by Jeff D Ellis
“I’m not sure until I get the results back, but my guess is his body is fighting and losing a battle against whatever this is. There is not much I can do other than monitor the situation. If I had samples from a Windigo, I might be able to come up with something to help.”
“Understood. Can I go back to my desk now?”
“I was serious about you having an exam as well. I can’t pass up getting baseline information data from you. You’re getting the full physical and labs now.”
The physical took about thirty minutes. “We’re all done now. Watch over David and let me know if anything changes. I’ll call as soon as I find anything out from the lab results.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
***
The Chief was livid. “David, you need to be more careful. We can’t have you turning into a Windigo!”
“I’m fine, Chief. I’m not developing a hunger for eating people.”
The Chief took a deep breath. “We’re analyzing blood samples from the Windigo, the victim it was eating, and your cut. We don’t know what we’re looking for, or if there is anything we can do to help. I don’t think you’ll be infected, but I do think something is wrong. It seems like the damage to the body matches other victims that were recently found. I think you found the killer. Abby, work with Jeff on better weapons that will work from a distance. Next time, it could be someone with no immunity that gets infected and we can’t have that. David, you’re on desk duty until somebody clears you.”
David nodded. “I understand. I’ll deal with it.”
Abby cleared her throat. “I agree. I hate not being able to hurt a monster, and I sure don’t want to be close enough to get infected. I’ll go talk to Jeff and see what we can come up with.”
David went and sat at his desk while Abby went to Jeff’s lab.
“Hi, Jeff! The Chief sent me down to work with you on better weapons.”
“Come on in, Abby. Please take a seat. Tell me what you need?”
Abby sat in Jeff’s guest chair. “Today we faced a Windigo, which can infect people through biting or maybe other attacks. So next time, I can’t just rush in with a blade to kill it.”
“How can they be hurt?”
“The People consider a Windigo to be an ice creature, and it’s said it takes fire to kill them. Not many of the tribes have actually seen or killed one.”
“Since going around Seattle with a flame thrower is out of the question, what if I supplied you with tracer ammo? The bullets ignite and burn when fired. Don’t expect a creature to catch fire from being shot with this stuff, but it might cause damage that normal bullets can’t do. You think that would help?”
“If it hurts its regeneration, getting enough hits from burning bullets might put it down. Not sure that it would work with other types of creatures though.”
“Let me look into it. I know I can get military surplus 5.56 ammo easy enough as tracers, but I think I need to pair it with the correct twist rate in the barrel. I’ve seen pistol ammo in tracer versions, but don’t know of any military or law enforcement use. I don’t know how good they would be. Also, some modern tracers are cold burning so they don’t start fires, which I wouldn’t think would be useful. It seems like you need a high capacity magazine to supply you with enough ammo to disrupt the monster’s system. It can’t be too big of a rush since you killed the only Windigo we’ve ever heard of.”
“Thanks, Jeff! Let me know what options you come up with.”
Abby went back to her desk and found David sitting at his. “How are you feeling?”
“Still the same as before. I’m fine.”
“Are you back to healing normally?”
“No, but I feel fine. You don’t have to keep checking on me.” There was a low growl in his voice.
“You want to head over to Grandfather’s?”
“I told you, I’m fine. We don’t need go.”
“The Chief said you need to get checked out by Grandfather.”
“He said I should talk to Grandfather or Jaguar.”
“Did you?”
“Not yet.”
“Then we need to check with Grandfather. I’m not going to taking no for an answer. Let’s go.”
***
Grandfather was the tribe’s Shaman and Abby’s teacher. Someday, Abby hoped to carry on his work. It was a quiet drive to Grandfather’s house in Snoqualmie. David was withdrawn and distant. She wanted to help him, but it felt like she was being pushed away. She had never experienced this from David before. He was always so open to her and their connection ran deep. Part of that connection was the ability to talk to each other with their minds. That was more like talking with a little flavor of what the person was feeling, but it didn’t let her read his feelings. It wasn’t an empathic connection.
They headed east down I-90 and got off on North Bend Way. After passing the Snoqualmie Casino, they turned off into a rural area. After a few more turns, they turned up the drive at a small house. Abby parked her SUV out front.
As they walked up to the door, Grandfather opened it. “Come in. I was expecting you. I wish it was for happier reasons.”
They walked into his small house and there were two guest chairs next to his fireplace. Normally there was only one chair. The fireplace had a nice fire going, and since Grandfather lived in a house without central heating, a wood stove was used to keep it warm.
“Please take a seat here by the fireplace. I know you are troubled.”
Abby took the lead and told Grandfather about the fight. Grandfather nodded solemnly.
“Yes, it is so. You have battled a Windigo and won, with a price. Please let me see the wound.”
