DARK VISIONS

by James Byron Huggins

  “What did you learn?”

  “I confirmed that Druids gather in three concentric circles inside and outside of Stonehenge. No one knows why. And nobody knows if a priest’s place in the circle was decided by rank or something else. Also – and this is rather grisly – they all wore belts decorated with their various … uh … trophies.”

  No one spoke until Jodi asked, “Trophies?” She waited patiently as Graven failed to reply. Then she added, “What kind of trophies?”

  The old man shook his head. “They drape themselves with human skulls and other medieval relics that only a madman would bear.” His teeth gleamed as he continued, “There were barbaric images of some Druids decorated with human heads not even decayed. Many were wearing necklaces very obviously made from finger bones. And almost all of them carried a long butcher’s knife. But my point is that we might be discovered very quickly indeed if we go in there wearing nothing but a robe. I’m suspecting that our disguises won’t last longer than it will take them to strike us down.”

  Marvin: “We are going to be armed, professor.”

  “So are they, boy.”

  Brightbarton simply stood and walked to the bar. “Forget what I said about not having a drink before tonight, Joe, but I don’t think we’re gonna be around to make any statements. And I’d rather not die sober.”

  Joe Mac leaned forward in his chair, hands firmly clasped. “Jodi, listen up; I want you and Marvin to go out and find Old Man Chamberlain. He’s got shrunken heads and finger bones and God only knows what in that Persian Bizarre shop of his. I want you to load up with everything we need to look like we’re just as crazy as the rest of them. Then hightail it back here so we can get ready. That should take care of that because we’re going in there tonight whether it’s a last chance suicide run or not.”

  Without question or hesitation Jodi snatched up her coat and grabbed Marvin’s arm. “You ready, Marvin?”

  “Wait a second,” he said.

  “What is it?”

  Marvin bent over a rifle case, and Jodi could see he was working quickly. Then he stood and walked swiftly forward.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  In a moment, they were gone leaving Joe Mac alone with Brightbarton and Professor Graven. In a shaken voice the professor uttered, “They’re monsters. This is just death for the sake of death. I don’t understand it.”

  Joe Mac’s words held no compassion.

  “You will.”

  * * *

  Two hours later Jodi parked the car at the same street corner, and Marvin was at her side as she barged together through the side door into a strangely silent shop.

  Sometimes you simply know that something is terribly wrong even when there’s no obvious reason to know or feel anything at all, and Jodi knew something was deathly out of place as soon as she stepped through the unlocked side entrance. Marvin was also becoming attuned to combat situations because he immediately drew his .45 as smoothly as she drew her Glock. Then, silently and slowly, they stepped deeper into the shop, turning and searching.

  “What’s wrong in here?” asked Marvin.

  “I don’t know,” Jodi replied. She leaned out to look over the counter. “They wouldn’t leave the door open like this. Not with nobody at the cash register.” She stared up the stairs that led to the professor’s shop. “Professor! Are you up there! It’s Jodi!”

  Silence.

  Marvin whispered, “We need to get out of here, Jodi.”

  Jodi took time to gaze across the cluttered shelves that ran up and down the length of the little shop. “First, get what we need,” she said. “Do it fast. I don’t like this.” She looked over her shoulder. “This has ‘bad’ written all over it.”

  Without holstering the .45 Marvin snatched up a basket-weave and began to scoop items into it. Without any apparent system, he went down a shelf picking up shrunken heads, threaded beads, carved bone, leather belts, and whatever was within easy reach. Then he turned to Jodi and lifted the basket with a single hand.

  “I got it. Let’s go.”

  The floor creaked above their heads.

  The door slammed at their back.

  Marvin shouted at the same time Jodi screamed, and they were pointing their guns in opposite directions; Jodi was aimed at the ceiling; Marvin was aimed at the door. And they held positions but there wasn’t another sound above their heads, nor did anyone charge through the door; Jodi found herself hyperventilating.

  “Are you okay?” she asked quietly.

  Marvin grated, “Let’s get out of here!”

