Great Writers - K
Kailey Hamauei was born in Corpus Christi and raised somewhere between her grandmother’s Arabic kitchen, the public library, and the Padre Island National Seashore. Her passion is storytelling in any medium.
Taita's House
Off Ocean Drive in the old neighborhoods the homes have all been through the cycle: growth, stability, decline, and revitalization. Some have been through the cycle more than once. Most are pier and beam, many with original wood exteriors, some covered with asbestos siding so old it’s crumbling off in toxic chunks, and some with vinyl slapped on top of the asbestos.
Taita’s house had that kind of shitty 1940’s white aluminum siding that was slightly dented or bent every couple of feet or so. A healthy green and manicured hedge lined the front lawn and wrapped around the sides. The long, deeply cracked driveway led straight back to the detached garage where a small rose garden—with red, pink, and cream blooms—that Taita tended in her spare time. Her workshop was next to that, where she made lavish gowns with beads and Swarovski crystals for the annual Buc Days parade.
The gutters and trim were brown, the front door a flat white with thick gold address numbers made of wood. No one really used the front door much because the back was always unlocked, unless of course, nobody was home. Growing up in the post-slasher-flick era, and being an imaginative, if paranoid child, I often sweated with the anxiety of my grandparents being murdered in that house. Thankfully, living across the street helped me assuage those fears by simply looking out the window, or walking over.
Between the garage and workshop was a narrow passage paved with heavy stone slabs opening to the large alleyway where we spent the majority of our summer breaks. A grape vine had woven itself all along the chain link fence to the alleyway, producing small green bunches of pure cheek-puckering evil we would only eat on dares. Two large fig trees grew there as well. One stretched along the back of the garage and the other past the fence more toward the back lot of Mrs. Chakur’s house. In the late summer the figs grew rapidly from hard green bulbs into fleshy black orbs that eventually dropped to the ground due to their own corpulence. It was then that Taita would ask us to gather them for her, as well as to pick dozens of the most tender leaves from the grape vine and bring them inside for washing and preparing. On the small kitchen table her hands, blue veined and wrinkled with soft olive skin, made quick work of trimming the stems and veins from the leaves, boiling them in salt, and then rolling them up like small cigars filled with rice and ground beef to make warak arish.
The figs we would rinse with cold water and eat fresh. Or if we begged her, Taita would indulge us and grind them up with chopped walnut and bake maamoul cookies.
“Ya Allah, habibti albee!” she would chide me as my brother and cousins and I ate one after the other the moment the cookies were cooled enough to eat.
When it came time to clean up the kitchen and to do the dishes, they boys took off back outdoors as usual, but I would linger to help tidy. I savored the moments where it was only the two of us. It did not take long to sweep the worn linoleum floor or to do what few dishes fit in the small sink space. I felt sorry that Taita would do these things alone and even as a child, I feared the strain would tire her heart.
When we relaxed after, we spent our time on the couches in the living room. The furniture consisted of very oddly colored pieces strewn about the edges of the room. The sofa was a thirty year old relic, possibly older, with clawed feet, lime green and patterned upholstery and dingy yellow-gold pillows. There were a few armchairs as well, equally as odd with green and orange fabric, but it would be unlucky to get stuck sitting in them as they were not very comfortable. Taita sat in one of the two burgundy-colored leather recliners in the room. The other sat empty. This recliner had been Jiddo’s. The headrest was still worn—it had never been replaced—from where he continually had rested his balding, white-haired head evening after evening until he took his last breath and died while napping in it on a chilly day in November. The space between the recliners was where the paramedics attempted to revive him, around five feet from where my brother and I hid watching underneath the dining room table.
“Ya Allah!” Taita had cried. But not in the same voice I had ever heard her say it in before.
I thought of this every time I passed the spot. It was a hard image for a child to shake. Even years after, late at night and when I was sure Taita wouldn’t see me, I would curl into his chair and cry for him against the coolness of the leather; overwhelmed with the memories of my five-year-old self. After periods like this, days later when Taita would fall asleep in her chair while watching her novellas, sometimes still wearing her pink apron, the mortality and frailty of her would grip me. I would fix my eyes hard upon her ribs to ensure it was still rising and falling. Sometimes I resorted to even placing two fingers lightly to her wrist as she slept, like my mother had shown me if I couldn’t be sure.
As an adult, the whole house is much smaller than the one that lives in my memories.
The kitchen does not seem like it could have fit all of us grandchildren at once. There is nothing cooking on the stove or in the oven. There are no soft maamoul or twist cookies or sugar dusted kourambiedes tucked away into the dining room cabinet. The house has long since become my father’s rental property. Tenants come and go every few months, and now, what was once a home is abused and defaced as rental properties tend to be. The trees in the front have been cut down to nothing, black rot clearly visible from the splintered nub that was once a proud trunk. The hedges are dead as well, which brings to light even more imperfections in that aluminum siding. The front door is painted a loud and tacky red.
The last time I was permitted to see inside, the carpet had become so frayed that it had pulled away from the edges of the floor in places. The linoleum portions of the floor more worn than ever. Places that once were coated in cream colored paint now held a dinge that no amount of taking to it with a wash cloth could scrub away. New memories had been made in this place. New memories of strangers; and an influx of tenants who did not know about the place on the floor that used to be between two recliners. Or the place in the hall where Taita’s heart finally shuddered weakly in her chest.
But in the alley, away from the touch of the renters and the neighbors is still the grape vine, still flourishing more wildly than ever, and the two fig trees. It was a cutting from this vine that we now have in our own backyard. One which still grows and has now spread along the entirety of the back fence, reminding me of all those scorching summers all those years ago.
Karen Cline-Tardiff has been writing as long as she could hold a pen. She is the Editor-in-Chief of Gnashing Teeth Publishing.
Problematic
I.
My husband wears his red-brown skin like a badge of honor. It wasn’t always so. He tells me stories of being young and of difference, being teased and hit for that difference. He tells me of finally feeling the first hints of acceptance when he got his “Indian Roll Card.” He carries this worn square of paper proudly. His name and a number. He is Recognized. He is not Native American; there were no Americans when his great-great-grandfather stood against an invading force. He is not Native. He is now bound by a government he resents. He is Miami. He is Myaamia.
II.
She is white-passing. She will not let her skin dictate who she is. She of half of me and all of him. She is wild and more free than I ever was. She doesn’t know the ancient stories: she feels them in her bones. At 2 days old we could see it in her eyes. She was Wise Woman. She was Ancient Mystery and Healing. She was Before.
III.
I am white. Or maybe white. Adopted into white. No one knows. White appearing. I have no voice in the matter. In any matter. I sit in tears watching my family ignored, treated as if they don’t exist, treated like reservation trash. I must stay silent. When I try to write of my love for them, for their humanity, I am being problematic. I am too white to have words for the dissonance I live in.
the rain
Dios
Spanish for God
Dias
Spanish for days
If God is the masculine
And days are the feminine
Is God diametrically
opposite of days
Does time flow
As blood across El Mundo
The masculine Earth
Awash is lluvia
A feminine insertion
Of water into soil
God is Earth
Time is flowing water
I stand grounded
In the masculine
Yet cannot grow
Without the feminine
Without the rain to
Wash away the sins
Without the days
To tick tick away
Dios is plural
God is one
Full of many gods
We are Dias
Feminine
Days without end
We are Dios
Masculine
Love without end
We are Eterna
KCT 11-26-22
Death Does Not Come in the Spring
flowers push hard against earth,
brown sandy loam gives way to
a impetuous green, stroked all
night by moonlight before fracturing
into pink and white and petals, splayed
open, inviting insects to dive in, butts
in the calm Spring breeze, partaking
of the nectar, satisfying their buzz
the slideshow sky is a lesson in
cloud physics, cumulonimbus reposing
in naked delight across the stratosphere,
unashamed of it’s virga, it’s streak
exposed for the world to see
my husband ambles around our
small acre, imagining where to place
the much-talked-about fire pit which
never materializes; there is salt water
coating our windows, forcing us outside
to see the eruption in our yard, the
stickers and stinging nettle reaching out,
cleaving onto our soles, our pant legs,
their hope for reproduction depending
not only on the wind, but on our wandering
my daughter is studious in her bedroom,
her online classes keeping her engaged
beyond the four walls of our home, a
hope for the continuation of our version
of normal continuing beyond this Spring,
our ancient imperatives echoing inside of us,
the innate knowledge of Spring as a bringer
of futures, where Death is not welcome
Kenneth Bennight was a husband, father, lawyer, former Marine, and the author of the hard-boiled Nacho Perez stories.
Zeke and the Mystery of the Callaghflorian Crystals
Wheel Colony XJB776, Interstellar Space
The blue chick’s bright mane was no yellower than a jonquil and her clothes no skimpier than a clumsy pickpocket’s purse. She stood at the bar, her stripes pulsing to the beat of the music. I let out a deep breath. Middle aged, I’d all but lost my stripes, except when mad—or scared. She’d never give me a second look.
Stale ale and THC-product smoke wafted to me. Flashing signs lit the room. The bar sat on an outside bulkhead, and a four-meter diameter porthole showed the galaxy spinning around us. Pedants insist we’re doing the spinning. Whatever. I never tired of gawking. Every deck along the 100-kilometer circumference of the wheel was lined with portholes, but schmucks like me don’t live next to outside bulkheads.
I polished off my ale and signaled for another. It came quickly, and I flipped the bartender 500 People’s Credits. A year ago, 50 PCreds would have been ample. The damned Council would destroy the Wheel.
I cringed at the thought. The Council knew everything, but they couldn’t read minds. Well, if they could, they’d keep it secret. But if they couldn’t, wouldn’t they keep you guessing? I squeezed my eyes, shook my head, and took another quaff.
Three unmodifieds drank at the bar, a rare sight. No stripes, hair instead of manes, and limited, fixed colors. Merchants or diplomats, maybe. The Council won’t let unmodified people live here, and I hear modifieds aren’t welcome on other wheels. So the Council keeps us modifieds in and mostly keeps unmodifieds out. The better for the Council to keep control.
I was halfway into the second ale when Blue Chick sidled over. What did she want? Not likely my charm.
“Ezekiel Soorling, private investigator?”
I nodded and hoisted my ale in salute. “Zeke will do. How may I help you?” Maybe she’d be a paying client. One of those would be nice.
She bit her top lip. “Umm, let’s move closer to a speaker.”
The People’s Security Force had cameras here like everywhere, but the raucous music and cross talk likely drowned out listening devices. Still, she wanted to move, and she might pay.
At the table she picked, the pounding music pierced my ears. I sat down, and she snuggled beside me, grasped my hand, and whispered. I could hardly hear, never mind the PSF.
“Zeke, I need you to find something. Someone stole my Callaghflorian-crystal brooch.”
Her mane tickled my nose. I rubbed a finger over it and whispered back. “You can get a nice brooch printed on the black market easier than find this one. If somebody took it, the Council knows and allowed it.” Her perfume drew me closer.
She ran a hand over my thinning mane. “The cameras are showing us together, and we need to give the PSF a reason. You better kiss me.”
Who was I to argue? I kissed, and she kissed back. An altogether satisfactory exchange—at least from my perspective. I think my stripes even flickered. Being grateful for the cameras was new.
“I said Callaghflorian crystals. We don’t have the right minerals to print them.”
“If you upset what the Council’s got going, they may sanction you.”
She blew in my ear. “They and I both know who did it. It was the PO in my quarters group.”
I jerked my head back. “You want me to go after a political officer?”
She kissed my cheek. “Aren’t you man enough, Zeke?”
“Do you see “man enough” as a synonym for stupid?”
She smiled and held up a People’s Credit chip. “Run this through your scanner.”
I did. Five-hundred thousand PCreds. I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
She plucked the chip back from my fingers. “If you take the job, the chip’s yours—right now. When you get the brooch, there’ll be a second just like it.” I got another kiss on the cheek.
The kisses were great. A million PCreds was great. Being pushed out an evacuation tube, not great. I chugged the rest of my ale.
She waggled the five-hundred thousand PCred chip.
