Bear Outlaw

by Candace Ayers

  Lillian was surprised by his answer. “If this were some kind of a killing ground, I’d think the turn-around would be pretty high. You’ve been here for three years,” Lillian said, trying to sound confident. His voice grew quiet, “You haven’t heard the things I’ve heard. This is a bad place,” Armond said—more to himself than to Lillian.

  Suddenly a slot opened up in her ceiling and a small bag dropped down. The bag contained a bottle of water and some kind of sandwich. “I just got some food,” Lillian said to Armond. “Smell it first,” he said. “Sometimes they use the food to drug you, and when that happens people don’t usually come back.”

  Lillian lowered her nose to the sandwich inside the plastic baggie. It smelled like some kind of disgusting bologna. There was no mustard and no mayonnaise—just a single piece of lunchmeat slapped between two dry pieces of stale bread. Lillian could smell the preservative in the meat, and the salt…but there was nothing that had a decisively chemical scent to it, and so she bit into the sandwich impulsively.

  The water was a bit more suspect. The plastic seal around the lid of the water bottle was already broken, and the water had a strange taste to it. Had Lillian been able to see in the darkness, she might have been able to read the brand of the water—thereby helping her make some determinations about her location.

  As Lillian munched down on her sandwich, she asked more questions. “Do they ever turn the lights on?” she asked. Armond coughed in the darkness. His cough sounded faraway and desolate. “Don’t eat all of your food at once. I know it’s tempting, but you need to ration your food and water. It could be days before they come back,” he said. His words seemed to spring her back into reality. She had already consumed over half of the sandwich, but she stuffed the remainder back into the plastic bag. “If you leave a little piece out, you might be able to catch a rat for extra protein,” Armond sighed again. Lillian thought of Caleb. Surely, he would know what to do. At the very least, she would feel safe enclosed in his muscular arms.

  When Caleb saw the envelop with the photo of Lillian inside of it, his mind went into a panic. Obviously, she had been kidnapped—but who had done this, and why? Was all of this happening because of the stupid Chachi mystery? It didn’t make any sense. There had to be something more. Lillian hadn’t done anything to anyone. Was someone using her to try and make him suffer? A multitude of questions whirled through his head.

  Caleb sat down at the kitchen table and clutched the photograph. She’d only been gone for a few hours, which ruled many places out geographically speaking. Even if they had traveled away by plane, only a smattering of places were so nearby. This ruled Europe and various other continents out.

  Caleb studied the photo. His eyes kept being drawn back to Lillian’s battered face. Though her eyelids were slightly parted, she didn’t look conscious in the photo. The photo had been taken outside. There were a few plants. Maybe if he could identify the plants that would give him a better idea of her location. Also, in the photo it was dark—yet 2 hours hadn’t been enough time for Lillian to cross into a different time zone. Moreover, it was a Polaroid—which meant that the photograph had been taken at her exact location, and then brought back to the kitchen table. She was nearby. The round-trip had been made in less than 2 hours, which meant Lillian was probably somewhere very close, and more than likely still alive.

  Caleb racked his brain thinking of solutions. In order to find out where Lillian was, it would certainly help to know why she was taken. Caleb brought the photo into the living room and collapsed onto the sofa. Why would someone kidnap her? The word “checkmate” at the bottom of the photo definitely hinted that the motive was personal. Was there someone who had a recent grudge with him? Maybe an old adversary? Caleb’s stomach flipped over and seemed to turn sour. He didn’t have many enemies in this dimension, but in the ghost-world, he had made more adversaries than he could even count. There was something about the timing of it that didn’t sit right with him. First, the little boy—the mess with Chachi, and now this? Was it possible that everything could be related somehow? Caleb reached over to the telephone. He was going to have to call in a few friends at the department for help with this one, and he didn’t want to waste any time. The experts needed to start analyzing the photograph right away. Caleb pulled the phone up to his ear.

