The abdyos triad, p.12
The Abdyos Triad, page 12
"Working late, Alice?"
Alice spun around with a start. Placing her hand on her heart, she sighed at the sight of Garret Wilkins, the office manager, leaning on the edge of her cubicle with his dark brown jacket slung lazily over his shoulder. Alice smiled at her supervisor. "I have to get the last of these reports done before the board meeting tomorrow. I promised Mr. Stahl I would have the complete summary ready."
Garret laughed. "Working late for old man Stahl. I don't envy you."
"What are you doing here this late?" Alice wondered.
"I, uh," Garret pointed his thumb over his shoulder at his office, "I just had a few things to take care of."
Alice caught sight of one of the cleaning crew, a slender Latino beauty with long dark hair named Lupe, sneaking out of Garret's office. She was still buttoning up her powder blue blouse, her black lace bra draped over her shoulder. Alice slowly returned her attention to Garret. "How's your wife?" she asked pointedly.
"Good," Garret said cheerfully, unaware of what Alice had just witnessed. "Cheryl dropped the kids off with their grandparents tonight and went out with her girlfriends. Well, I better be getting home." Garret started toward the elevators. "Don't work too hard, Alice," he advised over his shoulder.
Alice furrowed her brow. "Pig," she muttered under her breath. Standing up, she stretched her weary body and glanced around the office, then down at her clock. It was almost ten-thirty. Pulling off her black jacket, she dropped it on the back of her chair and walked toward the large windows that dominated one side of the office. Placing her hands on the glass, she peered out over the city and yawned. It was going to be a long night. She still had three budget reports to complete, and she had to be back here at seven in the morning for the meeting. She needed coffee.
Turning away from the window, she moved through the maze of gray cubicles toward the break room. Stopping just inside the door, she surveyed the room. It was a mess. Multiple dirty coffee mugs lay scattered about with two open bags of cookies and one half eaten yogurt. It was a small room, only being able to accommodate four or five people at a time, but nicely equipped. On the far side of the room, next to the full-sized refrigerator, there were four coffee pots, a microwave and a dishwasher built into the cabinets. Alice frowned at the sight of the coffee makers. All four were empty, and she didn't have the time or patience right now to brew her own. Digging into her pant pocket, she felt just enough change to buy a soda. Alice spun and headed for the elevators. She would have her caffeine after all.
She hit the call button once, then again. She cocked her head back to see the numbers above the door. The elevator was slowly rising. She hated having to run all the way down to the lobby to get a soda, but that was the only place in the building that had a pop machine. She usually brought her own drinks to work, but in a rush this morning, she had forgotten. She had drunk enough burnt coffee today to kill a small animal. Alice laughed to herself. She knew she would never get to sleep tonight. One late morning and she would be paying for it for a few days. Alice brushed her wavy brown hair over her shoulder as the elevator announced its arrival.
Alice stepped forward as the doors began to slide open, but stopped dead in her tracks. There, in a broken, bloody heap, was Garret's body. He had been torn apart, then thrown in a pile in the center of the elevator. Huge swaths of blood were splattered across the sliver walls. The change fell from Alice's hand as she covered her mouth. Stumbling back, she had to turn away from the body. Garret was still twitching.
Running instinctively toward the nearest phone, she lifted the receiver and punched in 911. She listened to the rings on the other end as she kept her eyes firmly attached to the elevator. One of Garret's arms had rolled forward and was blocking the door so it couldn't close. Alice finally heard someone pick up on the other side. "Help me, he's dead!" she screamed. She waited a moment for a response, but heard nothing. "Hello?" Alice glanced down at the phone to make sure she had indeed dialed an outside line. "Is anyone there?" she asked in a panic.
Alice had to tear the phone away from her ear as a high-pitched whine erupted from the receiver. Dropping it to the floor, she ran to another phone. Picking it up, she heard the same angry whine. Letting out a gasp, Alice slammed the receiver back down on the base and stepped back.
Then the lights went out.
