by G S Eli
She set the parcel down next to Casey and checked the IV stand. A blood bag that hung there was empty now. Pulling on some protective gloves, the nurse removed the bag and carefully placed it in a medical waste disposal container nearby. “You scared us a lot more than that dog did, Miss,” the nurse said.
Casey wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be funny. German humor was lost on her, and the nurse’s accent didn’t help.
“But it appears you have made full recovery,” the nurse affirmed. “I will inform the doctor that you have finally stirred; he should be in to see you shortly.” She then walked out the door.
Recovery? Casey thought. From what? She desperately tried to recall her supposed illness as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
Jack pushed aside his blanket, went to her bedside, and stood looking down at her. “Are you OK?” he asked. “How are you feeling?”
“I had a terrible dream,” Casey answered. She extended her arms, stretching and flexing them as she sat up straighter against the firm hospital pillows. As she got the kinks out of her slender frame, she gave an enormous yawn. She was surprised by how strong she felt. Her muscles felt tighter and tougher. There was not a trace of soreness in her entire body.
“Yeah, I think I’m OK. Hand me my bag and turn around,” she answered as she reached toward the nightstand. She found her glasses and put them on, a move that had become almost automatic for her. To her surprise, everything looked blurry. She pulled her glasses off and realized everything had been in focus all along, without the glasses. She gently touched her eyes and felt no contact lenses. How is this possible? she wondered.
“You OK?” Jack asked again.
Casey began to pull her glasses on and off, comparing the crystal-clear world she saw without them to the blurry one she now viewed from behind the lenses. She looked all around the room. Her vision was clearer than it had ever been before, even in childhood.
“What’s going on?” she said. “Why am I in the hospital?”
“Mila thinks you were poisoned by the cursed nail,” Jack said. “That thing I found in the bunker, it—I don’t think you’re supposed to remove that IV.”
Casey ignored him as she closed her eyes and prepared for the pain of ripping the plastic tube out of her arm. To her surprise it barely hurt at all. She used the sleeve of her gown to stanch the bleeding, which stopped in seconds.
“Did you hear me? Turn around!” Casey demanded as she snatched the bag and rummaged through it for her clothes. Was he joking? Did I hear that right? Nail?
“It was like something out of a Whistleblower comic,” Jack said, sounding on the edge of hysteria. “Two men tried to kill you … there were corrupt police, neo-Nazis. And they even murdered a little Roma boy at the train station.”
“Murdered? What?” Casey cried. “Jack, what are you talking about?” she asked as she tore off the medical gown and pulled on her jeans and tank top.
“Casey, they tried to kill you,” Jack revealed, going on to explain about the two hit-men who Deborah thwarted.
“Kill me?” Casey whispered to herself. “We’ve got to get out of here!” She said while tying her sneakers.
Jack turned back toward Casey to find she was fully dressed. “It was the nail, Casey,” he said.
He told her what he knew about it, how the inscription in Latin had somehow changed to braille before their eyes, and how he had helped her touch the inscription.
“Then almost out of nowhere came a burst of bright light that filled the room. After that, the police stormed in and took Mila, Deborah, and me to separate rooms and began to interrogate us,” Jack explained. “I told them all I knew, and then they brought me here to sit with you. That’s when the doctor told me you recovered almost immediately after the burst of light. You see? It had to be the nail.”
It all sounded too fantastic to believe.
“Can I see it?” she asked.
“See what?”
“The nail. Do you still have it?”
Jack pulled back his coat, revealing the golden nail. Casey stared at its gilded surface, her eyes tracing the enigmatic symbols unable to look away. It was as if the scepter had been pulled from the painting that had captivated her in the train station. In person, the allure was a thousand times stronger. Entranced by its power and beauty she felt compelled to hold it. Then she recalled the terrifying dream from which she had just awoken.
“This was in my dream, Jack,” she said. “It called to me.”