My landlord’s angry face appeared. My other creditors were none too happy either, so I took the chip and a deep breath. “What’s the name of this PO?
“Rusfornan Perforus. My quarters group is in the Tango Sector, Third Deck, where 25th Avenue crosses Prime Meridian.” She handed me a piece of paper. “Here’s a picture of the brooch.”
I took the paper. I’d never seen actual Callaghflorian crystals, and she probably hadn’t either. “This looks nothing like pictures I’ve seen.”
She tapped my left hand, which still held the PCred chip, and winked. When she got up, I grabbed her forearm. “What’s your name?”
“I know yours.” She blew me a kiss and was gone.
Synonym for stupid seemed apt.
* * *
The next afternoon, I headed to the Kilo Sector dog track. The crowd billowed through the concourse. I climbed to the mezzanine, looking for an area devoid of people. There it was, and there would be Wilfah.
Back downstairs, I smelled Wilfah not much sooner than I saw her. So her hygiene was better than most days. Her skin was so pale and so tight, it was hard to tell her head from a skull. The rest of her was covered in a long-unwashed robe of swirling purple, green, and blue, a visual warning of her redolence.
“Excuse me. I’m hoping for a tip on the fifth.”
Wilfah turned the page of her racing form without looking up. “What a damn shame. My crystal ball needs a new crankshaft.”
Mission accomplished. I headed to the track lounge and fired up a stogie. You could do that in the Kilo Sector. Mostly—if you were lucky. I was. When done, I discarded the stub in a public trash can—and slapped a gummed note underneath the inside rim. A nasty place. Wilfah’s idea. Surprise.
The next morning, I was back. Another smoke. Again, I mashed out the stub, dumped it, and retrieved a reply.
A political officer? Are you shitting me?
But the note was folded over. Inside, it gave an address and time. Good old Wilfah always came through. Except when she didn’t.
* * *
I ambled down the street a block from the meeting address, the same bar where I’d met Blue Chick.
I’d never have agreed to something this dangerous if I didn’t need the money. And I wouldn’t need the money if I’d chosen a real career. Why didn’t my momma tell me to be an accountant or something? I sighed. In her defense, she did. I just didn’t listen. So why didn’t she make me listen? I shook my head. The suffering our mothers saddle us with.
As I neared the bar, my thoughts turned to the PSF cameras. Here’s hoping Wilfah had control of them. It was both our heads if she didn’t.
In I walked. There she was—staring gape-mouthed at the porthole. Her smell reached all the way to the door, and the tables around her were empty.
“Wilfah, can I buy you another ale?”
She spun to face me but glowered instead of speaking. Bad sign. I ordered two anyway and pulled up a chair. She slurped down her ale, slammed the glass down on the table, and glowered again.
“I don’t care for being set up. Even if you’re indifferent to your life, I’m not. To my life, I mean. I am supremely indifferent to yours.” Wilfah sometimes talked as high as she smelled.
I spread my hands, palms up. “Wilfah, you’ve told me you’re so good that even the PSF can’t track you.”
“Puffing, schmuck.”
“You’ve hacked communications before. What’s the difference?”
“Not for political officers.”
“Is their stuff better protected?”
“Not so’s to matter.”
I held up the PCred chip. “Fifty-thousand PCreds.”
Wilfah narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips into a fine line. “Let’s revisit the split.”
I made a rude gesture, and she returned the sentiment. But she’d do what I asked. Her creditors were rougher than mine.
* * *
Wilfah signaled a meeting at the same place. She came in and ordered an ale. I gagged. Others switched to tables farther from us. I struggled to speak.
“Did Perforus take it?”
Wilfah slurped some ale. “Yep.”
“I’ll need your help getting it.”
“He gave it to his girlfriend.”
“Great. We can steal it from her?”
“She doesn’t have it.”
I slammed my fist on the table and felt my stripes glimmer. “Out with it, dammit.” I caught a glimpse of Blue Chick watching us from across the room. She pinched her nose and waved. She’d smelled better.
Wilfah shrugged. “She wore it to the market, and it was stolen.”
“Which market?”
“Delta Sector.”
“Naturally. Home of the lightest fingers on the wheel. So Perforus isn’t attracted to her smarts.”
“Who’s to say? She isn’t much to look at.”
Wilfah would know.
* * *
My Delta Sector clothes had ordinary pockets outside, holding only decoy stuff, and secured pockets inside, holding only the barest essentials, my P.I. license and a small-denomination PCred chip.
A simulated shower had just passed the central plaza, leaving the plants damp and the air cool and with a hint of moisture.
I sipped coffee and searched for King Klepto, the best of Delta Sector’s many finger-smiths. A provocatively dressed, young woman brushed by me, stripes fading in and out. At the same instant, a faint shadow appeared in my peripheral vision.
“King, long time no see,” I said. The woman scurried away and King Klepto stepped into view. His red wasn’t as bright as when we’d last met.
“Zeke, what brings you to my sector?”
“A favor.” I handed him a picture of the brooch. “This was lifted here, and I’ll pay to get it back.” I pointed at him. “I’ll even pay you for a lead.”
King studied the picture and nodded. “How much—in each case.”
We cut a deal, and I turned to go.
King grabbed my forearm and held out my license. “A gesture of good faith.”
“The chip?” I asked.
“Not that much good faith.”
It’s hell being a schmuck.
* * *
King set up a meeting two days later.
He scowled. “This is too hot to touch.”
“Come on, dammit. You can’t be afraid of your underlings.”
King shook his head. “This wasn’t Delta Sector people.”
“BS. You wouldn’t tolerate encroachers.”
He stared me dead in the eye. “It was the Family.”
That took a minute to penetrate. “The Family? They took time out from protection rackets and drug trade? I thought the Council allocated big stuff to them, leaving small stuff for people like you.”
King laughed. “Whether the Council controls the Family, or the Family controls the Council, who knows?” He chewed his lower lip. “Check out Rustovian’s Antique Jewelry.” He gave me an address.
He pointed at me. “One more thing, Zeke. I’m not forgetting you didn’t warn me this was heavy.” He walked away, stripes faintly visible.
He’d forget—if there was money in it. I checked my pocket. He’d helped himself to payment for the information.
* * *
That evening, I found Blue Chick at the porthole bar perched on a stool and smooching with a nose-ringed, purple and blue squirt, his stripes flashing, the type who couldn’t hold his own in a dodge-ball game.
I grabbed the nose ring, pulled him halfway to the door and pushed him the rest. “Go tell your mommy your nose hurts.”
When I turned back, Blue Chick was facing the bar taking a drink. She looked over her shoulder at me. “His mommy is a sector warden.”
“Then he’ll tell her.”
I grabbed her upper arm and steered her to a table in the back. “Tell me about the brooch. You’re paying too much and now you’ve got me tangled up with the Family.” My stripes gave a few beats.
Her face clouded, making it hard to read. But her stripes flashed. After a pause, she sighed.
“What?”
She dangled a PCred chip at me. “Does another 250,000 help?”
It did. I’m such a schmuck.
* * *
Wilfah harvested the antique shop’s communication data. On paper of all things! Some was nonsensical, mostly just numbers and punctuation. Code. I settled in to break it, a bottle of genuine Kentucky bourbon to keep me company. Kentucky was a street in Charlie Sector.
The next morning, pounding on my door awakened me. I staggered to answer while jackhammers whacked away in my head. I peered out to find the plumber. Oh yeah, a clogged drain. I tripped on the nearly empty whiskey bottle and tried not to throw up.
He glanced down while brushing past the papers with the unbroken code. “My kid’s reading that in school.”
“Reading what?”
“That book.” He pointed at the papers.
I rushed to grab them and nearly blew out my stomach. “What book?” I croaked.
He pointed closer. “Right at the top. It says Huckleberry Finn.”
“That’s a book?”
“Yeah, you can actually still get paperback copies. Can you believe that?”
“Huckleberry Finn’s a book?”
“Damned lot of good it’s doing you.”
The plumber done, hair of the dog settled my stomach. Off I went to the library.
“Excuse me, I’m looking for Huckleberry Finn.”
The librarian lifted a pointed face to me, turned it to the computer catalog, and turned it back to me with raised eyebrows.
I smiled.
She let out a long breath. “Do you have a preference for an edition?”
I showed her my paper.
She compared it to the catalog and pointed to an entry. “This seems to be what you want.”
I sat down and bored into the task. Taking the numbers to be references to page, line, and word didn’t yield anything intelligible. Neither did line, word, and page. But word, page, and line seemed promising. I shuffled through the pages to see how much text needed decrypting. Then I looked around. Did you know libraries don’t serve beverages?
Hours later, I had the solution. The brooch had a secret compartment with a chip, which was somehow related to the Family. I even learned the brooch was in the antique shop inside a book, naturally a copy of Huckleberry Finn.
Time to get the book. Now, burgling, I do. But connected people, people who might dump me out an air lock? What kind of schmuck would burgle them? A pattern of schmuckitude was emerging.
* * *
At three a.m., the shop was dark. I disabled the alarm—I hoped—and jimmied the lock. Nothing happened when I pushed the door—that I could tell. I crept down the central aisle to the counter.
Something moved to my right. I froze. Sweat seeped down my forehead, burning my eyes. Nothing. I waited. Still nothing. One foot forward. It sounded again. Damn. I was dead. Rustling and then squeaking. Rats. I was panicking over rats.
I found the counter opening, then a door to the back room. Through it and to the right brought me to a book case. I risked a small light to find Huckleberry Finn. I almost missed its faded cover, sitting as it did at the top left, well above my head.
I got it down. A recess cut out of the center of the pages held the brooch. Light in my mouth, I fiddled with the brooch until I found a latch. Inside was a chip outlining a plan for the Family to seize control of the Council. Holy shit.
The room light flashed on. Two grinning slabs of beef pointed lasers at me.
“Hand it over, pal.”
I considered my options and handed over the chip.
The one who’d spoken turned to the other. “Now what?”
“Fry him.”
As they leveled their weapons, I dropped behind a table and considered a break for the door. The room erupted in dazzling lasers, and I curled into a fetal ball. My body throbbed with the rapid pulsing of my own stripes. Why were they such bad shots? I could have killed me by now. The Mach Two carousel ride lasted several seconds and involved too many shots to have come from just the two guys. When it ended, I was still alive, not even singed. I wiggled my toes. They worked.
“You can get up, Zeke.” Blue Chick’s voice.
I staggered to my feet and held my hands up.
“Drop your hands, idiot.” From her tone, she didn’t need me anymore. Her nose was buried in a chip reader, and two men looked over her shoulder. A third seemed to be calling in a status report.
He paused and looked up at her. “So?”
She smiled and waved the reader. “Yeah, we’ve got it.”
The man making the report smiled and continued.
The beef slabs were on the deck and barbecued. Blue Chick and her buddies had done the cooking.
I felt lonesome. “What’s going on?”
Blue Chick looked up. “We’re busy.”
“The hell you say. I work hard to find this place, and then you’re here, too. What did you need me for?” My stripes still pulsed faintly.
“We didn’t know the chip was here until you found out. It would have been too high-profile, too heavy handed for us to investigate directly. You were a low-key tool.”
It sucks when a hot chick calls you a tool. “Tool for who?”
She dropped her head and slumped her shoulders.” Do you need a color-coded map? For the Council, nimrod.”
“Wow. So the Family’s done?”
She snorted. “The Family and Council overlap.” She gestured toward the charred bodies. “This is just a sibling quarrel.”
The pile of barbecue didn’t resemble sibling quarrels I’d seen.
Hopefulness buoyed me. “Where’s the rest of my money?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Zeke, you’re such a schmuck.”
Joyriding the Flyer
Jake banked his F-16 left at Las Vegas and headed north toward Salt Lake City. At 45,000 feet, the deep blue sky floated on a bed of white cumulus clouds.
“Red Rover to Miramar Control. Commencing second leg. Over.”
“Miramar Control to Red Rover. Roger that. Out.”
Moments later, the radio squawked again. “Damn, Jake. Can you see that?” Karl, Jake’s wingman, was to the right and a plane length behind.
