“Drakthos? Who is Drakthos, and why would a demon kidnap the Senator?” the voice laughed. “That is the most ridiculous story I have ever heard. Next you’re going to tell me that he wanted money, power, a lifetime supply of bubble wrap!” he said sarcastically. Bat was getting nowhere in this process, and all the while, he was losing precious time. He closed his eyes, gulped down a breath of air, and transformed into a bat in front of the interrogator. The handcuffs fell to the floor, and he was free of bondage. Just as quickly, he shape shifted back into a man, kicked the lamp, and shattered the bulb, leaving the room in total darkness. With the light out, he had the advantage over the four interrogators that he could now see on the other side of the table.
“What the . . ! Did you see that?!” bellowed a voice from a figure holding a gun immediately to his right. Bat grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted sharply, but the pistol he held did not fall from his hand. Two rounds went off unexpectedly, ricocheting from the tile floor and into the darkness. The shots were deafening, and the ringing in his ears kept Bat from hearing the second officer lunging at him across the table. Bat was knocked off balance, breaking the wrist of the first man with the pistol. Wrestling on the cold floor, Bat wrenched his arms loose from a bear hug and elbowed one officer to the face as he kicked another in the midsection. An exhalation of a lungful of air and a grunt from the officer was followed up by a punch to Bat’s nose. Stars flashed before his eyes as he stumbled backwards, and Bat saw that he was fighting a losing battle in such close quarters. With nowhere to go, an idea flashed through his mind, and without hesitation, he morphed back into a bat and flew for shelter beneath the underside of the table in the middle of the room. Hiding in a corner where the table leg intersected the tabletop, he waited patiently for time to pass.
A few seconds later, the overhead lights turned on, and all four of the officers staggered in a mass of blood and confusion. Two of the men were wounded indiscriminately by the stray bullets, while the other two were nursing a broken nose and wrist respectively. An alarm sounded as one of the officers punched a button on the wall.
“Where is he?!” exclaimed the officer with the broken wrist.
“I don’t know!” noted the man who was shot in the upper arm. “I thought you had him!”
“He turned into a bat, I think,” said the one lying on the floor. He was holding his hand over a gunshot wound in his bleeding calf.
“Don’ ‘ou b’lieve id!” piped in the man holding his broken nose.
“He’s right. No one’s going to believe he turned into a bat,” said the man with the broken wrist. “I just hope we don’t lose our jobs when the feds find out he single handedly whipped us all.”
“The door never opened, did it?” asked the man on the floor, and all of the officers looked at each other in surprise that they had not realized this simple fact before.
“He’d gone. I’b goin’ do da ‘ospidal!” said the man with the broken nose as he gasped.
“Me, too,” said the man shot in the arm, and they filed out of the room together.
“Help me up,” said the man on the floor as he reached out his hand. The officer with the broken wrist extended his good arm and helped his partner to his feet. “I say the story is that he scuffled with us before interrogation, and he got away,” he limped out of the room and closed the door behind him.
“No wonder so many cases go unsolved around here,” smirked Bat as he changed back to human form. Fortunately for him, they had left the door unlocked, and peeking through the crack, he sneaked out into the hallway when no one was looking. He flew down the passage way to the entrance of the side stairwell. Opening the door he carefully stepped out onto the landing and listened for any sign that he was not alone. To his dismay, the creak of a boot echoed through the vertical shaft. Bat stuck his head out over the railing and gazed up the center of the shaft to see if he could determine the origin of the echo, but he could not pinpoint the location. Slow and methodical the creak repeated, and each step progressed upward with the heaviest of imprints. If Bat were not convinced by his own extended range of hearing, he would never have believed the movement that ascended the stairs was made by footsteps. He would have thought the sound was made by pounding a sledgehammer.
He held his breath and swallowed back the fear as a sudden bite of chill air swept over him. He should not have stepped into the stairwell.
