by Paul Seiple
“I think you should pay close attention to Cobb’s left arm when you meet with him,” Jaime said.
She reached for a crime scene photo of Angus Thornberry. Jaime didn’t wait for Noah to tell her he had already seen the photo. She pointed the markings out on Thornberry’s left arm. The marks weren’t as dark as the others, but they were there. Noah eyed the root-like streaks and scratched the five o’clock shadow on his chin.
“You know the guy who shot Alvarez and Mackenzie had the mark too,” Jaime said.
“Do you think someone is pushing a new drug or something?” Noah said.
“I think something really grabbed Mark’s arm that night on the porch,” Jaime said.
Noah shook his head and took a deep breath.
“Something beyond our control is at work here, Noah.”
“You’ve been talking to Don again, haven’t you?” Noah asked.
“Well, he is in town,” Jaime said.
Noah stared at Jaime.
“There’s a body count of at least six not counting the diner and all the victims have black marks on their left arms. They don’t teach this at the academy,” Jaime said.
“What’s Don think?” Noah asked.
“He’s not sure yet,” Jaime said.
“Do you know how crazy this sounds?” Noah asked.
“I wouldn’t float this theory to the district attorney,” Jaime said.
"All right, well, I’m going to see Cobb,” Noah said.
“Be careful,” Jaime said. “And don’t let him touch you.”
“I don’t plan out it, but why?” Noah asked.
“Whatever is infecting Cobb, and the others, could be contagious,” Jaime said.
“Like a virus?” Noah asked.
“Just don’t let Cobb touch you,” Jaime said.
Noah sat back down and rolled up the left sleeve of his flannel shirt.
“What’s wrong?” Jaime asked.
“I checked Thornberry for a pulse,” Noah said, rubbing his forearm.
Jaime zeroed in Noah’s skin. There were no black marks. “We don’t know that it’s contagious.”
“And if it is?” Noah said.
Jaime thought back to Noah’s sudden mood swings. How he left her at the elevator, and that she hugged him. “Don’t let Cobb touch you and watch your arm for marks.”
Noah rolled his sleeve down and took a few deep breaths before leaving the room.
“Please God, let me be wrong about this,” Jaime said.
Cobb sat on the thin mattress, ignoring the springs poking into his right thigh. He rolled up his sleeve and eyed the black lines pulsating just beneath his skin, which was pale and not too many shades different from his white shirt.
“What is happening to me?”
Cobb didn’t expect an answer, but a dull ache gripped his neck just below his earlobe before the words, “There is no shame in knowing thy true self” rattled his eardrum. Cobb jumped up and rubbed his ear.
“Who’s there?” he asked.
“Only you, Neil Cobb.”
Cobb walked to the edge of the cell and looked through the bars. The hallway was empty. Given his violent actions earlier, he was the only person in holding.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Cobb asked.
“You’re freeing yourself from the chains that have bound you. Doesn’t it feel good to be yourself?”
A clanging sound echoed through the hallway. The creaking of a metal door followed it. A fetid smell sank into Cobb’s nostrils and tickled his throat, making him gag. His skin turned feverish. The black lines on his left arm split and rooted up the sleeve. He pulled the shirt back down over his arm.
“Reverend Cobb, Detective Noah Wright is here to talk with you,” a guard said, unlocking the cell.
Noah stepped out of the guard’s shadow. Hate built up in Cobb’s throat. He fought back the vile words ping-ponging through his mind. He wanted to wrap his hands around Noah’s throat and choke the life from his body. But why? Cobb had never had a bad word to say about Noah. Beyond that, he prided himself on being a peaceful man. A man of the Lord.
“I’ll be fine,” Noah said as he walked into the cell.
“I’d fell better if I stayed with you,” the guard said.
Noah shifted his eyes to Cobb, who sat on the edge of a cot and pressed his body into the corner of a concrete wall like a scared animal. Cobb was seventy-two, overweight, and a short man, just a shade under five-foot-five. Noah was six-three and around two hundred and ten pounds. Nothing about Cobb struck a fear in him. But Jaime’s warning kept him on guard.