Suddenly, the door swung open. Jack quickly slid the lower half of the nail into his pocket and repositioned his coat to conceal the rest. In walked Deborah, the nurse, and an older gentleman with a shiny balding head and a gray goatee that matched the color of his suit. As the door shut, Casey caught a glimpse of two other officers outside. They firmly held another figure between them: Mila. She gasped. She knew better than to say anything. Whatever you do, don’t make things worse for Mila, she told herself.
“Nein, Nein! Miss, you were not to remove that! Please, I put it back.” said the nurse as she went over to Casey’s bed to replace the IV. Casey pulled her arm away.
Then Deborah spoke. “Casey, this is Inspector Belz from the Berlin Police Department,” she said.
Without any word of greeting, the officer pulled out a photo of Mila. “Do you know this Zigeuner?” he demanded.
“Yeah, he’s…um…our friend, I guess,” Jack replied. Casey was silent, still trying to get her head around the situation. Plus, she was still a little off from the horrible dream.
“Miss, if you please, it is very important. Bitte,” he said, the German word for please, “look at the photo.” Belz held the photo out to Casey. “Is this the man that poisoned you?”
“Poisoned me!” Casey cried. “What do you mean?”
Belz went to the door and opened it. He waved his hand, and the two officers rushed in, dragging Mila by his arms between them. Mila seemed to accept it. He didn’t struggle or even try to argue.
“What the hell are you doing?” Casey demanded, taking an angry step toward the inspector.
The nurse instinctively rushed forward, trying to get Casey to hold still. “Nein, nein…lie down, calm down,” she urged, attempting to push Casey back into the bed. Casey pushed her away without even looking.
Jack was just as upset as Casey and he tried to approach Belz in protest. Deborah positioned herself between the two men, desperately trying to avoid more chaos.
“Enough of this!” Belz shouted as he ordered one of the policemen to position Mila in front of Casey, who was clearly distraught. “Is this the man who poisoned you in the train station?” Belz repeated. “Is he—”
“Poisoned?” Jack broke in. “This is insane. He’s innocent! He helped us!” he shouted as Deborah continued to hold him back.
Belz raised his arms and spoke loudly in a clear, firm voice. “Will everyone please calm down!” he said. “Let me explain. Deborah – Ms. Musef – has given me your account of events. However, I find little evidence for the claims of a TNC conspiracy. The Nationalist Coalition is undoubtedly somewhat controversial. But they’ve always been completely supportive of the work of my department, as well as of the rule of law in this country.”
Deborah’s face betrayed nothing of what she felt. But Jack looked dumbfounded, and Casey was in total shock. She thought with amazement, Something about this is not right.
“Little evidence? Forgive me, inspector, but what about the two TNC men who came in here and tried to kill her?” Deborah demanded.
“After weighing the facts and examining the evidence, I am certain that those men were merely kidnappers taking advantage of Ms. Richards’s condition, the cause of which was poisoning by that Gypsy,” Belz said assertively. “Besides, I have evidence that this young man has been thieving wealthy Americans for the past few weeks. Not to mention, he almost kill
ed me with his motorcycle while escaping arrest.” He seemed very sure of his position—and his power.
“That Gypsy—” Jack stopped, hearing himself use what he now knew was a racist term for the Roma. “I mean, Mila—he didn’t poison anyone!” He pointed at Mila, who still did not say a word in his own defense.
“No interruptions! You are not in charge here,” Belz snapped. “Nehmen sie ihn weg!” he shouted to the officers to take him away. Each of the police tightened their grip on Mila’s upper arms as they led the boy, still cuffed and silent, out the door and away. Belz shut it firmly behind him, then dusted his hands with finality.
“This is ludicrous,” Deborah said breaking her calculated silence. “The boy’s done nothing. Where are they taking him?”
Belz turned to her and scowled. “Ms. Musef, do not question my authority,” he told her angrily. “Your part in all this is questionable. Don’t forget that you killed someone. I could place you under investigation as well.”
“Someone that was pointing a gun at an innocent nurse’s head, inspector?”
He replied with, “Furthermore, I have the authority to revoke your passport.”
