“Oh! My goodness!” Niceman gasped.
“Ross and I go in first,” Douglas said and the detectives lined up beside the door.
Tallow eyed the pistols. “Do you expect resistance?”
“All I know is that someone inside is hurt,” Douglas replied. “We don’t know the reason why.”
“Don’t forget that brown stain on the carpet back there,” Ross added. “They may have dogs.”
“That was human feces,” Tallow said.
“And just how could you tell?” Ross scoffed.
“We’re going in,” Douglas interrupted. “Tallow, when I give the word, you open the door. Do not follow us in until we give the all clear, understand?”
“Of course,” Tallow said a trace of sarcasm in his voice. “Wouldn’t want to get shot.”
He put the key in the lock, but was interrupted as Mr. Niceman threw himself in front of the door. His back was pressed up against it, his arms flung wide.
“N-now just a minute!” Niceman insisted. His face was pale with fear, but his jaw was set in determination. “I want to be clear with you. Just because I gave you the keys, does not give you the permission to disturb our tenant’s belongings. I-if someone is injured inside, then by all means help them, but then I expect you to leave.”
“No promises,” Ross said. “If anything illegal is going on in there, we will do what we have to do.”
“Why I-I. Y-you can’t just-.” Mr. Niceman sputtered.
The moan echoed from behind the door again. A chill swept through the four of them. Now that Douglas heard it again, he was fairly certain that it wasn’t a person. No human vocal chords could reproduce that sound. Whatever animal was in there had to be injured.
Niceman shuddered, his jaw working as he tried to think of something else to say in this situation. “I-I will have to report this!”
“I am afraid that you don’t have much say in the matter.” Tallow grasped the man’s shoulder and moved him away from the door.
“And just what would you have me do, sir?” Niceman said, stamping his foot.
Tallow could see that the man’s outrage was overriding his common sense. “Wait here,” he said and, with a gesture, the man was frozen in place again.
“Just how the hell did you do that?” Ross demanded. “You some kind of hypnotist?”
“Magic,” Tallow informed him.
“Just open the da-!” Douglas sighed. “Just open the door, Tallow.” He could see that his partner’s patience had worn bare. Tallow would have some questions to answer when this was over.
Tallow gripped the key and turned it in the lock. There was a faint click. He placed his hand on the knob and paused.
“Open it,” Ross said.
Tallow crouched down and inspected the knob carefully. “My, my. I hadn’t expected to see this here.”
“Come on, Tallow,” Douglas said.
“Just a moment,” Tallow said, raising one hand. “There seems to be some sort of . . . alarm system. I’ll need to disarm it.”
“Can’t that realtor guy do it?” Ross asked.
“I very much doubt he knows about this,” Tallow replied, his eyes focused on the lock. “This has the feel of something . . . homemade.” He pointed the end of his cane at the lock. After a moment, there was a sound very much like a piano wire being cut. “There,” He said with a satisfied smile.
“I am getting tired of this,” Ross growled, real frustration on his face.
If there wasn’t the possibility of a wounded victim on the other side of the door Douglas was pretty sure that Ross would have had Tallow pressed up against the wall. In fact, he was surprised that he wasn’t just as irritated as his partner. Douglas wondered why Tallow’s unexplained and bizarre behavior wasn’t affecting him the same way. What if he really was a hypnotist? That was a frightening thought.
“Here we go.” Tallow pulled on the heavy door. The hinges were well greased. It opened without so much as a squeak.
The light from the hallway where they stood pierced the darkness inside. The windows at the top of the docking bay had been painted over. The only other sources of light came from the green glowing exit sign at the back of the dock and a small bit of light that streamed in around the outside edges of the loading bay doors. The faint light illuminated strange shapes in the darkness. The dock bay was full of something. They just couldn’t see what it was.
The two detectives darted in.
“Police!” shouted Ross.
“Hello? Is anyone here?” Douglas asked.
There was a skittering sound and a crash in the back of the dock.
“You hear that?” Ross said.
“Yeah.” Douglas squinted into the darkness. “Hello! Asher? Polly? We are here to help!”
