Jack the Stripper

by Jennifer Macaire

  “It’s not. We’re near the trailer park on the east side of the city. The door lets us out in different places. No one knows how it works. It came from a castle in Europe.” May gave a shrug. “I suppose there is some sort of spell on it. Chances are it’s a demon gate, but it’s tame enough now.”

  “I left my hat in the Shores,” said Jack. He turned around to go back into the door, but it had vanished. Only a brick wall remained. “Where did it go?” asked Jack, looking around.

  “It’s invisible from the other side,” said May.

  Mamie Hoya muttered a curse, or maybe it was a prayer. “The Shores isn’t easy to find either.”

  “You’ll be able to find it again if you want to go there. But remember that humans are not welcome, no matter how close a friend. Even my father is not allowed to set foot inside.”

  Jack thought that calling a three-hundred year-old necromancer a human was stretching it, but he nodded. “Right. Got it. Now where to?”

  “Right up this street. That’s another thing about the back door to the Shores. It always lets you out nearby where you need to go. Somehow it just knows. You don’t have to say anything.”

  Jack and Mamie Hoya followed May to what looked like a warehouse. On the doorway were several signs proclaiming the warehouse off limits to everyone except those wearing hard hats. More signs said something about danger, poison, and chemical fertilizer, and a noxious odor came from a grate near the window. The windows, Jack noted, were covered with such thick dust and grime it was impossible to see inside the place. There was a chain link fence all around it, and May lifted the latch on a gate in the fence and they stepped through. A cracked and buckled cement walkway led to the front door, and the door itself was just a nondescript, green metal door with a rusted handle with a sign hung crookedly on it that said, Keep Ou with the last letter faded and lost to time.

  May rapped on the door and it creaked open. Jack could see nothing. It was dark inside. May turned back to Jack. “Come on, don’t be scared,” she said.

  Jack stepped in, Mamie Hoya stepped in, and the door closed behind them. It was pitch black for a split second, and then Jack was dazzled with bright light.

  “You’ll get used to it,” said May. She reached into her purse and took out a pair of sunglasses. “Follow me. We have to get you a visitor’s pass.”

  Jack’s first thought was that he’d somehow been spirited away to the airport. There was a bustle in the wide hallways, and a low, steady humming sound seemed to come from all over. Lights nearly blinded him. Everything was stark white and brilliant. He blinked, trying to make sense of the place. The entire inside of the warehouse was open and bathed in white neon. Glass on the walls gave the impression of more space and reflected the light. Steel girders overhead hummed with wires and tubes, and on the floor, brushed steel panels created hallways and offices that stretched for as far as Jack could see.

  “Where are we?” He whispered, shaking his head.

  “This is the mutant and undead branch of Interpol. We call it mooby for its initials, M.U.B.I.” May gave him a grin, and Jack thought it was perhaps the first real smile he’d seen on her face. She was suddenly vivacious. “There is a European branch, and here in this city, is the American, north, and south, branch. There is the F.B.I. and the C.I.A. involved, as well as the local police. Everything from big to small departments are here in this building.”

  Jack noticed an elevator. “How many stories deep is it?” he asked.

  May’s smile grew even wider, if possible. “Fifteen. There are fifteen levels to this place. But we can only visit three of them. Right now, we’re going to the front desk and getting you the passes and papers you’ll need to work here.”

  “Work here?” Jack thought things were getting away from him.

  “Yes. You have a mission, Jack. And you better make it official. Otherwise you’ll just be another dangerous undead according to the police. Go get a number. I’ll be right back.” She left, her heels clicking on the marble floor.

  The front desk was small, but there were about twenty benches in front of it. A ticket machine gave out numbers and Jack took his. He sat on a bench next to Mamie Hoya and said, “Did you know about this?”

  She shook her head. “No. And to tell the truth, I’m a little leery about this. Being clandestine and having no papers has its drawbacks, you know.” She seemed nervous.

  Jack’s number was called, and he went to the desk where a man with white-blond hair and eyes like an albino rabbit sat behind a green tinted glass panel.