“See what.”
“On my nose. The damn thing’s on my nose.”
“What are you talking about?”
Jake dropped just enough airspeed to let Karl pass. A pulsating, diaphanous sphere flew just off Karl’s nose.
Jake gasped. “What the hell?”
Karl banked right. The sphere’s relative location remained steady. Karl slowed, and the sphere did likewise, synchronized to Karl’s maneuvers.
“Remember in Die Hard when Bruce Willis says ‘Yippee ki yay?’” Karl called.
“Yeah, and?”
“Yippee ki yay.”
Karl hit the afterburners and passed Mach 1. The sphere maintained perfect relative position. After a moment, Karl dropped his speed to resume position relative to Jake. The sphere remained on Karl’s nose.
The clouds broke, revealing snow-capped mountains below. The sphere left station, descending.
“I’ll show the bastard.” Karl locked his targeting radar on the sphere.
“Karl, don’t do anything stupid.”
“This has got to be the ChiComs, and they got no business here. Launch-button cover cleared.”
At that instant, almost faster than Karl’s eyes could register, the sphere shot upwards. Before he could bring his craft around to follow, the sphere disappeared into the heavens.
“Well, it didn’t like that,” Karl said.
“You dumb SOB, that wasn’t Chicoms. You going to put in your report that you nearly shot down a UFO?”
“I didn’t nearly do anything. That sucker could’ve outrun a missile.”
-0-
Yarnak slammed open the hatch to Lensur’s chamber. “What did you do to the flyer, youngling?”
Lensur jolted awake. He poked his eye stalk out of his sleeping gear.
Yarnak could see Lensur’s eye stalk try to focus. The confused look on his face betrayed jumbling thoughts, probably none coherent.
“What do you mean?”
“What do you think I mean? And it’s high time you were up anyway. It’s been four periods since light.”
Lensur twitched. “That late? Really? It feels earlier.”
“It’s not. The flyer. What did you do?”
Lensur swung four of his appendages to the deck and rubbed his carapace. “I don’t know. Nothing, really.”
“Nothing really? The transmission is cracked, the torque converter’s on its last legs. The fuel supply is nearly exhausted. And you did nothing? You think I’ll believe that?”
The youngling waved the two appendages not on the deck. “Maybe they were about to go anyway.”
“Herbigrazer cud. The flyer was overhauled only two cycles ago. It should be good for 100 cycles. And even then, you don’t see that kind of damage.”
Yarnak’s eye stalk throbbed and pointed directly at him. Lensur squirmed but remained silent. Yarnak snorted. What could the worthless one say?
“You know the flyer belongs to the company? Even though I’ll pay for this, I’ll still get an unfavorable data note. All because of a youngling with no self-control.” Yarnak’s eye stalk turned red and his top two appendages bounced.
The youngling squirmed again.
“You were trying to impress a female, weren’t you?”
“No, First Parent. We just went for ride, you know. Nothing much.”
“Where did you go?”
Lensur shuffled his appendages and squeezed his eye stalk. “It was just this planet, you know. Nothing special.”
“No, I don’t know. Which planet?”
He retrieved the designation from the implanted chip. “You know, in the MWG78650 System, Sector ZBXG.”
Yarnak accessed his own memory chip, and his top appendages spread out and his eye stalk rose vertically to its maximum height. “There? You went there knowing it’s forbidden?” He pounded his top two appendages on his carapace. “You went to the third planet, didn’t you? You stubborn, insolent, disobedient, unreliable excuse for . . ..” His voice trailed off as switched to pounding against the bulkhead.
He paused and breathed deeply. Continuing in a softer voice, he said “I saw reports the authorities know of an intrusion, and they’re trying to trace who it was. When I take the flyer in for repairs and refueling, it’ll be flagged. I’ll have to account for the fuel usage.”
He slumped against the bulkhead for several moments. Then he stood erect, eye stalk elevated.
“How did you do the damage?”
“They were going to shoot at me.”
“Who? Why?” Yarnak asked.
“I was just surfing their craft’s bow wave. Automated control. No risk.”
“Except the risk they’ll be scared and shoot.”
“It’s not my fault they’re primitive.”
“It’s your fault you went.”
Lensur raised his appendages. “You know, it’s not like we took a captive or probed anybody. It was just a little harmless sightseeing. No big deal.”
The throbbing in Yarnak’s eyestalk intensified, and the stalk itself flashed colors like a parthwah in rut.
More squirming by Lensur.
“Alright, tell me the name of the female. Her parents need to be warned before the authorities come for her.
Lensur’s eye stalk pulled back. “Can’t we just tell them I was alone. They don’t need to know anything else.”
“They’re not stupid, youngling, and they’ll talk to your friends. What’s her name?”
Everything on Lensur drooped. “Rishura.”
Yarnak took long deep breath and held it before exhaling. “Rishura? My boss’s daughter, Rishura? Duchess Rishura? Rishura who’s betrothed to the crown prince? That Rishura?”
Lensur’s appendages waggled affirmatively.
Yarnak clasped his top two appendages together, his eye stalk wilting. “You’ve disgraced me at work. You’ve disgraced me in society. You’ve committed a prison offense. And now you’re telling me you dragged into your criminal scheme a member of the nobility who is also my boss’s daughter, one who is betrothed to royalty? You could not possibly have made this worse.”
Lensur’s eye stalk moved in a circle. “Well, Rishura discovered she’s carrying my hatchlings. So I guess she’ll lay them in prison.”
Yarnak discorporated.
Found Money
Where the hell was the damn center stripe? Thad Will peered ahead. The wipers and the full-blast defroster kept only a patch of the windshield clear from freezing rain. His headlights barely penetrated the blur. He kept his speed around 40 miles per hour, his knuckles aching from his tight grip on the wheel. When was the last time South Texas had weather like this? His eyelids felt heavy.
He blinked and rubbed his eyes. No sleep in almost two days. Getting a room in Cotulla would have been good. If he could afford it. But Eagle Ford work had slowed and threatened to disappear. He couldn’t spend money on motels with Justin needing braces and the dining room set about to be repossessed.
His eyes closed, his body relaxed, he almost slid into sleep, and the car started to drift. Adrenalin hit. His eyes popped back open, and he jerked the car straight. Damn it all. He repeatedly slapped his cheek.
He hadn’t seen another car since leaving Cotulla, shortly before he’d passed a sign warning that the next gas station was 94 miles down the road. FM 624 cuts east-west across the South Texas brush. He’d heard it called the world’s longest hunting lease. Traffic was seldom heavy, and only an idiot would travel it on a night like this.
Headlights reflected in his rear-view mirror. Who else was out in this mess? A few seconds later, he realized the lights were approaching fast. Jeez. Whoever this schmuck was, he was blasting along, ice be damned.
Moments later a new Ford Mustang swung wide around him and careened back, nearly clipping his front end. It swerved and slid down the road for as far as he could see. A nutso with a death wish. Will held his speed down.
Ten minutes later, he saw headlights ahead and to the side of the road. Maybe there’s a curve. He studied the lights as he drew nearer. Something wasn’t right.
Just a hundred yards short of the lights, he caught sight of a bridge. Ice. Shit. He thumped his brakes just before he crossed onto it and slid almost to the guard rail before regaining control.
Beyond the bridge, the Mustang lay spun around and upside down against the fence. He pulled over, turned on his flashers, and took a flashlight from his glove box. His feet crunched on the icy grass, which brushed against his ankles above his low-quarter shoes. Moisture wicked up his socks, leaving his feet wet and nearly numb.
The spider-web cracks in the window glass kept him from seeing inside. He wrestled open the driver’s door, which cut an arced swath in the icy grass. A fruity, pungent alcohol smell slapped him in the face.
A sprawled body, feet to the front and head to the rear. The latter lay at an odd angle. No pulse. This fool had been driving like a madman without a seatbelt. A broken bottle of Jose Cuervo lay next to the driver.
He shone the light around to look for a passenger. No one. He was about to return to his car and call in the accident when he glimpsed something mostly obscured by the driver’s body. He kneeled in the grass, and shone the light inside. Please God, don’t let it be a child.
It was a duffel bag, the zipper slightly open – with a bundle of money sticking out. He pulled, but the driver’s body held it down. When the bag finally came free, the driver’s torso partly followed the bag out the door. Ice trickled down the back of Will’s neck. His wet hair lay plastered against his head. He shook himself, caught his breath, and unzipped the bag all the way.
The bag was full of bundled hundred-dollar bills. His jaw dropped. Were they real? He glanced at the slumped body. Who was this guy? A drug dealer. Had to be.
He pulled out his cellphone to call the police but then stopped. Rain and melting ice soaked his clothes. He climbed to his feet and looked up and down the highway. Nobody had passed and still no cars in sight. He stuffed the body back in the car and closed the door as best he could, but the latch wouldn’t catch. He locked the bag in his trunk and headed down the highway, setting the car’s heater on high.
The right thing was to turn the money in. But if he did, they’d know he’d been at the accident and didn’t report it immediately, and they’d know he’d tampered with a crime scene. Shit. He shook his head. I should go back. He took his foot off the accelerator. Then he thought of his debts. He needed that money. He sped back up.
He kept wrestling with the dilemma. He pulled over, shut off the engine, and turned on his flashers. The money wasn’t his. He couldn’t keep it. He leaned his head against the steering wheel and squeezed his eyes shut.
It had to be drug money. He took a deep breath. The druggies play for high stakes. Might even be cartel. What if they found him? Then I’m dead. It wasn’t worth it. He should go back.
He reached for the ignition. But they weren’t going to find him. Nobody saw anything. For all the druggies knew, the driver could have stashed the money somewhere else before he crashed.
He had to clear his mind. He slumped and focused on breathing regularly.
Tap, tap, tap.
He awoke, shivering. Flashing lights showed in the rearview mirror, and a patrolman stood at his window. He turned the key so he could lower his window. The rain and ice had let up.
“Is everything all right, sir?” The patrolman was tall and haggard, and his right hand rested on the butt of his pistol. He gave no sign the cold bothered him. The name tag on his chest read Corcoran.
“Yes, officer. Everything’s fine. I just got a little sleepy, so I pulled over to doze. The cold’s got me awake now.” Will shifted in his seat and ran his fingers through his hair.
Corcoran moved his flashlight beam around the interior of Will’s car. “Show me your license and insurance.”
Will pulled his license out of his wallet, handed it over, and fumbled in his glove box until he came up with the insurance card. Thank God he’d kept up the payments.
Corcoran took the papers and went back to his patrol car. When he came back, he returned the papers. “Where’re you headed?”
“Corpus Christi.”
Corcoran looked him and his car over again. “You’re soaked. Did you have some trouble back there?”
Will’s mind raced.
“Uh, no, not really.” He gulped. “The car, uh, well, it felt funny, and I thought maybe, uh, maybe I had a flat.” The last words came more quickly than the previous ones, and he continued almost glibly. “I got out to check it, but the tire was fine.” He offered Corcoran his most innocent smile.
“Pretty wet for just that.”
Will shrugged. “I guess it took me a bit.”
“I see.” Corcoran raised his eyebrows and glared at Will as if he didn’t see at all.
Will struggled not to wither. “May I leave now?”
Corcoran nodded. “Be careful, sir. It’s a messy night. My radio said there’s a bad wreck back nearer Cotulla.”
Will bit his lower lip. “I hope the driver’s OK.”
Corcoran looked into his eyes. “I didn’t say there was just one car or just one person in it.”
“I guess I just assumed.” Inspiration hit. “Were more people involved?”
“The officer on the scene said someone had been there. You know anything about that?”
Wills shook his head repeatedly. “No, sir. I don’t, no. Not about that.” Despite the cold, perspiration formed on Will’s upper lip.
Corcoran stared but waved him on.
Will made a point of signaling to return to the traffic lane and headed east.
That settled that. He couldn’t go back. They’d found the wreck, and they had a record of his whereabouts. He kept driving.