Chapter 2
*
Stairway to Hell
*
Crush parked the cruiser next to an abandoned apartment building along an inconspicuous side street in downtown Durham. It was noon, and he had driven the vehicle past the Durham County Government Building several times before deciding on which way to enter. It would not be an easy entry, as all of the doors would have metal detectors and possibly armed guards. By now, there would have been news reports broadcast about the confrontation on Interstate 40 earlier that morning, and the authorities would arrest him on sight. No matter the outcome, he had to take the risk by entering the building and retrieving the Staff of Helios. Every one of his close friends and co-workers were in danger, not to mention there seemed to be some method to the madness surrounding the Senator’s disappearance. Circumstances were left to Crush to do what he could to play his part in bringing this long nightmare to an end, regardless of whether the end was for better or worse.
Just as he decided to open the car door, a young couple approached along the sidewalk, and both made eye contact with Crush. With his hat covering his ears, he had little fear of standing out in appearance, so he nodded a friendly gesture to them. Grabbing a clipboard and pen, he pretended to have his mind on official business as they walked by. After they had passed, he checked his mirrors in all directions for any more pedestrians, and when he was certain that he was alone, he stepped out of the car. Locking the doors, he hid the keys beneath a nearby dumpster in the case that he might need the vehicle again. His best option was to acquire a different vehicle for the trip back to Mt. Airy, but the way plans had turned out so far, he was not ready to give up the certainty of travel the stolen cruiser had given him. After all, he thought, who would look for a stolen vehicle at a government building.
Crush climbed onto the lid of the dumpster to get himself within jumping distance of the fire escape ladder that wound its crooked way up the building. With a cat-like leap, he was able to grab the bottom rung of the ladder, and he easily scaled the side of the building until he reached the top floor where the stairway came to an abrupt halt twenty feet below the top ledge. Taking off his shoes and stuffing them into his coat pockets, Crush dug front and back claws into the brick and mortar and climbed the outer wall to reach the top ledge of the building. With a mighty grip he pulled himself over the edge and rolled out onto the flat roof. He lay sprawled out on the rat for several minutes gathering his thoughts and staring up at the cloudy sky when an unexpected face appeared to block his view. Staring back down at him, the older bearded face was framed with a growing look of concern, and after several seconds, he spoke to Crush.
“I know you. S. S. Crush, right?” he asked. Crush’s hat had fallen off when he had rolled onto his back, leaving his ears exposed along with his identity.
“Maybe,” he replied quite reluctantly. “And maybe its Halloween.”
“It’s not blooming Halloween,” the stranger said with one eye closed. “Were you taking a catnap?” he asked with curiosity.
“Yeah, a cat nap,” Crush replied with a hint of annoyance.
“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. My name’s Justin,” he said as he bent down to shake Crush’s hand. “I know that you don’t know me, but I know you. You and my cousin, Lemuel, knocked out that demon at the Devil’s Tramping Ground a while back.”
“Lemuel. How is the old coot?”
“Oh, great. He’s become a local legend down there, talks about it all the time. Which brings me to ask, what are you doing in Du
rham?! You’re a fugitive, for goodness sake!” he proclaimed excitedly with a grin. Then he presented a torn plastic package to Crush and offered politely, “Peanut?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Crush replied as he rolled over, put the hat on his head, and leaned against the outer brick wall with a handful of peanuts. “Dry roasted. Tastier than boiled.”
“Yeah, I like my nuts dry and salty. Seems a sin to dip ‘em in boiling oil,” remarked Justin as he cracked a shell and popped one in his mouth, waiting patiently for an answer to his query.
“You don’t really believe everything you read, do you?” asked Crush.
“Oh, heck no! If I did, I’d believe Elvis was still alive, Iran was interested in a peaceful nuclear program, and Osama Bin Laden’s location was a secret to the Pakistani authorities,” he replied smugly. “No, I know what you’re getting at. I don’t suppose I take much stock in the notion that you had anything to do with a Senator’s disappearance.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but Elvis is still alive,” Crush remarked with a smile. “I’ll have to tell you about that someday.”
