Cryptid Quest: A Supernatural Thriller (The John Decker Supernatural Thriller Series Book 8)

by Anthony M. Strong

  A middle-aged woman in an evening gown was exiting the lobby carrying a small lapdog. She quickly turned and retreated inside. People scattered in all directions. Someone screamed.

  Halfway across the road, Paulo stopped and turned, wondering what the commotion was.

  “Don’t stop,” Decker shouted, waving toward the confused taxi driver. “Get in the car, now.”

  The two gunmen were regrouping. They stepped out from their concealment. Decker sent another bullet their way. It took a chunk out of a column close enough to make the nearest gunman flinch and scurry backwards.

  Paulo was on the move again. He dashed across the road’s last two lanes and pulled the taxi door open, throwing the bags onto the front passenger seat and diving in even as one of the dark-suited men got off a shot of his own. The bullet punched through the taxi’s door and buried itself into the side of the driver’s seat, inches from its target.

  Paulo let loose with a string of curses in Portuguese and slammed the car into gear, then spun the steering wheel before accelerating away with a screech of tires.

  Decker turned and looked through the back window in time to see the black SUV come streaking up and collect the gunmen. As soon as they climbed in, it shot forward, almost hitting a sleek black limousine that was trying to pull under the portico out of the way. Then the SUV gave chase.

  “They’re coming after us,” Rory said, his voice rising in pitch. “Don’t these guys ever give up?”

  “The evidence would appear to suggest not.” Decker wished he could call Adam Hunt for backup, but knew they were on their own. Besides, he’d disassembled their phones to make sure the men currently chasing them couldn’t track their whereabouts.

  “Don’t worry,” Paulo said, swinging the wheel hard and steering the speeding taxi down a side street. “I make sure they won’t catch us.”

  “How are you going to do that?” Rory asked, watching the SUV accelerate toward them. “They’re gaining on us.”

  “I have excellent idea.” Paulo reached toward the taxi’s two-way radio and unhooked the mic. He spoke quickly, then listened to the reply, then spoke again.

  Decker and Rory exchanged glances, unable to understand him.

  From behind them, the roar of the SUV’s engine got louder. It was a much newer vehicle than their own aging cab, and it was only a matter of time before it caught up with them.

  Decker looked down at the gun in his lap. He had three bullets left, plus the two magazines he’d stripped from the man in the restaurant kitchen. He didn’t want to waste ammo. It was turning into a long night, and they might need every bullet they could get.

  He risked another glance backwards. The black SUV had gained ground. Decker couldn’t see inside, but there must be at least three men, including the driver. They would all be armed. He wondered where the police were. After the shooting in the restaurant, they had arrived in no time at all, but now the streets were quiet. Even though Decker had fired two shots back at the hotel, he couldn’t hear sirens. That was a bad sign. It meant that whoever was pursuing them had enough clout to sideline local law enforcement.

  Paulo reached an intersection and took a left, then pushed the vehicle’s accelerator to the floor, coaxing every ounce of speed from the old Mercedes.

  “We will lose them soon,” the taxi driver said, glancing back over his shoulder toward Decker and Rory. “You will see.”

  “Not sure how we’re going to do that,” Rory said, turning to look at their pursuers. “If anything, we’re about to get caught.”

  “Just wait.” Paulo turned his attention forward again.

  They were coming up on a large two-lane rotary now. A monument on a pedestal rose from the center island. Paulo entered the traffic circle and shifted into the inside lane, slipping behind another white Mercedes with a taxi sign on the roof.

  Decker turned to see what the SUV was doing. It was about to enter the rotary, but then slammed on its brakes as a third identical taxi appeared from the left and cut it off. The taxi then fell in behind their own vehicle.

  “What’s going on?” Rory’s gaze shifted between the taxi in front of them and the taxi at their rear.

  “Reinforcements,” Paulo said with a grin.

  The SUV had entered the rotary now and was speeding toward them. Paulo picked up the radio handset again and started talking fast. A moment later, the cab ahead of them shifted into the right lane and slowed down.