He slammed the steering wheel and grinned. Hell, he’d spend the money. Pay off bills, buy a new car, a new TV. Megan wanted to remodel the kitchen. He could just deposit the cash and start writing checks.
But what if the IRS audited him? No way could he explain the deposit. He shook his head. A lot of shit to think about. He’d ask Harry. Hypothetical, like. Harry worked for H&R Block during tax season. He’d know.
Another thought came to mind. He’d seen enough movies to know the druggies put GPS trackers in with their money. Less than two hours after his encounter with the patrolman, he pulled into the lot of the Stripes truck stop in Orange Grove, the only place open in the wee hours of a Sunday morning. He parked under a flood light at the back of the empty lot, retrieved the duffel from the trunk, and got back in the car to open it. The bundles all seemed to be the same size, and the bills were all Franklins, one-hundred dollars. He counted one bundle out. One hundred Franklins. Ten grand in a bundle. He found seventy-five bundles. Seven hundred fifty grand. A life-changing sum.
In the bottom sure enough his fingers found the tracker. He pulled it out and held it to the light. Were they already on his trail? Was he already a dead man? He looked around. Nothing, nobody. He had to get rid of it fast. He took several deep breaths. Don’t be paranoid.
A big rig pulled into the lot. The driver left the engine idling and went inside the store. Inspiration hit Will. He could stick the gizmo on the truck. But it didn’t look waterproof. He looked at the sky. If he didn’t keep it dry, he might as well throw it in a dumpster.
He returned the bag with the money to his trunk, keeping the GPS, and followed the driver inside. Rancid oil from the popcorn machine permeated the room. Microwaveable sandwiches and burritos lay at one end of the store and the counter lay at the other. In between were rows of candy, cookies, chips, toiletries, and cans of oil and radiator coolant.
The truck driver headed to the restroom. Will laid a Coke and a chocolate candy bar on the counter and, after they were scanned, slid his credit card through the reader. Coke and chocolate would both give him much needed caffeine.
“You need a bag for that?” the clerk asked.
“Yes, please.”
Back at his car, he put the gizmo in the Stripes’ plastic bag and used duct tape from his trunk to secure the bag to the locking bar on the back of the idling big-rig’s trailer. Then he waited. The driver returned to his rig, pulled out of the Stripes, and headed north toward Mathis. Hallelujah.
Will headed east to Corpus. When he got home in the wee hours of the morning, he stuffed the bag in the back of a closet and crawled into bed next to Megan. He lay awake for an hour, maybe two.
The next morning, over coffee, he brooded. He considered depositing some of the cash at an ATM and remembered to call Harry.
Harry chuckled. “You win the lottery, pal? You know they’re going to report that anyway.”
Will ground his teeth. “No, nothing like that. You know, a friend and I at work had a bet about how to do this.”
“A bet with a friend is an old one, buddy, You must have knocked over a drug dealer.”
“Up yours.” Will hung up the phone.
Will Googled large cash deposits and found a bewildering array of rules requiring currency transaction reports and cash-transaction records, some for transactions as low as $3,000. Screw that. He’d keep the cash.
He wasn’t due back in Cotulla until Wednesday. On Monday, he paid off the dining room set and prepaid the orthodontist for Justin’s braces. That evening, after Justin was in bed, he called Megan over to the table and laid out the receipts and the bag with the money.
Her weary eyes turned quizzical as she flipped through the receipts. “What’s this?”
“I paid for Justin’s braces and paid off the balance on the furniture.”
She poked in the bag and gasped.
“Where did you get this?” She paused and looked into his eyes. “Thad, what have you done?” Her voice was soft and higher pitched than normal.
He told her about the wrecked car and the duffel bag. He left out the highway patrolman and the GPS tracker.
Megan ran a hand through her hair. “You’ve got to give it back. It’s not ours.”
“Well . . . .” He explained about Officer Corcoran.
She shook her head. “You’ve made a mess.”
He took her hand. “Only if you look at it that way. Look at it as a gift.”
Tuesday morning, Will read the neighborhood crime blotter and looked up at Megan.
“Did you read about these burglaries? Somebody might steal the money.”
Megan tilted her head and looked at him sideways. “Irony’s not your long suit, is it?”
He waved her off. He needed to spread the risk of losing the money, keep some of it somewhere else. He stuffed $400,000 into his attic crawl space. He took the unspent remainder in the original duffel bag to the rented storage space where they stored stuff they should have gotten rid of.
* * *
Monday afternoon after Will’s early Sunday morning trek through Orange Grove, Laurencio Contreras sat in the Stripes parking lot. The sun was out, and the temperature had risen to the mid-60s. Texas weather.
El Jefe had been pissed when the GPS took the wrong path. Laurencio caught up with the driver at a Victoria truck stop, and when he was done with him, Laurencio believed the guy knew nothing. But Laurencio had to find the cash fast if he wanted to stay on el Jefe’s good side. He didn’t want to see el Jefe’s bad side.
He’d traced the GPS’s movements. It had stopped three times before Victoria. The bag must have been taken at the first stop, where the mule had wrecked. The pinche borracho.
Laurencio didn’t understand the second stop on an isolated stretch of road, but the Stripes had to be where the GPS got on the truck. He surveyed the lot and spotted surveillance cameras.
Inside the store, his nose wrinkled at the rancid-oil smell. He browsed the merchandise and picked up a Big Red and an Almond Joy. Just below another surveillance camera, a picture of the manager hung on the wall, conveniently labeled with a name, Buddy Jaramillo. But someone other than Buddy stood behind the register.
When Laurencio stepped up to the counter, he set down his purchases and pointed at the picture. “I think I went to school with that vato. Is he here today?”
“Naw, he’s off.”
“Live nearby?” Laurencio added a Snickers bar to his purchase.
“Yeah, last house on the left on West Josephine.”
At the last house on West Josephine, a boy practiced dribbling and tried to make baskets in a hoop without a net. A scraggly mesquite grew at the corner of the driveway. Laurencio turned his car to face back the way he’d come and called out.
“Oye. are you Buddy’s boy?”
The boy got control of his ball and held it as his side. “Yes, sir.” He brushed aside his dark hair from his forehead.
“Is your daddy home?”
“He went to the grocery store, but he’ll be back soon.”
“I’ll wait for him.” Laurencio stepped out of the car but left his engine running. He held the candy bar out. “Would you like this?”
“Sure.” The boy approached, and Laurencio grabbed him, one hand over the boy’s mouth. The boy struggled and tried to scream, but Laurencio stuffed him in the back seat.
“When I let go of your mouth, you make noise, I twist your head until your neck snaps. You got me?” The boy nodded, tears gushing down his cheeks. Slowly, Laurencio released the boy’s mouth. The boy sobbed but made no other noise. Laurencio gagged him and used two zip ties, one to bind his hands and another his feet.
He drove back down FM 624 until he found several rows of large, round hay bales lying near the road. He cut the fence, dumped the boy between rows, and left him among piles of dried cow manure.
When Laurencio got back to the house, a large man stood in the front yard shouting, “Jesse. Jesse. Get back home, boy.” The man matched the picture of Buddy Jaramillo.
Laurencio turned his car back around again, got out, and lifted his shirt tail to reveal a gun. “You want to see your boy again? Do what I say. Comprende?”
Buddy’s eyes raced back and forth between the gun and Laurencio’s face. “What have you done to my boy? Where is he?”
Laurencio touched his gun. “Get in the driver’s seat. We’re going to the Stripes. Show me video from two nights ago. Then, you see your boy.”
Almost as many tears ran down Buddy’s face as had his son’s. “You didn’t have to take my boy for this.”
“Just do it.”
At the Stripes, Buddy waited until the clerk finished with a customer and then beckoned.
“We’re going to be in the office. Leave us undisturbed.”
The clerk nodded.
In the small office in the back of the Stripes, Buddy and Laurencio pulled up the video. Running through it was excruciating, even at twice the normal speed. The later the hour, the longer between customers. After a long period of inactivity, a car pulled in and parked under a light. Laurencio recognized the duffel the driver took from the trunk. When the driver went into the store, Laurencio had Buddy load the interior video. When he saw the credit card transaction, Laurencio’s grin turned cold, and he had Buddy pull up the buyer’s name and credit card number.
Armed with a name, Laurencio called el Jefe. Then he turned to Buddy and pointed.
“That way up 624, in some hay bales.” He grabbed Buddy’s forearm, boring his eyes into Buddy’s. “You say anything about this to anyone, I know where you live. Anything. Claro?”
“Sí, claro.” Buddy gulped air. “I got you.”
When Laurencio returned to his car and reached for the ignition, el Jefe called with an address to match the name. Laurencio headed for Corpus. He found Will’s house and spent the night in his car down the block where he had a good view. Cars littered the curb, so Laurencio’s didn’t stand out. He chuckled when Will left Tuesday morning with the duffel. Pinche gringo. Mueres pronto.
* * *
The Sunday afternoon after his early-morning encounter with Thad Will, Earl Corcoran propped up his feet on the coffee table and took a puff on his cigar. Marisol never would have let him put his feet on the table—or smoke a cigar in the house. But when he’d gotten home, all he found was a spite letter calling him a low-life. She’d packed up the kids and headed for her parents. At the beginning of his week off. Bitch.
He shook his head. Dwelling on Marisol’s letter wasn’t a good idea. His mind turned to the squirrel last night on 624. Will had been at the wreck. His nervousness, his being soaked, and his comments about the wreck. All that clinched it. Will had to be the one.
He chugged the rest of his beer. A week without family. Hell. He might as well stake the bastard out.
Tuesday morning, Corcoran watched Will leave the house with a duffel bag. A blue-shirted Hispanic male in a car down the street followed Will. Corcoran followed them both.
Will traveled down South Padre Island Drive until he pulled into a sun-and-salt-bleached storage facility. It consisted of five wings of storage rooms all running perpendicular to a once-white office in the front. Will entered a code and went through an automatic gate. Blue Shirt’s car squeezed through and paused by a nearby storage unit. Corcoran grimaced, taking Blue Shirt’s pause as an effort to lull Will.
Corcoran ran through the office, holding out his badge to a sleepy clerk, who had incense burning. From the back door, Corcoran looked down one of the rows. Someone with a pickup was loading a mattress and box springs. Will’s car came into view as it passed to the right along a cross drive. Corcoran turned to the right just as he caught a glimpse of Blue Shirt’s car.
When Corcoran got to the next opening, he saw Will traveling away from him down the row. Will stopped, unlocked a unit, and took the duffel from his car. Blue Shirt whipped around a corner and skidded toward Will. He hopped out of his car and popped off a round in Will’s direction.
“Give me the bag, pendejo, and maybe I’ll let you live.” Will tossed the duffel into view.
Corcoran aimed his Glock at Blue Shirt and called out, “DPS. Drop your weapon.”
Blue Shirt wheeled and fired at the new target. Corcoran flinched when he felt the whoosh of the slug flying by his ear. Corcoran aimed center of mass and let off two rounds, but Blue Shirt was moving. The shots missed.
Will scuttled around the next corner and peeked back at the fight. Blue Shirt took aim and fired at Corcoran. At the same instant, Corcoran fired back.
Corcoran grabbed his side. Damn. Pain spread across his upper body. Blue Shirt’s round had probably broken a rib, but Blue Shirt had dropped from view. At least I got the bastard.
He approached where he’d last seen Blue Shirt. Not there. The opened storage unit. Corcoran stepped toward it, but a round slammed into his back. Corcoran staggered and fell to his knees. Blue Shirt had hidden behind Will’s car.
Blue Shirt staggered to where he had a clear line of fire at Corcoran and fired three rounds, all of which connected. Corcoran got off two rounds and stayed conscious long enough to see Blue Shirt collapse in a pool of blood.
* * *
Will winced at the sirens. He looked longingly at the duffel, but fear paralyzed him. The first officer arrived in moments and others soon followed. Two dead men and a bag full of money greeted them. Will needed a story. Fast.
“I was just checking my storage unit, you know, to see if it was OK. I hadn’t been here in a while. Then these two guys started shooting at each other. I nearly got hit, but I hid around the corner. I don’t know what it was about.”
