by CC Dragon
“De, wake up!” someone shouted.
I sat up in bed so fast Tish woke up, meowed, and rolled over in her sleep. Crazy cat.
Someone was banging on my door.
I shuffled over and opened it. “What?”
“Escalated,” Matt said.
“I’ll get dressed.” I pulled on jeans under my nightshirt and closed the door before I did any more. In the bathroom, I scared myself. Tossing and turning had my hair looking like the Bride of Frankenstein.
I brushed it into submission and clipped it back. Not my favorite look but it was tolerable. I found a bra and clean shirt. Enough of the basics and I felt ready to face the nightly whatever.
Half an hour later, we were at the Eternal Peace Funeral Home. The back rooms were all used for body storage and embalming. That’s where we headed.
The police tape was everywhere. The blood on the floor was outlined but it wasn’t in the shape of a body. The room was completely different from the over-decorated rooms up front. It was all poured concrete with drains in the floor and hoses on the wall. I didn’t want to think about the details. The smell of chemicals was better than dead bodies, I had to admit that much.
“What the hell?” I asked.
Hart walked over. “A mortician was working overnight. He went out for a smoke and was met with three people all in masks and dressed completely in black. Gloves, the whole thing. They tied him up to a chair against that support post.” Hart pointed a cement post that held up the old building.
The whole room was cold and clinical. I saw the tools on a table and shuddered.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“The hospital. The intruders cut into every corpse not embalmed yet and took pieces of flesh. Luckily, there were only three here not treated,” Hart explained.
“Why is the mortician in the hospital? Did they knock him out?” I asked.
“Escalated,” Matt reminded me.
“They cut him too?” I asked.
Hart showed me a picture of a man’s arm with a three-inch square section of flesh removed.
I closed my eyes. “That’s bad. If they start attacking random people on the street, this is like a horror movie,” I said.
“I guess the cemeteries are hard to get into. This was probably easier. It’s like there’s more than one group,” Hart said.
“Or copycats,” I suggested.
“The security footage from in here verifies everything the man said. We’re checking more local security cameras to see if we can figure out where they went or came from. If we can see their faces at all. But we need to get warnings out to everyone dealing with dead people,” Hart insisted.
“We need to put out a warning to everyone that there are people out for human flesh. Living or dead,” Matt said.
“That’ll cause a panic,” I countered.
“What do you suggest?” Matt asked.
“Let’s talk to the mortician first. See what the group said to him. Maybe there is a lead or a clue. How much they need or why they’re doing it,” I said.
Hart nodded. “We tried to talk to him but he was in shock. Freaked out, panicked. Can’t blame him, he was bleeding pretty bad. The hospital admitted him and are going to do a skin graft. But they have the wound treated for now and pain controlled. We’ll get more out of him eventually.”
“We need to take you with us. And maybe a female detective. He insisted that the entire group was male that attacked him and he’s reacting badly to men now,” Hart added.
Matt nodded. “But we can’t wait forever. If the living are being targeted, we’re going to have to say something publicly.”
“That’s probably what they want. Panic and people locking themselves inside. Ruin Halloween for everyone,” I said.
After I’d walked the whole building and found nothing more, we went to the hospital. Zach Thomas was alone in his hospital room staring at the TV like it had a deep and meaningful message.
I looked at the TV. It was SpongeBob.
“Hi, Mr. Thomas, I’m Deanna. I work with the police. We wanted to ask you some questions. Do you feel up to it?” I used my calm therapist voice.
He looked at me and nodded shakily.
“These are Detectives Weathers and Hart,” I said as the men walked in.
Mr. Thomas tensed and tried to back away.
“It’s okay, they’re fine. Just talk to me,” I said.
Thomas focused on me.
“Just tell us what happened,” I said.
“I went out for a smoke. I keep trying to quit. They were waiting. I don’t know how long or why. They forced me back inside. They had big knives. They pressed one against my crotch and said they’d cut it off if I fought them. I didn’t fight.”