  “No! Don’t move!”

  Jodi had taken one cautious step toward the door when the ceiling above them exploded downward in a white storm of shreds that lanced everything in the room.

  Before Jodi made a conscious decision, she was firing straight through the ceiling; she knew from her training that someone had fired a shotgun through the second floor. She also knew that the shooter had been aiming to hit both her and Marvin. And she knew that this wasn’t finished. Not by a long shot.

  Another blast tore down through the ceiling, and Jodi and Marvin moved in separate directions not by any coordinated plan but because the shotgun rounds were tearing up the floor between them; if they had remained close they would have both died because whoever was wielding the riot gun was uncannily accurate despite the fact that he couldn’t visibly identify the target.

  Jodi was only aware of Marvin firing upward – the same as she was – and that the blasts from the shotgun moved across the ceiling in a continuous stream.

  “Come on!” Marvin shouted and leaped to the door.

  “No!”

  With the reflexes of a cat Marvin jerked his hand from the knob and twisted to the side as bullets tore through the door, fired from the alley.

  “I knew it!” screamed Jodi.

  Steps rushed down the stairs.

  Jodi spun and began firing before she even saw the attacker. She unloaded a full clip from the Glock – seventeen rounds – and aimed at the wood panels that obscured the upper steps from view. In the next split-second they heard a smothered groan, and a body rolled down the remaining steps, a shotgun clattering beside him.

  With remarkable calm Marvin had turned and was holding a rock-solid aim on the side entrance. But Jodi was still focused on the stairway.

  If one attacker was up there, two could be up there.

  Or three.

  Or four.

  Angrily wiping sweat from her face, Jodi narrowly risked a glance at the door, waiting for light to vanish behind the torn fragments of wood. Without fully removing her attention from the stairway she waited and waited and finally something told her to move.

  Jodi charged up the staircase as Marvin shouted; she saw two newly-sewn robes lying on the old man’s desk, but Mr. Chamberlain was nowhere in sight. Scanning the room, she snatched up the robes and leaped back down the stairs.

  “Time to go!”

  “Wait!” Marvin snatched her by the arm. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure,” said Jodi. “They know people have already called this in. They’re not gonna hang around for police.”

  “How long do we have?”

  “Maybe thirty seconds. We gotta move.”

  With a deep breath, Marvin walked to the door.

  “Stay behind me,” he said.

  He jerked the door open and stepped outside, gun raised.

  Although Jodi couldn’t see the alley from her position, she saw Marvin’s posture suddenly relax as he gazed in either direction. Seconds later he seemed to almost faint as he said, “They’re gone. Come on.”

  Jodi snatched up the basket of relics and rushed forward, pushing him forward. She turned to the right. “Walk. Don’t run.”

  They cleared the alley before squad cars came into view, and then they casually faded into a nearby grocery as cops leaped out racking shotguns. Inside the store, Jodi snatched up a burlap bag and unceremoniously poured the contents of the basket into
it as Marvin handed the stunned clerk a twenty-dollar bill.

  He nodded with a smile, “Thanks.”

  They reemerged onto the sidewalk walking efficiently but without any appearance of agitation or even concern. In the nearby alley, they heard more sirens approaching, and then tires squealed to a stop.

  “Not too fast,” Jodi whispered. “Just keep it steady.”

  “Are you sure you don’t need your friends?” asked Marvin.

  “I’m sure.”

  Marvin was dutifully matching her stride for stride with a discipline Jodi sincerely admired; she didn’t know how he was acclimatizing to this so quickly, but Marvin was showing more courage and more brains than any partner she’d ever had.

  “How could they know we were gonna be here?” he whispered.

  “I don’t know,” Jodi shook her head, breathless. “They’re probably just trying a shotgun approach.”

  “What’s a shotgun approach?”

  “It’s when they go to every place on the map. They go to our homes. Where we work. Where we might have been. Where we might be going. They just cover the entire city and hope for the best. The same way cops look for somebody.”