A moan pierced the darkness. The sound was different now that it wasn’t muffled by the thick metal door. It was like a strange mix of a wolf’s howl and the cry of a wounded child. The moan was combined with a wicked staccato chitter that reminded Douglas of the time his father had found rats nesting in their basement. For years, his dreams has been tormented by the sounds they made as his father chased them down with a shovel.
“Um, gentlemen?” Tallow said just behind Ross’s ear, causing the detective to jump.
Ross whirled on him in anger. “You son of a-!”
Tallow raised his hands defensively. “I am sorry. But upon further consideration, I should tell you that I don’t believe that sound is human.”
“No kidding, Sherlock!” Ross snapped. “It’s an animal.”
Douglas swallowed. That thing didn’t sound like any normal animal. There was a place within him that knew without a doubt that if he was to gaze upon the creature making that sound, it would look just like the wounded rats in his childhood nightmares, misshapen and twisted and vicious.
“I have heard this sound before,” Tallow said, his tone reasoned and steady. “And I don’t know how on earth this creature arrived here, but it is not something you have seen before.”
“I’m not listening to this!” said Ross. “It’s just some poor damned dog. Probably been left in here unfed for a long time. Could be caged or chained up somewhere back there.”
“It’s no dog, Bob.” Douglas was sure of only two things at that moment. First: Whatever made that chittering moan was not a dog. Second: He wanted out of there. If only he wasn’t a cop, if only there was no possibility of clues to Asher’s whereabouts in this place, he would have run screaming.
“You shut up too, Douglas.” Ross cocked his gun. “I’m heading back there and I’m going to prove it to you. Now you just . . .” The moan echoed again. The origin of the moan was hard to pinpoint because of the echo in the large dock area, but it seemed to have moved.
“You just turn the damn light on, Tallow,” Ross finished.
“I can’t seem to find it,” Tallow said, fumbling around in the dark by the door.
“Get Niceman to turn it on,” Douglas said.
“Right. Just a moment.” Tallow walked out of the room. The detectives stared into the dark, waiting for the hideous moan to echo again. A moment later, Tallow ducked his head back in. “Um, I’ll be right back. He appears to be running.”
“So now you let him go?” Ross said.
“Bob?” Douglas said. He pointed towards the back corner of the dock. “Do you see that?”
Two glowing yellow orbs sat in the darkness about halfway up a stack of crates. They were about the size of Douglas’ fists and perfectly round. Their glow made them stand out, but they weren’t quite bright enough to illuminate their surroundings.
“Some glow-in-the-dark kid’s toy?” Ross said.
“But they weren’t there a moment ago,” Douglas replied.
“Come on. You’re just getting creeped out.”
The two orbs moved. They turned and ascended the stack of crates accompanied by a skittering sound like sharp claws on wood. The orbs stopped at the top of the stack and the chittering moan echoed
out again.
Ross’ hands were shaking. “I really want to shoot right now. I know that I shouldn’t. It’s always a bad idea to fire your weapon in the dark. But I want to.”
“Me too, Bob.” Douglas had his sights drawn right between the orbs. “Those orbs, I am pretty sure those are eyes. Two enormous bulging pupilless eyes.”
“Shut up.” Ross said again. He had them in his sights as well.
The orbs turned and disappeared down behind the stack. Douglas could hear it skittering around in the dark. The moan echoed out again, full of hunger and fear and anger and pain.
“Tallow!” Ross shouted.
“Tallow!” Douglas said. “Hey!”
“Why is it taking him so long to catch that guy? I swear I am going to kill him.” He shook his head and started to laugh. “Why am I feeling like a kid alone in the house at night? This is ridiculous. What do we need him for? We are officers of the Atlanta PD. He’s just a P.I.”
“I know what you mean,” Douglas said with a smile of his own.
Ross growled. “This is all his fault, you know. Setting me off kilter with his stupid tricks.”
Douglas took a few steps to the side, trying to get another angle on the orbs. “I wish I had my flashlight on me. All I have is the little thing on my keys.”