“Smart, never fight back,” Hart said.
“If it was a woman, you’d be asking why she didn’t,” I shot back at them.
Matt gave me a look that said it wasn’t the time for that argument and he was right.
“Go on, Mr. Thomas,” I said.
“They wanted to know which bodies were done. Drained. Embalmed. I tried to plead with them to leave, not to hurt those people. They’re people. They’re dead but their loved ones are coming to see them. It was awful. They cut big chunks out of people. They took a penis from one. It was...” Thomas shook his head.
“That’s awful. Did they say why they were doing it?” I asked.
Thomas shrugged. “I asked them. I asked if they’d done those attacks in the cemetery. That’s when they yanked up my sleeve and cut into my arm. I screamed but I couldn’t move. They said they needed human flesh. If the dead was too hard to get, they could use the living.”
“I’m sure you asked why,” Hart prompted.
Thomas nodded. “They said they had to open the gateway. I don’t know. It made no sense. Then I asked a question and they said if I didn’t shut up they’d take me with them and use me piece by piece.”
Tears slid down Mr. Thomas’ face.
“I’m sorry to put you through this. We’re going to get you a great therapist to help you with the trauma. But what did you ask?” I examined the wound as best I could through the bandage.
He swallowed hard. “I asked why they didn’t use their own flesh if the living was fine. Why they had to hurt others.”
“That might’ve pissed them off,” Hart confirmed.
“But if any flesh will work... This is weird. They must need a lot of it. Why not take a whole body?” I asked. Zach shook his head and I continued. “Then what happened?”
“I hit the silent alarm when they pushed me back inside. I told them they only had a few minutes until the police came. They knew the police aren’t that fast. New Orleans is a busy city. But they said they had to scatter. Each took pieces in storage baggies. Like for snacks.”
“Anything else you can think of? That they said? Where they were going. Where they were from. These cuts look precise. Was one a doctor, possibly?” I asked.
Thomas shook his head. “Nothing. They said very little. It was like a nightmare.”
“Thank you, Mr. Thomas. We’ll let you rest. We’ll be back with more questions at some point. Take care,” Matt said.
I texted Paul to consult on Mr. Thomas ASAP. That poor man had been through a real-life horror show.
As we walked back to the elevator, I shuddered again. “Gateway? Like a portal?”
“No clue,” Hart said.
“Probably drugged-up kids wanting to meet aliens or something insane,” Matt replied.
I frowned. “He said this group was all male. I don’t think that’s true of the group at the cemetery. I think one guy is inciting a couple groups.”
“Like a cult?” Hart asked.
“No. Well, maybe. But he’s using different techniques and persuasions to get different people to cooperate. No wonder it’s so hard to pin it all down.”
“I’m missing a piece,” Hart said.
“It’s like if you were selling cookies and po
pcorn to make money. One group goes door-to-door or stands outside of supermarkets. Others take it to work. Or even sells online. The point is to sell. This guy wants human flesh. If some guys want to do it for the thrill and others have a higher purpose, the end is the same. Their motives and practices won’t be.” It was just a theory but it would explain the multiple attempts and different feel of the two groups.
“We have a cannibal squad loose in the city...hell,” Matt muttered.
Chapter Sixteen
That afternoon, Paul texted that he’d seen Mr. Thomas and wanted to come by. Since Mary Lou was off working, I figured it was okay.
I answered the door wary of more drama. Or demons. That was always a potential issue.
“Hi, sorry about that whole thing the other day,” he said.
“Forget it all. Demons make people do crazy things. You got a firsthand demo. But Mary Lou is high maintenance and needy. Just fair warning, if you date her. Don’t blame me,” I said.
He followed me into the kitchen.
“I’m not interested in her. She seemed needy and who doesn’t want to help someone when they are vulnerable? I saw your Mr. Thomas pro-bono because he just had some trauma.” Paul dropped his notebook on the table.
