“Did you call CNN?” I asked.
“No.”
“Why not? I mean… if that’s what your concern is—”
“No, no—you misunderstand me. I’m not looking for the press to come to Hawk Claw. In fact, I’m dreading it. But I think that it says something about the investigation if no one even knows about this.”
“Angela… I’m sorry… I’m a little tired. These danishes are amazing, by the way. But I am totally lost. What does it mean that the press has yet to break the story? There’s a cover-up? A cover-up by whom? For what purpose?”
“You’re new to town, aren’t you?” she asked, seemingly out of the blue.
“Well… no. I mean, I’ve been here a year and a half.”
“So, you probably don’t even know anything about them.”
“About who?” I asked.
“The MCP,” she said. “The Messianic Cathedral of Penance. The one organization that has its claws into everything around here. Forgive the pun. They’ve got their claws into everything in Hawk Claw,” and she paused to let out another maniacal shriek. “The MCP,” she continued, “That’s who’s behind this. I’ve lived here for twenty-seven years, Stephen. Trust me. This much I am sure of. The MCP is behind our two murder victims, and now they’ve initiated a massive cover-up. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.”
I digested that for a bit, along with the delicious homemade raspberry danish. I sipped some more coffee. “Even if that’s all true,” I said, “And I’m not saying it isn’t—I believe you—but I don’t really know anything about the MCP. For the moment, let’s just say you’re right. In general, I’m not much of a conspiracy theorist, but I’d still believe it. It makes as much sense as any explanation I’ve come up with so far. But I still don’t understand why you invited me here.”
What happened next was, Angela and I talked it over for a while, and Gary popped into the room every once in a while, to ‘check on us’, and after much discussion, which may or may not have been rational, I went ahead and made a really stupid decision. In the time that has elapsed since that night, I’ve come to terms with this. Although other decisions I’ve made have had been pretty dumb, I really think that was arguably the stupidest of them all. Like the young, indestructible kid who stands on top of a cliff and decides to jump in the water, despite not knowing how deep it is, I decided to leap without any thought as to the potential consequences. The one thing that makes me feel a little bit better about it is that both Angela and Gary were egging me on, encouraging me to make the leap. They wanted me to see things their way, and for that night, I did. In fact, I don’t know that I ever stopped seeing things their way, but it doesn’t change what happened.
Angela, Gary, and I drove up to the MCP compound in the middle of the night. The Messianic Cathedral of Penance is about an hour west, and slightly north, of the town of Hawk Claw. Deputy Emily Holland had been up there, but I had not been there, and I had no idea what to expect. I thought we were just going to take a drive. I thought we would scout out the area and maybe talk to some people—I honestly didn’t know what I was getting into. At dinner, Angela talked a lot about the warehouses full of coal and firewood, and she called the MCP ‘preppers’, and said they were hiding something. And, while the ‘wall of the MCP’ was something I was vaguely aware of, I thought it was just a rumor, or perhaps a metaphor—like a wall of silence—I didn’t realize it was an actual wall. But in any case, I agreed to go, and here is what transpired.
After a nice steak dinner, and more coffee, we took their Toyota Land Cruiser and left Tumbledown ranch at about ten p.m. That was almost the time my shift would have started, and I was still on that night schedule, so I was just waking up fully. The ride, with Gary at the wheel, and me in the back, was relatively uneventful.
At one point, Gary pulled over because he said he heard a rattle. He checked the front and the back of the Land Cruiser but didn’t find anything. We got back on the road. Gary had worn black jeans at dinner, and he had slipped on a black sweatshirt, but I wasn’t paying enough attention to notice as Angela changed into an all-black outfit as we drove.
As we got nearer, Gary turned on a handheld GPS device that he had mounted on the dashboard. It was fancy and had a very detailed map. I remember thinking, when he turned off the headlights, that I might have bitten off more than I could chew. But Angela and Gary were so mild mannered and rational—this couldn’t possibly be a huge mistake.