Will wasn’t sure the cops believed him, but they let him go after a few hours. The evening news gave him hope.
Off-duty DPS Officer Earl Corcoran was killed today in a gunfight with known drug trafficker Laurencio Contreras, who also died in the encounter. Police recovered a large sum of money at the scene, money that will be forfeited as presumed proceeds of the drug trade. A police spokesman said this was a major blow against a cartel run by a man known as El Jefe.
The story didn’t say how much money was in the bag. The bad guys would think the cops had it all. Will thought of the $400,000 in his attic. Only Megan and he knew.
* * *
Buddy Jaramillo’s jerked up straight in his chair. The slain drug trafficker shown on TV was the guy who kidnapped Jesse and watched the security tapes. Then the reporter mentioned a Thad Wills. That was the name on the credit card receipt. Buddy reached for the phone and called the sheriff.
Kenneth Moore lives in Maryland. "I have long been a fan of creative Sci-Fi / Fantasy and my goal is to one day write regularly in the genres and grow my current catalog of work. I have 3 short stories published in various magazines so far such as CornerBar, Bookzine Adventures, BarBar and a fourth coming soon as well."
Werewolf Ward
Stuck in the lobby of a massive white marble hospital, 12-year-old John had nothing more to do but slump in his seat. Painfully waiting in agony as his body ached all over from the fever that waged war all over his body. "Mom, how long is this going to take?" He whined weakly. His sharp black hair was matted to his pale forehead. The only color on his body being his blue eyes.
His mom just sighed... "Don't complain now. It's your fault for being in that sewer. Seriously, what were you thinking, playing around in there?" The vein on her head was visible.
"I wasn't playing!" John thought back to his investigation with his two close friends. A squad of three who sought to investigate all the paranormal happenings around them for their web show. The latest case had led them to the sewers in search of a rumored giant gator living there. However, the only thing they found was a cold for John as it was not only wet but awfully windy that night.
John continued watching his video, grumbling at the measly 20 views.
"I was pursuing the truth! Unfortunately, it got away again." He slumped down in his seat before sneezing.
"John Pines, you're next. Doctor Zhu will see you now." A receptionist lady come up from behind the counter and announced.
***
"Half Caucasian and Chinese, age twelve..." The doctor read his medical info to himself before setting his stuff down. "So what do we have here?" In front of a shaking John stood a slender, African-American man with silver dreads and a white medical coat to boot. His emerald eyes stared John down as the fever worked its way through him further.
"My son has been falling ill lately. He was still okay this morning with only a headache but now he can barely stand." His mother answered.
"Have you been going out without a hat? It's getting late in the year and that's a common cause for colds, you know?"
She shook her head. "No, not to mention he was playing in the sewer not too long ago and didn't have anything to dry himself off until he walked all the way home."
"You what...?" The doctor raised an eyebrow.
John bit his lip in sheer embarrassment. "Mom! You're making me look weird."
"Oh I know all about weirdness, kid." He slipped on his gloves and leaned close to John's chest for a moment with no stethoscope. "Heartbeat is average."
***
After a brief examination, Doctor Zhu just shrugged. "Well Johnathan, it's clear that you've contracted a fever from your exploits. This will work its way through your system in no time, though, so I suggest you relax at home for the next few days. Some soup and common medicine will beat that bug right out of you."
"Ah thanks doctor. Now uh... my insurance just changed. How exactly do I address this?"
"Oh, well you'll have to go to the front desk for that. Here, I'll show you. Once that's done, you and your son will be able to head home."
Zhu led the way out the door, John's mom tapped on her son's shoulder gently. "I'll be right back, okay?"
John's head was still a banging mess as she walked out, preventing him from objecting until it was too late. As he lay there in the room alone, he remembered all the times she claimed she'd be right back after something, only for the opposite to be true.
"No... she'll be gone for ages!" He grumbled. Having no choice, he reached for his phone again, as it was the only way to pass the time. Only for both his pockets to turn up empty.
"Dang, where is it?" The misery of being stuck with no way to appease his boredom drove John mad. Eventually, he summoned enough courage to power through his pain and stand. Dragging himself out the door.
"Ugh my head..." He struggled and swayed down the hallway, approaching an elevator that opened. "I need to find my phone before I pass out. I must've left it in the car..." He climbed in and leaned along the wall as two practitioners made their way in.
"Excuse us son." One of them said.
The nurse accompanying him leaned in and whispered. "Hey did you hear what happened on Floor X earlier?"
"What?"
"Zhu ate him whole!" She exclaimed.
John slumped against the wall, raised an eyebrow at her words.
"Seriously? You'd think he'd show at least a little mercy." Her associate replied.
"But it's true! We already aren't supposed to use Floor X outside of emergencies as it is, so he probably scarfed him down.
"Surprised the boss hasn't found out yet. With all the people stuck down there, you'd think he'd be watching closely."
"People...?" The shaking boy mumbled as the elevator came to a stop.
The man swayed his longer hair as the elevator beeped. "Oh this is us. Come on, let's go help that kid that got his unmentionable stuck in a mousetrap. Not sure I even want to know how it happened...
The doctors left out, leaving him alone in the elevator for a moment. John thought to himself quickly. There were likely only mere seconds before someone summoned the elevator again. In that instant, John's finger hovered over the button for the Lobby where he'd be able to reach the car. He hesitated, however, as next to it was another one with a simple X icon on it.
***
John lay limp alone in the elevator as it descended further and further past Floor 1. It made no other stops and simply dropped down until finally halting. Slowly, the doors opened up to a long hallway only illuminated by mere black lights.
John gulped and eased his way through the doors, shaking from the fever and fear as he walked through the purple room. "What is this place...? Could it be a good add-on for the web show?"
There wasn't much to see except for the endless hallway and a long dark windowpane to go along with it. However, the insides were pitch black, with no way to see.
John trod a bit further before slipping on something and falling to the ground. His eyes opened to the sight of blood and warm, raw meat splattered along the floor. Terrified, he leaped back against a pair of doors that led into another dark room. Shivering at the sight of hair plastered against it. Long and shaggy, almost like the shed of a wolf.
"What is this place?" John muttered before hearing small footsteps. His head spun around like on a swivel looking for the source before a deafening bang on the door sent him onto his feet. Through the window next to it, he found a large figure, biting and thrashing about in a feral rage before banging against the door again. It took John one look at the doorknob beginning to snap out of place for him to know it was time to go.
With a slip and slide due to the meat, he bolted back to the elevator and banged on the button for Floor 1. Before he knew it, the purple room was gone and replaced by a serene granite white lobby.
He slowly trickled out the elevator before freezing. "Johnathan Pines, what do you think you're doing? I told you to wait in the doctor's office!" His mother approached him with a frustrated glare that changed to concern upon seeing the genuine fear on her son's face.
Through deep breaths, John blurted out the only thing he could muster. "M-Mom, there's monsters here!"
"Monsters?"
"Everything okay there little man? We were just about to come get to you." Doctor Zhu asked coming up behind her.
"T-There was hair and meat and stuff! It had to be... Ugh, what could it be?"
The boy's outbursts were catching the eyes of everyone on the floor. Desperate to avoid causing a scene, John's mom acted quickly. "It looks like this fever is getting to him faster than I thought... I'll take him home now." She said with a nervous laughter.
"But mom it's true, I saw it all on Floor X while trying to get my phone from the car!"
"Floor X?" Zhu's eyes went wide with disbelief. "That floor is only meant for employees, Johnathan. You could've gotten hurt!"
"You trespassed? And all for something that's not even in the car." She quickly whipped out his phone from her purse.
The sick boy stepped back stammering. "But..."
"You gave it to me to hold on the way to Zhu's remember? You were just using it in the lobby."
The truth suddenly hit him and his memory flashed back in an instant. "I... did..."
"Come on, let's get you home. I'll call your father to go get some chicken noodle soup for tonight. That'll be your dinner." His mom soothed as he pushed him by the shoulders towards the exit.
John weakly fought to get out of her grip before he turned back to see Zhu waving him away with an annoyed glare. "But I know what I saw! I do!"
***
It was close to midnight as John laid under the covers in bed. The TV was playing his best comfort show, an empty bowl of soup along with the same painkillers for him to take in the morning were next to him on his nightstand.
John was limp, unable to do anything as his fever had increased. Stuck there under the heated blanket, he was forced to listen to the wind as it howled ferociously outdoors throughout the night.
Though at times, he would notice the howling continue even as the tree by his window didn't move.
Just before he finally dozed off to sleep, one peek through the curtains at the full moon finally clued everything together.
2
One Month Later
"Four weeks... it's been four weeks since that day." John said somberly as he sat upon the wooden bench. It was the middle of a Friday afternoon as he hung with his friends in the park and told the story of what happened that fateful night.
"So what exactly are you getting at here?" Suzie said. A slender girl with unique silver pigtail hair with red swirls all over. It was no wonder she earned the nickname Peppermint.
"Yeah man, you've barely eaten your ice cream." Malik said. A burly blonde with a well-built figure for his young age.
"Haven't you been listening? I'm talking about the fact that Moon Hospital has Werewolves stashed underneath it!" John declared with the slam of his fist.
They shared a confused glance, "Werewolves?"
"Yes... What's the matter, I thought you'd be excited about this. We're monster hunters after all. Discovering Werewolves under the hospital would be a huge find!" He grabbed his phone and pulled up various strange happenings all over the internet that were reposted onto their blog.
Strange Sky Lights Still Puzzle Minnesota Residents
Wooly Mammoth Shadow Claimed to Have Been Found in Cul De Sac
Boys Claim “Movie Theater is Haunted”
All these news headings are just the stepping stones. We're gonna discover something big one day and I can tell this will be it!"
"Well yeah, and we could use new subscribers but..." Suzie twiddled her thumbs for a bit. "How do you know you saw what you think?"
"Yeah, didn't you say you went looking for your phone even though just earlier you gave it to your mom?" Malik added.
"You got to trust me! I was there with the meat, the smells, the blood and the hair. It's all real!" John pouted. "All we need to do is sneak in there and get one good shot of one of the Werewolves. Gather some evidence."
"Breaking into a hospital is easier said than done, though. We should really think about this before-" Suzie was twiddling her thumbs again when John slid his phone towards the two again with a picture of Zhu and some info at the bottom.
"What's this?"
"Doctor Zhu's bio. If he were a normal person, then how come he has over twelve medical PHDs and still looks so young?"
"He could just be super smart?" Malik suggested.
Suzie shook her head. "No... someone like that would have to be at least around their 40s but Zhu still looks like a college guy." She stared at the bio and started reading with wonder. "John... could you actually be onto something here?"
Malik read a bit of the info too. "That's actually a bit more convincing... Maybe we should do something!"
"Easy now Malik..." Suzie turned to John. "We've been hunting the chupacabra to search for the Lochness monster and all of them have all resulted in us just telling our viewers that the chase is what matters. But what if we aren't able to do that this time? What if we get arrested or what if there really is something going on there... what if-"
"Suzie?"
"Yes?"
John threw on a devious smirk and leaned in towards her. "Think about it... if we get a high subscriber count, how much Ad revenue will we make?"
The pair thought for a moment. Before John knew it, they were all getting geared up for the infiltration of Moon Hospital later that night.
***
The sun had just set by the time they made it there. All dressed in subtle black clothing fitting for burglary. walkie-talkies, pens and other tools were stashed deep in their pockets. "So we're all caught up with the plan?"
"Yeah, just leave it to me. I'll get everyone's attention in no time." Malik beamed with pride.
"And you're sure this ability to... raise your body temperature is safe? I mean how do you even-"
Malik held a finger to John's lips. "Hey, a magician never reveals his secrets."
Slowly, the trio entered the doors of the massive, luxurious hospital. Ready to begin their operation. At the front desk, a receptionist with the name tag Edna waved them in. "Good evening, are your parents with you?"
John put on his best lying face. "Uh no but our friend here isn't feeling well. We were just hanging out when he-"
Malik suddenly started swaying away from the group. His feet tumbling like a mad man as he clutched his face. "My head... everywhere... feel so hot!"