  Paulo sped up and let the taxi behind fill in the space, creating a rolling roadblock.

  The SUV changed lanes, then changed back again.

  Yet another white Mercedes appeared, merging onto the rotary from their right. Now there were four similar taxi cabs ahead of the SUV as the cars completed a full circuit of the traffic circle.

  Paulo barked more instructions into the radio and the cabs shifted places, changing lanes and positions like a crazy automotive version of the shell game. Then, after one more quick exchange, the four cars split up, and each took a different exit off the rotary.

  Decker watched the SUV make another trip around, clearly confused. The only way the gunmen could identify their own vehicle was if someone inside had written down their license plate. But he suspected they hadn’t thought to do that, which left a one in four chance of the gunmen picking the right vehicle.

  Decker held his breath as the SUV approached their exit, but then it cruised on past and took the next one, following one of the other taxis into the night. They were safe, at least for now, and it was all thanks to Paulo’s quick thinking.

  17

  Decker watched the fading red glow of the SUV’s taillights as it followed one of the decoy taxis. After the vehicle had driven off into the night, he turned to look at Paulo. “That was a fancy maneuver, back there. I’m impressed.”

  “But where did those other taxis even come from?” Rory asked. “I radio my boss,” Paulo replied. “He has many cabs just like this one.”

  “Well, I’m glad he agreed to help,” Decker said.

  “He believes there is too much crime here, just like me.” Paulo had slowed the cab to a more moderate speed now. “It makes us look bad. He also doesn’t like criminals shooting at his taxis.”

  “Please thank him from us when you see him next.” Decker unscrewed the suppressor from the gun and put them both out of sight.

  “I’m happy we escaped with our lives,” Rory said, “but what are we going to do now? We haven’t eaten yet and we have nowhere to stay tonight.”

  “I don’t know, yet.” Decker was hungry too. But stopping for food would be risky. Once the men in the black SUV realized they were following the wrong vehicle, they would circle back. And they might not be the only ones looking for Decker and Rory. Who knew how many other operatives their unknown enemy had in the city?

  “No worries, my friends. I take care of that too,” Paulo said. “We go to a safe place now where you can eat and sleep.”

  Decker leaned forward. “Where do you intend to take us?”

  “We will visit with my sister, Aline. She lives outside the city. We hide there tonight, and I take you where you want to go in the morning.”

  “Works for me,” Decker said. He looked at Rory. “You down with that?”

  “Unless Paulo’s sister is going to shoot at us, I’m just dandy with it.” Rory forced a smile.

  “Excellent.” Paulo slapped the dashboard. He reached for the FM radio and turned it on, then fiddled with the chooser. “We should have music to pass the time, it will take us an hour to get there.”

  Decker glanced at his watch. It was almost eleven at night. By now they should have been back at the hotel and climbing into their comfortable beds instead of driving through the darkness as hunted men. He leaned back and closed his eyes as the heavy beat of a Brazilian rock band filled the car.

  In the driver’s seat, Paulo hummed the tune for a while, then started to sing in an off key yet strangely melodic voice. If their close call and the bullet hole in th
e side of his taxi upset him, he didn’t show it.

  18

  It wasn’t long before they left the lights of the city behind and were speeding down a two-lane carriageway with dark forest on one side and a plateau of cleared land on the other. Piles of stacked tree trunks stripped of their foliage sat near the road.

  Paulo pointed as they zipped by. “They clear rainforest here to build more slums. Too many people come looking for work in free-trade zone. It is sad. Manaus used to be a great city, but now it is exploited by foreign corporations who only care about profits.”

  “Why doesn’t your government stop it?” Rory asked.

  “A good question, my friend.” Paulo turned onto a narrow side road with cracked and potholed asphalt.

  Decker saw the outline of small dwellings on both sides, some of which had faint light glowing from within, while others were dark and seemingly abandoned. They followed the road for several miles, bumping along over the uneven surface. Between the broken asphalt and the taxi’s bad suspension, Decker felt like his bones were being jarred out of their joints.