“Yeah, well who knew we’d need them at one in the afternoon?” Ross took a deep breath, steadying himself. He started walking towards the sound. “You backing me up?”
Douglas pulled out his keys and ticked on the light with his free hand. The dim little bulb barely did anything to pierce the darkness of the wide open space. “Shouldn’t we try to get the lights on first?”
“No way, Douglas!” said Ross. “Come on! We are grown men. We have stared down gangs with guns in dark alleys in the dead of night. We have taken down rapists and murderers. We are not about to get freaked out over some wounded dog in a warehouse in mid-day.”
“I’m with you,” Douglas said. It sounded foolhardy, but at this point there was no arguing with him. In the normal day-to-day aspects of police work, Ross always followed his lead. But it was moments like this, in dangerous situations, that Douglas depended on his partner the most. Ross’ courage and decision making when things got rough had saved his life before.
Ross took steady, even steps forward and Douglas followed. Their eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness and it improved as they distanced themselves from the bright rectangle of light that shown in through the open doorway. Douglas’s dim mini flashlight served him better now. He could now make out tall rows of stacked crates and cellophane-wrapped pallets with unknown contents.
“There is far more being stored here than any travel agency needs,” Douglas observed.
“I was thinking the same thing,” Ross replied. “Stick close to me. We’ll start where we last saw those glowing things.”
They edged between two stacks of crates, their ears tuned to any sound that might alert them to the animal’s presence. The beast they were searching for, wounded dog or otherwise, stayed quiet. There were no signs of the glowing orbs either.
The area between the stacks was a mess. It smelled like stale urine. The two of them shuffled forward, scooting papers and small objects along the floor with their feet. Every once in a while they would bump into a crate and knock more objects onto the floor. Douglas winced each time it happened. In the dark confined space, each small sound echoed in his ears like explosions.
“Hey guys!” Tallow yelled from the direction of the doorway. “You okay in there?”
“Shhh!” Douglas spat.
“Come on. We aren’t sneaking up on it at this point.” Ross said and Douglas knew he was right. They had been making far too much noise. “Over here, you jerk! Get the lights already!”
“Sorry!” Tallow responded. ”I had to let Niceman go. I tried to drag him back but . . . he peed himself.”
“So?” Douglas barked.
“So, I felt bad for him! He was terrified,” Tallow said.
Douglas grimaced. The little man was likely to report this, either to the precinct or to the press. Depending on how he framed his version of the story that could land them in deep trouble.
The same thing occurred to Ross because he let out a groan. “Ohh, this is gonna come back to bite us. The Hutt’s gonna be on us like we were Carrie Fisher!”
“You know far too much about Star Wars for a black man,” Douglas observed and not for the first time. It was one of his partner’s idiosyncrasies. He was a real nerd when it came to his choice in movies.
Ross grunted. “The classics go beyond color, man-. Hold on.”
The chittering moan sounded out again. The sound came from nearby, so loud it seemed to reverberate in the fillings in Douglas’ teeth. Up close it sounded even more terrifying. The detectives twisted around, guns at the ready.
“Now listen, I know what that thing is.” Tallow’s voice was calm and in control. He seemed to have moved off to the side. “I have run into these creatures before. Be careful. Don’t let it scratch or bite you. Their claws and teeth are filthy.”
“As if you had to say that?” Douglas said. “Just turn on the lights!”
“I’m still looking,” he said. “One thing about these creatures, they are pack animals. All alone, they are not that bad. If there were a bunch of them in here, we would be in big trouble.”
“It’s a dog!” Ross said as much to reassure himself as to try and convince anyone. “Just a dog.”
“Listen to me!” Tallow insisted. “They are good climbers. Watch the crates above you.”
Douglas turned and looked atop the stack behind Ross’ head. He gasped. The two orbs appeared, rising above the stack. “Ross . . .”
Before Douglas had the presence of mind to fire, it was on them. The creature leapt onto Ross, its weight driving the larger man forward. Ross careened into Douglas, slamming him into the stack of crates behind him. There was a resounding crash as the stack toppled over.