“Says you. My point to you is that you helped out my cousin, so I’m going to return the favor in whatever way I can.” Crush looked the man over well before he answered. Justin, if that was his name, was five foot nothing, scraggly, and from all indications, homeless. Whatever he could offer Crush was most likely not worth the danger that the old man might cause himself, but Crush was in a compromised state. He was alone, on the run with a seemingly impossible mission, and most importantly, his cover had been blown by this homeless man standing before him. Whatever his choices were that day, he had to include Justin and keep his trust, even if it was just to keep his cover from being revealed on a larger scale.
“Justin, I think I’ll take you up on that offer. If you’re half the man Lemuel is, we may yet succeed in finding that Senator and his daughter,” he proclaimed as he stretched his hand out in agreement. Justin grasped it and shook Crush’s hand with a tighter grip than Crush expected.
“I’m your partner then. What’s the plan?”
**********
It was getting near dark, and Crush had been waiting in the side street by the unguarded door to the Durham County Government Building for the last two hours, hoping to see some sign of the door opening to let him inside. Justin had gone in the front door a couple of hours earlier and was confident that he could let Crush enter the side door. He had told Crush that he had another cousin who worked inside and to wait by the door. This plan however had turned out like most of the other recently ill-fated plans, and if something did not happen soon, he would have to improvise or risk being caught. With his coat on and his hat covering his feline ears, he crouched down against the wall and retrieved the revolver that he had hid in his coat pocket. Crush hated the thought of carrying a gun, but given the circumstances, he had resolved that he may need one if the demon that had found him on the interstate made another appearance. Crush was stronger than any human, and before that morning, he had seldom come across any entity that could challenge his strength. The present danger he faced had suddenly outweighed any past mistakes he may have experienced with a gun, so he checked the silver bullets in the clip and slid the piece back into the holster strapped across his chest. As if on cue, the knobless door opened, and Crush slipped between the crack of the door and frame, disappearing into the dark hallway.
When the door closed, the area at the end of the aisle was dimly lit by the red exit sign that floated above the door frame, and Crush could make out Justin’s facial features in the dark.
“What took you so long?” Crush whispered.
“My cousin Barney wanted to be clear of the building before I went out that door,” Justin replied in a whisper. “He wants to be free of blame if I’m caught back here.”
“Where is here?” pried Crush as he looked around at the numerous tables.
“The coroner’s lab. Barney works with cadavers,” Justin answered as Crush cringed.
“I know how that feels. Sounds like a group I once worked with,” quipped Crush. “Where’s the evidence room?”
“Ninth floor. And we can’t use the elevator unless you want to risk getting caught.”
“What are we waiting for?” Crush asked as he began to feel the chill in the air emanating from the cold storage. Justin motioned for Crush to follow, and they crept quietly down the center aisle to the door at the opposite end of the room. Justin cracked the door, spilling a knifelike edge of light into the room, and after inspection, he slipped through to the lit corridor. Crush quickly followed, and as he passed over the threshold, he either saw or imagined that he glimpsed a sheet rustle in the dark. The he gently closed the door as his heart raced for a moment at what he imagined in Barney’s lab.
“You okay?” asked Justin as he noted the pale look on Crush’s face.
“Yeah, yeah. Thought I saw Barney’s pet in there.”
“Don’t be silly. There are no pets allowed in the lab.”
“Let’s get moving then,” Crush answered and turned right down the hallway toward the exit sign and stairwell.
“Not that way,” Justin replied. “Those stairs don’t go above the eighth floor. We have to use the open staircase in the center of the building to get to the top.”
“Then let’s use the side stairs to get to the eight floor and take our chances in plain view from eight to nine,” Crush explained. “I don’t want to take any more risks than necessary.”