  “Like that guy firing through the floor,” Marvin muttered. “He didn’t know where we were. He was just hitting everything in the room.”

  “Same principle,” Jodi said and then grabbed his arm pulling him toward a cab. “Come on. We have to leave my car.”

  “Why?”

  “If they saw us drive up, we’ve been made. We’ll have to take cabs from here. Then a bus. Then we’ll have to walk.”

  Jodi climbed into the cab as Marvin opened the door, setting the bag down between them on the back seat. She leaned forward, speaking to the driver; “Just drive! I’ll let you know where to go in a minute!”

  They slowly made their way from the increasingly busy store which belonged to Ben Chamberlain when Marvin said quietly, “You think Chamberlain’s dead?”

  “Yeah,” she said tiredly. “He’s dead.”

  “Do you think they know we’re coming tonight?”

  “Yeah, I expect they do.”

  “We should assume they know everything. We might live longer. They probably even know we’re at the professor’s house.”

  Jodi’s eyes flared as she clutched the headrest in front of her.

  “Oh, god,” she whispered. “Joe Mac …”

  * * *

  “Do you think something has happened to them?” asked Professor Graven as he strolled across the den.

  Joe Mac slowly removed the .45 from his coat, and sighed. “They’re not going to attack us here.” He turned his face to the professor. “Not yet.”

  Professor Graven’s foot made a grating sound of turning.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because we’re ready for them, and they’re mostly just bushwhackers. They don’t want a standup fight. Not in broad daylight. They’ll wait until they can isolate us.”

  “Do you think they ambushed Marvin and Jodi?”

  “Probably.”

  “You are not concerned?”

  Joe Mac’s face bent. “Jodi’s got good training. She knows what to look for. She’s well-armed. And she’s made up her mind. She’ll kill if she has to, and I don’t think she’ll hesitate.”

  “And if she dies?”

  “That ain’t up to me.”

  Professor Graven paused a long time before he stated, “You seem a little tense, detective. Are you always so alert and on guard?”

  “I don’t make mistakes,” said Joe Mac.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I don’t trust people.”

  With a short laugh the professor made his way to one of the leather chairs and sat. From the sound of it Joe Mac knew he had lifted the double-barreled rifle and was either loading it or cleaning it. Graven spoke; “I suppose that being a homicide detective for thirty years makes you suspicious of … well, basically everybody.”

  “Being a homicide detective was easy,” said Joe Mac. “There were good guys and bad guys. It was clean.” He grunted, “It was life that taught me not to trust people. And age helps a little. It teaches you that people can hide true colors for a long time.”

  “I’m far older than you,” Professor Graven stated, “and I still trust people. Although I admit that it’s always a risk. And I do find myself forgiving people more often than I’d like. But I don’t see how a life without trust … or love … is worth living.”

  “I didn’t say it was,” said Joe Mac.

  “So why are you still hanging around this place, detective?” Graven clicked the breach closed on the rifle. “I’m surprised a man as cynical as you would waste any more time in this old world than he has to.”

  “I’m just waiting for what’s coming,” said Joe Mac.

  “What would that be?”

  “Justice.”

  “Justice and death often go hand-in-hand.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I suppose not.” Professor Graven was silent. Then, “You are a strange man, detective. You see all life against the background of a graveyard. It must be a terrible thing to live your life in fear.”

  Joe Mac turned his face to the flame.

  “It ain’t the graveyard you should fear,” he said.

  * * *

  Jodi scowled over the seat at the cab driver.

  “Hey,” she said. “This isn’t the right route.”

  The driver – apparently Irish – half-turned his head and raised his right hand. “Let me tell you something, lady. We got construction going on all over town. We got dump trucks shutting down half the streets. I’m taking the fastest route, believe me.”

  “But this is taking us south of 42.”

  “I ain’t got no choice, lady! Dump trunks have shut down everything north of 44.”

  “Stop the cab!”

