I became acutely aware that my tongue didn’t sit right in my mouth, the sensation of my heart beating, the fact that my toes were slightly too tight in my shoes and countless other minor disturbances that ultimately added up to an unending sense of unease. I watched a young couple rush past me, fighting the urge to run myself, and walked up to the display. This was the first, and probably only, carnival worker I had found alone and the way her eyes moved made me think that she was in the habit of watching for details.
The woman seemed surprised that I hadn’t run on to the next room, which quickly shifted to cautious. I smiled as warmly as I could with my jaw not being able to line up properly, “Good afternoon.”
She smiled warily, “I suppose it is. What do you want?”
I suppose a few years of making people uncomfortable would make anyone skeptical about willingly talking to you. I got it. Even though my gifts hadn’t exactly had the same overt effect hers did, I knew what it was like to find trouble for them.[60] Given the skepticism she was already showing, I could tell any attempt to pull the wool over eyes would go poorly. With that in mind, I decided to go with the truth.
“My name is Silas Tennant. I work for the US Marshals and I’m investigating a crime. A lot of fingers are pointing at this circus and I’d hate to see you all get in trouble for it.”
She sneered at me for a second, “What do you care? All you cops want to do is lock us all up at the Citadel.”
The sudden shift from panic to creeping menace in the room caused me to sputter, “Well,” I started before having to breathe and get my train of thought under control, “I care because I’d hate for fingers to get pointed in the wrong direction just because you’re different.”
There was a scoff and a glare as she looked away from me dismissively. “Like I’ve never heard that one before,” she said, biting off her words with contempt that could only come from experience. My hair started to stand on end as I became convinced that someone was watching me. “You’re just trying to pretend you care long enough to get what you want.”
I winced at the scorn and sad acknowledgement that her assessment was probably true for most people in law enforcement. Badges weren’t trusted here, which meant my honesty had been a mistake. I took a breath and fought the urge to look for the person behind me, forcing myself to stop and think of a rebuttal. She didn’t think I could possibly understand her pain. The suffering she had experienced and isolation she had felt because of it. That I didn’t know what it was like to be different.
But, I did get it. Honesty had been the right play; I had just chosen a bad topic to be honest about. Closing my eyes, I dug into my telekinesis, directing my invisible hands to push down evenly on the ground. There was a wobble as my left foot came off the ground, followed by my right. Her aura made it, so I felt the discomfort of weightlessness more keenly than I ever had before and distracting me. A well of panic bubbled within, nearly causing me to drop.
I clenched my teeth, refusing to be bested by some nerves, and felt the copper taste of blood in my mouth from exertion. I swallowed hard and held out for a few more seconds, lifting myself even higher. It felt like I was a mile high, but I knew it couldn’t be more than six inches. Didn’t have the mental muscles for much more. When I felt stable enough, I opened my eyes to see her face somewhere between wonder and fear. Careful not to let my teeth show, I stated, “I care because I get it.”
The impressive display was immediately undercut by someone saying, “Wowwwww,” behind me.
I promptly lost control of my telekinesis and fell flat on my ass. Coming from the snake room, there was a small kid and his parents looking at me. Sprawled on the ground, I smiled sheepishly, trying not to die of embarrassment. They smiled back and waved before moving on.
turned to the woman, who was politely covering a laugh that ruined the entire horror movie aesthetic. I chuckled a bit, and that just set her off. Soon, we were both on the floor laughing our asses off. It felt good. And what made it better is that I felt all the little aches and nuisances fade away as she laughed. We stayed like that for a good minute before we were able to compose ourselves.
Still smiling she offered, “Fair enough there Deputy. Don’t know about crimes, but a few days ago, our strongman, Curtis Voigt got into a fight with the ringmaster about something and stormed off into the night. Right after that the animals all calmed down, even around me. I don’t know if that’s exactly helpful, but it’s the only odd thing I’ve seen recently.”
