Colus Valda was standing behind a tree in Grant Park. He was watching a young couple lying on the grass making out. “Oh, yeahhh,” he said with his knees together. He just stood there, out of sight, and watched. He started to get closer to the tree. A drop of saliva ran from his open mouth and down his chubby chin. That’s when he saw the white vintage automobile in the distance driving up Seventh Avenue.
“Ahh! The IPF agent!” He tried his best to put as much of the tree between him and the vehicle as possible. But the tree was not that wide. He just kept angling himself behind the tree as the agent drove by. When the vehicle was far beyond Grant Park, Colus Valda started to run. He waddled back and forth like a penguin trying his best to cross Seventh Avenue. When he finally made it across, he was horribly out of breath. How are these humans capable of running? he thought to himself. As he was catching his breath he looked up Seventh Avenue. He could see the vintage automobile far up the road. And to his horror, he saw the brake lights come on. Then, the automobile made a ‘U’ turn and started to come back.
“Ahh, no! No! No!” He started running again. He stumbled and tripped as he turned East on Fifth Avenue, getting stares from the people walking the street. He just made it to an alley and hid beside a dumpster breathing heavily when the white vehicle slowly drove by. He held his breath. Sweat poured from his forehead. He could see the agent clearly. Dark hair, dark glasses, dark suit, and traveling with that human canine. “Now that’s just damn odd,” he said out loud as the vehicle passed. His back was against the wall of the alley as he slowly slid down behind the dumpster and sat in the fetal position in a small puddle of smelly water. He did not move for the rest of the day.
When it was very dark and the moon was very high, Colus Valda tentatively left his haven behind the dumpster. His back and legs hurt badly as he walked to the street and looked up and down. He saw no vehicles whatsoever. None parked. None traveling. Especially the white one. It was very late and the sidewalks were empty. He flexed his back and started to move his legs to get the circulation going again. He stood for a long moment just looking around. Then his whole body quivered and he grabbed his crotch. “Oh, shit! I gotta spark something! It’s time to put my plan into action.”
Thirty minutes later he was in the basement of his intended target. He had cased the building out several days earlier and found a badly locked door, which gave him access. There was very little lighting; he had trouble seeing. The furnace hissed loudly. Over by the far wall, mops and smelly buckets sat. A large pile of newspapers were stacked to be recycled on the following day. Perfect, he thought to himself. He walked over to the newspapers with his hand in his pocket. He pulled out a small plastic container, popped off the top, and poured the Calbenite out into a nice neat little pile beside the stack. He found two half-full cans of paint thinner emblazoned with the words “flammable” on them and placed them next to the little pile as well. Then, reaching into his other pocket, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes.
Valda took a cigarette out, placed it between his lips and lit the end with a disposable lighter. He inhaled and started coughing and hacking. “Oh, shit!” he coughed again. “Why do humans do this to themselves?” He made sure the tip of the cigarette glowed red hot then he took it between his index finger and thumb and, gently and carefully, placed the filtered end into the small pile of Calbenite, standing it up erect. It would take at least ten to fifteen minutes for it to burn down and ignite.
Colus Valda exited the building. He waited for about two minutes then, looking up and down the street. He didn’t see the white vintage automobile. There were people around the building, but no one noticed the fat, pudgy little man as he left the area. He was very excited as he walked back to Chloe’s duplex. “Oh, I hope Bollar is watching the entertainment box tomorrow!”
Chapter Thirty-Three
It was one in the morning. Jeff Trent was sleeping in his room neatly tucked under the pastel covers of his bed. Genghis Khan was across the hall in his room, curled up on top of his covers next to the pillows. There was a faint sound in the distance, then seconds later the windows rattled with the traveling concussion of the blast. Jeff and Genghis met each other in the small hall.
“What the hell was that?” Genghis asked.
“Not sure, but I think we better get on the road.”