After gently coaxing the Land Cruiser around a few more bends, Gary abruptly yanked the wheel hard over, shifted into four-wheel-drive, and turned into a field of overgrown brush. Suddenly I was being jounced around the back of the vehicle like it was an amusement park ride. I hadn’t expected it—and I went to say something.
“Gary—” I said, from the back, and was met with both of them turning around abruptly. That was when I saw that they were both wearing night vision goggles.
“SSSHHHHHHHH!!!!” they said in unison, and I thought, I can’t believe this. They think they’re Seal Team Six… Seal Team Lancasters?
That was the point at which I began to become quite alarmed. Gary was driving us through tall grass and reeds that came up well over the windshield. We were going through a swamp. Even with GPS and night vision goggles, I had no idea how Gary could possibly know where he was going, and as it turned out, he didn’t. Suddenly we were falling, and my stomach dropped out, and I thought, well, that wasn’t worth dying for, but it only lasted a second and then we landed hard and the Toyota ground to a halt. As if he had been expecting it, Gary shut off the ignition and whispered, “We’re here.”
I was busy trying not to vomit in the back seat, with the steak and raspberry danish competing for space halfway up my esophagus, and I had that vertigo that comes with stepping off the Tilt-a-whirl. I think it’s fair to say that, when they both jumped out of the car and Gary threw a grappling hook over the wall, I was in a state of shock.
“Stay here and be ready for anything,” Angela said, “And keep the radio on.” She thrust a handheld walkie-talkie at me, and I took it. She put on a small dark backpack, went out the passenger door and pushed through the high reeds to reach the wall where Gary was struggling. He kept tossing the grappling hook at the wall which looked to be about fifteen feet high and made of cement. It had a smooth face with no real handholds, and I couldn’t imagine how they thought they were going to get over it. I almost laughed because I just pictured us sitting there for an hour while Gary kept tossing the hook again and again. And then it caught on something, he hung on it to check that it would hold, and then pulled himself up the rope with apparent ease.
I got out of the car and ran through the brush, until I reached Angela, who was at the base of the wall, waiting for Gary to get over the top. Watching him from below, I was amazed at how muscled his arms were—I hadn’t noticed earlier—and despite his extra weight he pulled himself over a fifteen-foot wall without any hesitation.
“Angela!” I whispered, “What are you guys doing? This is illegal! What if we get caught? What are you planning to do, exactly? You didn’t mention any of this over that nice steak dinner!”
“I’m sorry,” she said, “I know you don’t believe me, but I’m telling you, the MCP is behind these murders, and I’m sure they’ve got people in there who are being held against their will. This place is bad, Stephen. You’re about to see for yourself. They killed my patient in the ICU and then your patient in the ER and clearly the police aren’t going to do anything about it. They’re not even letting the press know about it! The MCP probably has the police in their pocket, that’s the point. We can’t trust anyone. I only trust you because you’re new to town. The MCP has infiltrated my world, and one way or another, it’s got to stop. So, if the police won’t do anything about it, I will.” And with that, she scampered up the rope. It had knots tied in it to help, but I was still very impressed with her and her husband’s strength. I was left standing at the base of the wall scratching me he
ad. I’m not sure I could have gotten up the rope even if I had wanted to. I went back to the car.
A lot of things went through my mind as I waited in the back seat. Does Gary have an escape route planned? Am I going to have a criminal record after tonight? Am I going to lose my job? How did Gary pull himself up that rope? What exactly do they have planned—some kind of jailbreak? Would they be returning with ‘escaped prisoners’? What, exactly, did they put in those delicious danishes?
I sat in the Land Cruiser for the next hour. It must have been at least that long because the adrenaline had worn off and I was getting bored. Then I had to relieve myself because I had drunk quite a lot of coffee. While I was urinating into a bush, I heard a noise from the walkie-talkie and then saw Angela coming down the rope. There were no alarms going off, no searchlights systematically combing the grounds, no guards rushing at us from every direction. There was one thing that did fit the stereotypical jailbreak scene, though.