“All right, if you want to,” Noah said.
The guard pressed his back against the bars and crossed his arms.
Cobb shifted his position several times. Noah was all too familiar with the scene. It was the classic junkie needing a fix move.
“Do you have a drug problem, Mr. Cobb?” Noah asked. “You seem anxious.”
The ridiculous question stoked the fire simmering in Cobb’s belly. He refused to answer.
“So, tell me what happened today, Mr. Cobb?” Noah asked.
Cobb didn’t answer immediately. He struggled with holding back words of hatred. He swallowed deeply trying to bury the rage in his gut. But it simmered. “Reverend.”
Noah corrected himself. “Sorry about that. Why don’t you tell me what happened today, Reverend Cobb?”
I beat the hell out of that ungrateful bastard, Cobb thought. I preach to them every goddamn week. It’s in one ear and out the other.
“He has said nothing since we put him in here,” the guard said.
Oh, shut the hell up, you fat piece of shit, Cobb thought.
“Help me understand why two men are in the hospital,” Noah said.
Cobb glared at Noah. His shiny black pupils caught Noah off guard. He backed up a few steps.
“What’s the matter, detective? Do I scare you?” The voice didn’t match Cobb. It was much deeper, almost a guttural growl.
The guard reached for his Taser. Noah placed his hand on the guard’s forearm and motioned for him to relax. Noah jerked his hand away, fearing he may have infected the guard if he was carrying the disease. He shook off the thought.
“Should I be scared of you?” Noah asked.
Cobb smiled. The left side of his face distorted and drooped, as if he had suffered a stroke. “The world should be scared of us.”
“Us? Who is with you, Reverend Cobb?” Noah asked.
“I’m not answering questions without my lawyer.” Cobb’s voice seemed normal.
Noah looked at the guard. Both held a confused look.
“The shadow is in all of us,” Cobb said. His voice deepened again.
“What shadow?” Noah asked.
“The part we all try to hide,” Cobb said. “Our true self.”
“Did your true self attack those men?” Noah asked.
“Now, detective, are you trying to get me to admit to guilt?” Cobb said.
“I’m just trying to figure out why a seventy-two-year-old reverend would assault his clergy,” Noah said.
Cobb smiled again. A shadow briefly crossed his face.
“Did you see that?” the guard asked.
“See what?” Cobb asked. “I didn’t see anything.” He let out a brief, deep chuckle that surprised Noah.
Noah caught a glimpse of Cobb’s left forearm. Thin black lines resembling roots pulsated below the flesh.
“What happened to your arm?” Noah asked.
Cobb pulled his arm behind his back, hiding it from Noah.
“Have you taken any drugs, Reverend?” Noah asked.
Cobb quoted 1 Peter 5:8, “Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.”
“This is too weird,” the guard said.
“You’re a sinner. We’re all sinners,” Cobb said. “I can smell the depravity hidden beneath all that fat.”
The guard reached for t
he Taser again. Noah stopped him.
“When did that happen to your arm?” Noah asked.
Cobb shifted again and faced Noah. “It happened when I accepted my truth.”
“And your truth is?” Noah asked.
“The world is a cesspool. You don’t deserve God’s love,” Cobb said.
“But you do?” Noah asked.
Cobb’s laughter echoed off the concrete walls. “God doesn’t deserve my love. I’ve spent my entire life spreading his word to deaf people.”
“Is that why you snapped earlier?” Noah asked.
“Those bastards needed the truth,” Cobb said.
“Your truth?” Noah asked.
“I’m not a vigilante, detective. Don’t make me out to be one.”
“Then help me understand your motive?” Noah asked.
“How many times do I have to tell you, you dense fuck?”
“Just one more,” Noah said.
The shadow crossed Cobb’s face against as he spoke and quoted 1 Peter 4:7, “The end of all things is near. Therefore, be alert and of sober mind so that you may pray.”
