Horror Sci-Fi Box Set: Three Novels

by Bryan Dunn

  “My guess is Harry and Dr. Tyler are making out on the other side of the iceberg right now,” Boots said with an impish chuckle.

  “Well, all I can say is if they don’t hustle up, they’re going to have to swim –”

  “Look! There they are,” Boots yelled, cutting off Nowhere Man and pointing to the top of the slope. Then he began to wave his arms.

  “Hey!” Amy called back to him.

  “Finally,” Nowhere Man grumbled.

  “Looks like they found something.”

  “Great,” Nowhere Man said with a complete lack of enthusiasm. “Boots, go help them with their gear. I’m going to preflight the bird.”

  Boots hitched up his pants and began clumping across the ice toward Harry and Amy.

  Nowhere Man jumped into the cockpit, and running though a checklist, began flicking switches and turning dials. Outside, the group arrived at the chopper just as the gas turbines began to turn and burn. The keen smell of high-octane jet fuel bloomed in their nostrils, causing Amy to wrinkle her nose.

  Nowhere Man suddenly appeared in the cargo door. “You’re late. What kept you guys?”

  Harry was unlashing the poles from the hunter’s body. He stopped and looked up at Nowhere Man. “You’re not going to believe what we found,” Harry said.

  The tone of his voice made Nowhere Man immediately suspicious. “Well, if it’s not pirate treasure, I don’t think I want to know.”

  “It’s better than gold,” Amy said, sounding just as excited as when they first discovered the body.

  “Now you’ve got me worried,” Nowhere Man said.

  “Have a look at this, you guys.” And Harry pulled back the parka revealing the hunter’s torso – the frozen grin leering up at them.

  “Sonofabitch!” Nowhere Man yelled. He and Boots lurched back in shock.

  “My Lord…” Boots said, his eyes locked onto the body.

  “Jesus Christ, McNills,” Nowhere Man said. “What the hell is that?”

  “Exactly what it looks like,” Harry replied. “Half a frozen man.”

  “Isn’t it fantastic?” Amy chimed in.

  “No, it’s not fantastic. And you’re not putting a rotting corpse in my bird.”

  “That’s no way to speak of the dead, Mr. Nowhere Man,” Amy said defensively.

  “Oh, really… and digging the poor bastard up, robbing his grave, and dragging him across the ice is?”

  “We didn’t dig him up. And we’re not grave robbers, for God’s sake! And this isn’t just some corpse – it’s a significant anthropological find.”

  Harry was smiling now, thinking: give it up, Nowhere. You’ve just slammed into a brick wall and don’t know it. “Just say yes, Nowhere. You’re not going to win.”

  “The hell I will!” Nowhere Man bellowed. “It’s bad luck. It’s desecrating a burial ground or something. No good can come of it.”

  “For your information, it wasn’t a burial ground. It looks like he was attacked and got trapped in the ice and died tragically.”

  “Now you sound like Sherlock Holmes,” Nowhere Man said, shaking his head in disbelief. Then he threw his arms up. “Oh, what the hell… By all means, load him up. We’ll give him the cook’s tour of St. John’s. We can play ‘Weekend At Bernie’s.’ He can buy the first round at the Frozen Coconut.” Nowhere laughed, but it was strained and a little crazy sounding. “I’m probably gonna get court-martialed for this stunt anyway.”

  “Not likely,” Amy said firmly. “Trust me – you’ll be a hero after everybody sees what we found today.”

  “Why do I not feel reassured,” Nowhere Man said grimly. He made his way to the cockpit, then stopped and looked at Amy. “Just make sure he doesn’t start melting in my helicopter.”

  Amy rolled her eyes and flattened her lips. Harry and Boots both laughed.

  Harry reached into the cargo area, pulled out a tarp, and spread it on the ice next to the body. “C’mon Boots, give me a hand…”

  Boots and Harry lifted the hunter into the center of the tarp. Harry grabbed his ice axe and began chipping up pieces of the iceberg. “We’ll pack him in ice so he stays nice and fresh on the trip home.”

  Amy shook her head. “You guys have no respect for your elders.” She stepped up next to Harry and began to help pack the body in ice.

  Boots pulled a bag out of his coat pocket. “Hey, who else could go for a Moon Pie?”

