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Purge of the Vampires (Book 1): Never Wake the Dead

Page 13

by Bajaña, Edgar


  With Charlene in his life, he was determined to change and everything else in his world would follow.

  "Tell me damn it!"

  "Charlene, there's a woman whose gone missing."

  "And? Do you know how many people go missing in this city, everyday."

  "She going to die and there is nothing that I can do about it."

  "Who?"

  "I can't really say."

  "When?"

  "I don't know when or where. But, there is nothing I can do to stop it. She's as good as dead."

  "My father didn't say anything about this to me. What is it, some kind of stalker case, that the precinct picked up? How do you know, James?"

  James looked over at the full length mirror and he saw his eyes glowing with the light of the moon.

  "Charlene, you hadn't heard of this case because I just found out myself."

  "When?"

  "Tonight."

  "You spoke to him before I got here? Why would he even call you?"

  "No, Charlene. Your father doesn't even know about this case yet."

  "Then, how do you know?"

  "The case came to me, tonight, as I tossed and turned in my sleep."

  "You can't be serious."

  "I am serious. It was more like a vision, Charlene."

  "God damn it James! Your not a detective. Your just a clerk, a lowly clerk."

  "But..."

  "I don't want to hear it. Stay with me James. I do love you. But, don't go into that world! What about me? What about us?"

  "I don't have a choice Charlene."

  "If you go, I'm gone."

  "But, I have to make sure that she has a good death. I have to make sure that she can move in to the next world and leave me alone in peace.”

  Charlene walked over to the dinner table.

  "Charlene?"

  Her black dress hung on the back of a chair and she snatched up.

  "I have to make sure that her soul doesn't spend an eternity in darkness, Charlene."

  Charlene put on her black dress and slipped into her black sneakers. The whole time, she ignored James.

  He's not right. He needs help, she thought. But I can't stay. I can't give into his delusion.

  "Charlene, I have to make sure that nothing happens to her. Please believe me. Come back."

  Charlene stormed to the front door of the loft, unlocked it and hung by the door, before it closed.

  "I have to help her, Charlene."

  She turned back to look at James through the crack of the steel door.

  "Why James?"

  "Because.”

  Charlene slammed the door on him. She didn't want to hear another word from James. All she heard was him rationalizing madness. There was nothing that she could do to help him. It was useless. It was over between them.

  "because...I have to make sure that nothing happens to you,"

  Charlene hung by the window of his loft in the dark, thinking of James last words.

  "I have to try, Charlene. Even if you no longer love me. I have to try."

  As Charlene looked outside his window, she watched James cross Second Avenue and get into his car. His car disappear down the block, heading for the Queens Borough Bridge, back to Queens

  As James drove back to Queens down an empty street, he thought about his dream. He thought about the dark figures lurking inside the cemetery feeding off of Violet’s spirit and keeping her in an eternal darkness. If he didn't try to help her, he was afraid that his nightmare was true.

  The thought terrified him.

  Driving across the Queensborough Bridge, James looked back at the city in his rear view mirror. He lived in New York City surrounded by the glow of a million lights. Even though he lived in one of the largest cities in the world, he always felt alone.

  Now was no different.

  The radio buzzed with life. It was the chief.

  “James, we found another address related to the property of the abandoned house where we found the serial killer dumping site.”

  “When are you going in?”

  “Now.”

  16

  Noche de la Negra

  La Negra wasn’t just a mad woman. She was the queen of her little circle of customers, girls and those that hid from the light. She was a fortuneteller with a particular set of skills, a set of skills that rocketed her to the top of her business. La Negra was her name. But the Coyotes called her Mother.

  On the night that Iris disappeared, two Coyotes drove toward Long Island City at the exact time that La Negra told them. They turned off of 26th street and headed toward a white mini van parked in the middle of expansive parking lot. It was the same van that picked up Iris. It was the same parking lot where the Beast took her.

  The two men found, what looked like an empty van. The doors on the passenger and driver side were left wide open. Both men climbed out with shotguns and carefully walked toward the vehicle. One held a flashlight and pointed it at the open door.

  There was blood on the window that was partly rolled up. There was blood on the seat.

  On the floor of the car of the front seat, there was Iris. The Coyote shined the light on her face and she breathed erratically, hyperventilating. She was naked and scared out of her mind.

  One man scoped out the rest of the car, while the other made sure that Iris was okay. With his fingers, he moved her hair and it was wet with blood. There was blood flowing from her neck.

  “Shit. This asshole bit her neck.”

  “What!”

  “She’s hurt.”

  One of the men ripped one of the sleeves off his shirt and wrapped it around Iris’s neck.

  Once he made sure that Iris was no longer bleeding, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her out of the car. They grabbed Iris, covering her with their coats and moved her from one car into the other.

  “Don’t worry baby. We’ll bring you back home. Don’t worry,” said the Coyote.