Cobb sprung to his feet and lunged at Noah. The guard tackled Cobb before he could get to Noah. Cobb’s head smacked the concrete floor. He went limp under the guard’s weight.
“You Ok?” the guard asked.
Noah nodded.
“What the hell was that?” the guard asked, getting to his knees. He placed two fingers on Cobb’s neck to check for a pulse. “Shit. He’s dead.”
Noah backed up against the cell bars. Jaime’s warning replayed repeatedly in his mind.
Don’t let Cobb touch you.
Noah stared at the guard as he rubbed his forearm that held a print of Cobb’s hand.
“You OK?” Noah asked.
“Yeah, my arm just stings,” the guard said.
Noah pushed his sleeve up and was relieved to see no marks. He stared at the guard, fearing he wasn’t as lucky.
Fifteen
Don walked a few steps ahead of the group. He was fast for his age. He fumbled through papers in his briefcase, which made the fact he was much faster than the others even more impressive. Kim picked up her pace to catch up with Don.
“Why is it such a secret?” Kim asked. “Why won’t you tell us who we’re meeting?” Kim asked.
Don slowed to a halt. “You’re right,” he said. “You’re members of the team now. We’re meeting Jaime Wynn… she’s my daughter.”
“You have a daughter?” Terrence asked.
“And an ex-wife,” Don said. “I don’t talk about her either.”
“Why didn’t you tell us you had a daughter?” Kim asked.
“It’s a good thing to avoid mentioning family when dealing with the paranormal,” Mason said. “Don’s just being cautious.”
“I wish Sam had been that considerate when dealing with that little demon child,” Terrence said.
“Kim had been touched as well,” Mason said.
“I know. I’m just making a joke,” Terrence said.
“Are you nervous?” Mason asked.
“Nah, not all. There’s only a possible unseen entity infecting people like a disease. What’s there to be nervous about?” Terrence asked.
“Jaime is a forensic pathologist. She’s seen an awful lot,” Don said. “She’s well aware when something seems to have paranormal origins.”
“Just how often is something paranormal occurring in this world?” Terrence asked.
“I think you know the answer to that,” Mason said.
“Yeah, I was hoping I was wrong,” Terrence said.
“Is Jaime a member of Project Specter?” Kim asked.
“Not officially,” Don said, waving at a woman in the distance.
A tall, thin brunette stood beside a white Mercedes with her arms folded around a pile of manila folders. She waved backed.
“Is that her?” Kim asked.
“That’s Jaime,” Mason said.
Don walked faster toward his daughter. He attempted to hug Jaime. She stepped back and said, “Let’s hug later.”
“Are you OK?” Don asked.
“Yeah, this thing just has me paranoid,” Jaime said.
“Rightly so. I’ve missed you,” Don said.
“I’ve missed you too, Dad.” Jaime took another step back. “Let me see it.”
Don waved his prosthetic hand at Jaime.
“It could be worse. I was expecting a metal hand or… a wooden one. Be more careful, Dad.”
“Hey, hot stuff,” Mason said, stepping out from behind Terrence.
“Hey, hot stuff, yourself,” Jaime said. She stepped away from Mason so he couldn’t hug her. Jaime felt fine, but she was worried Noah may be infected, and that meant she could be infected, too.
“And these are the new recruits I told you about, Kim and Terrence,” Don said.
“Hey guys, welcome to the weird show,” Jaime said.
“I feel kind of like a veteran now,” Terrence said.
“Having a demon violate you will do that,” Jaime said.
“Wait, you know about us?” Kim asked.
“Jaime is protective of the team,” Mason said.
“Sorry, I just like to know who’s projecting their demons on my family,” Jaime said.
Kim chuckled. It was laced with a hint of annoyance.
“So, anything new?” Don asked.
“Let’s go inside,” Jaime said.
Terrence held the door as the others entered a co-working space that appeared to be vacant.
“Is this place even occupied?” Kim asked.
“Just by us,” Jaime said. “Dad owns the building.”
“I have a few real estate adventures,” Don said, opening the door to a space on the right.
A long table with six chairs was placed in the middle of the room. The walls were bare. The carpet was a standard beige. There was a small stainless steel refrigerator in one corner. A small table on the opposite end of the room was home to a printer.
“Sorry, we’re not really here that often,” Don said. “Well, at least not enough to put a personal touch on it.”
“I’m not big on interior design,” Jaime said. She spread the folders over the table. “Since we spoke, there has been another incident. Reverend Neil Cobb attacked several people during a funeral.”
Mason picked up Cobb’s mugshot. “He’s my age.”
“Close, you’re a bit older,” Jaime said with a smile.
Terrence looked at the mugshot. “Did he hurt anyone?”
“He put two men, at least half his age, in the hospital,” Jaime said.
“Where’s Cobb now?” Kim asked.
“In holding. Noah is speaking with him,” Jaime said.
“Who’s Noah?” Kim asked.
“Noah Wright. He’s a detective with Cleveland PD,” Jaime said.
“Did you tell Noah your theory about these incidents being supernatural?” Don asked.
“I tried. I don’t think he believed me,” Jaime said.
“Any chance we can see Cobb?” Kim asked.
“You’re not PD anymore. I can’t even get in myself,” Jaime said. “But we should be able to visit the two men he sent to the hospital. I have a few connections there.”
“What are we waiting on,” Mason said. He paused after noticing light, black specks on Cobb’s arm. “He has the marks, too?” he asked, handing the photo back to Jaime.
“Yeah. And…” Jaime paused as if she was trying to find the right words. “If this operates like a virus as we think, Noah touched one of the victims.” She chose not to mention her contact with Noah. Jaime didn’t want to worry Don. He needed a rational mind to deal with this.
“Is he showing signs of infection?” Don asked.
“He’s agitated, but you know how he feels about the supernatural. He doesn’t have the markings,” Jaime said. “I need to call him.” She dialed Noah. The call went straight to voice mail. “I’ll make a call to get you in at
the hospital, but I have to go find Noah.” She leaned in to kiss Don on the cheek, but pulled back and waved. “Be safe.”
“Is Noah her boyfriend?” Kim asked.
“He used to be,” Don said.
Sixteen
Noah stepped to the side to let the first responders stretcher Cobb’s body from the cell. He monitored the guard, who was being checked out as a precaution. A tall, chubby man with a salt and pepper beard stopped beside Noah. He wore a dark blue windbreaker with the word Coroner stitched in yellow on the back.
“They’re piling up, aren’t they?”
“What? Oh… it seems that way,” Noah said. “Any idea on what killed him?”
“Too early to tell. Joe said Cobb hit his head pretty hard when he tackled him. I doubt that caused immediate death. If I were a betting man, I’d say it was a widow maker.”
“Thanks, Burt. Keep me posted,” Noah said.
“Sure thing,” Burt said. He walked over to Joe. “You OK?”
“Yeah, Doc. Just doing my job,” Joe said.
“Did you hurt your arm when you tackled Cobb?” Burt asked.
“I don’t think so. Why?” Joe asked.
“It looks like you got yourself a hell of a bruise there,” Burt said.
The black lines running along the inside of his forearm startled Joe. “That’s weird.”
“Let me take a look at it,” Burt said.
“Don’t touch him,” Noah said, pulling Burt away from Joe.
“What the hell, Noah?” Burt asked.
“Just trust me. Something was wrong with Cobb. The same thing has been wrong with all the victims,” Noah said.
“Are you saying I’m sick… like zombie sick?” Joe asked.
“No. But there is something about the black marks on your arm. Cobb has them too. I think they…” Noah caught himself. He couldn’t believe what he was about to suggest. “I believe whatever Cobb had transferred to you when you tackled him.”
“That’s not possible,” Burt said.
“Wait. I touched Joe. Do I have it?” an EMT asked.
“Let’s calm down. No one has anything. There has to be a logical answer for this,” Burt said.
“We need to get Joe to the hospital,” Noah said.