"Oh goodness, doctors!" The receptionists' pleas were quickly aided as two medics ran onto the scene.
"He's got a temperature of 114! We need to put him in intensive care right away." One caretaker pulled out a stretcher from the nearby closet and set Malik on it. As he was hoisted away, he gazed back at his friends one last time with a wink before vanishing behind the doors with most of the staff.
"Malik sure has some odd talents..." John carefully eyed the lobby. It was thankfully a rather calm night with few people and those that were there were completely focused on Malik's antics... Moving quickly, the two used this chance to bolt to the elevator past the desk and head down to the forbidden zone.
"Get your camera ready, we'll leave as soon as we get clear footage of whatever is down there." John, with adrenaline coursing through his veins, pressed the big X button once more. Only for an LED pad beside it to shine red. They needed a key to leave.
"This wasn't there before! We need a card to get to Floor X now?!"
"Ugh, they must've installed it after you snuck down there originally. Suzie sighed and thought quickly. "We'll just have to take the vents. Now, before more come to the front desk."
"The vents?"
"We've got no choice. Malik is already in this now." Suzie grabbed him by the arm and they sprinted towards the room where the stretchers and other hasty medical tools were held.
"Surprised they don't keep their supply closet locked." John sighed as he removed a vent cover in the far back. "We can get in through there. I hope they keep them clean..."
***
John crawled with Suzie close behind. He had yet to encounter anything icky like webs which he was thankful for. "Remember, Floor X is downwards so all we need to do is crawl in that direction."
"Easier said than done. Vents from within can get confusing real quick. What we need to do is-" As if on cue, the tunnel beneath Suzie bent and buckled under their weight. By the time John had managed to shuffle around to see what was going on, it was too late.
"Suzie? Grab my hand!" He reached out to grab her only to watch the girl slide down another shaft below and out of sight. The shift in weight sent several vents paths out of whack.
The two screamed as Suzie slipped down and out of sight while John was sent sliding into another place entirely.
3
The clock struck 1 A.M. as Malik lay in the hospital bed. His fever had gone down ages ago and he was eagerly awaiting the others to radio him. Something he eagerly anticipated more and more as he failed to find anything interesting on TV. "It's been four hours... where are they?"
"Yo, John? Suzie?" He spoke into his walkie but to no avail. Fully back to full health and eager to find out what was going on, Malik threw off the medical gown and slipped back on his regular dark clothes.
Carefully, he eased open the door into the dark hallway. The only lights being the various machines and computers of doctors on the floor's front desk and the full moon shining down through the ceiling windows.
"Psst... John. Where are ya?!" He whispered while walking through the dark hall. After a while, his patience slipped and he blurted a little louder. "John!"
"Excuse me, shouldn't you be in bed?" An older man stepped into the hallway with a raised eyebrow.
"Uh, sorry doctor. I just have to use the bathroom real quick." He lied with a smirk and scurried off.
***
After escaping the man's sight, Malik continued his search. "Dang man, where did you...?" He froze upon hearing a faint hum of static from down the hall. Careful not to wake any other patients up, he hurried over to the source. He came across a big black door with a chipped lock on it. Malik spoke into the Walkie-Talkie again and faintly heard his voice on the other side. "Hope this still works..."
He grabbed a paper clip from his pocket of tools and jiggled until it clicked open. Inside was the main man he was looking for lying spread across the floor on top of rubble under a busted vent. "John, there you are!"
He rushed over and woke the mastermind up. "M-Malik...?"
"What happened, I thought you guys were headed underground? This floor is several stories up!"
John shushed him weakly and clutched his midsection. "We were but they added a security pass to it. So we tried to take the vents but got split. Suzie fell downstairs somewhere and I slid around a few places before just climbing until I was out of that maze."
"Now that you're here, let's just find Suzie and go. We can't just sneak blindly without a plan anymore." He clutched his head. "We'll be lucky to find something worth looking into at this rate..."
"Well, don't be so sure about that. Take a look around." John raised his head and slowly took in the sight. They were in what seemed to be another supply closet but it was different than the rest. There, rather than tables and walls of colorful medical supplies, was a barren, unkempt room filled with dirty red wet rags and weapons such as rusty knives, chain whips and handguns with bullets laid out next to them. Most of which were silver.
"What the... What is this stuff?"
He got up and examined the materials. "Why would a hospital have a room like this?"
"So many guns and knives. They even got switchblades." Malik added.
"Well uh... something is definitely going on here." The nosy boy scratched his head in thought.
"Wait, what if this is a vault?" John raised an eyebrow. "Think about it. There's knives, bloody materials and even silver bullets. What if this is some kind of holding room?"
"What are you talking about?"
"You know how big evil organizations in shows pick off all the tools of their enemies and store them somewhere? What if all this stuff was snatched from the Werewolf hunters they fought shortly before killing them?!"
John thought for a moment. "I don't know. Seems to be a slight stretch." He was reluctant to dismiss the theory since he was the one who pushed the hardest, but their backs were against the wall.
"Let's just go before-" The sudden loud clack of footsteps caught the boys off guard. They were aggressive and headed their way. John covered Malik's mouth and looked around for somewhere to hide, soon finding a cabinet and jumping into it with him... They were careful not to get scraped against the barbed wire hung up inside and left the door open by the tiniest crack to see.
First through the door was an injured and scraggly man as he was shoved through, followed by a familiar Doctor. It was Zhu.
"Isn't this against regulation doc? What happens if I tell your boss about this?"
"You and I know very well that won't be happening one way or another." Zhu warned with a deep venom in his voice. His green eyes were giving an icy glare that sent chills throughout the boys' entire bodies.
"Listen to me... I know very well what you've done here and it won't go unpunished, believe me." Zhu gripped the man by the collar with a grip of absolute rage.
"I will warn you once. You even try to raise a knife around here and I will end you. You're lucky I wasn't appointed your caretaker. One wrong move and I'd have no qualms tearing your throat out. Now give it to me." With a sneer, the man reached into his pocket and handed him the wooden shank he crafted.
"How did you-"
Zhu hushed him with a deep glare. "I have a very strong sense of smell and the scent of dried blood on your shank is hard to miss. Now if we've both come to an understanding... get back to your room. This is your only warning."
The man sucked his teeth and hurried out the door. Though he tried to hide it, his face showed unmissable fear. Doctor Zhu walked out with him before looking back around the room to make sure everything was in place before tossing the wooden shank onto the desk with the other weapons and stepping out.
With shuttering legs, John and Malik slowly stepped out of the cabinet.
"Okay... What was that about?" The latter asked through chattering teeth.
"Did you see the look on his face with that guy? What doctor does that to a patient?" John held his head in confusion. "Not to mention that bit about tearing out the dude’s throat?" John eyed the shank on the table and inspected it. "Werewolves can't be killed by stakes, right?"
"No, that's Vampires."
"Even still, I think you were on to something Malik." John snatched his phone.
"Get your camera and let's snap some pictures of this place..."
***
After collecting some evidence, the boys wandered the halls preparing their next move. "What now?"
"I honestly don't think it's safe to keep going with Zhu looking like he's blood lusted. If he really is a Werewolf and has already beaten tons of hunters along with his friends down in Floor X, then we're really in trouble. We still should find Suzie and get out of here for now."
John's walkie then suddenly started speaking. Through a deep muffle of static, Suzie's voice could just barely be heard. "H-H E-E-LP!"
"Hello? Suzie is that you? John raised his walkie to his ear with Malik hovering over. "
"J-ohn! M-alik!"
The blonde shook his walkie. "We can't hear you!"
"Werewolves! You were right! They're here! There's one chasing me in Floor X!"
John nearly dropped his walkie and shared a look of fear with Malik. Before either could say anything however, a lady spotted them from across the hall. The same one that manned the front desk when Malik performed his stunt. "Hey, you should be in bed!" She turned to John. "And you? How did you get back here after hours?"
"Crap, run!" Before John could think of a quick response to get them out of trouble, he was yanked down the hall by Malik with Edna in hot pursuit.
4
"Where am I?" Suzie groaned as she opened her eyes to find herself in a dark room. Above her was the opening of a vent that looked like it had been broken through which would explain her laid out on a bunch of crushed boxes and cans.
Some emitting a sharp hiss as something escaped from them.
Suzie reached out for her walkie but froze. "I should have a look around first. Don't know who could be listening." She searched her surroundings for something useful and found a nearby closet with many storage items including a flashlight, just what she needed.
She stepped into the hallway to take in her surroundings. From the violet aura to the heinous floor, it was clear where she was. "These lights. It has to be X!"
"It's just as horrible as John described it... I can't believe it!" Suzie could only bite her lip as she walked further. Occasionally stepping on the raw meat and red substances below along with the occasional hair.
"Sure wish I had some silver bullets right about now." She mumbled before hearing footsteps ahead. Slowly, she turned the corner and hid under a tarped desk. Peeking under it to see two doctors wheeling a large crate with needles inside. All filled with glowing green liquid.
"And nobody has any idea where the smell came from?" The redhead doctor said.
"No but it's dangerous to be here too long while breathing it in so quit trying to take off your mask." His stern partner grumbled.
"Whatever." The younger man grunted before turning back. ""Hey, you sure this stuff will do the job?"
"Yeah it won't be too much longer. Soon we'll have all these guys transformed just the way we want them." The other masked doctor said. "After all, Zhu is an expert on this stuff. I trust his word."
"Come on, the storage room is up ahead. Let's move." Suzie watched as the pair turned a corner and hurried off. All she could see was their shadows dragged over the wall. Then, in an instant her heart dropped as she watched them stop and begin to morph. Along the wall were displayed two beings of hair, claws and slobber that howled harshly before running down the hall with the cart.
Suzie sat there petrified for a while, urging her legs to move but they just wouldn't. Eventually she managed to get out and back up against the wall and just take everything in. "Oh my god. They really are trying to transform the people down here! Everything John said was right..."
She thought about running. Every inch of her mind explored escape options. Yet during the process. Flashes of the needles and what they'd do to people kept flashing in her mind. "I have to do something about it, don't I?" She whimpered.
"Hey there little girl. Are you lost?" Suzie jumped back, not even noticing the shivering man as he walked up behind her.
"Where are you? Come into the light." She leaned in closer as the man approached. Quickly backing up as she saw a man with glowing yellow eyes, elongated claws and a shredded shirt. Hairs were sprouting over his body slowly.
"It can't be..." Suzie's teeth chattered as she froze.
"I just wanted to ask if you got infected too. And where did you get that flashlight?" The man grumbled, inching his way closer.
"No, you're mid-change! Stay back!" She bolted, whipping out her walkie and delivering a cry for help as fast as she could.
"HELP! John, Malik can you hear me?!" It took all her willpower not to hyperventilate as she heard the man's footsteps get closer.
"Werewolves! You were right! They're here! There's one chasing me in Floor X!" She whimpered before yelling back. "Get away from me!"
5
"You kids get back here, this is trespassing!" The nurse roared as John and Malik bolted into a nearby stairway, the bright white lights blinding them briefly.
"We need to get to Floor X as fast as possible! It's dark there, maybe we can lose her." John instructed.
Edna wasn't too far behind but she inevitably wasn't as nimble as two preteen boys. "Notify all staff on the premises! We have two kids sneaking around and causing trouble, be on the lookout!" She alerted into a radio of her own.
"Great, well I guess that cat's out of the bag." Malik chuckled nervously.
"I think we got enough evidence for now. Let's save Suzie and get out of here!" John assured as they hurried further down the hall. As they rushed, the door opened and the scraggily man from before stepped in angrily.
"Who's making all this noise...?" He yawned. After quickly hurrying to his room on the lower level, the last thing he expected was to double over in pain at the feeling of a kid ramming his head into his stomach. They both crashed into the wall together seeing stars.
"...Sorry man!" John winced before getting back to his feet and catching up with Malik.
After rushing down the steps for a while longer, the flight ended and there was only one final door next to it and the big letter on it only meant one thing. "Here it is, Floor X!" John beamed with relief. He quickly jiggled the handle only for Malik to spot a black LED pad to the side.