  When he did so, the line was dead. Caleb looked around, scanning the room for a weapon. He’d assumed that the kidnappers had meant to take only Lillian…yet now a terrible possibility slowly descended upon him. The word “checkmate” might have been intended for him. He might be the one in fatal danger. Caleb’s heart raced.

  Caleb usually carried some kind of Department 99 weaponry. It was very rare for him to be in any situation without at least a gun holstered around his waist, yet here he was. No gun downstairs. The gun was upstairs next to a pile of crumpled up clothes, and had been thrown off and tossed aside in the heat of passion last night. Caleb held his breath for a moment as the sound of soft footsteps approached.

  Lillian had learned more about Armond than she had ever known about anyone. Unfortunately, there was really nothing to do in collective basement cells except to talk. Mostly, Armond seemed happy to have a kind ear. Though he’d been in the basement for over three years, he’d seen other guests come and go. Unfortunately, he’d spent the better part of the last six months locked up alone.

  A thought suddenly occurred to Lillian. “Who was in this cell before I was brought here?” She asked him through the plywood wall. Armond paused a while, and for a minute it didn’t seem as though he was willing to answer her question. “It was a young boy,” Armond finally said. Lillian’s stomach flipped over. A young boy? What kind of ruthless organization would capture a young boy and keep him in such horrible conditions? “They said they were releasing him into the killing fields and then, he was gone. I heard him screaming as they were carrying him off. It was terrible. He was shouting for his father and for me. I never heard his voice again after that.” “Do you remember the boy’s name?” Lillian asked. She felt guilty for pressing Armond for more information. Talking about this situation was clearly bringing him a great amount of pain, yet she had no choice. If they were going to survive, she needed as much information as possible.

  “The boy told me that his name was Lucas. He said that his mother had worked for some kind of department, hunting supernatural entities, but in reality, I think he’d gone insane. Something like that couldn’t possibly exist,” Armond stated blandly. Lillian’s stomach leapt up into her chest. She doubled over and threw up the few bites of sandwich that she had managed to swallow earlier. Whoever had kidnapped her, almost certainly had some kind of connection to Department 99. The connection to Department 99 and Armond’s wife, made Lillian think that this was related to Chachi somehow. Lillian lay back on the cool floor, trying to put all of the pieces together. She could hear Armond humming a tune to himself on the other side of the wall.

  Lillian closed her eyes. Her thoughts wandered back to Caleb. His body had felt so good pressed against her own. She wondered what he was doing. He was probably rallying the troupes at Department 99, perhaps getting a team ready to come and find her. Then, Lillian’s eyes blinked open. She thought about the phrase that Armond had used earlier to describe where the young boy whose cell she now occupied had been taken: the killing fields.

  Caleb grabbed a paperweight up off of the table. He clutched it in his strong fist, ready to kill whoever rounded the corner and entered the living room. The footsteps were moving slowly and had almost reached a stop near the entrance to the room where he was located. Caleb’s back was pressed up against the wall and his heart hammered away within his chest. Finally, the footsteps stopped. It was now or never.

  Caleb leapt from behind the wall and tackled the figure in the frame, sending him clattering to the floor. Caleb was drunk with fear and just started to punch the person’s head repeatedly, until eventually, a vague sort of recognition took hold. It was Killian Marshall—o
ne of Department 99’s best agents. Killian was also a vampire. Killian pushed forward, knocked Caleb off of him, and sent him sprawling onto the ground with a loud thump.

  “If you’re behind this, vampire,” Caleb spat. “I got called out here because the department has been trying to reach both you and Lillian for the last hour. The agency is on lock-down. Someone stole a disease sample from the lab.” Killian barked.

  Caleb had never liked Killian, but his story certainly made sense. In addition, even though Caleb couldn’t stand him, there was no question that Killian was always on the up and up. He cared about human beings more than anyone Caleb had ever met.

  Caleb shoved the photo of Lillian into Killian’s hand. Killian made a panicked face for a moment, and then brought the photo up to his nose. Caleb hadn’t noticed, but there were a few drops of blood on the back of the photo. Killian started to sniff the drops of blood intensely. “You’re looking for two separate guys. One is a snake shifter, and the other is human…but he’s dying of liver failure.” Killian reached down to the radio at his waist and called a few orders in to those back at the base. The hunt was on.

