by Tracy Sharp
"Where is Darren's house?" I asked him.
He made a snorting sound. "Like I'm telling you two weirdos."
This wasn't going well. "Leona, what's Darren's last name?"
Leona had a cautious look in her eye, but our past history must've held some pleasant memories for her, because she gave us what we needed to find Darren Welch.
"Thanks, Leona." We headed toward the door. "And Astrid is right. Don't open the door to Rick or Darren if they come calling. Okay?"
"What's going on, Ezra? Does this have to do with your... talent?"
Alberto gave his mother a disgusted look. “Gross, mom.”
Leona lightly smacked his shoulder. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
Fat chance. He was a teenager. His mind would be in the gutter for the foreseeable future. As evidenced by the way his eyes skimmed over Astrid’s body.
Astrid caught him and gave him a withering glare.
He reddened and looked at the ground.
I had shown Leona a few of my talents, but I didn't think those were the ones she was asking about. One night I'd dragged her away from a restaurant in the middle of a dinner date because I'd seen a lower demon walk in and look around with his creepy yellow eyes. We'd just made it to the car when the shooting began. It put a damper on our blossoming relationship. "Kind of, yes."
She gave a single nod, and turned to her son. "Pack a bag. We're going to stay with Aunt Kathy."
5
Candace
Standing over a stinking, bubbling slick made up of man and monster was not Candace’s idea of a good time. She’d put up crime scene tape around the area and left to go to search for more bubbling slicks, but had found none. If Ezra didn’t get there soon, she’d have to deal with the thing on her own. She’d always thought that human monsters were far worse than anything her imagination could dream up, but now she wondered if she’d been a bit hasty in that belief.
She took a step back from the slick and made a slow turn, scanning the area for more of the shade things, and wondered what in hell had possessed her to get involved in all the freaky deaky supernatural crap in the first place?
Because you had no choice, that’s why. It was either find someone who could deal with this stuff or watch as the citizens of her town vanished or were killed horribly, one by one. When she stood over the dead who had been killed by a supernatural monster, it was usually obvious, and terrible. As evidenced by the simmering human soup a mere few feet away from her.
Candace pushed out a long breath and looked at the time on her cell. If she didn’t get to her actual job soon, she’d be fired. Because of the freaky deaky, she’d shown up late to the precinct too often, and had been warned countless times. She had to keep it classified, as in completely under wraps, other than Ezra, if she didn’t want to be let go for mental reasons.
And that was not an option. She’d just made detective, a promotion she’d worked long and hard for.
All Candace had ever wanted was to be a cop. She wanted to be the opposite of her scheming, psycho father. She would uphold the law, defend citizens from criminals. She would keep her town safe. And she was doing that. She was guarding them against human monsters and those who weren’t so human.
But if she couldn’t find a way to keep up with her job as a cop, her badge would be in trouble. Candace moved her fingers over the star on her hip.
She was exactly who she’d always wanted to be. Proving she could be more. She could be a person to respect, to look up to, and to trust.
If she lost her badge, she’d lose her identity. She wouldn’t know who she was anymore.
A shrill scream cut through her thoughts and made her jump. With adrenaline pumping through her veins, she took off down the trail in the direction it came from. Another, longer and higher pitched, rose in the warm, gentle breeze, reaching a quivering crescendo before cutting off abruptly.
Candace ran, with every cell in her body shrieking at her to turn in the other direction and get away from whatever awaited her.
Ezra
Before Leona had finished closing the door behind us, my cell sang the Beatles’
Hard Day's Night from my pocket. "You're not kidding," I said to the Beatles, and winced as I saw the name on the screen. Crap. "Candace. Something's come up."
"Are you freaking kidding me right now? Something's come up?" She sounded out of breath and damned close to losing her ever loving mind.
"I'm still trying to catch the possessed kid."
"Well, could you stick a pin in that for a bit? The shadow thing, and I'm crossing my fingers that it's only one, has eaten someone else."