Ten minutes later they were in the cruiser traveling across the Seventh Avenue bridge heading to Old Town. They could see an orange glow on the dark horizon toward the west. An emergency vehicle screamed past them. Genghis had the computer up and said, “The cameras in this area are all working. Maybe he’s still at the scene.” They followed the emergency vehicle and as the glow on the horizon got brighter the smoke from the blaze could be seen rising into the air. Cameras started to go out. “He’s definitely in the area. Probably watching the action. Maybe we can finally nab him.”
They followed the red-and-white ambulance as it turned on 10th St. into the Compton Square district of Old Town. The lights on the vehicle reflected off the surrounding buildings as it drove on, siren screaming.
“Bet you five bucks it’s the one on 13th Avenue,” Genghis said, as he now could smell the acidic smoke in the air. The glow in the distance grew even brighter. “It’s in the middle of reconstruction with plenty of fresh wood inside.” They could see the black churning smoke as it rose in between the buildings. The ambulance turned down 11th Avenue, and Trent followed.
Flames now could be seen shooting into the night sky. They could see several fire engines parked with hoses out dousing the flames. “Oh, no! Genghis,” Trent said, as the building came into view. Police and firefighters were hustling residents of the Compton Apartments to a row of waiting ambulances that were parked across the street in a vacant field, back doors open, interiors brightly lit.
“Ah shit, Jeff!” Genghis shouted, as he stood on the seat of the cruiser looking over the windshield. “That’s Twinkie’s building!”
The building was fully engulfed. Fire shot out of every window from the ground floor to the roof. Blue wooden police barricades surrounded the perimeter, keeping spectators out of harm's way. Police cars with their lights flashing were parked everywhere. Television news vehicles were all parked behind the barricades. Bright lights illuminated the reporters as they went live with the story.
Jeff slowed the Thunderbird and angled it to the curb. But before he could park, Genghis hurtled himself out of the cruiser and started running toward the building. “Genghis! Wait for me!” Trent called to him. “They might want to know if you’re a service dog!” He shut the engine off and got out, following his partner.
Genghis ran toward the police barricades. Two uniformed police officers were standing on the other side with their backs to the approaching dog, watching the blaze. “Man,” one police officer said to the other. “You ever see anything burn like this before?” Just then, something fast came from beneath the barricades and ran between them. “Shit! What the fuck was that? A pony?” The other officer watched as the big dog ran and disappeared behind a fire truck. “No, god damn it!” he said exasperated. “It was a dog. Now we have to get Animal Control down here.”
Trent ran up to the two police officers and instinctively and without thinking reached into his trench coat’s inside breast pocket and pulled out the bi-fold case holding his Interstellar Police Force badge and I.D. He quickly showed it to the two policemen then closed it. “Officers, let me through,” Trent said with an air of authority, “I’m investigating this arson.” And without another word Jeff wedged himself between the two eight-foot-long barricades and pushed past the two police officers.
“Um,” one officer said, while looking at the other officer who also saw just a large badge. “Yes, sir, go right ahead.”
Trent found Genghis in the middle of three parked fire trucks, standing in a tangle of wet hoses, illuminated by the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles. His nose was up, sniffing rapidly. “Jeff, there’s just too much in the air. I can’t l
ocate her.”
The scene was chaotic. Police and medical personnel were running in all directions. Residents of the apartment complex were crying, some shouting out names, desperately trying to find friends and family. Close to Genghis and Trent, two firefighters were crouching low to the ground, holding a powerful water hose. The massive stream of water reached the top floor windows. They looked around. Two medical personnel were tending to a man on the ground. One paramedic was on his knees next to the victim, both hands interlocked and pushing down hard on the man's chest. A police officer rushed by, carrying an elderly woman in his arms to a waiting ambulance. The wind blew in a torrent of swirling smoke and embers. Something crashed behind them, and they both quickly looked as part of the roof collapsed into the building. Radios crackled with frantic voices. “All units move out, move out. We’re losing the building.” Jeff saw the two firefighters shut their hose off and move further back about fifteen yards. They crouched again and switched the hose back on.