  Caleb wasted no time. Even if he didn’t really have much of an idea of what was going on, snake shifters tended to live near small bodies of water. He had a hunch that he knew where to look.

  Lillian’s face still ached, but strangely enough, she forced herself to smile. If anyone could find her, it would be Caleb. She closed her eyes again, envisioning his touch. She had felt so safe, so perfectly content in his arms as her body writhed beneath his muscular frame. She never imagined that she’d fall for a bear shifter, but Caleb was unlike so many of the other shifters. Sure, he was tough and strong, but he also had a sensitive side—a certain kindness about him.

  Caleb ran past Killian, almost knocking him over. “You douche-bag!” Killian called back as he struggled to regain his footing. Caleb was sprinting towards Killian’s black car, which was still running. He jumped inside and sped away, leaving a trail of brown dust, and a cussing Killian spitting in his direction. “You stupid cave-dweller!” Killian screamed, as Caleb sped away.

  Theft wasn’t really Caleb’s style, but if he wanted to save Lillian, he needed to act quickly. Caleb tried to access the touch-screen in Killian’s car. All of the agents had electronic address books, which could be accessed via email. If he could hack into Lillian’s email account, he might be able to take a peek at her address book, and maybe even her calendar. Finally, the miniature computer connected to the Department 99 server. Caleb typed in Lillian’s email address and then paused when he reached the password line. He had no idea what Lillian might use for a password.

  First, he tried her date of birth. A red X appeared on the screen. You have two more attempts remaining, a recorded voice announced. It was a pathetic attempt, but next Caleb typed in the word ghost. She was good with ghosts, good with the supernatural. The red X appeared again. Caleb screamed for a moment and punched at the dashboard. Then, in a sheer fit of rage he typed in his own name and the screen unlocked.

  “I’ll be damned,” Caleb thought. Lillian’s crush on him must have gone deeper than he realized. His name was her password. How cute…and also slightly creepy…but mostly cute.

  Finally, he had access to her emails. There were a few messages from her superiors about various missions and expeditions—an invitation to a company party next week. Caleb flipped to view her contact book and calendar. There was an address, and the word Carrie stamped above the date. He had a solid lead.

  Caleb punched the address into the GPS and sped off to find Carrie; whoever that was.

  Lillian was shivering on the floor now. Her captors hadn’t bothered to give her any kind of blanket and the room was becoming unbearably cold. “How do you manage to live in this place?” Lillian asked Armond. “How do you keep yourself warm at night?” Lillian asked. “Oh, you learn a few tricks here and there. None of them are really very pleasant, but I guess the fact that I’m still alive counts for something—even though there’s no one for me to go home to.” Armond said quietly. “Are you rationing your water like I told you to?” Armond asked. “Yes, I am.” Lillian responded. “Is the floor over there still made of dirt in some spots?” Armond asked. Lillian was surprised by the question. She hadn't paid much attention to the floor.

  Now, Lillian started to feel around. There were many cracks, that much was certain. It was definitely tile in some sections, and some of the tile was peeled away and Armond was right—there was dirt. “It will take a while with that flimsy crap you've got over there, but you’ll need to dig yourself two things. First, dig yourself a latrine in an area that you don’t like. Second, dig yourself a little bed. You’ll be able to crawl in if you can get deep enough, then at night you can cover yourself up with some of the dirt. It won’t be like a five-star motel, but you’ll survive.” Armond coughed. Immediately Lillian got to work, digging with her hands.

  When Caleb arrived at Carrie’s house, the place was in terrible disarray. He hadn’t even bothered to knock because the door was virtually torn from hinges. When Caleb had arrived, it was simply swinging back and forth with the wind. As he stepped inside, he called Lillian’s name. It made no sense, of course, but he still did it. The house had a strange smell; the smell of death.