  On the second floor of La Negra’s house, Iris laid in a small twin bed mattress without any sheets. Sweat ran over her face. Her body was wrapped in only a white towel. It was raining outside, while La Negra and the Coyote stood over her, watching her shiver in the small room, that used to be Violet’s old room.

  La Negra and the Coyote stared at Iris who laid on the bed with a bandage around her neck. Outside the bedroom, two more Coyotes stood outside the bedroom door, as if they were guarding the door.

  She was a good girl, thought La Negra. She’ll be okay.

  “She was there like you said, Negra. Our boys didn’t find anyone with her, though.”

  “But what happened to her neck?”

  “I don’t know. But, the guy she was with, attacked her.”

  La Negra looked over the two puncture wounds,

  “No man did this,” she said.

  “Why do you care about these girls all of a sudden?”

  “Looking for a clue to find this killer. Don’t you read the paper?”

  “What?”

  “Something is attacking these girls, taking them at night.”

  “So.”

  “Let me put this way. Someone is responsible for messing with our product. If we don’t have a product, we don’t have a business. Since Violet’s been gone, business has been terrible and now, we are down to one girl. We have to protect our business. The money I made off of Violet’s memorial isn’t going to last that much longer.”

  “Then, hold another fundraiser.”

  Negra looked under Iris’s bandage and saw two puncture wounds on her neck. She caressed her cheek and felt that she was burning up.

  “What was she doing?” asked Negra.

  “I told you not to put her out there. With everything that has been happening, it just isn’t smart business.”

  The Coyote said nothing.

  “Anyways, did you see him?” asked Negra

  “Who?”

  “The john.”

  “No. The bastard was gone before we got there.


  La Negra was silent for a moment, while the Coyote spoke into his cell phone. Through the night, La Negra sat next to Iris, checking her cheek and her forehead. Her fever was getting worse.

  “You’ll get better. The doctor is coming soon.”

  La Negra stroke her hair thinking about how she had to keep Iris alive, until she found out what attacked her. After that, it was another story all together.

  It was morning when La Negra opened the front door of her house. She looked into the street and knew that the man who killed Violet and attacked Iris was still out there, somewhere. The street was quiet, with birds chirping in the distance. She looked at a row of parked cars. In a black sedan, there was a man in a black cowboy hat. She glanced at one of her body guards and he waved at her.

  La Negra waved back.

  Then, she looked down at the newspaper on her porch. She picked it up and her heart filled-up with despair, as she stood on her front porch. “Oh god,” she said with her hand pressed against her heart. The front page headline of the Queens Gazette said it all, “Another bag found on Queens Boulevard.”

  It was Violet. She knew it.

  La Negra closed the front door and went over to the living room to sit in her grandmother’s rocking chair. She rocked back and forth, soothing herself. The newspaper sat in her lap and the headline still did not lose it’s impact.

  There was a time when she thought that Violet might still be alive. But, she didn’t think so any more. Without Violet to keep her company, she felt alone.

  Her phone rang and she slipped it out of her bra. It was Luella.

  “As you read this morning, they found number 9.”

  “Do you know what was the body part they found this time?”

  “Yeah, it was a head.”

  “Is it her? Is it Violet.”

  “No.”

  “Thank god and thank you, Luella, for telling me what the police won’t.”

  “Of course, Negra. I’m on your side.”

  “Thank you,”

  Luella was one of the best people that La Negra met during this who ordeal. She trusted her in a way she couldn’t trust the Coyote.

  There was no way that she would give up on trying to find Violet. She couldn’t because her life depended on it. There was no way she was going to make it, if her part of the business kept losing flowers to the night.

  What was out there plucking these girls from the street?

  At night, Negra opened the attic door and Iris was just waking up. Orange street light sliced the room in two. Maria told the guards to step aside, she opened the door to find Iris standing naked in the middle of the room. her skin was pale white. The bandage was wrapped around her neck.

  Iris walked over to Maria. She looked frail and fell into Maria’s arms.

  “My girl,” said Maria “Who did this to you?”

  “Help me.”

  “Don’t worry, no one is going to hurt you here.”

  Iris’s eyes opened wide. “What do you mean? He wasn’t trying to hurt me.”

  Maria looked at the cuts on her arms, chest. Her eyes lingered on Iris’s neck, as she changed Iris’s bandage.

  At Night, Maria Vargas came back down and sat in the living room. Iris would be fine for another hour, or so. She sat by the window of her house with the shades down. From the street, passer-by could see her dark silhouette from the sidewalk. From time to time, they would catch her crying. She tended to cry whenever she reviewed the papers at night. However, Maria did not shed one tear.

  The world was wicked indeed. She picked up the New York Times and and flipped through the newsprint. From a quick glance at the headlines, she saw that everything in the world was going to hell. The middle east was in all out war. The Pacific Ocean was being contaminated radioactive water of a melted down nuclear power plant in Japan. People in California were running out of water and the wildfires raging through California were now a planetary event that could be seen from space.