I picked myself up off the ground, starting to dust myself off, “Know how I’d get into contact with Mr. Voigt?”
She shook her head, “No. And I wouldn’t ask the show runners either if I were you. They’re bloodsuckers in more ways than one and never learned how to play nice with outsiders.” She tilted her head in though, “Although, Charlie Keitner, our giant, was fairly close with Curtis and might know where he ran off to.”
I stood up, trying to figure out why a circus had both a strongman and a giant, and handed her a card, “Many thanks ma’am. Call me if you think of or notice anything else.”
She took the card, shaking her head and chuckling all the while, “You’re welcome. And the name is Emily.”
✽✽✽
I found McCoy looking at a pair of guinea pigs. One of them was dressed in a taco outfit and seemed relatively normal. The other was dressed up to look like he had a cyborg eye and a mechanical arm as he stood on his hind two legs. From a distance it almost looked like the standing guinea pig and McCoy were talking. I walked up eyeing the guinea pigs contemplatively and considered the two animals. Clearly, they were some kind of props, puppets, or maybe good animatronics. The mechanical eye swung to consider me, and I swear the guinea pig smiled. Really good animatronics then.
“Disney, eat your heart out,” I said.
Which was a mistake. McCoy apparently didn’t hear me come up and responded to the sudden presence with a blur of motion. The world spun and before I realized it, I was flat on my back with a gun pressed discretely against my chest and a knee on my diaphragm, “Fre…. oh, shit. Sorry, Tennant.” She apologized, looking appropriately embarrassed. I just sat there shocked and to be completely honest a little winded. Eventually, I found my voice, “I’ll make a note not to sneak up on you ever again and forgive you provided you do one thing.”
She cocked her eyebrow,
“You get off my chest and stop pointing a gun at me.”
“Right,” she said sheepishly. She stood up, the gun went back into its holster and the ability to breathe returned in a merciful rush. I coughed a little and then took the hand she offered me up. “Didn’t know you were so jumpy.” I said, dusting myself off.
She shrugged, clearly wanting to move past the entire situation, “I guess old habits that die hard.”
I contemplated that and decided I didn’t want to probe any further. “Well, whatever those habits were, it certainly gave you some solid practice. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone not enhanced in some way move that fast.”
She smiled slightly at the compliment, looking around a little as she filled me in. “I didn’t find much. The carnival seems to be run by a few vampires who are societal rejects. Explains why the O’Dell’s recommended coming during the day. Near as I can tell, they aren’t forcing any feeding, but I’d like to get a warrant just to be sure.”
I nodded in agreement and considered it before responding. Not strictly protocol and certainly more than we had time for right now, but definitely the right thing to do. “We’ll pass it along to Milwaukee’s division and offer to be back up if need be. We’re in the middle of a case right now and can’t spare the time,” I suggested with a tilt of my head.
McCoy nodded in a satisfied manner before moving on. “Fair enough. What else did you find out besides how good my quick draw is?”
I filled what I had seen, leaving out the embarrassing bit of falling on my ass. She listened and nodded, “Well, certainly more than I found and this strongma
n certainly matches the information we have.” There was a pause where she rolled her shoulders, “But so does half the state. Where do we find this giant?”
I wanted to point out that we had a bit more than ‘male’, but decided it wasn’t worth the argument and instead pointed towards the trailers behind the big top, “Emily said the giant camped out over there during the day, normally working on repairs. Just follow the clanging.”
McCoy cocked an eyebrow, “Emily? First name basis already?”
“It’s the only name she gave me,” I flustered at her before turning to walk towards the trailers.
McCoy laughed, “Did she give you a phone number too?”
I felt myself blushing, “No, I gave her mine.” McCoy doubled over laughing at me. I could feel the blush traveling down my neck as I valiantly tried to defend myself, “In case she remembered anything else or saw something weird!”
“Sure, that’s the only reason why,” McCoy managed to get out between fits of giggles.