  Just when he thought the trip would never end, Paulo pulled the taxi up in front of a small house built of blocks. A tin roof jutted out from the front of the building, creating a small overhanging porch with a dirt floor that fronted an equally dusty sidewalk. A red moped stood at the curb in front of the house. A cooler was strapped on top of the rear fender with bungee cords.

  Paulo killed the taxi’s engine and turned to face his passengers in the back. “This is my sister’s house. I called her when I was getting your stuff from hotel. She is expecting us. No bad men will come here.”

  “Thank you for helping us,” Decker said after they had exited the taxi and grabbed their travel bags from the front seat. “I don’t know what we would have done otherwise.”

  “It is no problem.” Paulo motioned for Rory and Decker to follow him. “Come.”

  Paulo’s sister, Aline, was waiting when they reached the front door. She opened it and then unlocked a wrought-iron security door to allow them inside. She looked at Paulo and said something in Portuguese.

  He nodded, answered her, and then turned to Rory and Decker. “My sister does not speak English, but she welcomes you to her home. She has made us food if you are hungry.”

  “I’m starving,” Rory said. “Actually, I went past starving right around the time those goons were chasing the taxi. I’m not sure there’s a word for how hungry I am now.”

  “What’s on the menu?” Decker asked.

  “She make us galinhada. Our grandmother’s recipe. Delicious.”

  “Do I want to know what galinhada is?” Rory said.

  “Does it matter?” Decker was already following Paulo and his sister to the back of the shack, where there was a small kitchen area with a wooden table and four chairs in the middle.

  Paulo glanced back over his shoulder. “It is chicken and rice cooked in a pot. It also has pequi. That is a fruit from rainforest. You will like.”

  “I hope so. I don’t do well with ethnic food,” Rory said. But even so, when Aline handed him a bowl with a generous serving, he settled at the table and dug straight in. After a couple of mouthfuls, he looked up, surprised. “Hey, this is really good.”

  Paulo beamed with pride. “I told you. Old family recipe.”

  After that, they ate in silence. Both Decker and Rory allowed Aline to serve them second helpings, which they consumed with almost as much gusto as the first. They washed it down with a lemonade concoction made with limes and sweetened with condensed milk.

  Afterward, when they had finished their meal, Aline spoke quickly to her brother, before picking up their bowls and taking them to the sink.

  Paulo slapped the backs of the two men. “Come along. My sister says you look tired. I show you the room where you will sleep.”

  They followed the taxi driver down a short corridor and into a room not much bigger than a walk-in closet. The only furniture was a set of bunk beds and a small nightstand under a window with iron bars on it.

  “I am sorry it is not like the Casa Amazonia,” Paulo said. “But you will be comfortable.”

  “I’m sure we will,” Decker said. “And thank you again for the hospitality. Please also thank your sister.”

  “Sure, sure.” Paulo nodded enthusiastically. “I leave you alone now. In the morning I take you wherever you want to go.”

  Decker dropped his bag on the floor next to the nightstand. “Is there a bathroom where we can freshen up?”

  “It is first door on right in hallway.” Paulo hesitated in the doorway, looking between the two men. “You need anything else?”

  “No.” Decker shook his head.

  “Okay.” Paulo retreated into the corridor and disappeared back toward the kitchen. From somewhere inside the building a radio was playing, and they could hear Aline washing dishes even though it was past midnight.

  Decker tested the mattress on the top bunk and found it to be agreeably plush. He rummaged in the travel bag for his toiletries case and headed toward the door. “You can take the bottom bunk. I’ll take the top. I’ll be back soon.”

  “Sure.” Rory nodded and pulled the covers aside on the lower bunk.

  Decker went to the bathroom and cleaned his teeth. He splashed water on his face, then returned to the bedroom. When he stepped inside, Rory was already asleep on the bottom bunk with a sheet draped around his shoulders. He was snoring.