  Silence as Harry and Amy just stared at him. “What –?” Boots said defensively.

  Amy laughed. Harry just shook his head, and they continued preparing the body for the ride home.

  The body was safely stowed in the crew compartment, everyone was on board, and as soon as Harry slid the door shut Nowhere Man powered up the engines. Kicking up snow and ice, the Black Hawk helicopter lifted off the iceberg, banked into the sky, and began racing across the ocean towards St. John’s Airport.

  Nowhere leveled the chopper at three thousand feet and poured on the coals, sending the airspeed shooting up to 140 knots.

  “So what are you going to do with the body, Dr. Tyler?” Boots asked, leaning into the crew compartment.

  Harry held up a finger, silencing Boots, then pointed to Amy. She had her head resting on Harry’s shoulder and was fast asleep. Boots raised his eyebrows and grinned.

  “Yeah, what are you going to do with the stiff, Harry?” Nowhere Man called from the cockpit.

  “Jesus, will you guys hold it down,” Harry hissed, checking to see if Amy was still asleep. “I’m going to call Inspector Hyde,” he continued, trying to whisper. “He’ll know what to do.”

  “Great, just great. The police,” Nowhere Man said dryly. “Leave my name out of it, Harry. I don’t want to be hearing things like misappropriation of government aircraft and court martial.”

  Chapter 16

  Gathered in the lobby of the medical examiner’s office waiting for Inspector Hyde were Harry, Amy, and Lockwood. Lockwood paced nervously, stopped, then checked his watch. That was the fourth time in less than five minutes – Harry had been watching and keeping count. Lockwood began pacing again. Harry looked over at Amy. They exchanged a little smile. “What time do you have, Hayden?” Harry asked, winking at Amy. Ever since Harry had shown Lockwood and Amy that fissure out on the sheet ice, Lockwood had insisted they be on a first name basis.

  Lockwood, acting like he hadn’t just checked his watch two seconds ago, shot his cuff and glanced at the dial. “The Inspector is fifteen minutes late,” he answered tersely. “It’s now –”

  The front door swung open and Inspector Hyde strode in with his overcoat flapping half on, half off.

  “Sorry to have kept you knocking around on your pins,” Hyde said apologetically. “I got held up at HQ.”

  “We really appreciate you including us,” Amy said, not giving Lockwood a chance to complain about his tardiness.

  “Nonsense, Dr. Tyler. It’s you and Mr. McNills I should be thanking.” And then in a gentlemanly gesture, he turned and addressed Lockwood. “Of course, we’re glad to have you here as well, Dr. Lockwood.”

  “Thank you, Inspector,” Lockwood nodded.

  Hyde rubbed his hands together in a gesture of excitement, looking at each of their faces. “Now, let’s go see Henry.”

  He led them through an old-fashioned, wood-framed door with a frosted glass window. Hand painted letters on the glass read: Dr. Henry Chang, Medical Examiner.

  As they entered the examination room, the first thing they noticed was not the expected stench of decomposing flesh and disinfectant, but rather the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

  In the center of the room were two gurneys, each with a covered corpse. Beyond the gurneys, next to the sink, Dr. Henry Chang stood in front of a Pasquini espresso machine, holding a demitasse beneath the gruppa as it filled with the thick-bodied espresso brew.

  When the demitasse was full, he placed it on a saucer, turned, and greeted the group in a chopped Mandarin accent. “Hey, Rolan, look,” Chan
g said. It was always “Rolan” with Chang, not Roland. He never quite made it to the‘d.’

  He held the demitasse up for everyone to see and said, smiling, “The perfect espresso.”

  “Yes, well, it smells very good,” Hyde offered. “Henry, I’d like you to meet –”

  “Pretty Lady, you try,” Chang said, cutting Hyde off and thrusting the espresso at Amy.

  Amy was caught off guard and looked surprised and showed it by laughing nervously as she accepted the demitasse. “Um, thank you.”

  “Look at top!” Chang demanded. “See the crema? See? Beautiful brown.”

  Amy looked down at the espresso and, seeing the creamy brown top, nodded. “Yes, I see it.”

  “Drink, drink,” Chang commanded, then watched carefully as Amy tipped the cup to her lips and took a sip. “Okay, what you think?” Chang asked relentlessly.