Jeff and Genghis walked quickly across the street to a small field where the row of ambulances were parked. Many people were being treated. Some sat on the ground with blankets over their shoulders while others were lying on their backs being tended to. One ambulance slammed its back doors shut and pulled away with siren and lights just as an air ambulance helicopter was landing, rotors beating hard against the smoky night sky.
Jeff stood watching the frantic scenario play out before him, seemingly in slow motion. The sights and sounds filled his senses as police officers assured people that they were alright and firefighters ran carrying heavy loads, shouting for assistance. The deep throaty roar of a fire truck’s engine reverberated as the vehicle pulled in to help with the fight. Sirens near and far wailed. Somewhere deep within the building, sounded a loud explosion that blew out the windows of the adjacent building, the glass raining down in glistening shards. Jeff Trent just stood there. He could do nothing but stare, worrying more and more about Jennifer.
Then he saw her.
“Genghis! There she is.”
Jennifer was sitting on a gurney in the back of one of the ambulances with a paramedic by her side. Another one was climbing into the driver's seat. She had a clear plastic mask over her nose and mouth. She saw them too and raised a hand and gave them a weak little wave. They both approached.
“Twinkie, are you alright? Are you hurt?” Genghis hopped up and placed his front paws onto the bumper of the ambulance to get a better look at her. She was slightly hyperventilating and just shook her head no. Jeff turned to the paramedic, “Madam, how badly is she hurt?”
The paramedic was taking a blood pressure cuff off of Jennifer, “She’s got very minor burns on her hands and feet and possible smoke inhalation. I’m going to be taking her in and have her held overnight for observation.”
Jennifer looked at the paramedic and in between deep gasps of air, “No! I don’t want to.”
“Twinkie,” Trent said softly. She looked at him with eyes that were ringed in red. He saw black soot around her nose and the corners of her mouth. The ends of her hair were singed, her clothes were reeking of smoke. “Twinkie, you do what this doctor says.” He reached up and gently pushed her hair off her eyes. “Okay?”
Jennifer pulled the mask a little away from her face so she could talk. “It started so fast.” She took a big gasp of air. “People were running and screaming.” Another big gulp of air. “I was going down the stairs with everybody else, and somebody pushed me and knocked me down.” She absentmindedly rubbed her right knee that had a light purple bruise on it. Another big inhale. “That’s when I remembered my picture and ran back to my apartment.”
Genghis looked. Leaning against her on the gurney was the framed picture of Jennifer and her dog. The glass had a crack running through it.
Another big gasp of air. “The fire alarm was so loud and there was so much smoke.” She started hyperventilating again. “I was so scared,” and she started to cry.
“Okay, Jennifer. That’s enough,” the paramedic gently said, readjusting the oxygen mask. “Jennifer, I’m going to lower the back of the gurney now, and I want you to lie back, okay?”
“Okay,” Jennifer said, in between sobs. As she was lying back she looked up at Jeff. “Will you come and get me tomorrow?”
Trent reached in and took Jennifer’s hand, “Of course we will.”
The paramedic reached for the doors of the ambulance, “Let’s move out, Mickey,” she said to the man behind the wheel. She looked at Trent and said, “She’ll be at Saint Mary’s.”
Trent looked at her and said, “Thank you, Doctor.” The paramedic smiled at that and gave Trent a wink and closed the doors.
Genghis Khan and Jeff Trent stood and watched as the ambulance drove down the road and over a small rise two blocks away and disappeared behind it, flashing lights slowly surrendering to the darkness.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Genghis was standing on the back bench seat of the Thunderbird, eyes glued to the large double glass doors of Saint Mary’s. The top of the cruiser was down as always, and Trent had parked it about twenty yards from the hospital, the only spot he could find. The doors slid open and Genghis’s ears perked up. A male and a female with a small child in tow came out to a waiting car by the front curb. There were three news trucks parked in front of the hospital. Reporters stood in front of cameras on tripods.