  “Jack Severn, born 1980, died 2005, reborn 2006. Here is your new passport. Keep it with you at all times. You are now officially registered with the city as a resident undead. The local police will probably show up one of these days to ask you a few questions. Please be polite, don’t show your fangs—”

  “I’m not a vampire.” Jack interrupted.

  The man looked up, his pink eyes startled. “Oh. Sorry. I was just reading from the paper here. We usually get vampires. You’re … um, what are you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He glanced at Jack’s passport, open to the front page. “A zombie. You’re only the third one we’ve registered since 1975. Right. Same maker too. Dr. Jim Ling-Li. Excellent. He does quality work. Now, where was I … Oh yes. Please refrain from any obvious displays of supernatural strength or anything unusual that may frighten humans. You are required by law to keep us informed of your latest address and phone numbers. Fill out this form and leave it in the box over there. Thank you and have a good evening. Next?”

  A man dressed all in black including long cape and top hat swept by him. Jack was glad he’d left his top hat in the Shores when he heard the man behind the desk sigh loudly and say, “You don’t have to dress the part, Mr. Burgundy. Vampires should try to fit in. This isn’t Hollywood.”

  Depression settled over Jack’s shoulders like a wet, heavy blanket. He sat next to Mamie Hoya and looked at the form. So many questions. Most of them he couldn’t answer.

  “Bureaucracy does that to me too,” said Mamie Hoya.

  “What?”

  “It makes me sad. I don’t know why. I sit here and want to cry.” She nodded and took a lemon drop from her purse. “Here, this will make you feel better. Lemon is good for the soul. It brightens the spirit and clears the mind.”

  “Is that why you always have them, because they’re good for the spirit?” Jack took one and popped it in his mouth. Sweet and tart, and deliciously sour.

  “No, I just like them.” She nodded toward May, striding their way. “That one is just the opposite. She blooms in this environment. Rules, regulations, forms in triplicate and never-ending bright lights and bustle. It brings her to life, doesn’t it? But you feel crushed don’t you?” Mamie Hoya patted his hand. “You’ll get used to it.”

  “Why? I don’t want to work here!”

  “Listen to me, Jack. I feel this very strongly.” Mamie narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice. “You must accept this job. It’s important you do. I don’t know why, but I have a feeling you’ll do very well. I don’t believe you’ll have to work in this building.”

  “That’s good, because there is something about this place that scares me,” said Jack. He stood as May arrived and handed her the forms. “I can’t fill these all out. They’ll just have to make do with what I’ve got.”

  “It will be perfect,” said May, and she put the papers in the box without even looking at them. “Come on. I want to introduce you to your new boss.”

  “You could have asked me first if I’d decided to take the job,” Jack said with a snarl.

  May flushed. “I apologize. I didn’t think. Are you going to accept it?”

  “Yes.” Jack found he couldn’t stay mad at her. She was so obviously in love with her work here that she probably thought he’d be thrilled too. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be ungrateful.”

  “No, I’m sorry. I keep forgetting that you’re new. Some people come back to life and think we owe t
hem everything. They come in here demanding jobs, houses, money … they even come in and demand their old lives back. You didn’t want anything. That’s something I’ve never seen before, so I went out of my way to get you this job. It’s not easy getting work here. You may not feel privileged right now, but soon you’ll see what I mean.”

  Jack was half glad, half exasperated she’d gotten her haughty tone of voice back. But he was still feeling the strain of trying to assimilate all the things he’d seen and learned that night. Mamie Hoya looked as shell-shocked as he felt.

  “Right in this door,” said May, after they’d walked what seemed like a mile down an endless hallway.

  Jack walked in, bracing himself to meet another vampire, mutant, or whatever. He wasn’t prepared to see a human. And not any human. “Jeffrey?” he asked, not trusting his eyes.

  Jeffrey stood up and gestured to the seats in front of the desk. “Yes, that’s right. Lowly detective by day, head of local mutant affairs here by night.”

  “Don’t you ever sleep?” Mamie Hoya sat down and opened her purse. “Would you like a lemon drop?”

  “Thanks, I’d love one. I split shifts both day and night,” he said, helping himself to a candy. “Care for some coffee or tea?”