  The cabbie glared over his shoulder before he reached down and suddenly the locks on either door to the back seat snapped shut, and a glass partition sharply rose to separate them from the driver. At the same second the cabbie floored it, and they descended an off-ramp leading to the long gray sand of the Hudson River.

  Marvin exclaimed, “What!”

  “Forget this!” shouted Jodi as she whipped out the Glock and aimed it over the seat. “We are not civilians! Stop this thing or I’ll blow your head off!”

  The cab gathered speed.

  Jodi rapid-fired five rounds into the partition and blinked, stunned that the driver wasn’t dead. In fact, he wasn’t even hurt because the bullets had impacted without effect against the glass. With a shout, Jodi fired five more rounds, but they were equally useless because the thick panel held.

  The driver slammed on the brakes, bringing the cab to a halt on the sand. Then he did something and leaped out the door, quickly running.

  Thick gas assaulted Jodi.

  “Exhaust!” she shouted. “He’s got this thing rigged, so the exhaust comes into the back seat! We gotta get out of here!”

  Marvin shouted, “Is your door locked?”

  “He’s got it counter locked!”

  Marvin ripped out a tube from beneath his coat, and Jodi saw it was a stun grenade. Then he jammed it into the door handle on his side of the seat and pulled the pin. In the same breath he twisted into Jodi, putting his back to the grenade, and pushed her down, covering her with his body as the grenade exploded.

  The detonation would have been normally stunning at such close range, but it was even more stunning because the force was amplified by the close confinements of the back seat. Then through the flame tearing at the door Jodi saw that the interior panel had been destroyed by the explosion. In the next moment, Marvin managed to reach inside the ravaged door, unlock it, and they crawled onto the sand.

  Rolling, gagging and spitting blood, Jodi slowly began to regain her mind as her hearing and vision returned. She didn’t attempt to wipe the sweat and blood from her face as she laid a h
and on Marvin who had finally reached his hands and knees.

  She coughed, “Are you okay?”

  “No,” Marvin shook his head. “That hurt.” He paused. “A lot.”

  “It’s supposed to hurt,” she replied. “That’s why they call it a stun grenade.” She searched the beach. “Where’s the guy?”

  “He’s gone.” Marvin gained his knees, leaning back, and shook his head. “Who was that guy? How did he know we were gonna grab a cab at the –”

  Jodi spoke in broken fragments as she slowly and painfully caught her breath. “They probably had a dozen cabs in the area … in case we grabbed one. This isn’t the first time these guys have done this – I guarantee it. They’ve killed other people the same way.”

  “Who are these people?”

  “Psychopaths who think they’re god.”

  “I’ve never seen god run for his life.”

  Jodi gritted her teeth; “I’d kill him if he was still here! Just out of principal!” She inhaled deeply. “What made you bring a stun grenade?”

  “That ain’t all I brought.” Marvin opened his coat to reveal his belt laden with stun grenades and the deadly M61 hand grenades and two extra pistols. “It’s like Joe said. If you think you might be going into a fight, carry all the ammo you can carry.”

  Jodi nodded, “As long as you’ve got ammo …”

  “You’ve got options.”

  “Right.”

  With difficulty, Jodi stood and Marvin followed. When they were steady, she turned toward the road with, “Let’s get back to the house. If they know where we are, they might know where Joe is, too.”

  As they walked, Marvin asked, “Why don’t they just shoot us with a high-powered rifle or something simple like that?”

  “They tried that already. But I’m also betting they had a lot of faith in their cabbie back there, too.” She swept back her hair. “Carbon monoxide is actually a pretty effective way to kill somebody. We’d have been dead in thirty seconds if you hadn’t brought that stun grenade with you. That was smart.”

  Marvin muttered, “Well, I’m starting to get the hang of this.” He looked over. “I can’t believe you do this for a living.”

  “Oh, make no mistake.” Jodi almost laughed, “I’ve been on the job three years, and I’ve never even pulled my gun. But hanging out with Joe has changed the balance of my universe.” She sighed. “I guess death comes knocking when you’re on a ‘vision quest.’ Or whatever you’d call it.”