  Decker undressed, then he turned off the light and climbed up onto the top bunk. Soon he was asleep, too.

  19

  Decker awoke to a rooster crowing so loud he thought it must be in the room with him. He sat up, forgetting he was in a bunk bed, and almost cracked his head on the low ceiling.

  “What is that terrible noise?” Rory said from the bottom bunk. “It sounds like the alarm clock from hell.”

  “You never heard a rooster before?” Decker swung his legs off the bed and clambered down the ladder to the floor.

  Rory sat propped up on his elbows, looking bleary-eyed. “I grew up in Boston. We didn’t have roosters. We had garbage trucks and snowplows to wake us up. It’s just more civilized.”

  “Well, where I come from, we had roosters aplenty. Not to mention every other kind of poultry you could think of. There was even a chicken that used to walk through the local coffee shop and lay eggs in the plant pots outside.”

  “This place must be like a homecoming to you, then.”

  “Not really,” Decker said as he got dressed.

  He stepped toward the door. “I’m going to see if our friend, Paulo, is awake yet.”

  “Sure.” Rory climbed from the bed and grabbed his travel bag. “What time is it, anyway?”

  “Early. A little after six.”

  “No wonder I still feel tired. Couldn’t we have set that rooster to go off an hour later?”

  “Not sure it works like that,” Decker said with a laugh, then stepped out into the corridor and closed the bedroom door.

  He made his way to the kitchen, where Aline was already fussing around.

  When he entered, she looked around. “Olá.”

  “Hello.” Decker went to the front of the house and peered out through the window. The taxi was still parked where they’d left it the night before. The narrow road was empty with no sign the gunmen in the black SUV had found them. Even so, he didn’t want to take any chances. They would need to be careful. When he turned to go back to the kitchen, Paulo appeared.

  He shot Decker a quizzical look. “You check the coast is clear?”

  “Yes.” Decker nodded. “Those guys that chased us last night meant business. I don’t want to bring that down on your family.”

  “It will be okay.” Paulo motioned for Decker to follow him back into the kitchen. “They won’t find us here. Even if they ask at taxi depot, it is still safe. No one there knows I have a sister. Not their business.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Decker said. “Regardless, I
would like to leave as soon as possible. We’ve chartered a helicopter to take us to into the Amazon. It will be waiting for us.”

  “You sure it’s safe?” Rory asked, entering the kitchen. “What if those goons know about the helicopter. They could be waiting for us.”

  “Already thought of that. Hopefully it’s all good, but I have no intention of just strolling blindly into a trap.” Decker turned to Paulo. “Are you ready to go?”

  “You want to leave now?” Paulo exchanged a look with his sister. He said something to her in Portuguese, and she replied, shaking her head vigorously. He looked back at Decker. “Aline says you must have breakfast first. Cannot travel hungry. Eat, then I take you.”

  “That’s very generous of her, but the longer we stay here, the longer you’re both in danger,” Decker said. “Like I said, I want to be in the air as quickly as possible.”

  Aline slapped a hand on the table. She looked at Decker and said something he didn’t understand.

  Paulo laughed. “My sister says it will offend her if you do not eat before you leave. There is time, I promise. Airport is less than an hour away.”

  “Surely we can stay for breakfast,” Rory said. “It would be rude not to.”

  “Alright,” Decker said, against his better judgment. But at the same time, he didn’t want to upset their host. To Paulo, he said, “You win. We’ll have breakfast here, but then we leave straight afterward. Understood?”

  “Yes, yes. I understand.” Paulo spoke to his sister, and she went to work, fussing about the kitchen and preparing a breakfast of ham and eggs. Less than fifteen minutes later, they were sitting at the table, eating heartily.

  “This is good,” Decker said, digging into his food. “If we weren’t in such a hurry, I might decide to stay here for a few days just for this cooking.”

  Paulo grinned and translated Decker’s complement for his sister, who beamed with pride. Then he looked back toward Decker with a concerned look on his face. “I am not prying, but why were men with guns chasing you, anyway?”