She staggered back, fear gripping her. She waited for a moment for the emergency lights to kick on. Glancing up at the unit on the wall, she saw the familiar red light blinking, but no floodlights. Pulling a chair to her, Alice carefully stepped into it. The lights now within reach, she twisted and tapped both of the bulbs. She slammed her fist against the beige plastic cover and stepped down from the chair. A noise from behind startled her. Spinning around, she peered into the darkness, waiting, watching. Her heart was thumping in her chest, threatening to burst out at any moment.
"Is anyone there?"
The sudden flash of light blinded Alice. Holding her hand up to her eyes, she saw the vague outline of a person approaching her. "Alice?" a familiar voice called out from the darkness.
"Lupe?" Alice asked slowly. The light was pulled from her eyes revealing the same woman she had seen earlier leaving Garret's office. "Lupe," Alice said again with relief. "I'm so glad to see you. What's going on?"
"I don't know," Lupe answered. She was standing in the mouth of an adjoining hallway, her flashlight in hand. "I was cleaning the offices in the other room, and suddenly, the lights went out. I think we blew a fuse or something. I tried to call maintenance, but all the phones are dead, too."
"Did you," Alice paused, "hear a kind of screaming when you picked up the phone?"
Lupe shook her head. "No, it was just dead."
The image of Garret's dead body in the elevator flashed into Alice's mind. She couldn't let Lupe see it. Not that way. "Lupe, do you know where anymore flash…." Alice stopped. A figure was looming just behind Lupe. "Get out of the way!" Alice screamed.
An inhuman scream cut through the air, then Lupe was gone. All Alice could see was the flickering beam of her flashlight on the floor. Alice took a step forward, then stopped. Whatever had Lupe was still in there, and it was probably the same thing that butchered Garret. Alice turned around and ran for Garret's office. At least in there, she would have four walls and a locked door to protect her. Pumping her legs hard, she was almost at the door when she heard the wail. Taking a chance, Alice threw herself at the door, hitting it hard with her shoulder. Chunks of wood flew from the doorframe as the door exploded open. Alice moaned in agony. She had easily broken her collarbone in the impact. Picking herself off the floor, she turned around to see a creature charging toward her. Controlling her fears, Alice flung the door shut and pressed herself firmly against it. She felt the creature hit the door with a thud which, through sheer force alone, almost pushed it open.
Alice cringed at the sound of another wail. Bracing her feet against the legs of Garret's desk, she held the door against the creature. She could hear the monster shrieking wildly outside. Alice was in excruciating pain. Every time she took a breath, pain would shoot from her collarbone. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. "No, Goddamn it," she scolded herself. "I'm going to survive. I've got to fight!"
A clawed hand burst through the door to her right and grabbed onto her broken shoulder. Alice screamed in pain as she tried to break free from the grip. With one motion, the hand had moved from Alice's shoulder to her throat. It squeezed hard, sinking its thumb claw deep into her flesh. Alice heard a gurgling noise as she tried to cry out again. He windpipe had been ruptured. The creature pushed Alice's head away from the door, then repeatedly slammed it back. After a moment, Alice's body fell limp.
Extracting its arm, the creature forcefully threw the door open, crushing Alice between it and the wall. Stepping in, the creature pulled Alice into the open. A single ray of moonlight broke through the clouds and spilled across Alice's body on the floor. The creature crawled on top of her and sneered. Alice's eyes slowly opened. Groggy at first, she had a concussion. She fought through the fog to focus. Her eyes widened at the sight of the creature. Alice tried to scream out, but again, only produced a gurgling noise. She shook her head back and forth pleading with the creature for her life.
Lexy flicked her forked tongue out, then smiled through razor sharp teeth. Reaching back, she sent her clawed hand deep into Alice's chest.
***
"What the hell was that thing?"
Bishop shook his head. "I wish I knew."