  Jack lowered himself in his chair. “You don’t seem surprised to see me.”

  “I was surprised when I got your file. May might as well have dropped a bomb on my desk.” He looked at her and grinned wryly. “My best agent likes to try to kill me every once in a while.”

  “Keeps you on your toes,” said May.

  “So you’re back with Brianna.” It wasn’t a question. Jeffrey leaned over his desk, his arms crossed. “She knows everything, of course.” Another statement of fact.

  Jack nodded warily. Could Jeffrey be the Heart Taker? And work here? The one glimpse he’d gotten of the monster had looked an awful lot like the tall man in front of him. Both were tall and rangy, with dark hair cropped short and strong, Native American features, but the resemblance stopped at the eyes. Jeffrey’s were mild whereas the Heart Taker’s had been burning pits of black anger. Could eyes change with mood? Yes, but not that much. The more Jack saw Jeffrey, the less he thought he looked like the Heart Taker. “What am I supposed to do, exactly?” he asked.

  Jeffrey raised his eyebrows. “We’re putting you in the division in charge of serial killers. We’re throwing you right into the deep end, but you’ll be with a good team. Your primary target is the Heart Taker, of course.”

  That gave him a pause. It also dissolved any remaining doubt about Jeffrey. The real Heart Taker would not want him working anywhere near him. “I want Brianna working with me.” Jack said.

  There was no hesitation. “Done.”

  That was not good. Jack sat back in his chair. “How many serial killers are out there, and how many team members have you lost so far?”

  A spark of surprise glimmered in Jeffrey’s eyes, and May crowed, “I told you. He’s sharp. He’s very sharp.”

  “Sharp indeed.” Jeffrey took a deep breath. “We’re not sure how many are out there, really. According to the files, there are five mutant serial killers ‘out there,’ plus one human killer, and the Heart Taker, who’s in a class of his own. So far we’ve lost five members of your division.”

  “What are we supposed to do?”

  “Legally, you’re now an official part of the M.U.C.I.”

  “Moosie? What’s that?”

  “Mutant Undead Criminal Investigation. Your division. This department is head of it. There are some who called it mucky. I prefer moosie.”

  Jack was confused. “What is mooby then?”

  “Mutant and Undead Branch of Interpol. Moosie is part of mooby. Mooby is the whole international organization. Moosie is the local city police department, if you like. You’ll get used to it.” Jeffrey pulled a baseball cap from a drawer in his desk. It was lime green with the letters M, U, C, and I emblazoned on the front in lurid black and orange. A symbol that looked like a cat’s eye was embroidered on the back. “Here’s your cap. You don’t have to wear it,” he added, making a wry face. “It’s hideous but the boys in the design department came directly from Area Fifty One.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Jack said faintly. He took the cap and held it gingerly. “You didn’t answer my question. What exactly do I do?”

  “I thought I’d give you a bit of history first. Are you sure you don’t want something to drink?”

  “I’ll have that tea now, if you don’t mind,” said Mamie Hoya. She stared at the baseball cap. “They paid people to design that?”

  “Make that two teas.” Jack said.

  May gave another bright smile and left, presumably to get the drinks, and Jeffrey leaned back in his chair and said, “We have fifteen floors almost identical to this one here. It’s a huge complex. What happened is we moved most of the offices and labs in Area Fifty One over here, and we also have a crime lab that we share with the police. Floors five on down are off limits to everyone. I’ve never been beyond minus five. You need special access to be able to go deeper.”

  “Will I get special access?” Jack asked.

  Jeffrey shrugged. “I don’t know. It depends. We’re police. Down there is F.B.I and the army. You probably won’t ever get access. May will take you to your office and introduce you to your team tomorrow. Right now I’m just supposed to brief you about where you can go in this building, what it’s all about, and how it all started.”

  Jack held his hand up. “I just want to know why you chose me?”

  “You should know the answer to that by now,” said Jeffrey, looking at him through lowered lashes. His face was somber. “To tell you the truth, Jack, you’re our only hope.”