“All right, that’s fine. Exit stairs right,” Justin agreed, and they walked to the end of the hallway and entered the stairwell together. At the top of the third flight of stairs, Crush’s ears perked to attention, and he reached out his hand to grip Justin’s arm. Holding his finger to his lips in silence, Crush stood statue still as the creaking of the first floor door echoed up the stairwell, followed by the heavy footsteps of a massive individual slowly making their way up the steps. Recognizing the sound of the footsteps, Crush wasted no time as he opened the third floor door and then shoved Justin through the access and down into the hallway toward a bathroom, where they quickly darted inside for safety. After checking the stalls to make sure they were alone, Crush explained his actions.
“Justin, take the other stairs back down and get out of here before its too late!”
“I don’t understand . . . “
“We’re being followed by a demon, and I don’t know if I can protect you. I’ll have to get the Staff on my own. Now go,” Crush urged him.
“Crush, you can’t do this alone. If you can hold it off, I can get the Staff for you,” Justin assured him. “Give me your coat. I’ll need something to cover it up with.” Crush thought about it for a moment before making a snap decision he hoped that he would not regret.
“All right then. Meet me back in the side stairwell. As for the demon, I’ll circle back around and lose him. I hope,” Crush agreed and handed his coat to Justin. The pistol strapped across Crush’s chest shined in the light, and Justin hoped that the hero would not have to resort to violence in such a public place.
“Good luck,” he said, patted Crush’s arm, and sneaked out into the hallway. Crush cracked the door open and watched Justin disappear up the stairs. Then he let the door quietly close, and he turned the bathroom lights off. Hiding in the open space behind the door stop, he withdrew the pistol from the holster and waited in the dark for the arrival of the demon.
It seem an eternity had passed when he heard the door to the stairwell open and felt the vibration of the heavy footsteps approaching down the hall. Inhaling deep, Crush held his breath and waited for the confrontation that had been building all day. A bead of sweat ran down his forehead, and his palms became moist in anticipation. The footsteps stopped outside the bathroom door, and the shadow stretching beneath the crack let Crush know that the time for action was imminent. The door to the restroom cracked open and a thin sliver o
f light broke through the seam. Clawed fingertips rested on the door and held the entrance open for a count of ten in Crush’s mind.
“One . . . ,” Crush’s shoulders tightened against the wall.
“Two . . . ,” he raised his eyes and focused squarely on the clawed fingers.
“Three . . . ,” Crush exhaled ever so gently.
“Four . . . ,” he leaned to rest his weight on his right hand.
“Five . . . ,” he pulled his knees in together to his chest.
“Six . . . ,” Crush leveled the pistol in his left hand to rest firmly between his knees.
“Seven . . . ,” he closed one eye to bring the head at the end of the barrel into focus.
“Eight . . . ,” a low steady growl came through from the other side, and Crush backed up in the corner to give room for the door to open.
“Nine . . . ,” Crush licked his lips in anticipation.
“Ten . . . ,” the restroom door flew open against the doorstop with a bang.
**********
Justin ran down the deserted hallway to the open staircase and bolted up the first flight without hesitation. The building had emptied of the day shift a half-hour earlier, so there were no pedestrians to slow him down. As he hit the seventh floor, he pulled back to a normal pace so that he could catch his breath. Looking down the center of the staircase, he wondered if his legs could take this much exercise in one night, and for an instant, a touch of vertigo hit his vision, causing him to lean backward on the stairs and close his eyes for a breather. The years on the streets and alleys had taken a toll on his overall health, and there was nothing he could do to fix his weaknesses now. Even if it killed him, he had to come through for Crush. His knees shaky, he stood up as straight as he could, and then he proceeded one feeble step at a time up the stairway.
“Two more flights,” he thought to himself as he leaned forward and onward. His heart pounded to the beat of a snare drum, yet he continued dizzily onto the eighth floor. Peering down the hall, he knew he was alone on this floor, but with the evidence room on the ninth floor, he surmised that a guard would be on duty there.
Uncanny Tales of Crush and Pound 4 Page 2