Deborah crossed her arms and glared defiantly at him. Casey’s chest tightened. She couldn’t bring herself to speak. A seething rage began to build inside her as she realized the injustice of what had just taken place.
“Inspector Belz, we know Mila. He didn’t do this,” Jack insisted. “I know what happened to Casey, she got cut in the bunk—I mean the subway—”
“You Americans perhaps do not understand about our Gypsy problem here in Germany,” Belz pompously declared, cutting Jack off. “Gypsies are vermin: a filthy, evil, criminal-minded race of animals. Crime is in their blood. They are skilled liars, with no regard for human life.”
“You are so messed up,” Casey heard Jack whisper under his breath.
Just then, Casey’s ears began to ring, and the quarrelsome words of Jack, Deborah, and Belz began to melt away. As if from a distance, she saw Jack getting angrier and shouting, putting the inspector on edge. Deborah held Jack back and said something reassuring. All Casey heard was the ringing in her ears and the throbbing of her own heart.
Casey could not control the rage in her body that had escalated to pure hatred. Belz turned to face Casey and extended his arm, as if to put his hand on her shoulder. “I realize this must be hard to understand, perhaps upsetting—” he began.
Casey reached across her body and seized his outstretched arm. Without thought, she leaned over and bit down hard on his flesh through the cloth of his coat. Belz screamed in pain and shock as she sank her teeth further into his flesh. She tasted his blood in her mouth and saw the dark red liquid drip out at the wrist of his coat sleeve.
Jack and Deborah grabbed Belz, pulling him away from Casey’s abnormal reaction. Belz began to frantically reach into his coat, no doubt searching for his weapon. Deborah moved like lightning to stop him, her bodyguard instincts kicking in.
As they pulled Belz away, Casey spotted the nurse in the doorway. The terrified woman crossed herself and ran away. Casey realized how monstrous she must have looked with blood running down her chin. What horrified her more was how the blood tasted. Instead of a bitter iron flavor, it was sweet. Disgusted by this realization, Casey spat out flesh and blood, nearly vomiting in the process. She slumped into the bed as Jack rushed over, protectively throwing his arms around her.
Deborah had pinned the inspector’s arms behind his back. “Let me handle this!” he shouted to her. “Get me back up in here! Now!” he then yelled out to the hall.
“What’s wrong with me?” Casey whimpered as she began to tremble in Jack’s arms.
Her hand seemed to move of its own volition into Jack’s pocket, instinctively seeking out the scepter. Her fingers brushed against the inscription. The strange Latin script was clear now. There was no sign of the braille Jack had mentioned before. She felt the grooves of the inscription. Obviously, she could not read Latin. However, she could sound out the words, but their meaning was strange.
They can save you, she thought, not knowing who “they” were or even why she would think such a thing. Invoke the power and they will save you. You don’t have much time…
“Whosoever utters this word shall possess the beasts: CALATIONIS” she whispered, not knowing where those words came from. Were those the words spelled out on the surface of the nail? she wondered.
“What?” Jack asked.
Suddenly, Belz released himself from Deborah’s grip, and while struggling with the strong woman he managed to pull out his pistol and point it toward Casey’s bedside. Casey could see the barrel of the gun that was about to directly fire at her.
“Impete!” she instinctively commanded.
They all heard a loud thud, accompanied by the crack of glass. Something had struck the window. Everyone turned to look, forgetting for a moment the chaos in the room. A long, ragged crack ran down the window. A German Shepherd rose from the ground, shook itself off, and trotted a few steps back. It lowered its haunches as if getting ready to run.
“Oh no…” Belz said.
The dog charged forward, leaped high into the air, and crashed through the window. Landing on the hospital bed, the beast began to snarl at Belz and Deborah, who retreated to the wall in disbelief. Jack pulled back from Casey a little. As he did, she let go of the nail. He looked at her, confused and frightened. Casey knew he was looking to her for answers, but she had none.
The other police and the doctor stormed into the room. The animal leaped for Belz’s gun, biting his wrist in the process. Shots began to fire in the room. It wasn’t clear if the police were firing at the dog or at Casey. “Run!” was all Casey could think to say.