  “Delicious,” Amy declared.

  “Ha!” Chang erupted like a delighted child. “Number one! Very good.” Chang said, pronouncing it “Numbah” one.

  Amy nodded and took another quick sip. “It really is delicious.”

  Chang turned to the others. “When we through with show and tell,” he waved a hand through the air, “Chang gonna make everyone espresso drink.” Then he broke into a broad smile.

  “Well, I think this must be a first – an M.E. and a barista,” Lockwood said. “Mr. Chang, if it’s possible for you to produce a decaf version I’d be delighted to sample your espresso.”

  “Decaf? No way.” Chang scrunched up his face and almost sounded insulted. “Decaf fo wimps.”

  “Well, in that case you can make mine a double, Dr. Chang.” Harry said, enjoying the fun at Lockwood’s expense.

  “Okay boss,” Chang smiled at Harry. Then he turned, looking directly at Lockwood. “Hey, what barista?”

  “It’s a compliment, Dr. Chang. A barista is someone who excels in the art of espresso making.”

  Chang pointed at his chest. “Numbah one barista,” he said, filled with pride.

  “Okay, Henry, how about we have a look at those bodies now?”

  “Yeah, sure, Rolan. What you think – I got all day to be barista?”

  “I was starting to wonder…” Hyde said with a chuckle.

  “You know better than that, Rolan,” Chang said. Then, as if walking onto a stage, his whole demeanor dramatically changed, and he was suddenly the consummate professional.

  Chang’s movements were quick and economical as he slipped on two sets of latex gloves, drew a surgical mask up over his nose, and approached the gurneys. Reaching up, he switched on an overhead light and then with a bullfighter’s flair, flicked his wrist – and the bodies were instantly uncovered.

  “Henry is going to give us a quick, off-the-record opinion as to any similarities in the wounds found on the two bodies. Then I’ve promised we’d let him alone so he can conduct a proper autopsy,” Hyde said as they watched Chang moving around the bodies.

  “Okay. We got two male bodies – both mutilated,” Chang began. “One missing head, arms, and entire torso – the other missing pelvic girdle, legs, and feet.” He stopped, looked up at the group. “Hey, maybe Chang put them together, get whole new man.”

  No one spoke. The room filled with a grim silence. Disapproving faces stared back at Chang’s drooping smile.

  He held up his hands apologetically. “Okay, maybe Chang not so funny.” He lowered his head, resuming his examination, concentrating on the hunter’s body.

  After a few grunts and much prodding, Chang said:

  “By the condition of the teeth and general wear-and-tear, I’m guessing the hunter you found to be about thirty years of age.” Chang picked up a pair of tweezers and began probing the chest cavity. “Connective tissues still fully viable, bone and tissue well preserved.” He pulled back a flap of ragged, torn flesh with the tweezers and leaned closer for a better look. He then moved to Porter’s body and examined a bit of flayed flesh stuck to the pelvis. “Okay. Wounds and tears in flesh consistent with both bodies. Chang positive on this.”

  “Henry –” Hyde stepped forward and handed Chang a plastic evidence bag containing hair samples. “These hairs were recovered from Porter’s body – we’d like you to see if the hunter’s corpse contains any of the same hairs. A visual examination revealed none.”

  Chang took the bag, studied the hairs, then looked at Hyde and smashed his lips together. “Sure, okay. If hair there, Chang will find.” He then slipped on a pair of glasses with powerful magnifiers glued to the lenses.

  They watched as Chang began a thorough search of the hunter’s torso. Starting with the head he worked his way down, lifting a flap of flesh or a piece of clothing until he ran out of body.

  After his initial search, Chang had come up empty-handed.

  “No luck, eh doctor?” Lockwood said.

  “Chang not finish yet,” he said dismissively. He removed his glasses, put down the tweezers, moved up to the hunter, and gripped the head firmly – articulating the jaw. Then he picked up a penlight, slipped on the magnifying glasses, and began to probe the oral cavity. His movements suddenly stopped. He leaned closer for a better look.

  “Ha!” Chang yelled victoriously. He put down the penlight, grabbed the tweezers, and retrieved a hair that was wrapped around one of the hunter’s eye-teeth.

