Dead Chance

by H L Goodnight

  Logging online on my laptop, I typed in the name. Immediately, news articles popped up.

  Daniel Connors slain in apartment. Suspect at large, Jason Lewis: Friend or Killer?

  Daniel Connors murdered. Marks on Neck! Vampires in Fort Augustine?

  Beloved Children’s Hospital resident murdered. Suspect Jason Lewis at large.

  Soon to be doctor Daniel Connors dead at age twenty-three.

  All the headlines were from two days ago. Why was Whisper getting visions about a dead man’s killer? Was Jason Lewis a monster? Or being hunted by one?

  On the other hand, perhaps it was a ploy to keep me from dating Roth, who she obviously knew and despised? The whole ‘we don’t know each’ other was bull. Why wouldn’t they tell me how they knew each other?

  I looked up Lewis’ profile on social media. Lots of pictures of him at local clubs with other men. Especially at Li Lin, a club that was known for its private shows and rooms for customers. I’d never been but had heard the rumors.

  I needed to check out Connors apartment. Photos showed mourners had put up pictures, flowers, and religious paraphernalia around the door. Apparently, Daniel Connors had been doing his residency at the larger of the children’s hospitals downtown. The public was bemoaning the loss of a potential pediatrician.

  Before leaving the apartment to check it out, I read a couple of the news articles.

  The unofficial cause of death had been leaked to reporters through a social media. Supposedly, pictures of the Connors’ throat depicted multiple puncture wounds. Was somebody mimicking their favorite vampire? Lovers play gone horribly wrong? Perhaps, depending on the wounds, an actual monster could be involved.

  I’d never met a vampire, werewolf, or any other popular mythological creature. Frankly, I doubted their existence.

  However, other things went bump in the night that made mincemeat out of humans for food and fun. Perhaps something supernatural had killed Daniel Connors. Not Jason Lewis.

  Grabbing my tonfas, I put them in my crossover body bag, and headed out the door. Pulling on my gloves as I locked up, my neighbor Gabriel was just getting home.

  He was covered in marinara sauce. It was on his uniform’s shirt and pants, and even his hair.

  “What happened?”

  Gabriel waved, rubbing his hand on his pants. “A long day and a tin of marinara exploded.”

  “I thought you worked at a deli,” I said.

  “I do. Gerry’s Deli. Yeah.” He wiped off a glob of sauce dripping from his hair onto his ear. “We use marinara for the meatball subs. We got a bad batch of marinara in. Apparently once expired, food can get dangerous in large glass jars.”

  “I’d say,” I looked at the red sauce everywhere on him.

  “Be careful out there.”

  I waved, “Always.”

  Gabriel and Devon seemed like decent guys. They were both nerds working their way through college. Engineering majors. I’d met Devon twice. He was shy and had rarely said hello. So far, the two men had only got loud when they had the day or night off together to play fantasy games online, which they explained was teaming up to quest and defeat the bad guys.

  It sounded a lot like the previous neighbors, and their obsession with shooting games. Just fantasy elements added as far as I could tell. But, I wasn’t a gamer, and any ideas I once held about creatures from myth had been warped.

  I took the tales of the fantastical as warnings. Perhaps the creatures in stories were monsters in other countries. Regardless, I needed to deal with Jason Lewis. And the first step to that was the crime scene.

  Chapter Ten

  Connors had lived on the opposite side of town from me, so I took my car. It was the posh side, where suburban people visited or set their children up to live while attending university. I drove by the site, seeing the memorial of flowers by the outer gates of the parking lot made it pretty easy to tell which building it was without looking for the number.

  There were a few people out and about this time of night, but most of Fort Augustine was asleep. I parked a few blocks away and walked over. Using the alley, I discovered it didn't have a handy fire escape to climb up. Luckily, the building did have a back door. It had a lock, but as was common with buildings downtown, someone had propped it open.