"Wait what's that?" The slick boy asked making the former groan.
"You've got to be kidding me? This door needs a keycard too?!"
"Man, you really scared them by coming down here the first time." Malik chuckled before freezing as he felt the back of his shirt being yanked along with John's.
"Got you!" Edna smirked as she finally snatched the two boys into custody.
John fought her restraints. "Let us go, our friend is in danger!"
"What are you-" Her mind thought for a second before realizing. "Wait, what floor is she on? It better not be X!"
"We need to get her, please!"
"Out of the question. Nobody is allowed on that floor aside from the staff." She started hoisting them back up the steps. "Come on, let's go. Your friend will be fine and join you in the back of a police car."
"Sorry, I really respect what you guys do as doctors, but Suzie could also be dead by the time that happens from your schemes so I have to do this!" Without warning, Malik suddenly rammed into Edna with pure force, Sending her to the ground with him on top.
John took the opportunity to plan an escape. Quickly he grabbed Malik and dashed into the nearest door, leading Edna to chase after them down the hall. Unbeknownst to her, they slinked around the corner just before she got her bearings.
After making sure her footsteps were far enough, the boys inched out of hiding.
"She's finally gone... she'll be looking for us for a bit but there's no going back. Most of the hospital will be keeping us on the lookout."
"Good thing we got this." Malik raised the nurse's keycard with a smirk.
"Wow, quick fingers." John smirked. "Let's hurry down there."
***
John opened the door and welcomed Malik in so he too could witness the horrors himself. "It's exactly as you described, wild."
"Yeah, be careful, you don't know what could be lurking around the corner." Just then, both boys felt a hand grab the back of their shirts yet again, yanking them back.
"She found us already?!" Malik panicked.
"How did you even get down here so fast lady?" John whipped around ready to fight, only to find a friendly face.
"Chill guys, it's me." The missing pair to their trio giggle weakly.
"Suzie!" The blonde snatched her in a hug.
"I'm glad we could find you." John sighed. "Malik and I have seen some pretty weird stuff here so far but you actually said you saw Werewolves?"
"Yeah... these two doctors were wheeling off some big case of needles before they transformed into them. I saw their shadows!"
"And then they chased you?"
Suzie shivered. "Well that was another one that was mid-change. I managed to lose him a couple halls down."
"Well, I've seen enough to know there's something seriously wrong with this place. Maybe we should wait a bit before uploading anything on our channel, especially since they know we're here." John rose to his feet and pinched his nose. "Now that we've got you, let's beat it. If we get caught, we'll be trapped down here just like those other people and I'd rather not be stuck smelling this awful odor."
"Well, we could, but..." Suzie trailed off for a bit before eventually working up the courage to explain more about the green substance and what the doctors said.
"So what are you saying? We can't do anything about that!" John panicked. "Our best advantage is to take pics for evidence but that's it."
"We have to at least try, or they'll use that stuff on the patients." She bit her lip. "And from what we've seen, I think it's safe to guess that it's responsible for turning these people into what they are."
John and Malik shared a worried glance before the former sighed. "Just had to be the voice of reason huh?"
6
After taking some time to stitch up a plan, the kids inched their way through the halls. Eventually, they come to a large room with various supplies visible through the pane. “Through the window, it's back behind this door!” She snuck up and jiggled the knob. “Ugh, it’s not budging.”
John spotted another LED pad and gestured with a playful grin. “Malik, if you’d do the honors?” With a single swipe of Edna’s card, the locks popped open.
“Wow, where did you find that?”
“Our friend from the front desk lent us it.” The bold boy smirked before slowly opening the door and walking into the room.
The lab was illuminated in black light just like the rest of Floor X, casting a purple hue all the way through it. Towards the back laid the box full of glowing needles as the kids approached it carefully.
“So this is what you saw?” John analyzed the contents as Malik pressed his hand against the container.
“It’s massive! So what’s the plan? Should we just break and pour them down a storm drain or something?”
John shook his head. “That won’t solve much. We need to get this substance to the police! That way they can send it in for an investigation and eventually they might be able to figure out what it is. Then they’ll come arrest the Werewolves and we’ll have a big scoop for the channel. As well as being hailed as town heroes.”
“Not a bad plan, but how will we even get it out of the building?”
“Actually Malik, I just might be able to open the elevator to the main lobby with the card.”
Suzie’s eyes lit up. “The one that’s right by the main exit, of course!”
John smirked softly. “This night is almost over. Let’s get this thing out of here and try not to get killed in the process.”
***
“Sheesh it’s heavy!” Malik hissed as he worked with John to hoist the container out the room and into the hall where Suzie waited with a cart.
“Don’t crack it!” she urged, scared stiff after it came slamming inside. “Okay, get ready to push. I’ll keep watch around the corners for people.”
“Good, let’s hurry.” John urged them out before freezing as his head suddenly ached.
Suzie looked. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, it’s just-“
“Hey, what are you doing over there?!” An enraged voice echoed from the other side of the hall.
“No! I didn’t even get a chance to check!”
On instinct, John used all his strength to pull the cart with Malik and lead the way. “Follow me, I’m sure I can find the elevator!”
“We’re gonna need a bit more than 'sure' man…” His blonde accomplice sighed. As they ran, two shadows of doctors hovered over the walls in front of them only to be obscured by another. A bigger, more ferocious one. “Are… Are you guys seeing that too?”
“W-What?” Suzie mumbled.
“Not sure I want to turn around.” John mumbled. Sadly it didn’t matter as moments later, a blur of black flashed past them and landed before their eyes. Laying there on all fours with gnarly teeth, green glowing eyes and thick fur was the clawed beast itself. As it crawled towards them with its razors bared for their throats, the truth was undeniable
John fell back, losing all control in his legs. “There’s no doubt anymore… that’s a real freaking Werewolf!” His head spun on a swivel, looking for a new detour.
“Go left, now!” He instructed, as the others followed. He hoped to hope there was still a quick way to the elevator. Alas the only thing that greeted them was a couple doors and the wall.
“A dead end?” The light vanished from John’s eyes as he realized they were cornered. With quick bravery, he jumped in between the Werewolf and his friends.”
“There’s got to be a way out through one of the rooms to the side!” He yelled back. “Just get out of here!”
As he inched closer to the beast and tried to figure out any possible way to survive, two figures popped though the doors to the side and snatched his companions. “Get off me-” Suzie fought before one slapped a white mask across her face, slowly draining and lulling her into sleep.
Malik jumped in between them. “Quit it, why are you doing this?!” Was all he could say before one wrestled him down and slapped a mask onto his face too.
“Guys!” John panicked upon seeing the event going on behind him. He then turned to see the Werewolf standing on his two legs and grabbing him by the arm.
“No!” John fought as he could feel the beast’s strength about to snap his arm in two. That was when he felt a mask around his face and his movements slowed. He could feel his defenses fail as he looked up at the Werewolf who had just seemingly put the mask on him. His vision soon got wispy and not before long, The Werewolf was gone, replaced by the doctor who always seemed to be around every corner.
“Doctor Zhu?” The boy mumbled.
“Shh… Just go to sleep.” He hushed before darkness set in.
7
John fussed in his sleep before waking up. "What happened?" He found himself in a hospital room in-between Malik and Suzie's cots, both of whom were still out cold.
Before them was Doctor Zhu reading with his legs crossed against the window. Out there, John could see the soothing blue hue of early morning start to peek over the horizon of town. The ever-strange man closed his book with an annoyed sigh. "Ah you're awake... Good morning."
"You!" John stuttered and fell out of his bed, spotting Malik and Suzie in opposite ones next to his. Let us go! We know all about your secrets." He grabbed his phone and opened his camera roll. "One push of this button and I'll have all the pictures and videos I took instantly uploaded to our blog!"
"And what do you have there little man?" The doctor taunted. "Let's hear these secrets you'll dish out."
John grimaced and bellowed the truth out. "That you're Werewolves!"
The room fell silent as Zhu just looked at him with honest shock. "W-What...?" His smile vanished like dust in the wind.
"That's right, I know."
"Sorry, maybe it was because I was stuck with the graveyard shift but could you say that one more time? I believe I heard wrong."
Suzie shook herself awake from the sounds of the commotion shortly before Malik. They watched the scene before them in alarm, "I said we know that you and the other people in this supposed hospital are Werewolves!"
Zhu just stood there for a second before bursting into laughter. "Edna, please get over here!"
The receptionist opened the door and walked in, curious about the commotion. "You think I'm a what?"
"I'm not repeating again..." John said through grit teeth.
"Look, I'm being serious now. What is this really about?"
Suzie threw off her covers, grabbing the doctor's attention. "He's being serious too. I mean at first I thought it was a little much but we've seen so many things here, it's impossible to deny."
"Yeah, so don't even try to play dumb." Malik crossed his arms and eyed Zhu with a judging glare. "Just skip the middleman and transform."
"...I can't."
"Yeah don't straight up ask him to shift, he could kill us at any moment." John warned much to Zhu's growing annoyance.
"No I can't because I'm not a Werewolf morons! Nobody here is." He jabbed a finger towards a red-haired man writing his own report in the corner. "Look at that guy. Does he seriously seem like he could hurt a fly?"
Suzie brushed off the doctor's annoyed grumble. "That was one of the doctors wheeling the stuff downstairs and I saw him and his buddy transform!"
The man broke his silence. "You saw or you think you did?"
"Huh?"
The doctor reached down and lifted up a large dented metal can next to him. "Does this look familiar to any of you?"
Suzie studied it. "I think I fell on one of those downstairs."
"Yeah, you busted several of these anesthesia cans and they filled all of Floor X." Zhu explained. " Many of the patients were affected as well. I wouldn't be surprised if some of them got out of their beds to find out what was going on before the effects caught up to them and they started acting strange just like you." Suzie thought to herself for a moment. Remembering that one man who came up to her.
"But what about what I saw? It was too real."
The receptionist stepped forth and answered. "An overdose certainly can cause one to be tricked by their mind. Especially if they're having stressful thoughts at the moment."
"Thanks Edna." Zhu smiled before eyeing them again. "It looks like you kids saw a lot of things out of context. So let's just clear the air, I'll answer any questions you ask."
John grimaced. "Okay, well then let's start with the biggest one. What is Floor X?"
The man shrugged. "Simple. Floor X is a special containment zone where patients with special unidentified conditions are treated. It is kept there as an immediate precaution to protect the public."
"Oh yeah? Well what about the claims of you eating? When I was here with that fever, I heard someone say that you ate him whole. Who were they referring to?"
Zhu immediately went red in the face and turned away with a guilty groan. "Oh those loose lipped morons..."
Edna suddenly burst into laughter much to the doctor's pain. "Ha! You actually ate him!"
"You know what? Let's just go with me being a monster. Yeah I'm that, mystery solved."
Zhu tried to get up only for Edna to hold him down. "Oh no you don't!" She could barely hold back her snickering and turned to the investigators. "You see, every now and then this one nurse up on the upper floors gives everyone these big treats as a team bonding thing. Only problem is that they taste terrible. The only one who eats them consistently is Zhu here because he doesn't have the heart to tell her she needs to take more cooking lessons."
Suzie cocked her head. "Is this story going anywhere?"
"Basically the week John was here, that nurse gave all the staff giant Gingerbread men despite it being closer to Halloween than Christmas. Despite claiming he would finally tell her, it looks like he ate it. Ha!"
"Uh, is that really all there is?" Malik wondered.
John hurried to the next question. "What about the raw bloody meat and hair on the floor?"
Zhu was quick to answer. "The doctors are always in a hurry to provide treatment for patients undergoing the disease. The disease Para9-23M4 gives the user a dire need for protein or else their vision and senses will temporarily dull. This in turn causes various odd chain reactions in the body. One of which being rapid hair growth. Also Temporary. To prevent that, we constantly provide the best meat-rich meals the hospital can bring! Well you know, when our newbies aren't dropping everything as they run. He eyed the redhead again. "But then again even us pros make mistakes. Earlier that night when you were there, I had dropped some raw meat down there while wheeling in a new shipment."