I grimaced as Astrid and I climbed into my Dodge Challenger. It was a newer model, 2017, and I loved it. It was silver, and I'd named it the Silver Bullet. It wasn't a good winter ride, and drove in the snow like a drunken horse. But I couldn't bear the idea of trading it for a better winter car. The payments were a little steep for me, but the heart wants what it wants. Who really needed three meals a day anyway? "Who this time?"
I heard Candy’s shaky intake of breath.. "Hard telling."
"Was there anything else left behind? Like the sports watch and cell phone with the last guy?"
"A pair of sunglasses and an IPod with earphones."
"Does the IPod still work?"
"It’s still playing. A mixed disco play list.” She paused, still gathering herself, I thought. The tone of her voice was a little higher than usual. “I didn’t know anyone listened to disco anymore. Looks like something you might like. Want me to save it for you? The human liquefied sludge should wipe right off."
"Funny lady. We might be able to figure out who owned it if it still works. It should come up in the files on the IPod."
“I don't know. It's going to evidence anyway."
"You think that's a good idea?"
She hesitated, then said, "It’s protocol. It’s kinda how it works with cops and crime scenes. Could you get your ass down here and take a look around, please? I kind of need your special skills."
I wished. "Aw, Candy. You never told me. Have you been holding in your feelings for me all this time?"
"I'm still at the Saratoga State Park. The bike trail." There was an audible click when she hung up on me.
I glanced at Astrid, still looking impossibly cheerful as she hummed along to an angsty song on the alternative station. "We need to make a stop before Darren's house."
"Like McDonald's or something? I could use a bite." Astrid grinned, and snapped her gum.
I would’ve preferred Leona’s lasagna, but she hadn’t extended an invite. Big shock. "Actually, so could I. We'll swing through a drive-thru on our way. But we'd better eat it fast if we don't want Candace to jam it down our throats for taking the time to stop for food."
"Uh oh. Did someone else end up being a snack for the shade demon?" Astrid had taken off her shoes and now rested small, blue painted toenails on the dash in front of her.
"Sounds that way." I wondered how many people Rick would slaughter before I dealt with the shade situation. "I wish I could just toss the shade thing in your lap so I could deal with Rick and get him off the street."
She blew a huge bubble and looked at me, her eyes wide with pride.
I reached out and poked my finger through it.
"Jerk.” She sang a few words to a kickin’ Green Day song and then said, “I could probably do it, but I think Candace wants you there. I'm still an apprentice, really."
I tilted my head to the side, considering. "Not really. You have enough occult cases under your skull printed belt to move up from apprenticeship."
"Okay, let me put it to you another way. Please don't ditch me to deal with your pissed off cop girlfriend by myself. She scares me more than the occult stuff does."
"Yeah, she's pretty badass." A loopy grin curved my lips, and then I caught myself. “But she’s not my girlfriend. Sadly.”
"Boy, have you got it bad for her. Have you done the deed, yet?" Ast
rid waggled her eyebrows at me.
"A gentleman never tells," I said.
"So, you haven't, then."
"Nope. Again, sadly."
"Well, hurry up, will you? Watching you two dance around each other all the time is exhausting."
"I respect her wishes, which is for me to not hit on her. She's just not into me in that way. I don't know why. It might be the whole fighting-supernatural entities for a living thing."
"Yeah. That really isn't for everyone. I mean, you two aren't even dating and look at her, she's neck deep in demon shit."
"Good way to put it." I pulled up to the drive-thru and ordered a double cheeseburger, fries, and a coke, then asked Astrid what she wanted.
"I'll have the garden salad and a green tea." She shook her head at me. "Ezra, I know you run, but if you keep eating junk like this, you won’t be around to kick evil ass for long. The blocked arteries will kill you dead."
"That might be a blessing." I wasn't kidding. Kicking evil ass is hard. I don't recommend it. The job just kind of found me, in all kinds of creepy shapes and sizes. I never had a choice.