Hayden, at least five steps behind Bishop, was moving quickly to keep up. The two hadn't spoken since they left the mall, leading Hayden to further question Bishop's involvement. Here was a man, who at the time, didn't even know Hayden's name, who risked his life for him. One thing was clear: Hayden knew he was safe. For the first time in days, he wasn't constantly checking over his shoulder. This man, Bishop, was a hero and he owed him his life. "So, you never told me what you do."
"You're right," Bishop said acknowledging the question. He started to pick up his pace.
"And?" Hayden probed.
"I work with a group of paranormal investigators known as the Office of Paranormal Research." Bishop slowed slightly as they passed an open alley. Glancing inside, he again picked up his pace. "We research supernatural phenomenon."
"I know," Hayden said with a slight bounce in his voice. "I've been following the exploits of the OPR for years. At first it was hard, because you guys didn't release much, but when they started publishing you guys in various scientific magazines, it became a little easier." Hayden stopped dead in his tracks and snapped his fingers. "I knew I recognized you!" he said with a giddy laugh. "You were on Ghost Chasers, Inc. almost a year ago! You were a part of the now infamous 'Halloween Episode'!"
Bishop peered over his shoulder at Hayden. "You actually watched that?"
Hayden took a step closer to Bishop. "Who didn't? I mean, in paranormal chat rooms and message boards, that episode became the Holy Grail of ghost hunting. Although, there were those who said the whole thing was hoaxed, but those guys are idiots." He again scooted closer to Bishop, "Aren't they?"
Bishop smiled and nodded.
Hayden jumped up and down, but quickly tried to regain his composure. "I knew it. I just knew it. I can't wait to log on to the net the next time and…." The gravity of his situation again caught up with him, killing his train of thought. The joy melted out of his face. He had no idea if there would be a next time.
Bishop patted Hayden on the back. "Come on, we need to keep going. We're almost there."
***
Fowler and Allen moved easily through the hospital. Moving toward the elevators near the back of the lobby, Fowler checked a small scrap of paper with instructions hastily scrawled on it. Committing the information to memory, he punched the call button with his thumb. He turned and looked at his partner, who was dusting a bit of lint off the collar of his jacket. Allen was holding it all together very well, all things considered.
Allen flicked the lint with his finger, then turned to his partner. "Did they mention anything else?"
Fowler shook his head. "No, just that they had a body they felt we would be very interested in."
"How do we know this is pertinent to our case then?"
"We have faith," Fowler said quickly as the elevator doors slid open.
***
Spenser snapped his cell phone shut and stood up. "We need to go now."
Dawn and Kelley stared up at the older man. Dawn was the first to speak. "What's going on?"
"We have a new body."
"Another murder?" Kelley asked.
"No," Spenser said as he slipped on his fedora, "we think we have our killer."
Chapter Fourteen
Chairman Weiss sat alone in his office. He laid his palms flat on his large wooden desk and stared at his beige telephone. No word, not even a progress report had been issued so far, but, he reminded himself, it had only been one day. Standing up, he walked around his desk to the row of bookshelves on the far wall. Running his finger over the spines, he searched for one that he hadn't read before, or in a while, for that matter. He needed something to take his mind off the case.
Finally settling on an old, dusty volume, he pulled it from the shelf and moved toward the green leather couch he kept in the corner. Sinking down into it, he carefully opened the book, careful not to break the spine. This book was older than he was. Weiss flipped through the first few pages, then settled in. Glancing over the first paragraph, Weiss stopped and closed his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger trying to relieve some of the pressure. After a moment, he took a deep breath and sat forward on the couch.
Placing the book on a small, glass table, he glanced around his office. It was huge, by any standard. On the right side, sat his desk, bookshelves, couch and anything he needed to conduct business. To the left, he had a full-sized pool table (red felt, of course), perpetually stocked bar, personal bathroom and sauna, and a state-of-the-art entertainment center, complete with big screen television and a surround sound system. He thought about playing a quick game of pool or popping in a movie, but he knew he wouldn't be able to keep his mind on it for long.
He just wished he knew what was going on.