“Shut up,” I muttered sullenly.[61]
Chapter 10
Keitner
By the time I had circumnavigated the circus enough to be by the supply trailers, I was slightly sweaty and very annoyed. Apparently, being flipped onto your back aggravated knots. Who knew? McCoy seemed to be in a better mood, but whether that was because we were moving away from people or because she flipped me, I didn’t know. Regardless, I was just happy to finally hear the clanging sounds Emily had pointed me towards.
Still, McCoy and I had to pick our way through the maze of trailers and RV’s before we finally found Keitner. Keitner, in addition to being the giant, apparently also did part time work as a blacksmith. As we walked up, he was hammering away at something working at an open-air forge. Even hunched over the anvil, you could tell he was large the slope of his back raised well above my head.
I stepped forward, “Mr. Keitner!” I yelled to be heard over the din of work. He put up a single finger indicating we should wait and went back to hammering. A few minutes later, he picked up the red-hot item with tongs and burrowed it in a bucket of water. A rush of steam later, he pulled out a very recognizable horseshoe. He appraised his work for a second before nodding satisfiedly to himself, setting it down and walking over to us.
Okay, large was an understatement. Man was easily seven and a half feet tall and had wide stocky shoulders. His right arm was notably bigger than his left, probably from a life working at the forge, but both were bigger around than my head. His arms swung casually as he walked, almost creating a hum from the sheer amount of air they displaced. I sized the muscles carefully, idly wondering if he might be our killer. He looked like he might be able to give Carlson a run for his money, but his hands were too big for the chest wounds. When we were a few steps away, I looked away from the arms, craning my neck to look him in the eye. He met my eyes and smiled warmly. His voice fit his frame; loud, boisterous, and affable. “Good afternoon folks! What can I do for ya?”
I stepped forward to introduce us, “Deputies McCoy and Tennant. We’re looking into a series of crimes and we’re hoping you could help us out.”
His face and shoulders visibly fell before I had even finished talking. “Oh,” he stated quietly, “I figured this was coming.” There was a moment where I was wondering if he was going to try and run before he shook his shoulders out, “We should sit down for this. Beer anyone?”
I shook my head in a polite refusal. McCoy visibly hesitated and then followed my lead. “Suit yourself,” Keitner said before making his way over to a collection of chairs at the edge of the clearing his forge sat in. He dropped himself into a large and sturdily built wood chair and immediately set about fishing through the cooler next to it. After a moment, he pulled out a Miller, opened it with his forearm, and threw it back in one go. There was a pause followed by a burp before he turned to us. “You’re here about Curt, right?” he asked cautiously, fishing out another beer.
“That is my understanding of the situation, Mr. Keitner,” I responded in my best professional tone as I stepped forward and took a seat.
Keitner smiled, “You can call me Charlie, most everyone does.”
McCoy stepped in, “Okay Charlie, what can you tell us about Curtis Voigt?”
Keitner nodded solemnly, “A few years back Curt was in the hospital for cancer. It was everywhere. Pancreas, liver, lungs, and a few places I don’t recall. Anyways, a man came to Curt and offered him a way to cheat death. Fight off the cancer and live again.”
I raised my eyebrows. This screamed dangerous magical pact thing but the idea of being able to cure cancer would be truly phenomenal. There were half a dozen labs throughout the nation who were looking into magical remedies and methods to see if they could be applied to the average person, hoping to push the boundaries of modern science and redefine the cutting edge.[62] Keitner saw my surprise and shook his head solemnly with the despair of a man who’s had to tell this story before. Hope cut out, I could feel a knot forming in my stomach as I started putting the pieces together.
“Curt, not wanting to die overly much, readily agreed. Man then gave Curt what Curt describes as the single tastiest steak ever, whole pound of it. Thing was barely cooked, but Curt ate the entire pound in one sitting and promptly fell asleep. When Curt woke up, he was cured. Cancer was gone, he was fit and happier than he had ever been. He got a clean bill of health and was sent home with no issues.” He let that sentence hang ominously, the unspoken truth ringing out.
