The Madness Below: An Alastair Stone Urban Fantasy Novel (Alastair Stone Chronicles Book 20)

by R. L. King

  “Nice.” She nodded approval. “My mom never did anything like that. She’s what Reverend Blodgett calls a ‘minor talent.’ Mostly, she was good at healing minor injuries and fixing us kids up when we had the flu.” Her serious gaze came up to meet Stone’s. “I hope you’re not a minor talent, Dr. Stone. Because whatever got into those kids, I think it’ll take more than that to deal with it.”

  “At the risk of boasting, Officer Griffith, I assure you I am not a minor talent. And I’m quite certain you’re correct about supernatural involvement—I can say that with a reasonable amount of confidence before I even see any of the relevant bits. Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves, though. I think it would be best if you tell me about what’s happened. I’ve already got the newspaper version, but I’m hoping you’ll add details that weren’t provided to the general public.”

  She looked nervously around. “Are you absolutely sure this spell of yours is working? We don’t sound like we’re talking gibberish to me, and if I get caught revealing confidential information I could lose my job.”

  “Absolutely sure. Why don’t you start by telling me about the students involved? I assume that this is such a small town, everyone tends to know everyone else’s business, yes?”

  She chuckled. “Oh, yes. I mean, we’re New Englanders, with that reputation of being all stoic and minding our own business, but when you get down to it, we’re as nosy as everybody else. We just maybe hide it better.”

  “So what about the students? Anything unusual?”

  “Not…really.” She stared off into space, pondering. “Joe Buchanan is your basic high-school golden boy. Star athlete, top grades, nice kid—in fact, wait, did your card say you teach at Stanford? Joe had a scholarship there. He was set to start next year.”

  “Indeed?” Stone raised an eyebrow. It was an interesting fact, but probably not relevant. “Please, go on.”

  “Let’s see…Steve Hull and Clay Horton are good kids too. Nerds. Always playing those Dungeons-and-Dragons-type games. They’ve been next-door neighbors since they were in diapers. Allie Gaines is another golden-girl type: popular, cheerleader, the whole bit. Her parents are—were—some of the richest people in Treadley. Andre Duran had a little trouble lately—the teachers were saying some bullies found out he was gay and were hassling him about it—but he seemed to be dealing okay with it.”

  Stone had pulled out a small notebook and was jotting down what she told him. “That’s five of the seven. What about the other two?”

  “Well…Jazmin Wynn was a bit of a wild child. Lived with her single mother on the closest thing Treadley has to the wrong side of the tracks. She’s a stoner, used to hang out with an older crowd. Her boyfriend, Tony Bernardo, was twenty-two. He worked at one of the auto-repair places over on Wicker Street. And Brittany Lyons…” She shrugged. “I never met her, but my older son said she’s, and I quote, ‘a non-entity.’ She’s a goth, but she was even too shy to hang out with the other goths.”

  “And none of them ever showed any of the typical signs of violence? No red flags?”

  “No. Believe me, Dr. Stone, if there had been any, we’d have found them by now. They’ve already called in experts from other parts of the state: detectives, psychologists, the whole bit.”

  “All right. Tell me about the camping trip.”

  Griffith consulted her own notebook. “All we have is what Mr. Warby and Mrs. Burford reported, along with a little bit from the bus driver and the owner of the convenience store near the campground. Naturally, the teachers are still in shock from the whole thing. I mean, it only happened less than a week ago. This is a lot for a small town to recover from, Dr. Stone. The last murder we had anywhere around here was one drunken old guy killing another one because he thought he stole his pipe. And that was over twenty years ago.”

  Despite the digression, Stone didn’t urge her to go faster. He could see from her aura that the two teachers weren’t the only ones experiencing symptoms of shock.