Weiss leaned back on the couch. They should have reported in by now, after all, that was standard procedure. He should know something…anything. He hadn't heard from his team, the police or even the media. He knew those vultures were just waiting for an opportunity to bash both him and the OPR in the press. Those arrogant bastards, Weiss thought, never concerned with how much work or sacrifice had gone into a project. They were only worried about their deadlines, and money. They didn't care what they destroyed as long as they had both.
Why didn't he know what was going on?
Picking the book up, he slid it under his arm and stood. Maybe he would be more comfortable in his chair. Walking back across his office, he stopped in the middle of the floor and stared at his phone. It was well after two in the morning on the east coast, and he had no intention of leaving the office until he heard from his team. He had to know something. They could at least call and tell him that his daughter was all right. They could at least have that courtesy, but there was nothing. Weiss began to pace back and forth in front of his desk. Minute by minute, he became more agitated.
Why in the hell did he not know what was happening?
Lifting the book into his hand, he flung it hard across the room. The book hit the wall and in a cloud of dust, crumpled to the floor. This was unacceptable. He was in charge for God's sake. This was his company and his daughter. Running around his desk, he perched on the edge of his chair and picked up the phone. Punching in a familiar number, he waited for someone to pick up. He began to tap his knuckles on the desk. "Come on, come on," he said impatiently. He perked up when a human voice came on the line.
"What's your earliest flight out to Seattle, Washington?" Weiss asked quickly.
***
"My God," Allen said. "What the hell is that thing?"
Fowler moved around the body, examining it. "There were claims they had made them back then, but I never saw one for myself," he said quietly. "This is extraordinary." Fowler held his hand just over the body, "I can feel the darkness in it. It's like a black hole sucking all life into it." He kept his hand where it was for a moment longer, then pulled it away. "The power they must have to create something like this."
"What is it?" Allen asked again. He moved around the table and grabbed his partner by the shoulder. "John," he said firmly.
Fowler looked up into his partner's eyes, almost shocked he had let himself get drawn in that far. He wrung his hands together and took a step back. "That is the product of some very dark magick. It's what's known in Voodoo as a zombie." He glanced down at the body again, "Not quite living, but not yet dead."
"Do we have an ID on this guy yet?" Allen asked the attending doctor.
The doctor shook his head. "He was rigged for silent running. He had no fingerprints and his teeth have all apparently been filed into points. It's going to be very difficult to get a positive identification on this…thing."
Fowler picked up a pair of forceps off a nearby table. Bending down to the body, he suddenly stopped and glanced over at the doctor. "You mind?"
The doctor lifted up his hands. "I don't even want to touch that thing. Be my guest."
Nodding, Fowler turned back to the body. Opening its mouth with his fingers, he slid the forceps in and grabbed the tongue. Slowly pulling back, he revealed the long, black, forked tongue. Laying it gently over the creature's bottom jaw, Fowler took a step back. "What the hell do you make of that?"
Allen shook his head. "It looks like a snake's."
Fowler nodded. "Except for these two barbs on the end of each fork," he said pointing with the forceps. "They could be part of some kind of venom system." He glanced up at the doctor for confirmation.
"I'll have to run some tests," he stated.
Reaching up, Fowler pulled the examining light down closer to the body. Grabbing a pair of latex gloves, he snapped them onto his hands and pulled open the creature's eyes. "Look at that," he said. "No pupil or iris. It looks like it's all been taken over by sclera." He bent a little nearer, "And you can see a fine web of blue veins just below the skin." Fowler stood up and snapped off the gloves. "Doctor, we have to get this thing open. I need to know what makes it tick."
"Isn't it enough that it can be killed?" The doctor asked, hesitant to even get near the body. "I mean, there it is. It's dead. Case closed. If you see another one, shoot it in the head."
Fowler shot the doctor a very stern glance. "Shall I put in my report that you were very uncooperative in our investigation? That could look very bad on your record, Doctor."
The doctor gave Allen an "is-he-serious?" look.