After shoving food down my throat while driving, and out of the corner of my eye watching Astrid cast disgusted glances in my direction, we made it to the State Park, where the latest grease slick awaited. I parked the Challenger, and then Astrid and I headed toward the bike trail. It wasn’t well traveled, because it was an off-shoot of the main bike trail, and was overgrown with weeds and tall grass.
This area of the park was mostly forgotten. Purposely forgotten. The locals called it “the dumping ground,” and it was somewhat of a legend. Over the decades, several bodies had been found in the area. It was a favorite among serial killers, various mobsters, and other murderer types because of its size, being a couple of acres, and its wild and overgrown state.
The skittish stayed clear of it. But the rebels and those who tempted fate, or those new to the area and just didn’t know better, used it for biking, running, or sexual encounters.
I’m not a rebel and I’m not trying to tempt fate, although those who know what I do for a living may argue that point, but I do like solitude. Non-supernatural killers don’t scare me, and I’d love to catch them dumping bodies so that I could call Candy and turn them in. So far, I’d missed the show. I knew I’d catch one in the act someday. The odds were in my favor. So I'd used the Dumping Ground countless times for both running and skiing.
But the loneliness of the area made it the perfect hunting ground for any evil entity, living or not. The monsters didn’t bother me for the most part. I’d earned some street cred among them. Every once in a while one of them would try to creep up on me to try to best me, or because I was cramping their style, but it always turned out badly for them.
For the rebels and unwitting, it was the reverse situation. The isolation of the Dumping Ground made those who ventured onto it easy pickings. All a monster had to do was crouch in the shadows and wait.
A short, abrupt scream jolted me from my thoughts and made gooseflesh break out all over my skin..
Candy. Candy doesn’t scream. Something horrible had to have happened to her.
Astrid and I ran about a half mile and rounded a steep curve in the trail before Candace came into view. She had her .38 trained at some bushes.
“Candace? What happened?” I’m a runner, but I was breathless. My heart had jumped into my throat when I’d heard her scream and it felt like it was still there.
Candace glanced at us with wild eyes and then lowered her gun. “It was a snake. I freaking hate snakes.”
“You were going to shoot the snake?” Astrid asked her.
Candace shuddered, making disgusted sounds. “Yes. I would’ve. It was going to come at me. I could see the intent in its beady little eyes.”
Astrid gave me a sidelong look but wisely said nothing.
“Well, it looks like it’s gone now.” I walked toward Candy. “You scared it away.”
“Yeah.” She reluctantly looked away from the spot where the snake had run for cover. “Anyway,” she kept hold of her gun and gestured toward the slick. "This isn't good, Ezra. We need to deal with this. Did you bring the fireworks?"
"Left them in the car. But I'll go get them." Astrid had gone on a fireworks shopping spree last night and purchased the good ones. I needed to give her a raise.
"I'll get them," Astrid said.
Candace gave Astrid a single, distracted nod.
Astrid’s ‘I told you so’ gaze flicked to me before she turned and began to jog back the way we'd come.
"What took you so long? I've been waiting for that shadow thing to jump back out and devour me."
"Oh, come on. I didn't think I was that long." I knew I’d taken that long. And I knew she knew it. It’s human nature to deny the obvious when you think you’re going to get shit over it.
"Ezra, is that a fresh ketchup stain on your shirt?" She eyed the stain on my chest, between the flaps of my duster.
"I was hungry."
She cocked her head, staring at me. "So is that shade monster."
"Point taken." I bent a little and peered at the slick. A metallic red cell phone lay about a half a foot from it. “Joggers usually use their cell phones to listen to music these days.”
"Well, if the jogger ever reappears, in one piece, be sure to tell him or her to get with the times."
I cracked a grin. "Candy, you're just so sweet."
"Uh huh." She took a step back and bent down, eying the slick for clues. Disgust was all over her face. She lifted the back of her hand to her nose.