“Is he okay?” I asked.
“Mentally, he’s traumatized. I warned him about the nightmares and other potential things to watch out for. All normal. The threats to his manhood would keep any guy awake. He doesn’t want to go back to work. Physically, the skin graft will heal. They’ve scheduled the surgery. He needs to calm down a bit first for it to be medically smart to put him under. His BP keeps spiking. He jumps at anyone wearing black. But the cut? It was precise.”
“I saw the police photos. That’s medical,” I said.
“I agree. I told the police that it’s at least a medical student. Someone trained well enough. Doing it on someone alive without anesthetic? That’s cruel and to be that calm as he did it...” Paul folded his arms. “I’m scared of that guy.”
“We need to look at those people obsessed with death again. Maybe review the list of people who didn’t turn up at the hospital for work? Or medical students, interns, and residents who have recently washed out or had issues?” I suggested.
“That could be from any hospital or medical school in and around the city,” he said.
“I know. Crazy number of people to wade through but I don’t have a better lead.” I wished I could just make it all easier but I wasn’t magic.
“I did get some information out of him about height and voices. One had a thick Cajun accent. One sounded more like you,” he teased.
“Yankee?” I assumed.
“Yankee. The other general Southern, not necessarily Louisiana. So not a great deal of help but it’s not a group that’s probably related or all from the same place. It’s a mix. At least those three,” Paul replied.
I nodded. “That’s great. You told Matt?” I asked.
Paul nodded. “I did. I also put Mr. Thomas on Xanax until his anxiety levels out. They’re controlling his blood pressure and everything else for now. So, it should help. I don’t want to sedate him in case he remembers anything else.”
“Great. You’re going to see him again?” I asked.
“Sure. I’ll take him on until he’s okay to be without therapy.” Paul looked at me.
“Thanks, but I didn’t mean for you to do all that. I just wanted someone more medical to evaluate the whole situation.” I felt oddly self-conscious.
“It’s not a problem. He’s a bit nervous with men still but I built up a trust. He has to learn to trust men again. It’s amazing how a trauma that lasts twenty minutes can scar you for life. Not just literally,” Paul said.
“Yeah. I need to go see the bodies and the injuries again. I feel like I missed pieces because they’d removed the bodies for evidence already.” I rubbed my eyes.
“I have pictures. They wanted me to compare. See if the cuts were different on the dead versus the living.” He handed me his phone.
I swiped through the pictures and the phone began to wobble in my trembling hand.
“You okay?” Paul grabbed the phone and me.
“Yeah, I just had a flash.” I sat down slowly. “Can you call Matt?”
“Sure.” Paul dialed and put the phone on speaker. Matt answered.
“Hi Matt, it’s De. I had a vision. I think that some of that group are going to strike again. Tonight, they’ll go for the cemetery but the last one they haven’t hit yet. The one with all the tours. I don’t know why. I want us to go there. Stake it out,” I said.
“We’ll get police to do it,” Matt said.
“You won’t be in the right spot. These people haven’t even decided where to go yet. They’re watching funerals and looking at recent burials,” I warned.
“Fine. I’ll pick you up at ten,” he said.
“Thanks. That should be good.” I smirked at his joke about picking me up. Neither of us were used to living at the same address yet.
Paul ended the call.
“Just that fast you have so much information?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Normally, it’s not a big deal. I didn’t eat breakfast and haven’t bothered with lunch. Sliced up flesh on the brain really ruins your appetite,” I said.
“May I suggest a nice vegetarian option?” he asked.
“No pasta with red sauce,” I replied.
“How about grilled cheese?” he offered.
“No tomato soups. Chicken noodle.” I nodded.
Paul laughed. “Comfort food all the way. Come on, my treat.”
“No, I can make it here. It’s fine. You have work,” I said.