Douglas found himself half on his back, pinned against a heavy crate by his partner. The creature chittered, its glowing pupilless eyes bobbing. Ross yelled in pain and anger.
A blazing ball of light erupted into the air above them. The creature recoiled in the sudden brightness and Douglas saw it fully for the first time.
It had the head of an enormous rat with spherical eyes bulging from their sockets. Its front two claws had torn into Ross’ suit coat and two more arms that looked to have grown out of its back had fistfuls of Ross’ hair and it was pulling his head back. Ross struggled against its weight, trying to shake the beast from his back. Douglas’ gun arm was pinned to the ground and all he could do was watch as it opened its mouth wide to strike.
The tip of Tallow’s cane smashed into the creatures head, bursting one eye into glowing jelly. It screeched and let go of Ross. The large detective twisted and shoved the creature off of him. It thrashed on the ground in pain and fury.
Ross’ movement freed Douglas’ arm and Douglas, still sitting just a few feet away, fired into the thing. Once. Twice. It screeched and chattered, continuing to thrash.
Ross fired.
“Back away!” Tallow commanded, pointing his cane at the thing. The two detectives scrambled backwards.
An intense arc of electricity leapt from the cane’s silver tip. The arc split multiple times and pierced the beast in several places, sending lances of white hot energy through its body. The screeching and thrashing turned into squeals and rapid spasms. It was over in a second.
There was a faint sizzle. Smoke rose from the beast’s body. Douglas slowly got to his feet. He looked at Ross, who was staring down at the thing on the floor in bewildered disgust. Douglas’ gaze then lifted to a few meters above them where a bright orb of light blazed, the occasional arc of electricity bursting around its circumference. His eyes then fell on Tallow.
Tallow winced apologetically. “I still couldn’t find the light switch.”
“What is that t
hing?” Ross asked, his eyes still glued to the beast before them.
The creature was as large as any St. Bernard. It’s torso was over four feet long. It must have weighed at least two hundred pounds. Its fur, though burned off or singed in places, was a matted gray. Douglas’ eyes had not deceived him. It did indeed have a second set of arms growing out of its back. In addition, its long hairless tail had a clawed appendage on the end.
Tallow crouched down beside the creature. “That, my friends, is a moonrat. A huge one too. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen one this big before.”
“It’s dead, right?” Douglas asked.
Tallow tapped the side of its head with his cane. “Yeah. See how its remaining eye has gone dark? They always glow unless they’re dead.” He scratched his head. “Strange, Moonrats only live in the darkest part of the Tinny Woods. Why on earth would one be here?”
“The Tinny Woods?” said Douglas.
Ross strode over and grabbed the front of Tallow’s shirt. With a snarl, the detective lifted the thinner man up off the ground and slammed him backwards into a stack of crates. “Now you are going to tell me what the hell is going on here!”
Tallow raised his hands defensively. “Hold on. Just wait a minute!”
“No more waiting! How did you do the things you did with that smoke? How did you paralyze that guy? How did you do that?” He pointed up at the orb of light, his eyes never leaving Tallow’s. “And how did you fry that thing?’
“Tallow, it really is about time you started talking,” Douglas said, his arms folded. His eyes bored into his uncle’s.
Tallow’s mouth opened and closed. His cheeks reddened. “D . . . D-Douglas, I am sorry. I wanted to tell you before, but I couldn’t think of a way to say it that you would believe.”
“Spit it out,” Ross said, tightening his grip on Tallow’s shirt.
“There is a very good explanation for all of this.” Tallow said. He gave them a wan smile. “I am a wizard.”
Chapter 9: Evidence
“What kinds of things do you smoke with that cane of yours?” Ross asked.
“Now-now. I don’t smoke recreationally.” Tallow tried to extricate himself from Ross’ grip but the detective wasn’t letting go. A crate slid off of the top of the stack and hit the ground with a clatter.
Tallow Jones: Wizard Detective (The Tallow Novels Book 1) Page 9