  “So anyway,” she said after a moment and another long drink from her soda, “they left Friday afternoon to head to the Lake Nepauhauk camping area, about an hour north of here. The convenience store owner, Mr. Briggs, says they stopped in on the way up and all bought a bunch of junk food and sodas, then they kept going. According to Mr. Warby, they spent Friday evening setting up camp, making dinner, trying a little fishing, and hanging out around the campfire. Typical camping stuff.”

  “No one went off on their own?” Stone asked.

  “Not that they’re aware of.”

  “What were the housing arrangements? Did they have tents?”

  She chuckled. “A little cold this time of year for tents—at least for kids like this who aren’t into camping. No, they had three cabins at their campsite. The girls and Mrs. Burford were in one, and Mr. Warby and the boys in the other. Anyway, on Saturday they got up, fixed breakfast and cleaned up, and then after lunch they went on a hike.”

  “Where did they go?”

  “There are a bunch of trails out there. They took one that led north from the campsite. Mr. Warby says they walked for a couple hours, just taking their time, stopping to take pictures, that kind of thing.”

  “Hmm.” So far, nothing was triggering Stone’s suspicion. If something had affected them, it didn’t make sense that it would affect the students but not the teachers if they were all together. “And once again, no one went off on their own? Or the students didn’t go off somewhere together while the teachers remained behind?”

  She shook her head. “Not according to this. Aside from a couple of quick trips into the bushes to relieve themselves, everybody stayed together.”

  “I’ll want to get a look at that campsite. And the route they took on their hike.”

  “Yeah, I can get you that. Naturally, the authorities have been all over the area. They didn’t find anything obvious.”

  “Well, they wouldn’t, would they? Anyway, please go on. Did anything else suspicious occur?”

  “The only other thing is that the convenience-store guy says he saw Jazmin Wynn down there on Saturday night around eleven p.m. She hung around out front for a while, then came in and bought an energy drink. He says she looked like she was waiting for somebody, and was pissed when they didn’t show up.”

  “He didn’t mention this before, to the teachers?”

  Griffith shrugged. “When he was questioned, he claimed it was none of his business what the kids got up to.”

  “Okay…so then they went home on Sunday?”

  “Around lunchtime, yeah, so the kids could have time to rest before school the next day. Both teachers said the kids were unusually quiet on the way home, but they attributed that to tiredness. They didn’t think much of it at the time.”

  Stone wrote that down. When he spoke again, he kept his tone soft. “All right. Now—I know this part is difficult for you, but can you tell me about when you discovered the students at the school?”

  Griffith shuddered and her hand tightened on her glass. “That was the freakiest thing I’ve ever seen, Dr. Stone. I told you my mom dabbled in magic, but this was…well, I expect I’ll have nightmares about it for the rest of my life.”

  “I’m sorry to bring it up again, but—”

  “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ve already been over it a bunch of times with the police and all those other experts they called in. I won’t say I’m used to it—I’ll never be used to it—but it’s a little easier now.

  “Me and Liam Tucker—he’s my partner—got a call around three-thirty a.m. that somebody had spotted a light on in one of the classrooms up at Emerson High. We’ve had a few reports of petty theft around there over the last few months, so we headed over to check it out.” She took another sip from her glass, which was almost empty now. “You have to understand—Treadley is normally dead quiet at night, especially that early in the morning. Sometimes we have to pick up drunks when the bars close, but that’s about it. We were expecting we’d find a coupl
e of kids trying to break in somewhere to steal computers or sports equipment.”

  “But that’s not what you found.”

  She shivered. “No. It didn’t take us long to find the spot—it was one of the English classrooms, which I thought was odd because they don’t keep anything valuable in there. No computers or anything. So anyway, we parked nearby and started walking toward the classroom. I was surprised I didn’t see any broken windows or anything, but there was definitely a light on. And when we got closer, we heard voices.”

  “Chanting.”

  “Yeah, but that wasn’t our first thought. We figured they were just talking in there. Couple of dumbass kids or drunks who didn’t realize they picked the wrong classroom. But as we got closer, it started sounding…weird. They were repeating the same thing over and over—the same words.”