  Jack knew he had to tell him. “I saw him, you know. The Heart Taker, I mean.”

  Jeffrey blinked. “No, I didn’t know.”

  Jack watched him carefully. “It happened yesterday, as we were walking near the docks. I saw him across the street.” He paused. “He looked a lot like you.”

  Jeffrey almost choked on the lemon drop. Mamie Hoya jumped up and pounded him on the back, but he coughed and waved her away. “It’s all right. I’m fine. Thanks. The Heart Taker looks like me?” He still hadn’t gotten all his color back. He held up his hand. “Hold on.” He got a paper from his desk drawer and started to write.

  “Height, hair color, and eye color like me?”

  Jack studied him carefully, thinking of the person he’d seen on the street. “Older, I think. He’s older than you. But he’s got dark hair, cut very short, and dark eyes. They looked almost black. He looked Native American.”

  Jeffrey rubbed the tip of his finger into his forehead. “That narrows it down somewhat.”

  “Does it?” Mamie Hoya made a moue of disbelief. “We live on the edge of the largest reservation in the country.”

  “But my ancestors come from the original tribe here.” Jeffrey nodded. “Most of the tribes have been displaced from their original homes and moved over here. But the original tribe, the Ais were probably here first. There aren’t many of us left. Despite what you might believe, all Native Americans don’t look the same. Only in movies do you get that. So if the Heart Taker looks almost exactly like me, it’s possible he’s an Ais.”

  “An A, as in ‘A, B, C?’” Is that bad?” Jack was sorry for Jeffrey. If the tribe was small, he probably knew the man.

  “Ais, spelled ‘A, I, S’. The name Ais means ‘unknown.’ I don’t even know much about them. Being Native American doesn’t mean what it used to. When I was a kid it was nothing you wanted to talk about. My parents never mentioned it. They were embarrassed about their own heritage. Being the loser in history does that to you,” he added wryly.

  “Is there a list around with the names of the Ais on it?”

  Jeffrey grimaced. “No, Jack, there isn’t a list with all the names on it. For one thing, most Ais aren’t pure-blooded anymore. And for another thing, they’re not mutants.
At least, most of them aren’t.”

  The door opened and May came in, holding a tray with steaming mugs of fragrant tea. She handed one to Mamie Hoya, and one to Jack. He took it and sipped it gratefully. The tea felt good. His nerves, never very good since he’d come back to life, were frayed again. He wanted to lie down in a deep bed with Brianna and just forget about all this.

  Jeffrey filled May in with Jack’s sighting, and what the Heart Taker looked like. May’s eyebrows shot up when Jeffrey said Jack had thought he might be the Heart Taker, but she never interrupted or asked questions. When Jeffrey finished, Jack looked at the clock on the wall. Two a.m., way past the witching hour. “What time do you get off duty?” he asked Jeffrey.

  “Three hours ago. I asked May to bring you here though. He rubbed his face. “The Heart Taker will probably strike tonight. I called Brianna on her cell phone when I got your files from May, and after I got over the shock of finding out you were back,” he added. “I appreciate you talking her into staying at Dee’s club in the safe room.”

  Jack thought about Brianna sitting in the safe room, probably planning how to dismember him. He shrugged. “It’s normal. I want to protect her.”

  “Then why do you want her working with you?” Jeffrey asked.

  Jack frowned. “Because I think she’ll be safer if she’s with me until we can catch the Heart Taker, and she was a police officer. She knows procedures I don’t.”

  “She was a damn good officer,” said Jeffrey. He rubbed his face again and Jack thought he looked exhausted. “I want her here tomorrow. It might be best if you tell her all about this place tonight. Here’s your kit. There’s a brochure that tells all about the Mutant and Undead branch of Interpol and about our department, Mutant and Undead Criminal Investigation, but you don’t have to read it all in a day. There’s also a badge, a wooden stake, a silver dagger, and a pass card to get into the front door.” Jeffrey handed Jack a lime green plastic bag with the letters M.U.C.I. stenciled on it in black. It was heavy, and when Jack looked inside it he saw a card, a paperback book, a wooden stake, and a glittery silver dagger.