Nothing in life worth having comes easy.
Keitner sat back and sipped the beer contemplatively, “Apparently, the fix was temporary. About a month later, the cancer came back. Curt went out to track down the man who fed him the steak about why it wasn’t working. The man told him if Curt didn’t keep eating the meat, he’d start relapsing. Curt asked where he could get more. The man just smiled and told him where to get it.” The knot was fully formed and sinking fast in my gut. “He just had to find someone to eat.”
McCoy let out a low whistle and I fought the urge to gag. Apparently, the green reached my face and Keitner, nodded sympathetically, stated, “Bout what I did when I found out. Anyways, Curt didn’t want to die, but he didn’t want to eat people. So, he started doing what he could to survive. Turns out that if someone died in an accident, as long as he started eating them before they rotted, he was good. So, he started listening to APBs and bribing folks to donate bodies to him for science.”
McCoy cut in, ‘You’re aware that’s like seven different crimes right there? If you knew about them, we have to charge you for aiding and abetting.” Her tone was probably meant to be informative but came across accusatory.
Keitner shrugged resignedly, clearly not concerned with the implications. “Ma’am, you do what you feel you need to. I’m more worried about what’s going on with Curt.”
That’s an odd response. Probably a man dealing with some guilt. I put my hand up at McCoy, “Let’s hear this out before we do anything. I don’t think Mr. Keitner’s done with his story yet.”
I paused before thinking in her direction, “Besides, I think he knew that going in. Looks like he wants to atone.” I hoped that actively directed though would help her pick up something despite the troubles me being an EEP normally gave her. McCoy caught my eye and nodded and Keitner took that as a sign to continue.
“Curt went on like that for a few years, but I’d imagine about six months ago he figured out something else. He started coming in, stronger and bulkier. Thought maybe he had started doing extra workouts or doing some steroids or something for the act, but the strength came in too quick and didn’t have nearly enough muscle to back it up. He started getting distant and reclusive. Turns out that he was eating more. The more he ate, the stronger he got. But also, the more the hunger built.”
He paused, staring off into the flames. After another sip or two he forced himself forward, “Turns out he was getting more distant because he was looking at us like food instead of people. I�
�d like to think that he was disturbed by that and trying to get away from us and those thoughts. Or maybe it was a predator recognizing you couldn’t be friends with your prey.” He sighed, and leaned back waving a hand airily, “Didn’t matter. The ringmaster and show runners found him with fresh bodies in his freezer about a week ago and kicked him out. Never bothered them before, but it had never been more than one before now. Apparently, that’s their line in the sand.” There was an undertone of disgust when he said that that was full of raw emotion. Uncertainty and confusion undercut with betrayal.
I felt McCoy simmering at my side and quickly interjected myself before she started doing something horribly stupid, but probably morally right.[63]
“Would you be willing to go on record stating that the showrunners knew and covered up Voigt’s predilections so that we could officially charge the show runners with a crime. Perhaps for a plea deal.”
Keitner looked solemn, “Hell, I’ll do it for two concessions. Small ones.”
Anger started radiating off McCoy. I could hear it in my brain. Seething, festering, and threatening to overcome my thoughts and infect my mind. ‘Fuck him,’ it hissed, ‘He deserves no quarter!’
I took a breath and sectioned her out. “What condition would that be Mr. Keitner?”
“Two things. One, you leave the rest of the carnies alone. Near as I can tell, it was only me and the show runners in the know. Two, I don’t get a plea deal.”
McCoy’s anger abruptly cut off and my thoughts were clear once again. Her shock was clear. Apparently, the idea of someone wanting to atone for their sins was horridly alien to her. I personally got it.[64]
“We can manage that. We just need to know where Voigt is now so we can stop him from hurting more people.”
Charlie nodded, tears welling in his massive eyes. “Of course. He’s…”
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