Dogs. I could hear dogs barking. Lots of them.
Chapter 6
The dogs weren’t so much barking as howling… or making some kind of noise that reminded me of every horror movie I’ve ever watched. I was still standing outside of the Land Cruiser, zipping up my fly. Suddenly I was no longer bored. I looked around, waiting to see headlights coming at me, or blue and red police lights. There was nothing. Just really, really tall grass. And the cacophony of a hungry pack of carnivorous animals.
Angela and Gary came down the rope in what seemed like a second or two, and then we were all standing at the base of the wall and an alarm started blaring. It sounded like a car alarm and my first instinct was to look at the Land Cruiser. But of course, it was coming from inside the wall. Without a word, we all ran to the car. They left the rope where it was. I noticed Gary was limping. I hopped in the back.
“What happened?” I asked frantically as they got in, and Gary got behind the wheel. They ignored me.
“Can you still drive?” Angela asked her husband.
“I think so,” he said. And then he started the car up, slammed it in reverse, and once again I was getting tossed around the backseat like there was an earthquake. I hadn’t even had time to buckle up, so I let myself fall onto the floor and I tried to wedge myself in as best I could. I could tell we were moving fast—a lot faster than when we had come in. I prayed Gary had put his night vision goggles back on. I stayed like that for what seemed like an hour but was probably ten minutes, and I was getting bruised and battered when finally, we stopped. I heard Angela get out of the vehicle. I poked my head up wondering what was happening and then she was already jumping back into the passenger seat.
“Go go go!” she said, and we did, and I felt the smooth transition to a paved road, and I thought, Thank God for asphalt. I slowly climbed off the floor and buckled myself into the back seat. I was going to be sore in the morning.
“What happened?” I asked again.
“Gary got bit,” Angela said.
“What?” I asked, alarmed.
“I’m OK,” he said, “I hadn’t counted on there being dogs.”
“Those were NOT dogs,” Angela said.
“Check the footage,” Gary said.
“Not now,” she replied, “If we get pulled over, I don’t want to make it easy for them.” And then she stuffed her backpack under the seat and began stripping off her cat burglar outfit.
“There isn’t much to tell,” Gary said, “We dropped over the wall behind some kind of dormitory or apartment building. It didn’t have any windows. We couldn’t see much, so we skirted the building until we came to the edge of it and then we could hear people nearby. We froze there for quite a while. I think we stayed there for about forty-five minutes. We could hear them but couldn’t tell what they were saying or where it was coming from. I think we must have been hearing people out on their porch or deck, but we couldn’t see them because we were behind the building and they were in front. Anyhow, we waited and finally it sounded like they were gone. We didn’t hear anything. After a while we decided to move. There was another building about twenty feet away and we dashed for it. We kept close to the walls, but someone saw us. We heard them yelling as soon as we ran for the other building. It was hard to believe, but we sat there for 45 minutes and then when we finally moved, they spotted us immediately.”
“So…” I said, “What did you do next?”
“They were screaming at us,” Angela said, “There was a woman who was panicked, I mean high pitched wailing, you would think they were being invaded by aliens, she must have woken up everyone for miles around. We ran back to the rope and climbed over. But not before they unleashed those animals on us. One of them bit Gary. And they were NOT dogs!”
“Let’s just hope you got them on video,” said Gary.
“Honey,” she said, “It was dark. I don’t think we’re going to see much.”
“Anyway, I was jumping back over the wall when one of their dogs bit me. Whatever they are, I’m pretty sure they’ve been bred to kill. It clamped down on my calf. It only let go because I kicked it hard right before I went over the wall.”
“We’ve got to wash out the wound and start you on Augmentin,” Angela said, “And maybe you should get a rabies series just to be safe. Don’t you think, Stephen?”
I said that I agreed that Gary should get a series of rabies immunizations and an immunoglobulin shot injected into the margins of the wound. I also pointed out that, if he showed up in the Hawk Claw Emergency Department with an unexplained bite wound requiring rabies shots, they were going to ask questions. And it was a small town.
“He’s right,” Angela said, “You’re going to have to go to Denver.”
“Denver?!?!” Gary bellowed, “Are you serious?”
“We’ll go tomorrow,” Angela said, “We’ll tell them you were bit by a stray.”
“Think of it this way,” I said, “If you get rabies, you won’t care how long the trip to Denver takes.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Honey,” Angela said, “If you get rabies, you’re dead. That’s why you have to have the shots—before the rabies can set in.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if they were rabid,” he said, “They weren’t normal dogs… I don’t know what was wrong with them, but they weren’t normal. There was something about them… they were…”
“Demonic,” said Angela, “They were demonic. Because they weren’t dogs. They were demons.”
I thought she was being a bit dramatic. I mean, I didn’t know Gary or Angela very well and I had not seen any ‘demon dogs’ or anything other than a large wall and two cat burglars who had duped me into being an accomplice. So, at the time, I was mainly thinking that I just wanted to go home.
We went back to Tumbledown Ranch. We had a bit of a ‘debriefing’ session, which consisted of Gary opening up three beers—he was one of those IPA fans who can’t get enough hops no matter how much acid reflux it causes—and we sat around watching the video that Angela had made. She had an iPhone chest mount that allowed her to wear the phone on her torso, so it filmed whatever was in front of her. It was part of her cat burglar outfit. There was no light source, since this was a ‘stealth mission,’ so we watched approximately one hour of darkness. There were a few salvageable moments—and after viewing the footage and fast forwarding the dark parts, we found a few frames—literally a few seconds worth—where the ‘demon dogs’ could be seen. Which was saying something. Because that’s what they seemed to be. I have no idea how to describe them. They had wolf features—their ears and snouts made me think of wolves. But the body was thick, like a pit bull. The tail was long and curled up at the end, and they had large footpads with claws of monstrous, almost comical proportions. I could see a mouth full of teeth that spelled death for anything that couldn’t run fast enough. We slowed the play back and I remember thinking, Seal Team Lancaster is lucky to be alive.
“What is THAT?” Angela said, with her usual dramatic flair, whi
le pointing at the paused image of the hybrid wolf-dog that had attacked her husband. I had no response. We played the few seconds of footage over and over, in slow motion, forwards, backwards, with and without sound. We Googled anything we could think of. We did a ‘screen grab’ and a Google image search. We searched terms which might be relevant—wolf hybrid. Dog wolf coyote hybrid. Pit bull wolf hybrid. And so on… none of it did anything to clarify what we were looking at.
I washed out Gary’s wound in the tub by running water over it for five minutes with soap to wash the wound. I rinsed it out thoroughly, patted it dry, and then used betadine to cleanse the skin around the wound. Lastly, I applied bacitracin ointment and a nonstick sterile dressing wrapped in a bandage. I explained to him that he needed to be on the lookout for redness and swelling and pain and pus and fever. It was a sizeable gash, but it was superficial—at least, there may have been some deeper puncture wounds made by the teeth, but the laceration itself didn’t cut too deep. So, he would be fine as long as he kept it clean. I explained to him that it was a bad idea to sew it up because his chance of infection would skyrocket.
“Don’t worry Gary,” I said, “You’ll heal up fine without stitches. Our bodies heal without any help in most cases—you don’t have diabetes, or any other health problems?”
“I have a gluten allergy,” he said.
“It’s an intolerance!” Angela yelled from the other room.
It was getting late. I yawned. It was approaching five a.m. now. I could fall asleep very easily now. “I think I’m done,” I said, “I’ve got to go home. I’m exhausted. I need to try to flip back to a regular sleep schedule, I’m going to set an alarm for noon.”
“Don’t do it!” Angela said, sticking her head in the room. She had been in the kitchen cooking up an omelet. “Stay in the night world, you’ll love it down here!”
The Armageddon Prophecy Page 5