  “The ones in the transcript.”

  “Yeah. Liam and I looked at each other, and I gotta tell you, we were both pretty freaked out. We got our guns out and tried the door, expecting it to be locked, but it wasn’t. So we pushed it open and announced ourselves. You know: ‘This is the police, stop what you’re doing and keep your hands where we can see them’ kind of thing.” And that was when we saw it.” She swallowed hard.

  “Please describe the scene, Officer. As clearly as you can recall it. Anything might be important. You said you had video?”

  “Yeah, it’s on my computer at home. I wasn’t supposed to make a copy, but I did because I knew I needed to find somebody like you to look into this. I’ll show you when we’re done here. I wanted to make sure I could trust you first.”

  “Fair enough. So you’re satisfied you can?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. If Reverend Blodgett trusts you, then I do. I don’t want to keep this to myself anymore.”

  “All right. Tell me about the scene in your own words.”

  Another shuddering breath. “They’d pushed all the desks against the walls, and were standing in a circle in the middle of the floor, facing each other. They were holding hands. Every one of ’em was chanting the same words. I have no idea what they mean, but even hearing them made me feel like I was gonna puke. I thought it was the sight of the state they were in, but I don’t think it was. Not entirely, anyway.”

  “What did they look like?”

  “They were dressed in normal clothes—you know, jeans, hoodies, typical teenager stuff—but every one of them was covered with blood. They had it on their hands, their faces, and soaking into their clothes.”

  “And they didn’t stop chanting when you and your partner came in?”

  She shook her head emphatically. “No, sir. They didn’t just not stop chanting. They didn’t move at all. Didn’t react. As far as we could tell, they didn’t even realize we were there. Just kept right on chanting away. That’s when I started taking video, since it didn’t look like they were planning to come after us. It probably wasn’t the right thing to do, police-procedure-wise, but—if you’d seen it, you’d know why I did it.”

  “Where were they looking? At each other?”

  “I don’t think they were looking at anything. They all had these thousand-yard stares, like they were seeing something none of the rest of us could see. Does that make sense?”

  “It does. And it’s possible that was exactly what was going on. Please continue. What did you do next?”

  “Liam didn’t interrupt while I took a little video. He called for backup and then we started breakin’ them apart, so they weren’t holding hands anymore.”

  “Did they resist or object in any way?”

  “Nope. It was like moving dolls around. As soon as we broke the contact, they all stopped chanting. They blinked like they were coming out of some kind of trance and just kind of milled around until we got the cuffs on them and checked ’em out to make sure the blood wasn’t coming from some injury.”

  “Did they say anything?”

  “Not a thing. Remember, at that point we had no idea that all those people had been murdered. We figured they were doing some kind of weird initiation thing. You know how kids can get sometimes. I thought it had to be pig blood or something.”

  “What happened next?”

  “Well—our backup arrived and took the kids away. To the hospital, first, since we couldn’t give them a thorough going-over right there in the classroom. We tried to call their parents, and when nobody answered at any of the houses, that’s when people started getting a lot more nervous. We called in more backup and they sent officers out to check all their houses.”

  “Did you go along?”

  “No. Me and Liam were pretty shook up. We got sent back to the station for some debriefing with the higher-ups. We didn’t find out until an hour or so later what the others had found.” She shook her head. “Those poor families. I can’t even imagine. My older son went to school with those kids, Dr. Stone. If he’d been a year older, he might have gone along on that camping trip.”

  “I’m so sorry, Ms. Griffith. I know it must be difficult for you to relive this again.”

  Her face settled into resolve. “It is. But it’s got to be done. You know as well as I do that if this is the kind of thing I think it is, the regular police won’t have a prayer of dealing with it. And I’m scared if somebody doesn’t, it’ll happen again.”