  Chang placed the hair in a small glass tray. Then he removed the hair from the evidence bag and placed that in another tray, comparing the two.

  Seconds later he blurted, “Both same,” as if the matter were closed forever.

  “I knew it!” Amy said, too excited to remain silent.

  “Mind if we have a look?” Lockwood asked in a challenging tone.

  “Yeah, sure, go ahead,” Chang said, yanking his medical mask down around his neck and smiling broadly. “But Chang right.”

  “You’re awfully confident for being in a business that relies so heavily on guesswork,” Lockwood said, comparing the two hairs.

  “Chang have two good eyes.”

  After the others had a chance to examine the hairs and were satisfied they matched, Chang stripped off his gloves and smiled at the group. “Okay, who want espresso?”

  Chapter 17

  Harry, Amy, Lockwood, and Inspector Hyde were sitting in the formal dining room of the Freemont Hotel. Lockwood was seated at the head of the table, holding court, and looked like he was clearly enjoying himself. It was late, after midnight, and they were the last party left in a sea of white tablecloths and crystal glassware. Outside the night was crisp and clear, and a full moon gave them a spectacular view of Signal Hill and the harbor below.

  Lockwood, filled with California Pinot Noir was ebullient and charming as he explained the differences between lowland and highland scotches. When the lecture concluded, he lined up four whisky glasses and filled them with thirty-year-old Macallan highland scotch. He then reached into his coat, removed a leather case, and offered the table a cigar.

  Lockwood smiled and said, “Cuban. Montecristos. Obscenely expensive.”

  “Delighted. Thank you, Dr. Lockwood,” the inspector said, eagerly accepting one of the prizes.

  Lockwood held the case out to Harry and Amy.

  “Why not,” Harry said, sliding one of the cigars out of the case. “Nothing like having a ten dollar cigar after a five hundred dollar meal.”

  “Ten dollars wouldn’t pay for the cigar band, Mr. McNills,” corrected Lockwood.

  Amy, feeling the effects of too much wine, said, “What the heck, you only live once.” She retrieved one of the robustos and ran it beneath her nose. “Okay, who’s got some fire?”

  Everyone looked at Amy and then began to laugh. Inspector Hyde yelled, “Bravo, Dr. Tyler!”

  After the cigars were clipped and lighted, they puffed away until each cigar tip was a glowing circle of red. Only Amy seemed a little tentative about drawing in the pungent smoke. The cigar looked huge and unwieldy in her hand.

  Inspector Hyde seemed
to be in a trance and looked as though he’d achieved some personal nirvana. After a couple more puffs, he held the cigar up to his eyes and nodded reverentially.

  Amid the clouds of aromatic Cuban tobacco smoke, Lockwood raised his glass and looked at Amy. “To Amy and her iceberg.”

  Harry and the inspector raised their glasses, joining Lockwood in a toast. Amy smiled and lifted her glass.

  “I’ll drink to that,” Harry said. Everybody clinked glasses and took a sip of scotch.

  “And, all agree we must return to that iceberg tomorrow,” Lockwood said, raising his voice.

  “Yes,” Inspector Hyde nodded. “After what Dr. Tyler observed, a return trip –”

  “Hey, I was there too,” Harry said, interrupting loudly. “What about my observations?”

  Inspector Hyde held up his hands apologetically. “Forgive me. After what Dr. Tyler and Mr. McNills observed,” the inspector said, emphasizing the ‘Mr. McNills.’

  “Thank you,” Harry said smiling at the inspector. “Just want to keep the record straight.”

  “I stand corrected,” the inspector allowed. “And unfortunately, I will not be able to join you on the return trip. The investigation into the wreck of the Ice Machine will keep me busy in the office all next week.” The inspector looked down at his cigar, then raised it to his lips and began puffing away.

  Lockwood removed the cigar from his mouth and held it in his fingers, jabbing at the air while he spoke. “Well, I for one can’t wait to get out there.”

  Harry took a puff on his cigar and blew a stream of smoke in Lockwood’s direction. “Sounds like you just signed on to a wild goose chase, Hayden.”

  Lockwood sighted down the barrel of his cigar at Harry, took a couple of quick puffs, removed the cigar, and let the smoke drift out of his mouth – all the while keeping Harry fixed with his stare. The table was silent, and then Lockwood finally spoke: