by C C Sommerly
“Nice to see you again Ginger. I’ve got the cameras down; you should be able to make it out the back entrance before the other guards notice they are down.”
She put her hand on his arm and he beamed. “Thank you so much Shawn.”
“Any time. It’s been a while. Next time you should come here for something other than work. I know a great restaurant you’d love.”
“So nice of you. I’ll keep that in mind.”
I followed closely behind my least favorite hybrid, Ruthie, but not because I wanted too; I worried she’d smack the living crap out of me or accuse me of cowardice if I strayed so much as a foot from her side.
The empty halls and tiled floor amplified every little sound, so I was grateful when it was only a short distance until the outside door. Purple Princess threw glares in my direction every so often, while Ginger turned back to check on me and flashed her megawatt smile. Two women could not be more different. Although, it was weird seeing Ginger in black, fitted cargo pants paired with a black tank top and some kick-butt boots. We all were dressed similarly — me in borrowed clothes — since I had no way to pay for anything of my own. What made it weird on Ginger was that she tended to dress like a displaced hippy in flowing, loose gowns and lots of color.
Once outside, Ginger pulled out a phone. “Just a sec, the driver should be here any moment.”
“We get a driver,” I asked.
“Why? You got issues with that,” Ruthie said, “because we’re more than willing to let you walk. I’ll see you later tonight and good luck avoiding The Demented. They have been all over this city the past few months.”
“Nope, a driver is fine by me. Besides, I need my trainer close by,” as I tried to link arms with her and she pushed me away and scowled. I just barely suppressed my smile.
Now that was fun, I finally got to throw her off. It’s only fair to return the favor, I thought. She made every effort to make things difficult for me from the insults to early morning wake up call to her standard and blatant hostility towards me.
A black compact car with heavily tinted window pulls up at the curb. “Nice to see you again Red. The rest of you hop in,” said the driver. We squeezed into the small back seat and Ginger took the passenger seat. As she cruised in comfort, we held on for dear life in the metal deathtrap as the driver screeched around turns and raced through the narrow streets. He finally slowed down once we got into one of the suburbs outside of the main city.
“Want me to wait for you?” the driver said.
“Appreciate that, but we’ll be fine. I’ll contact you once we’re ready for a pick-up,” said Ginger.
We all piled out into a very nice and picturesque neighborhood with multi-storied houses with sleek and expensive cars parked in front of each. It looked like domestic bliss with the white picket fences and lush landscaping.
“So guys, this is where the calls came in about the raccoons. We’ve been cleared to speak with the property owners,” said Ginger.
Ginger took the lead as we walked up to the house and supposed location of the zombie raccoon sightings. I snickered wondering how I was gonna keep a straight face asking about a zombie raccoon. It was so ridiculous and while I would normally be pissed off to be away from my demon patrolling, this was sure to be amusing, I thought.
Ginger pushed the doorbell, chimes rang out like the tinkling of bells and a handsome middle aged couple, with matching dour expressions, opened the door. “Are you here from the FBI? We were told to expect you,” said the husband.
I quickly cast my eyes down, so they couldn’t see my surprise. So, we were masquerading as FBI and that was how we were getting access to these raccoon zombies or whatever it was these two had seen.
“Yes,” flashing her badge and smile, Ginger said, “we were told that you had a possible sighting of demons or demented.”
Neither one studied the badge, but the wife’s eyes flashed with fear, “They ate our poor little Harvey, he was our fur baby. Not even leaving the bones, just small pieces of white hair scattered about.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Ginger smoothly answered. “That can be painful and I understand this is a difficult time. We won’t drag this out any longer than absolutely necessary. Can we see whatever photos or video you have of the incident? I noticed the security cameras.”
“We have everything available digitally on our cell phones,” said the husband, who promptly pulled out a sleek, tablet-sized phone.
He pulled up the video, “If you will excuse my wife. Living through this once was enough. She doesn’t need to be here to be traumatized all over again.”