  I went in, and picked up the rock in the way, pocketing it. The hallway to Connors' apartment was easy to spot. His door was littered with flowers. I wasn't willing to go into his apartment. It was too soon after the crime. For certain the FAPD would be monitoring it. I placed the rock down in the pile of mementos and flowers. This was a lot of grief for one would-be-doctor.

  As I headed for the stairs, I bumped into a man.

  “Pardon me,” I said.

  "Excuse me," he said. He held a single lily.

  "Is that for Connors," I asked.

  The man nodded. His eyes were red from crying. He was wearing black skintight jeans, a dark shirt, and a duster. His skin was olive colored. What I could see of his beard was neatly trimmed and faded. Most of his lower face was covered by a handkerchief he held to his mouth.

  I waited, watching him.

  He crouched down and put the flower down on the heap. Then he started to shake as if he was holding in his grief.

  I moved closer. "Connors was so young," I said.

  He nodded, still with the hankie on his mouth.

  "I'm surprised how many people care about him," I said.

  "I'm not." His voice broke, and he cleared his throat. "Danny cared about everyone."

  I stayed silent even though I wanted to ask questions. Most of us can't stand holes in conversation and fill them up.

  "He was going to be the best doctor." The man wiped his face with the handkerchief, standing.

  "Did you know him?"

  The man nodded, "We worked together."

  There were lots of flowers and writings people had put together with Connors' photos. We miss you doc! Being the common phrase used.

  "The good die young," I said without meaning to.

  Jason Lewis looked at me, his anguish visible. "They do." His eyes, more red than brown, narrowed, "Who are you?"

  I said, "I just heard about Connors."

  Ignoring me, he walked to the elevator and got on. He held the door. "Going out?"

  I nodded. Carefully, I watched Lewis. If he were the killer, then he would likely be okay killing again. He wasn't a creature in a suit but human. So maybe he hadn't done it. The media were quick to assume wanted for questioning meant guilt of a crime. Life wasn't a television drama. Lots of people were brought in for questioning by the police.

  I tried to look at Jason's teeth when he talked. There was a club on Lillian that had a lot of people who had their bodies altered in the attempt to live as vampires.

  I'd seen people with dental implants, so they had permanent vampire teeth. It struck me as wrong; desiring to be a monster. I had never encountered an actual vampiric creature, but there were plenty of real horrifying things out there. Why mimic one?

  I'd checked Lillian, the club, out a couple times and never saw anything to make me think anyone there was really a vampire. Everyone had a reflection and seemed to be drinking liquor, not blood. The club seemed to be where a lot of twenty-year-olds and up played out fantasies. Mostly harmless.

  However, some people can't keep reality and fantasy separate. Maybe Jason Lewis believed himself to be a real vampire?

  Inside the elevator, I said, “So you headed to a club?”

  He turned to the left and said, "No. I am headed far away from this hell hole. Back home."

  Jason Lewis moved faster than I could blink and pressed the stop button on the elevator. In the same space of time, he was next to me.

  “You smell so nice.” His hand went to my shoulder.

  My left hand came up, holding his wrist in place. Slightly twisting, my right side lowered making him move his arm lower. My kick was harder than I’d intended. It smashed him into the side of the elev
ator. He crumpled up on the ground.

  I let go of his wrist to press the stop button. He jumped on my back, his teeth coming towards my neck. I lifted my legs, hoping that would make him stumble from the dead weight. It didn’t faze Jason.

  His breath hot on my neck made me nauseous. “I need this,” he mumbled.

  As I felt teeth pierce my skin, scarlet splattered everything.

  Growling, I grabbed his head and planted my feet in one smooth motion. Bending, I threw him over me. His teeth tore the skin where he had bitten.

  It burned.

  He hit the stop button as he stood. The elevator moved again as he swung at me.

  His attack lacked any formal style, but even the untrained can land a blow.

  He hit my side enough that ribs cracked.

  My kick came towards him as the doors opened.

  He ran out, dodging. The kick landed on the elevator floor, cracking the tile, and leaving a divot.

  I keep after him for a block but then ran out of energy. Breathing hard, I looked for a sign of him. Once again, he had run out of sight.

