest. Finally, he pulled out his hand and there was no blood.

  “Any blood?” Joe Mac asked.

  “No,” said Jodi.

  “All right … It held. Check Steve.”

  Brightbarton still hadn’t moved, and Jodi knelt at his side, leaning close. She saw an impact crater in the back of his coat, but there was no blood.

  “Captain!” she shouted. “Captain! Can you hear me?”

  “Of course I can hear you, Strong! I’m shot! Not deaf!”

  “Are you all right?”

  With a moan Brightbarton slowly managed, “Strong, with your powers of analysis you ain’t never gonna make sergeant. Does this look all right to you?”

  He put a hand on the ground and pushed himself to a sitting position. Then Jodi helped him remove his coat and undo the straps of an identical ballistic vest before she pulled it around so he could look at the marks; two bullet scars stood out, the white Kevlar fibers blasted and torn, and Brightbarton said, “Did it get through?”

  Jodi turned him, gazing at his back.

  “No,” she said more calmly. “You’re not hit.”

  With a curse Brightbarton slumped forward.

  “Joe Mac?” he asked. “You all right, son?”

  “I’m all right,” Joe Mac answered in obvious pain. “But we need to get to the ER and get checked out.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Ambulances filled the street within two minutes with EMTs scattering to the fallen officers and then to Joe Mac and Brightbarton. Jodi stepped back, letting them do their job without her in the way until the EMTs walked them to the ambulances. In less than a minute they were gone.

  Jodi knew she wouldn’t have to make a statement just yet. First, the last ambulance would take her to the hospital for some oxygen. Then she’d be given until tomorrow morning before she had to sit down with investigators and detail what happened. Blinking back what focus she could manage, she prayed that Joe Mac would be there beside her. But all the control she could muster didn’t stop her tears and she swiped a hand over each eye. She was consciously trying to conceal her shock or fear or whatever this hellacious thing was that had obliterated her control but failed completely.

  Vaguely, she realized that a much older cop came up to her, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and was ushering her to an ambulance saying over and over, “Come on, kid. I know. It’s tough. Just get in the ambulance. They’ll take you to the hospital and give you some air. Get in there now. Go on.”

  She didn’t pass out on the way to the ER.

>   But she prayed all the way that she would.

  * * *

  It was three hours at the ER and long after X-rays before the doctor returned to tell Jodi she could put her clothes back on. Afterwards she asked about Joe Mac and found him in another cubicle. He was in a blue gown and lying on his back, two white patches on his chest. He also had an IV in his arm and an oxygen tube on his face.

  “Hey,” she said. “You all right?”

  “I’m all right,” Joe Mac tiredly replied. “How’s Brightbarton?”

  “I asked the doc about him. He said he’s got some contusions. ‘Bout like you. But the vest held. No blood, no foul.”

  “You ain’t hit?”

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  “Good,” Joe Mac nodded. “They give you some air?”

  “Yeah. Same as last time. Calmed me down.”

  “That’s how it works.” Joe Mac inhaled deeply before grimacing, “I didn’t really expect that. Not in broad daylight. And not in a public place.” His frown deepened. “I never meant to bring you into this game.”

  “We knew that already.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying.”

  Jodi scowled. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying it’s over for you. You’re off this case. If you don’t go home on your own, I’ll have Brightbarton put you on leave for being involved in three shootings inside one week.”

  It took Jodi a minute to reply, “But it was justified.”

  “You’re still off the case.”

  “Why!”

  “’Cause you ain’t ready for this yet!” Joe Mac took deep breaths. “Maybe in a few years. But you ain’t got the time for this kind of hammering. You ain’t got the experience. You got heart, but you’re still too green for this stuff.”

  “I’m not letting you take me off this case, Joe!” Jodi stepped forward to stand directly over him. “Have you not thought that these people know who I am by now? That they might not care that Brightbarton sends me home? That I’m dead if we don’t finish this? And that is the case, you know! If you send me home, they’ll just kill me at home where I won’t even have any backup! How is that doing me a favor?”