His wife hurried from the room sniffling. He pressed play on the security video and we watched in silence as the small dog wandered around the backyard in the dusky light of day. The dog started frantically barking at the fence line, but whatever he heard could not be seen. A scratching sound of claws digging heavily into the wood made the dog bark in earnest. Several pairs of glowing eyes as what may have been half a dozen of malformed and malnourished creatures with finely outlined ribs lined up at the top of the fence leering over the dog. The dog screeched and turned to run for safety when they pounced. In a matter of seconds teeth and claws ripped into the poor pet as he was eaten alive. I’m not the biggest dog person, but seeing that little animal torn apart within feet of his home was tough to watch, especially from what I always considered a harmless animal. I could never look at a raccoon the same way again.
The raccoons had patches of fur missing and frothy pink drool ran from their mouths. Their eyes looked blank, much like the mindless look The Demented had. They swarmed and as one, leaped onto the fence and disappeared. A woman’s voice, presumably the wife, called for the dog. Tuffs of hair were sprinkled on the ground like a macabre form of confetti. I heard her screaming and the husband came out soon. Both ran to the fence and the wife scooped up the fur, cradling it in her hands as she screamed for the dog with tears streaming down her face.
“Have you seen anymore sightings or heard of anyone else in the neighborhood encountering them?” asked Ginger.
The man wiped his eyes, “No, but they’ve been back. My wife heard a scratching at the door and mistakenly thought it might be our little Harvey. Neither of us truly believed he was gone despite what we saw. The mind is funny like that.”
Ginger stepped forward and delicately placed a comforting hand on the man’s arm. “How recent was the last sighting? We’d like to trap or kill these things before they can hurt anyone else’s fur baby,” she said.
“Two nights past. They like coming just before dusk. You’re welcome to stay and stakeout or whatever it is that you do.”
He settled us into a homey eat-in kitchen with a large bay window framed with floral curtains. We sat down at a large carved wooden table. I sat as far from Ruthie as possible and may have moved my chair a tad too close to Ginger’s chair. She had a clipboard with her. She wrote out the timeline of events after talking with the husband a bit more.
The zombie raccoons had been back to the house three times since the dog was killed. Each visit was two to three days apart.
“What if we don’t see them tonight? Are we staying here until we do?” I asked.
Ruthie looked at me and waited for Ginger to answer. She was our lead on this mission. As the Boss had explained, each of the hybrids took turns leading a mission. It was important for each hybrid to know how to lead and be able to handle an investigation in the event that a hybrid was sent out on their own.
“We stay here until we capture or kill them. Besides, I’m sure the Jones’ would be willing to let us stay here doing surveillance,” Ginger said. “Each of us will take turns watching for the raccoons. Reese is gonna take the roof. It’s a better and wider view of the area from there, especially with our high-powered binoculars. They can see hundreds of feet out. We’ll have to get you a pair Teagan.”
The wife came into the kitchen. “Can I offer you tea, a drink, or anything to snack on whi
le you wait? We appreciate you coming all the way out here just because of our loss. Not much kindness these days,” she said.
Unfortunately what she said rang true. Since The Great Sundering things were more cutthroat and mean. People fought for the increasingly diminishing natural resources. And while there were many outbreaks of demon and Demented attacks, there was only so many people trained to handle them — like the Elite Guard and the hybrids. So, despite this being a wealthy community, what she said was true. This wasn’t typically something that would have been investigated let alone the FBI.
“I’ll take some tea,” I said, surprising the group. And why not I was going to get thirsty on that roof, because I wasn’t spending hours in the house confined with the Purple Princess. No thank you.
“Sugar, dear?” the wife asked me, while pouring boiling water into a mug and dunking in a tea bag.
The rest of the group was still looking at me like I had a second head. Marines could have manners. And, they were going to wish they had accepted when they got parched and didn’t have anything refreshments.