  What the hell was he?

  The red faded, and the wound on my neck hurt. A lot. I pressed my hoodie’s hood on it. It was bleeding, but the cut wasn’t deep.

  Was Jason Lewis a human with powers who had gone insane and decided he was a vampire?

  This really seemed like something out of my depth. A murder.

  But if he was a monster wearing a human suit or a crazed human, I had to stop him. He’d taken hits from me like they were nothing.

  I’d wondered what I could possibly do about Connors death. Now I knew. I had to stop Jason Lewis.

  I needed to have a chat with Whisper to find out what she knew about vampires. Had she met one before? It seemed the sort of thing that would have come up by now.

  But one truth remained: I'd just let the killer get away.

  Chapter Eleven

  Getting out of my clothes, I got into pajamas. I put new bandages on the scratches on my neck along with dabs of antibacterial cream. I didn’t mention Jason Lewis to Bard and put thoughts of him on the back burner.

  Brad had me turn pages for him so he could read a book. He wanted to interact with objects, but so far he couldn't. Brad stopped reading and got up to leave.

  "Bye, Brad," I said.

  He left without a wave or a goodbye. He wouldn't tell me where he went to rest. Or couldn’t. I figured his coffin. He said he had to rest once a week or he would start to fade away.

  Part of me wondered if that could be him passing on. I hadn't mentioned it yet. He still seemed heartbroken about Sara. And selfishly, I enjoyed the company of someone else who didn't often sleep.

  With Brad gone, I sketched Roth. Remembering how he looked right after a kiss. It wasn't a bad drawing, but I couldn't capture him completely. The sketch was missing something.

  If you don't have to sleep, skills you always dreamed of having were just hours of practice away. My drawings had gone from elementary level to recognizable after the first couple years. Now, after six years, I wasn't the worst at it. I had a hard time with buildings, but people’s faces spoke to me.

  Turning the page, I sketched Whisper in profile. Her gorgeous skin was hard to capture without looking waxy. I paused on her eyes. She was my best friend. I didn't want to lose her. Without her, I wasn't certain if I could face another day.

  Pulling away from the vortex of dark thoughts, I stretched. I flipped the pad back to the picture of Roth. Maybe he'd pose for me? I put the pad and pencils down. Closing my eyes, I hoped that he would be in my dreams and not the ever-lurking shadows.

  The smell of the algae on the lake reminded me of the place I'd grown up with my Grandfather. A party by the lake would be so fun. Sara got out of the car. She and Julie were laughing about something on Sara's cell.

  "What is it," I asked.

  "It's a picture of you," Julie said. Her eyes were wide with terror, but laughter came from her mouth.

  Sara's gaze was unblinking, the light in her eyes gone as she held up the pink metallic phone, "Look, Dianna."

  I was nude in the picture. Bound to a bed with black leather on my arms and legs, a look of horror on my face. I tried to pull my arm away from the phone, but it was bound in a thick leather cuff. I was how I'd been in the picture. Trapped on top of a bed.

  The room was black, all I could see was the white sheets I was on. What was happening?

  A man in a white robe stepped forward. His face covered by a hood. Picking up a bucket next to the bed, he dumped the content over his head. Scarlet pouring over him, the scent made me gag. The robes dripping in blood, he started to pull down the hood.

  Brad was suddenly leaping on him, knocking him to the side. As the robed man fell, Brad screamed at me, "Run!"

  The leather stretched as I pulled my body in a ball with all my might. The wood creaked and cracked. Within a second, I was free. I ran into the darkness. It became a forest, and I tripped on a tree root. My strength and speed were gone.

  Shadows swirled, as liquid darkness started to become an eight-foot man-like shape. It had no eyes, nose, nor ears. Its obscene mouth was open, revealing rows of jagged yellow teeth like a shark. Pieces of flesh and organs stuck in between them. A grisly reminder of the beast’s handiwork.

  "Unchild, do not flee," its metallic voice clawed into my brain.

  Screaming, I ran harder.