“My! Aren’t you a handsome dog?” a lady said to the Doberman, as she passed the Thunderbird. This broke Genghis’s concentration on the door as he turned his head to see who was talking to him. “Bug off!”
The apartment fire of Building C of the Compton Apartments finally came under control around seven that morning when it completely collapsed into itself. Twenty-five people were injured with everything from minor cuts and scrapes to smoke inhalation to third degree burns. Seven were dead, with two still missing.
Genghis fixed his eyes again on the glass doors of Saint Mary’s, not knowing why he couldn’t turn away. He stood there and stared. The doors automatically slid open, and Genghis was fixated on them. Then, Jeff emerged. He stopped and turned, looking into the lobby of the hospital. An orderly came out pushing a wheelchair with Jennifer. Jeff reached into his trench coat pocket and put his Wayfarers on as the orderly locked the wheel chair and helped Jennifer to her feet. Genghis’s tail started vigorously wagging back and forth. “There it goes again!”
Jennifer was walking gingerly with her arm hooked around Trent’s elbow wearing cheap hospital slippers and light green hospital scrubs. As they got closer, Genghis heard her say, “Oh, it’s so nice being outta there.” Trent opened the passenger side door for her and she sat down. Genghis couldn’t help himself and he wasn’t sure why, but he leaned over and started licking Jennifer’s face, ears folded back on his head. “Okay, okay, I missed you too, Genghis.” She took both hands and cradled his head and gave him a kiss on his nose. Which made him sneeze loudly.
Jennifer’s injuries were not serious enough for bandages. She had a small white bag with prescription pain medication just in case and a cream that she was told to put on her hands and feet twice a day. Her lungs were clear. Trent sat behind the wheel and started up the Thunderbird.
“Twinkie, are you hungry?” Jeff asked, as they pulled from the parking spot.
“Yes!” she replied. “Hospital food sucks!”
They drove onto the road, and Jeff replied, “I know of a great French restaurant with very nice outdoor seating.”
Jennifer didn’t realize how hungry she really was. It was 6 pm, and the three of them sat at a table outside of Le Pot Au Feu and ate. There were four other couples in the outdoor seating area, and one woman was disgusted when she saw the Doberman sit on a chair and eat his food off a plate from the table. Jennifer was full, but ordered dessert anyway and shared it with the both of them.
They talked over coffee. Jeff regaled Jennifer with some of the exciting cases he and his partner had worked on in their long career in law
enforcement, carefully omitting details that wouldn’t apply here on Earth. Jennifer remarked that she wanted to meet his partner someday, and that he sounded pretty cool. Jennifer then started talking more about the fire and how she managed to make her way downstairs after retrieving her picture. She said how she had to feel her way downstairs through the thick black smoke and out a side back door right into the arms of a firefighter who was running in. They talked until 9 pm. Jeff paid the tab and the three of them exited the patio and walked back to the Thunderbird. Jerry wasn’t surprised. No tip. Again!
Jeff pulled the Thunderbird into the garage below their apartment. “Jeff,” Jennifer said again. “Really! I can stay at the Motel Five on 5th. It’s okay!”
“Nonsense,” Trent said, with a wave of his hand. “We have plenty of room. And tomorrow we go shopping and we’ll buy you a whole new wardrobe.”
“Jeff, that’s sweet of you, but you don’t have to! I have a bank account, you know.”
“Ahh!” he said, raising his hands to his head. “My human ears don’t hear you. My ears don’t hear you.”
She laughed as she grabbed her little white bag of meds and they all got out of the Thunderbird. “Oh, before I forget.” Jeff reached into his coat pocket and handed Jennifer the framed photograph of her and her dog.
She took it from him, “Thanks for carrying this for me.”
The Interstellar Police Force, Book One: The Historic Mission Page 16