“Just honey,” I said.
I sipped the sweet and tangy tea as the wife stood wrangling her hands in discomfort. “Anything else I can get you? Anything?” she asked.
Reese stood up, “If you wouldn’t mind so much, a ladder. Me and her,” pointing a finger at me, “want to stake out these critters on your roof. More likely to spot them from a distance with a higher vantage point.”
The woman smiled, relaxing now that she had something to do. “Just follow me dear.”
We dragged a shiny metal ladder out of her garage and scampered onto the roof. We walked towards the edge closest to the backyard.
“Care to explain why you were so gun hoe to come up with me,” asked Reese.
No, I really didn’t want to talk or explain anything about being up here. My reasons were my own.
“Nope,” I said. “I just needed the air.”
He looked at me suspiciously in the fading sunlight. “And, this wouldn’t have anything to do with your mentor, would it?”
“Would it matter either way?”
We sat in silence as the last of the sun’s dying rays bled from the sky. Reese and I alternated use of the binoculars. It would have been nice to have my own, just another thing that I blamed the purple princess for. As my mentor, she should have made sure that I had everything I needed. Instead, she was doing her best to fight with me and discourage me from joining their team.
“She’s not all bad.”
“I’m sure she’s not, at least to most people,” I replied, keeping my gaze focused across the backyard.
I could see him out of the corner of my eye looking at me thoughtfully, “Ever wonder why you got the intro that you did with Ruthie,” he said.
“The whole ‘I’m a Grim Reaper’ one you mean.”
“That would be the one. So, you didn’t hear this from me and if you say you did, I’ll deny it to my dying day. Ruthie can kill with a touch. The Boss found her after she accidentally killed someone. That death was her first indication that she wasn’t normal.”
Oh wow, that, was not what I expected to hear. What would life be like not being able to touch people or animals without the fear that you would kill them? She was still a total witch, but at least this gave me insight on why she pushed me away.
“Got something,” said Reese, who had the binoculars aimed at the tangled forest beyond the fence line. “Not what I was expecting. Have a look here,” he said while handing the binoculars over.
“What am I supposed to be seeing and where did you see it?”
He pointed to a spot near the edge of the forest. Looking through the binoculars I didn’t see those weird raccoons, but a demon. In the forest shadows, I couldn’t make out colors, but wings extended from his back and a tattoo clearly showed on his face. He was protected by the treaty. This would be a capture and not a kill situation. As I watched, glowing eyes appeared next to him one after another until a large group of raccoons clustered around him.
Putting down the binoculars, I slowly leaned into Reese and whispered in his ear, “There's a demon with the critters.”
He bolted upright and grabbed the binoculars to confirm my sighting. A device quietly buzzed in three short bursts from one of Reese’s pocket. He slowly smiled and removed a bolt from the quiver on his back and put his cross bow on his lap. “The others saw our little friend and his beasties. Be prepared to move once I give you the signal.”
I caught movement near the left side of the house where Merritt stalked the fence line. He carried a bulky and unfamiliar gun. I needed to ask him what it was. It my years in the Elite Guard, I had never seen anything quite like what he had. I looked to the other side and saw Ruthie doing the same thing as Merritt, she was also armed and carried her gun, which looked like a cross between a grenade launcher and rifle. It was bulky, like Merritt’s, but longer. Great, I wanted to know what that one was too, but there was no way I was asking her.
Their approach looked like a classic pincher attack. Catch the adversary between two parts of your army, or in this case, team that attacks simultaneously. Ginger must be taking the frontal assault to distract the demon and its pets, while we were left to literally get “a drop” on the demon and perhaps take out some of those nasty little dog eaters.
Merritt and Ruthie had nearly reached the demon, when the device gave off two short and two long bursts.
Reese grinned “as soon as Ruthie and Merritt attack, be prepared to drop.”