  One of the tendrils grabbed my foot, tripping me. Bits of the paper flesh stuck to mine as my head smacked into a tree. The vine-like appendages wrapped around my ankles, pulling me up.

  It held me upside down. "The search is close. Soon we will find you, unchild," It moved me closer to its mouth. The smell of rot made me gag, as it taunted, "You will join the feast." As my hand almost touched the first row of teeth, the creature shouted, "Feast!"

  Screaming, I woke up.

  I was covered in sweat, the sheets, comforter, and quilt were twisted around me. I held my arms, and brought my legs up, searching the shadows of my room.

  Voices and images of the last time I'd seen my friends pierced through me.

  "It is over. This is now.”

  Breathing slowly I focused on things in the room. The sketch of Roth was on the nightstand. I couldn't do his eyes justice. They were full of life, lust, and maybe something more. Should I even try for the something more?

  Did I want to? Did I want to risk more pain and darkness? I wasn't sure. I definitely wanted to explore a physical relationship with him. Another heartbreak wasn't something I could handle.

  Chapter Twelve

  Wen's gym had been closed for the exterminator. Apparently, a bunch of rats had invaded. Large ones. Gretchen had been outside as I arrived, talking to Kim about the pest problem. Kim and Gretchen had seemed on edge. I had said I was going to my company's gym, and Gretchen had invited herself along. Kim had said Wen’s should be open in two days at the latest.

  On the way to Burke & Walsh, Gretchen had told me about Jules being shot.

  Juliet Sands was a member of Wen's gym and of the FAPD. Gretchen said it was still family only at the hospital, but that Jules was already stitched up and the prognosis was good. She told me what she knew: a homeless man high on something had come up to Jules and shot her.

  As we rode up the elevator to the gym, I said, "I hope she's okay."

  Gretchen said, "Jules will pull through. She is tiny but tough as nails." She rubbed her eyes.

  I pretended to not notice the tears.

  As the elevator doors opened, she said, "This town is so full of homeless people on so many types of drugs, I keep waiting for either the CDC to show up or zombies."

  The gym at work was fancy. It had a few mirrors in it, but not the wall of mirrors you see in gym ads. Everything was done in black and black metal. Black tile lined the walls up to chair height, and then it was textured walls made to resemble brushed nickel. The floor was done in a dark gray wood, polished to a high sheen. The machines were
well kept, and fairly new. I preferred Wen's gym to all the pomp and circumstance of this one.

  Gretchen looked like a kid in a candy store. She moved the arm which she had rested on my head and did a fist pump. She said, "This place is awesome, Dianna!"

  I looked around unimpressed, but grateful the gym helped cheer her. "The doors to the left are for the pool and spa area. The doors to the right have the classrooms and free weights. I think it’s all closed on the weekends, though. We can only use the basic equipment."

  The pretty blond man at the desk, his metal tag said Ken, said, "The pool is open if you want to take a dip. Suits are available."

  Gretchen narrowed her eyes, "What kinds of suits?"

  He took out a catalog from behind the large desk. "Two piece and one-piece suits are available."

  Gretchen asked without peeking at the catalog, "How often are they washed?"

  The young man looked horrified at the thought of someone sharing a swimsuit. "The suit is yours. It's brand new."

  "How much?" Gretchen asked, putting a finger to her lips.

  His smile was pained. "They are complimentary. We just ask that you keep them in your locker." He looked at me for help. His face said, save me from the poor person.

  I shrugged and peeked a look at the catalog. It had all black suits.

  A girl, Chelsea read her tag, came from behind a door that blended with the walls. The door disappeared as it closed. She too looked like a doll. Her black curls bounced as she said, "How about two of the sports bikinis?"

  Ken stood up. "If you follow Chelsea, she can help you with your suits."

  "Follow me, ladies," she said. She was between our heights but appeared to have just left teenage-hood behind.

  Gretchen said to me, "If the pool rocks, I'll be coming back."

  Chelsea said over her shoulder, "The pool is salt water, so we recommend showering after swimming. Would you both be needing grip slippers and robes?"