Casey grabbed her purse, and leaped through the shattered window with Jack following close behind. As they fled, they heard more shots. Casey glanced back and saw Belz with his pistol drawn. The dog lay limp and motionless on the floor at his feet.
With no time to waste, Casey and Jack fled into the streets of Berlin.
XV
The Wolf Legion
The light of the sun broke through the waning storm clouds and shined across the narrow streets of Berlin, where it was reflected in the countless puddles the recent rains had left. The puddles glimmered in the sunlight like pools of gold as a lone dog charged through the streets. Splashing from puddle to puddle, the animal passed through an alley, then joined a pack of wild dogs that raced across the city like hellfire. There was fury in their eyes as they rushed headlong in a horrific stampede.
The pack of more than a dozen ravenous canines was not scavenging at random: they were racing through the streets with a purpose. Frightened pedestrians leaped aside as the dogs knocked every café table and anything else in their way to the ground. The bright summer day was transformed into a scene of confusion and fright as the dogs wreaked havoc.
A woman holding her little boy’s hand spotted the pack racing toward her, growling and foaming at the mouths like rabid wolves, splashing through puddles, and jumping over curbs and benches. The dogs loomed closer. Terrified, she pulled the child into her arms and tried to flee. But she was no match for their pace. They charged past her. One crashed headlong into her knees, making her tumble to the wet sidewalk. The dog stopped a minute to growl at her as she lay prone and terrified, clutching her crying child. Then some unseen force drew the mutt’s attention back to the pack, and he ran off to join the other mongrels on their strange quest.
The dogs continued on their course, raging through the tight streets, turning as one at the corner of Virchowweg Plaza just a few dozen yards from the Charité Medical Center. The pack headed straight toward the shattered, broken window of Casey’s hospital room just as Jack and Casey fled. There, the pack split into two groups. One gathered before the window and blocked Deborah’s path as she tried to follow Casey. The other went
after Casey and Jack as they sprinted across the plaza.
Deborah hesitated at the sight of the snarling hounds. She moved left, trying to get around them. They shifted to block her. She moved slowly to the right, and they did the same. Each vicious dog assumed an attack position and Deborah wisely chose not to challenge them.
She looked down the road to see how far Casey and Jack had gone. She spotted them running toward the main entrance of the Charité Hospital, where a police van waited
As the other pack of dogs charged after Casey and Jack, it seemed as if they would overtake the two teens. But, instead, the dogs fell into step with Jack and Casey like some sort of mongrel escort.
“What the hell?” Jack exclaimed.
“Just keep running. Mila’s in that van,” Casey panted as they ran. “We’ve got to get him out.”
Jack couldn’t argue with that. They ran toward the police van, ignoring the barking of the dogs that surrounded them. The vehicle was pulling out. It didn’t get far, for it almost immediately had to come to a stop at a traffic light.
“Come on!” Jack urged Casey. “This could be our only chance to catch it!” They bolted after the van with no idea of what they’d do once they caught up to it.
In the back of the police van, which was separated by a cage from the cab, sat Siegfried and Mila, handcuffed and bound. It was nearly empty back there except for the hard plastic seats that didn’t even offer the safety of seat belts. It had been quite a surprise to Siegfried when they brought Mila in. On top of that, he wondered why the Gypsy was so cool and collected. It made no sense. Gypsies make no sense, period, he thought. They were both being arrested, and surely they would be interrogated, booked, and thrown into a cell. Or they might just be summarily shot. He knew that was how things went sometimes, especially for Gypsies. So why did the Gypsy look so calm?
“They’re going to kill us in police headquarters,” Siegfried said, afraid.
“What? Why? Just relax,” Mila said quietly. He tried to figure out what Siegfried was so afraid of. He glanced at the back of the driver’s head: the police officer drove forward purposefully, in complete silence. Mila shook his head, hoping Siegfried would understand his gesture as a signal to be quiet.