I nodded and watched the hybrids. Yet another thing to add to my “ask Merritt list”. I needed that device and should be told what our hand signals were. If it weren’t for Reese, I wouldn’t know what was going on. Being in the dark put me at risk because if there wasn’t someone to receive the codes and translate, I had no way of knowing what was going on.
My sword was still in its sheath. No point in grabbing it now when I needed my hands free to drop from the roof. Good thing it was only two stories and I was a tough semi-hybrid, which explained my fast healing abilities.
Ruthie and Merritt sprang, and a net flew through the air from Ruthie’s gun. Pretty neat and I was asking Sherrill to give me one of the net launchers when we got back, I thought. Its metallic net clung to the Demon and the critters, who chattered and clawed at it. The Demon raised its dark eyes and started chanting. Sounds of broken glass being walked on, nails on a chalkboard and piercing wailing combined into a nightmarish sound soup. Throwing my hands over my ears did nothing. Darkness swallowed up what little light there outside and visions of bloodshed filled my mind. Screams of the dying and broken bodies littered the ground as I crawled among them running from something. Something was after me and would kill me, I shook and cried out for help, until … a slap hit me hard which rocked me out of the vision.
“Breathe through it and say a prayer. That usually helps since what you are seeing is only an illusion,” said Reese.
My face stung from the slap, “Thanks for helping me out,” I said and meant it. That was some heavy stuff that Demon was packing. Shadow Demons tended to be higher order demons and more powerful than your garden variety of demons. They were physically stronger, could manipulate your mind and were vicious. This was the same type of demon that the Demon Delegate was. Why was it running loose with a small horde of raccoons? I wondered.
Ginger ran out of the house towards the demon, while Reese and I dropped down onto the back patio, which did nothing to absorb the shock. I briefly stumbled before getting my footing and then grabbed my sword. We made our way to the contained Demon that Ginger was nearly to. She sure moved fast for such a little thing, I thought.
The Demon glared at us and when it saw me it started laughing. It was a deep and full-bellied sound. I looked around at the other hybrids, who appeared as baffled as I was. Okay, laughter was not a reaction I ever had during any demon battle and evidently neither had the other hybrids.
“We know what you a
re, and we will bring you down,” the Demon said and pointed at me, “but you are something altogether different, aren’t you pet? I will enjoy picking your bones from my teeth.”
Ruthie stepped up and kicked the Demon, “When I want a commentary from Satan’s spawn, I’ll ask for it. Shut your face.”
The demon chuckled, “You can’t kill me. How long do you think this little trap of yours will hold me? And, you think you can beat someone of my power? Naïve little humans.”
Merritt dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, rolling around to dislodge the raccoon on his neck. The raccoon that was doing its best to tear into Merritt’s skull. Its sharp claws leaving streaks of blood on Merritt’s exposed skin as it raked them down his neck and across the back of his head, which prompted Ginger to rush to his aid.
I felt something touch my foot and one of the little beasties, as Reese had called them, had eaten through the net and was trying to nibble on my boot. I slashed down with my sword, taking its head off. No sampling Teagan tonight, I thought.
More of the things were eating through the net while the demon just smirked. It was only a matter of time before the demon was out too. Now what? The hybrids weren’t supposed to use their powers and we couldn’t kill the demon since the demon was protected under the treaty. Ruthie took off one of her gloves, “No,” shouted Reese. “That’s not the way. He’s protected.” She put the glove back on after sending a glare Reese’s way.
The demon sat patiently under the net, “We will meet again, and I’ll make sure that you pay for hurting my pets.” He started chanting again and disappeared in a cloud of smoke. The rest of the hybrids took out the raccoons. Ginger reached down and grabbed one of their bodies.
“Need proof for the Jones’ that this is over, and we need to get back to the Boss asap. He needs to know about this demon,” she said.
She sprinkled a liquid on the raccoon bodies, and they started steaming and within seconds were just a pile of liquid.
“Can’t be leaving them to be eaten. They might be contagious,” Ginger added.