  Caleb started to look around. There were cats everywhere, and by the look of it, the animals were very distressed. An orange tabby cat rubbed itself against his legs. Caleb reached down and scratched behind the cat’s ears. “What happened here?” He asked the cat, who only purred in response. Then, the cats were coming out from many different directions—looking for affection, and food. There was a small cat in the corner of the room that was beige colored and Caleb noticed a smattering of blood around its mouth. A few of the cats had blood in their fir.

  Caleb drew a weapon that he had removed from Killian’s car, and took a deep breath. He gathered his reserve and readied himself to fight. Caleb rounded the corner. He had expected to find some kind of enemy, but instead he found 40 or 50 cats eating at the corpse of an old woman. “Get away from that! Get away from her!” Caleb yelled, trying to shoo the cats away. Yet, they feasted on the body without remorse, and would not be deterred. Caleb inched his way closer, the body of an elderly woman lay crumpled up on the floor. The cats had eaten her face away and most of her shoulders and arms.

  Caleb rushed from the house and back into the front yard. He threw up violently next to the sidewalk. He could only think of Lillian. Lillian was in danger and he felt powerless and weak. Suddenly, a little child walked by bouncing a basketball in front of him. The boy smiled at him in a way that Caleb recognized—the child was possessed. The boy continued down the road and Caleb followed, keeping a safe distance. The child rounded back into an alleyway, and suddenly the thump of the basketball against the pavement stopped. “I know who you are,” Caleb called. The boy laughed in response- clearly toying with him. “I want you to tell me where Lillian is. If you can help me, I might be able to help you.”

  The boy stepped out into the alleyway; his eyes were dark and menacing. “I won’t allow you to help this child, Caleb.” A deep voice spoke from the mouth of the youngster. “You’ve already been such a nuisance.” Caleb jumped forward and seized the boy by the shoulders. Irrationally, Caleb shook the child. The child kept repeating the same phrase over and over.” You’ve already been such a nuisance…you’ve already been such a nuisance…” “Shut up!” Caleb screamed.

  “You tell me where she is! Tell me right now,” Caleb shouted. An old woman stepped out into the alleyway carrying a shovel. “Is something going on here? What is this?” the woman asked. The possessed child winced and started to cry. “He hit me!” The boy screamed, lying. “Get your hands off that child!” The old woman demanded. “I didn’t hit him. I shook him a little, but I never hit him.” The woman pulled a cell phone out of her pocket pressed it to her ear. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’m calling the authorities. Come here so
n,” she said to the boy, with her arms outstretched. Caleb immediately got in between them. “Don’t touch him ma’am,” Caleb said. “The kid has a demon inside of him, and that’s how it jumps from person-to-person. Don’t make physical contact.” Caleb warned. The woman spoke into her cell phone. “There’s a man out here behind my house. He just assaulted a little boy and now he’s talking about demons jumping around in people’s bodies. I think he might be schizophrenic or maybe he’s high on some kind of drug.” The woman said. Caleb rolled his eyes. This was the last thing he needed.

  The woman flipped the phone closed. “Police are going to be here in about five minutes. If you don’t want any trouble, I’d suggest you run,” she said to Caleb. Immediately he recognized the look in her eyes—she was possessed too.

  Caleb tore off in the direction of the car. He was too late; a police car was screeching its way down the lane in his direction. Caleb decided to make a run for it on foot. He jumped a nearby fence, and slammed into some clothes, which had been hung out to dry. Even still, Caleb refused to slow down. He ran at top speed, pumping his arms and legs back-and-forth. The sirens faded as he put more distance between himself and the cops. It was a narrow escape, but at least he made it.

  Lillian continued to dig. The earth was hard and cold, and it took a tremendous amount of time to just break the surface. A thought occurred to Lillian in that moment. If the earth was pliable enough to dig a sleeping hole, why couldn’t she try and dig her way out? Lillian remembered the broken tile at the opposite end of the room. She felt her way over there and started to dig using the tile this time—it was much more effective. When she’d tired herself out, she went and sat back down next to the plywood wall.