  Stone was too, but he didn’t see any point in saying it. “Tell me, did you see—”

  He stopped. During a quick glance at the other bar customers, he noticed a pair of men seated at nearby booth. Both were in their thirties; one wore a polo shirt and the other a collared shirt under a sweater. Both quickly looked away when they noticed him watching.

  “Dr. Stone?”

  “Don’t do it just now, but when you get a chance, take a discreet glance at the two men at the table nearby. One is wearing a dark green sweater.”

  Griffith didn’t tense, but her aura did. She didn’t acknowledge his words, but a moment later she stood. “I’m gonna get a refill on my soda,” she announced as she stepped free of the booth. “Want something?”

  “Thank you, no.”

  Stone didn’t look at the two men directly while she was gone. Instead, he studied the bar menu while casting surreptitious glances in their direction. Now, they weren’t looking at him but appeared engrossed in their own conversation.

  Griffith soon returned with another glass of soda and resumed her seat. “I’ve seen those guys around town the past couple of days,” she murmured. “I think they work for one of the tabloids. You don’t think they heard us, do you?”

  “I don’t, but I also don’t think we should remain here if they’re trying to. Is there someplace else we can go? I have more questions, but I don’t want to draw attention.”

  She appeared to be considering something. “Tell you what,” she said after a moment. “Why don’t we go back to my house? My husband took the boys to Boston for a couple of days to get them out of the area, so we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

  “You’re sure that won’t cause you any trouble?” She’d already mentioned earlier how nosy the people were around here.

  “You mean, will my husband mind?” She laughed, waving it off. “Nah, Walt’s cool. But if there’s anything you could do to make it a little less obvious that you’re coming in my house after dark, it probably wouldn’t hurt.”

  “Easily done.”

  “Great. It’s less than ten minutes from here.” She gave him directions. “I’ll go first, and you follow me in a few minutes.”

  The two men watched her as she left, but then returned to their conversation. They didn’t appear to be paying attention to Stone as he departed five minutes later, but he could sense their focus on him nonetheless, and when he took a quick glance at their auras on the way by, he couldn’t miss the flickers of anticipation.

  5

  Desiree Griffith’s house was a neat, white two-story on a tree-lined side street a mile off Main, with a detached garage and a covered boat alongside. The homes were sp
read out here, so he parked two doors down across the street and remained in the car long enough to determine that nobody had followed him. Then he put up a disregarding spell and jogged to the other side. As he drew closer to Griffith’s house, he switched the disregarding spell for true invisibility and picked up his pace.

  She answered at the first knock, looking around suspiciously when she didn’t spot anyone. “Hello?”

  “It’s me, Officer. Please let me in—I can’t hold this spell for long.”

  Griffith feigned an angry look around at whoever had ding-dong-dashed her, then stood aside so Stone could slip past and closed the door behind him. “Nice trick. There’ve been times when I could have used that.”

  Stone dropped the spell and shimmered back to visibility. “It’s not an easy one for me. I don’t think anyone followed, though. We should have some privacy now.”

  “Yeah, those tabloid guys are everywhere, and they’re tricky. Not big followers of the rules, if you get my meaning. Come on—can I get you anything?” She’d removed her police belt and swapped her uniform shirt for a sweatshirt with Emerson Eagles across the front.

  “I’m fine, thanks.”

  “Mind if I heat up a few leftovers? I haven’t had anything since lunchtime.”

  “Please, be my guest. I had a burger at the diner before I called you.”

  She detoured to the kitchen and popped a container from the refrigerator into the microwave, then led him into a comfortable living room decorated in a rustic, early-American style and dominated by a large fireplace. “You were about to ask me something when you noticed those guys.”

  “Oh—right. I wanted to know if you saw anything else in the classroom with the students.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes—anything unusual on the walls, the floor—”

  “If you mean, did I notice any weird-looking magic circles under them, or strange words written on the wall in blood, then no. There was nothing there but the kids themselves.”