“Don’t let Mary Lou and whatever weirdness happened at that club ruin our friendship or working relationship. Or whatever. If you have demons working that hard to get to you through other people—odds are it was pushing me to be intrigued by that club.”
“Really?” I asked.
“It is fascinating but that’s not my main area of study. Though some of those people might have addictions to various things.” Paul put his phone away. “Maybe Mary Lou is being targeted by one of those...demons?”
I froze and stared at him. “No. Greg would be all over that.”
“You said she’s going through a bad divorce. Greg and she used to...” He trailed off.
“Right. She is vulnerable. I’ll watch her. Thanks. Maybe some fresh air would be good. I just hope people don’t start to panic,” I said.
I texted Greg to keep an eye on Mary Lou. If Paul was targeted by a demon, it might go after someone so vulnerable as Mary Lou as well.
That night I walked the cemetery with Matt and there were cops all over the place. The tours continued on as usual but we were in an area of the cemetery the tour operators didn’t venture into. There was a mist swirling around the grounds and obscuring the statues and people—it added to the atmosphere, the chill in the air made it even more unsettling.
“You and Mary Lou okay?” Matt asked in a whisper as we waited.
“More or less. She’s needy,” I said.
“She is. Lance didn’t help trying to control everything. Mary Lou couldn’t do anything right. He’d always find a problem. She has to learn to make her own decisions and not cling to everyone else for approval or direction. It’ll take time,” he said.
I nodded. “It’ll work out.”
“I’m sure.” Matt nodded. “You trust Gunnar?”
I hadn’t been expecting that question. “Yeah, he’s good. It’s mostly muscle and driving. I needed an assistant to watch my back when the zombie was trying to kill me. All those spiders kept making me weak. It was weird. But he’s reliable. Good guy.”
“Good,” Matt said.
“Is there something I should know?” I asked.
Gunnar had been a police officer for a short time, so it was odd Matt was asking me about him.
“No. Just he gave up stripping pretty easily. And he gave up being a po
lice officer. Maybe he just jumps from thing to thing. I was afraid he might flake on you,” Matt said.
“I can see that. So far, he hasn’t. He’s young. Sometimes it takes people awhile to figure out what makes them happy.” I suddenly sensed we weren’t alone anymore. And it wasn’t police or tourists.
Then a scream came from the dark. Shouting followed.
We ran in the direction of the screaming and found a dark van peeling out. No plates. A squad car was in pursuit but it was Paul sitting on the ground holding his bleeding arm that worried me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I wanted to know you were okay,” he said.
I looked at his arm. “Did they get your pound of flesh?”
“Just a cut. Those knives are sharp but small. It’s a scalpel,” he said.
“We’ll get you an ambulance.” Matt nodded to a uniformed officer.
Paul stood up. “No, it’s not that bad. I’ll drive over to the ER and get stitches. I shouldn’t have come here. I just feel like I’m part of this now.”
“I’ll drive. You need to keep pressure on that,” I said.
“Well, tonight is a bust. We’ll follow up on the van. Next time, Dr. LeBlanc, let people know if you want to tag along on a stakeout. Otherwise, you’re wasting a lot of time and resources,” Matt scolded.
Paul nodded. “I’m really sorry. I was just going to sit in my car and watch but I saw something. A guy dressed in all black. I had to follow him. It was dumb.”
“Was he alone? On foot?” Matt pushed.
“Appeared to be alone and on foot. But obviously he had a van with a driver ready to go.” Paul shrugged.
I put Paul in his car and got behind the wheel. He held pressure on his arm.
“It’s not a demon,” he said as soon as we were alone.
“I know. You’re just nosy and a pain. You think I can’t handle this on my own?” I asked.
“No, but I care about my patients. I’m in this. You asked me to consult. You brought me in. I’m not psychic or a cop but I’m good at predicting people’s behavior. They waited to see where you set up before they came in. These are smart criminals who don’t want to be caught. One or two might be impulsive but most are careful. They’ve thought this all out,” he warned.