Even when she was nauseous she was beautiful. "It's that sharp wit and snark that makes me like you."
She stared at me over her aviators. "Are you really hitting on me over the remnants of a recently eaten victim?"
"Nope. Just stating a fact." The puddle began to bubble and sizzle, and I stepped back from it. "We need to set this thing on fire."
Candy dug a box of wooden matches from her leather bomber jacket. She picked one out and flicked the match head with a fingernail. The flame came to life and she tossed the match into the slick.
This time, the slick sparked and reared up, and a tinny screech came from it. For a moment the slick was a sparking, jittering thing, and then it seemed to evaporate, leaving glittering ashes to fly away in the wind.
"Can we get on with the fireworks, now?" Candy asked me. Her eyes shifted around nervously. "Please?"
I squinted. "I'd love to, but there's the small matter of the homicidal demon possession. The kid is loose and he's going to murder people. Probably a lot of people."
Candy’s blue eyes pinned me over the aviators. "The oil slick monsters have a head start on him, Ez."
"True." I peered down the bike path, looking for Astrid. "You know, Astrid could do it.”
Candy arched a brow at me. “Your cute little assistant?”
“Astrid’s capable. She’s trained under me for three years, Candy.” I felt the first uncomfortable stirrings in the pit of my stomach. Astrid was taking longer than she should. I peered down the path she’d taken to go back to the car. “She should've been back by now."
Candy frowned. She turned and began walking down the path. "I don't see her, Ezra.”
Cold fingers squeezed at my chest. Astrid was capable, but she didn’t have magic. And she was alone, walking through the Dumping Ground. I shouldn't have let her go alone.
We’d gone about half way back to the parking lot when we saw the box of fireworks lying on its side in the middle of the path. Astrid was nowhere in sight.
“Something’s happened to her.” My head swung this way and that, trying to look everywhere at once. There was no sign of her. “Astrid!”
My voice echoed back to me.
But a groan drifted over the breeze from some trees off to the right of the path. It came again, slightly louder, and it was distinctly male.
“Hello?” I walked cautiously toward the sound, but Candy walked ahead
of me, her .38 special trained in front of her.
Her voice was cop assertive, and her body language said that she wasn’t messing around. Candy was a sharp shooter. I’d seen her in target practice. I wouldn’t want to be in her cross hairs. “Who’s in there? Come out, hands on your head. Identify yourself.”
The groan came again, and then, “Mom?”
Candy shot me a puzzled look. “Who are you? Come out now.”
There was a rustling sound, and then a head rose from behind some tall brush. I recognized that face. I was also familiar with the confused, bewildered expression he wore. It was the look of the recently possessed, who had just come back to themselves after a demon left them.
I stepped forward, reaching a hand out. “Rick? It’s okay now.”
The rest of Rick emerged from the bushes, still in his boxer shorts. His arms, chest, and legs were covered in scratches and bruises from Baal’s escapades. He looked around with wide, frightened eyes. “Where am I?”
His hands were covered in blood.
“You’re at Crescent Park, Rick.” Candy approached with one hand out, her gun still trained on him. “Get down on your belly and place your hands behind your back.”
“Why? Why do you have a gun on me?” Rick looked like he was about to cry. “Did I do something bad?”
“Just do it, Rick,” Candy said.
I couldn’t argue with her. Baal was gone from him. But it looked like he got what he wanted from Rick before he left him. His blood soaked hands told the story of horrific violence. And it hadn’t happened very long ago. The blood was still dripping.
Rick followed our eyes and lifted his hands, staring at them. A look of horror and panic came over his face. “Oh, my God. Oh, God.”
“Get down on the ground and lay on your belly, I said.” Candy was now shouting at him. Rick was freaking out and covered in blood, and she wanted to get control of the situation. It was what she was trained to do. But this was no normal situation. She raised her cell to her ear.
“Candy, don’t.” I knew better than to place a hand on her arm to stop her. I’d be picking my teeth up off the ground.