"And that container with the needles?" Suzie asked.
"That was our antivirus formula that quickly got shipped in. Luckily the turnaround time for this was quick. While you were out, we've already administered an injection into one of our patients. Would you like to see him?"
The three shared a glance before deciding to go down to Floor X with great reluctance. Though accompanied by Zhu and Edna, the Floor was still an unnerving sight.
***
"He's down this hall." Zhu guided. Edna opened the door, granting revealing a man resting on his bed while chatting with another doctor who was already in the room.
Suzie looked closely. Slowly picking up on the similarities until it hit her. "Hey, that's the guy who was after me. He's okay?" She hadn't even recognized it at first. When approaching her the first time, he looked senseless, feral and mid-morph like a monster. Now before her was simply a man with ruffled hair and sweaty skin at the absolute worst.
"He can't be discharged yet but his condition from the virus is improving." Zhu assured.
They left the room to allow the man his privacy. Out there, John just slumped against the wall, clearly growing more frustrated. "I would ask next about your degrees but I bet there's an answer for that too... But seriously I looked you up and you got way too many for someone so young looking."
"Spying on my background?" Zhu snickered. " Man kid, you'd make a great government agent in the future. Anyway... you got me. I'm a genius. Well... I've always had a hankering for medicine and became a scholar at everything so I could reach my goal of becoming a doctor. Even to the point of graduating college when I was just your age."
John rolled his eyes and looked off as Malik took his turn. "I can't believe how wrong we were... just one more question though. What about that guy you were interrogating in the back room? And what was that place anyway, it looked crazy!"
Zhu's eyes went wide as Edna approached him with a steamed look. "You actually did that? How many times do I have to tell you we can't get involved with patients like that? No matter what they are!"
Zhu sighed and looked away with a twinge of embarrassment. "I thought I heard two people in there... so you saw all that?"
"Yeah, I never imagined you could get so angry like that. Even now, you seem like a pretty laid back guy." Malik said.
"That's not always true." He motioned for John to pull out his phone. "Look up the name Arnold J. Russo."
John did so and read the search results, the shock in his eyes was all Zhu needed to see. "This guy is a..."
"Correct. He stabbed four children in the local park. Completely unprovoked, he was just a monster. For years I've treated people with the sole goal of saving lives. But when we end up being forced to take in someone who tries to take lives for fun, I lose it a bit. I tried to be civil, but then I overheard he tried to use a suspicious object on one of the doctors and lost it." His look darkened as he thought back. "I took him to our Harmful Storage room."
"Your what?" John asked.
"A place where we store all dangerous objects found on patients. Whether they were used with the intention to hurt or they were the victims of said weapons." Edna responded.
Zhu nodded. "Even that one weirdo that got himself stuck on barbed wire, it's all there."
"Unreal." John hit his face in absolute humiliation. "But it all seemed so bizarre. The evidence, the holes, everything!" He thought to himself hard. "Am I forgetting anything?"
"Don't give up yet John, there's still one more question that needs answering..." he and Suzie shared a confused glance as Malik walked up to the doctors. "If there isn't anything weird going on here, then how do you explain this place being in total darkness? It's like a horror show up in here!"
Suddenly, Floor X flicked to a bright white. The entire hall illuminated no different than the rest of the hospital. Malik did a double take before spotting Zhu nonchalantly standing with his finger down on some kind of switch. "Because the lights weren't on yet. Simple as that."
"Rest is an important part of the recovery process, thus we have to turn the main lights off after a certain time." Zhu smirked. "Now that I think of it, you guys only came here at night right?"
All three had been completely brought back to reality.
"Now then, if we've all come to an understanding..." Edna handed Zhu a thin file, I'll reach out to your parents and have them pick you up. I have your information John but I don't believe I've treated the others before."
A chill went through John's spine. "O-Oh okay, please don't do that. We sort of did the thing where we told our parents we were staying at someone's house and then did vice versa with the others.
Malik nodded feverishly. "Right now, John and Suzie's folks think we're all just chilling at mine. We'll be screwed if you tell them!"
"Well what do you expect me to do? You broke into here for the absolute dumbest of reasons along with tripling my workload and hours." Zhu scoffed.
The receptionist laid a hand on his shoulder. "Hold on. Maybe it would be best to just let things slide just this once."
"Wha- why?" All four were surprised. Nobody had expected Edna to be the diplomat.
"John's so-called evidence may not be all that useful but he is aware of what you did to Arnold. Even if you were in the right, anything is better than your name being connected to him. You'd probably get fired if what happened ever were to get out."
The doctor thought for a moment before swaying his dreads and sighing. "If I let you kids go without telling your parents, will you promise never to speak of that incident?"
The three exchanged a glance before John smiled nervously. "Yeah, that sounds fair I guess."
Zhu nodded with a careful look. "Okay, but I mean it when I say don't show up here again without a parent or guardian. Unless you've got blood coming out of your mouth, that rule is staying in place for you three until you all turn 18." He got behind them and began to push the trio out. "I could've been home by now had it not been for you guys. I hate having to walk out under that hot sun." He sighed.
8
The sun peeked into the teal morning sky as John, Malik and Suzie tread down the sidewalk with the hospital in the distance. Occasionally looking back to find the redhead from before, still watching them with his arms crossed. They were definitely getting some looks the next time they showed up there.
"Wow, they really had an explanation for everything..." Malik chuckled embarrassed.
"What kind of anesthesia were they using in there. Seriously." Suzie hissed.
"Well I guess we should delete those pictures of the weapons room when we get back huh? But let's get more rest first. My feet are killing me." He turned to John who began to trail behind."
"Isn’t that right buddy?" John's gaze was focused on his feet as he walked slower.
"Dude?" Malik walked back to get him before the impulsive boy just looked away.
"I'm sorry guys." He muttered.
"Hm? What for?" Suzie asked.
"I got you so hyped up for nothing more than a wild goose chase." John confessed. "Maybe I should just quit the channel. I'm no truth seeker."
Malik just looked at him for a second before scoffing with a smile. "Don't sell yourself so short man. This was still a blast!"
John's eyes slowly raised back up. "Huh?"
"Malik is right. Sure we didn't find any actual Werewolves but we do still have some good material for the story time segment."
Some light returned to the ambitious boy's eyes. "We... do?"
"Yeah, I mean just take out Zhu and Arnold's names, twist some of the facts and we got a cool spooky story. Sure it's not a myth hunt like we usually do but our viewers still like getting spooked in general now and then."
"Yeah... yeah! I'll get started on that as soon as we get home!" An energetic, toothy smile took over John's face. As he was imagining new hopes for the channel after all, loud sirens blared from down the hill.
"Let's sleep first. My body is so weak the sirens of those cop cars are making me ache all over." Malik shivered.
"Hope nothing serious happened." Suzie crossed her arms in concern. "Just thinking about another situation like what Arnold did makes my heart race."
"Same." John chuckled. "Wait... heart race."
"Dude you're mumbling again." Malik sighed.
John's walking slowed again as he thought back to the initial checkup with Zhu and how something strange happened around the start of it. But not before another police car blared on by and shook him back to the present.
Frustrated, he stomped ahead of the two. Officially done with his investigation and ready to head home. "You know what? Forget it, let's get back to your place Malik. I'm gonna crash in my sleeping bag for at least four hours then work on the story.
Malik grinned with delight. "Sounds like a plan. After all, that's around the time when mom gets up to make pancakes."
"Ah finally, a reward for all this hard work." Suzie laughed. "Now let's hope we can get there in time before those four hours are up."
John whipped out his phone. "I'll find a bus station near us. That'll be a big help."
"Stuff like this is why I'm getting my license the second I'm old enough." Malik added.
"Oh and I'll have front row seats to see you crash into everything." Suzie taunted.
As the two continued their antics, John swiped along his phone with the worries of the doctor finally put to rest.
Seeking nothing more than to go and rest with his friends which he did.
***
The deafening sirens of several police cars blared around the hospital. The remaining staff who had a rather peaceful night as opposed to Zhu and Edna watched with concern as serval officers hurried into the main hall.
"How is that possible? He just arrived yesterday!" A police chief demanded to know as he listened to his second in command.
"That's what the staff say sir. Arnold is missing!"
***
Deep within Floor X, Edna walked. Searching for that one secluded room that was never occupied. The place that was never opened by anyone except for one. The room that was Zhu's personal favorite place. Stepping in, the strong smell hit her immediately. It had been a long time since he had been driven to such lengths.
She approached the room's closet and slowly opened it. The walls within were painted with vicious splatters of red.
Her gaze darkened as she just sighed and looked down below. Finding Zhu hunched over and slurping something. Underneath him, was the corpse of Arnold J. Russo.
"You really just couldn't stay away from him could you?" She grumbled and put on a face mask to block out the stench of blood.
With a moist rip, Zhu tore his mouth from Arnold's neck and smiled with dark satisfaction. Revealing two long fangs painted in crimson along with half his face all the way down to his shirt. His normally green eyes shined a murderous red.
"First of all, I didn't get to have any of my midnight snacks I made due to having to clean up after those kids earlier." He licked his soaked lips. "Second, I found this." He handed her a white shriveled piece of paper.
"What's this?"
"Read the names."
Edna took it and did just that. One by one, it had the names of several kids, at the bottom of the list however were there new ones scribbled in a different colored pen. John, Suzie and Malik. "These are... the kids! But why would he-"
"Look at the names above them. According to the few reports out there so far, those are the children he stabbed. John and his friends were next."
"This is a hit list? But why? I didn't even think he saw them." Edna then thought for a moment. "Then again, I think he did have a brief altercation with them while I was chasing them down the stairwell."
"I told the scumbag that I would tear out his throat should he try to kill anyone. Even those brats don't deserve that. Now they're safe and I got breakfast." He snickered and licked his lips more. "Plus the dude is crafty. I spotted him watching the three as they left from a window. That was when I knew to act."
"He must've overheard their names being spoken when we were all trying to figure out more about them." Edna pursed her lips. "Well, it's not like he'll be missed." She smiled a bit despite the horrific situation. Letting her role as the monster's accomplice take over. "This just makes me laugh more at the irony of them thinking you're a Werewolf."
"Yeah, I've been around plenty and I've got to say, those kids sure are repeating stereotypes." He got up to his feet and kicked the body aside. "Then again, I would prefer it if you remained the only one who truly knew what I am."
He looked down. "Now then, as much as I'd like to drain him dry, it's only a matter of time till the police start sweeping all floors. I'd better get rid of the evidence."
Edna slipped on some operation gloves. "I know just what to do. But first, let's clean the closet and get you a change of clothes."
***
Half an hour later, back in the main hall, the second-in-command approached his chief with a morbid face. "Sir uh... we found the stabber."
"Excellent, where is he?" The chief smiled at first but it slowly melted away as the situation was explained to him.
"At the bottom of one of the stairwells sir. Authorities found him there with lacerations all over his neck and chest. We've deduced that he fell down while trying to sneak out of custody and succumbed to his wounds.
As Zhu and Edna walked past the two policemen, he closed his eyes and let his sense for blood reach out. Tracking the accelerating heart rates of everyone in the lobby, especially his fellow doctors, fearful of the incident.
"Thank goodness our shift ended. Let's leave, people are starting to freak out." He mumbled.
"Agreed, you can sleep in the backseat if you want. I'm going to get coffee before we head home." Edna snickered.
"As long as you finally got those car windows tinted like I keep telling you."
"Ha, and you accused the kids of stereotyping?"
"Well, the 'creature of the night' bit isn't exactly inaccurate, at least for me." He eyed with a slight grin laced in satisfaction as the cops walked off to recover Arnold's body. "Besides, how else would you describe me as a Vampire?"
The two left into the morning as their acts were left completely covered up.
Later that day. John would read a news article about Arnold's freak accident at the hospital only for a moment before casting off doubts and going back to excitedly working on the story time segment with his friends along with planning future investigations into the bizarre.
Continuing to be oblivious of the true monster just one checkup away.
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