  Then, she looked at the paper. Again the headline screamed at her. Again, She snatches it off the table and dove into it.

  The Boulevard of Death

  A body part wrapped in a black garbage bag was found this morning in the long Island City. Detectives have been assigned to the case and continue their investigations. According to an eye witnesses, there was a man walking his dog who was the first to discover the black bag on the sidewalk.

  “I thought the black bag was part of the rest of the trash on the side walk. I had no idea there was a body part in the trash. Until, my dog kept making a fuss over one particular bag. At first I didn’t understand it. But, I humored him for a moment and he grabbed the black bag and it rolled off the pile. Then, I took closer look and was complete shocked by what I just realized. It’s a human body part. That is all that I can say. I promised the police that i would keep the details under wraps.”

  Since this case is still under investigation by the police department, the eye witness says that it would be improper to tell the media which body part it was.

  “Another damn girl,” said Maria Vargas. “And the cops can’t find this maniac.”

  Maria threw the paper on the rest of them, laying on the floor of the living room. She add it to all the other newspapers that she bought to look for some kind of clue to finding Violet or her killer.

  Maria looked everyday through a pile of tabloid newspapers for any word of Violet. There was a chance that she was still alive. There had to be.

  17

  Children of the Serpent

  Detective James Night rode in the back of a black NYPD swat van, careening from side to side, racing down Queens Boulevard. It passed the Queens Mall in Woodside heading south toward Sunnyside.

  There was a chance that the Beast could be there. There was still a chance. He knew that the sound of the police could never match the sound of the beast.

  The sirens and emergency lights came and went, as the van and several SUVs swerved around all the cars throughout the center express lane, lit by a row of orange street lamps.

  Inside the truck, James took off his blue trench coat and strapped on a bulletproof vest with a silver badge on his chest. His red gun was holstered to his leg. The other three cops wore jeans and slacks. Each of them checked their M-15 rifles and everything was locked into place. Then, they passed around black masks and pulled them over their faces.

  The cop next to James offered a mask. But, James declined. He didn’t see the point. It wasn’t like they were going after trained terrorists.

  Then again, James wondered if it was a kind of supernatural terrorist that he was up against this time. It could be anything, when nothing like this has happened to him before.

  For a moment, he wondered why Violet’s spirit continued on pass her three days.

  He glanced at all the officers who sat across from him and he felt sorry for them. They were good friends, mostly. However in times like these, he felt like he didn’t know them at all. He stared at their eyes and they all looked dead and empty inside.

  Then, one cop who was meant to secure the apartment building spoke to James, “Detective Night. How did you do it?”

  “How did I do what?”

  “How did you find the suspect’s location? Did a ghost tell you there were dead bodies in the basement of that abandoned house?”

  Some of the cops in the van laughed.

  How callous, James thought. The bodies in that basement were all female, victims of something so malevolent that…

  The were all defense women. At least, that was what he heard from Chief Harris after they pulled him off the dig. James never got a chance to see for himself all the bodies. He wanted to see, if Violet and Jesse Torres was down there too. In the end, the FBI ended up telling the chief that they weren’t among the dead.

  Digging out those bodies was hard work that dragged on, until the following day. When the FBI relieved James, they had uncovered six bodies. He never got a chance to see the seventh and eight bo
dy that the FBI recovered.

  In the end, the FBI took over the entire crime scene and collected evidence, without giving James a chance to look at much of anything. Until now the FBI had also not allowed him to see any of the severed body parts that were recovered from the street. James was pissed about that, too. But there wasn’t much that he could do about it. There wasn’t much that Chief Harris could do either. Their hands were tied by the federal government.

  All James knew was that there were eight dead bodies sealed underneath a foot of concrete for the last three nights. He wondered if any of the girls were from south of the boarder. There was a chance that Violet’s body was among them.

  “So, how do you know, Detective Night? Did a ghost tell you about those bodies in the basement?”

  “It wasn’t a ghost,” responded James.

  “Then, what?”

  “A dog.”

  Then, Detective Snyder interjected, the team leader for securing the building. James was responsible for securing the apartment, “Okay, everyone. We are 5 mins away from the suspect’s location. Keep your eyes open.”

  However, James had something that the other cops did not. He had Violet and she was already there, checking out the scene. However, he was a little worry that she would overlook something.

  The black van led the caravan of police trucks off Queens Boulevard. They were headed to an apartment building at the end of 46th street, that sat next to the Sunnyside Rail Yard.

  James wasn’t really sure what he would find, once he got there. When he looked up the ownership of the abandoned house in Woodside with a buried bodies in the basement, he found out that it was owned by a shell corporation, called Vital Industries.

  When James researched the corporation, it turned out that the business only existed on paper, and not until recently. Then, James cross referenced the name with the real estate tax rolls and he located another piece of property that was owned by the same corporation.

 

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