David removed the bandages. The cut was clean and didn’t look infected, but it also hadn’t yet closed up. Grandfather gave it a close look and left the room. He came back with a small bowl with some kind of paste. He applied it to the cut and wrapped it up again with clean bandages. “Yes, it is so. I can see why you were unable to heal. Medicine should help.”
Abby looked at the poultice. She would have to find out later what he had put in it. “Grandfather, will David become a Windigo?”
“He will not. The poison is in his body and he is fighting it, but he will be diminished.”
David’s face was getting red. “I’m right here. Diminished how, and for how long?”
Grandfather pointed at David. “You must fight it. The worst is yet to come, so be strong and win.”
“Is there anything I can do to help David?”
“His fight. He must win. I have done all I can. Yes, it is so.”
Abby stood. “David, we should go. Thank you, Grandfather.”
David stood and nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”
Abby left a little pouch of tobacco on the table by the door as they left. David didn’t look too good when they got back in the car.
“David, don’t worry. Whatever happens, we will face it together. You have to be strong. Maybe Jaguar will have less cryptic advice on how you can fight the poison.”
“Take me home.”
***
David and Abby lived in a nice house built in the 1980s in Issaquah near one of the trailheads to Cougar Mountain Park. He had inherited it from his adopted parents when they died. It was in a quiet neighborhood. The trails were great to hike or run on as a Coyote.
On entering, David sat in the living room in his favorite chair while Abby headed to the third bedroom that they shared as a home office. It was unusually quiet. It was as if everybody was giving him some space or was scared of him or for him. Normally it was a bit chaotic with their housekeeper Flower and Ember flying around. He figured Flower already knew about his problem, and all of the Dogwood People would as well. He didn’t understand what the big deal was. So, he had a scratch. Yes, his healing should have taken care of it, but he had been hurt much worse before he had become a Shapeshifter.
He did feel a bit weak and warm as if he was fighting off the flu. He tried to put Grandfa
ther’s words out of his mind.
Jaguar was his spirit guide. David took a deep breath and called Jaguar. Nothing happened. David pulled out his Were-jaguar amulet. He settled his breathing and focused on the amulet. It took several minutes but finally things changed, and he was standing in the middle of a forest. Jaguar was sitting a few feet away.
“Hello, David.”
“Jaguar, I need your help. I fought a Windigo and was injured.”
“I’m sorry to say you have a fight for your life ahead of you. Your body is already fighting it.”
“Is there nothing I can do?”
“You need to rest and save your energy for this.”
“Rest? I can’t just sit back and do nothing. What’s happening to me?”
“One by one, you’ll lose your magical abilities, and then your human abilities. If you lose this fight, you will die.”
“How long do I have?”
“It’s already started. I can’t see how long each stage will be. The first to go will be your ability to connect to the astral plane to talk to me. You already found it harder than normal to make the connection.”
“If I live, I will get my abilities back?”
“Probably, but you should be prepared for the worst.”
“You’re saying I need to make sure my will is in order?”
“While that is possible, the odds of survival are good. It is more likely you will lose your abilities.”
“If I have kids, will they get my abilities?”
“If you gain your abilities back then yes, your offspring will have the normal chances for inheriting your abilities.”
“Is there nothing that can be done to help? What about medical procedures? If it’s in the blood, what about a transfusion?”
“Changing your blood will not help. Focus your strength on healing.”
David was back in his own body, sitting in his chair. “Well, that sucks.”
If he hadn’t taken longer to talk to Jaguar, he might have been able to ignore his problem. Now he believed it wasn’t only his healing and it would impact all of his abilities over time. The last thing he wanted to do was lay in bed and wait for death. He refused to give up on his job until he couldn’t do it anymore. What would he tell Abby or the Chief? He imagined the looks of pity on their faces and he couldn’t stand anyone’s pity. He had to tell them something. To say nothing would put everybody in danger.
At least he wouldn’t turn into a Windigo. Going from protecting people to eating them would be worse than death. It would be hard to face Abby. He knew she would love him no matter what, but he couldn’t marry her until after this ran its course.
“Abby!”
Abby quickly came into the room and sat. “How did things go? Can Jaguar help you?”
“I have bad news.” He told her what Jaguar had said.
Abby grabbed his hand. “It’s all right. I’m here for you. I know you can beat this illness. Remember you risked everything to bring me back to my body. You have what it takes. A wraith couldn’t kill you1. Some poison isn’t going to do it.”
“But I might lose all of my abilities!”
She kissed his hand. “I loved you when you were just a human game developer. I will love you no matter what! And I still expect you to marry me! This illness will not come between us. We will fight it together. Why don’t I call the office and say you’ll be out on sick leave?”
“Abby, I want to work the job as long as I’m able.”
“But you need to save your strength.”
He clenched his jaw tightly. “This scratch isn’t going to take my life away from me. That’s final. I’ll keep doing the job until I can’t.”
“All right, but you have to convince the Chief.”
David had a feeling this would get much worse before it got better.
CHAPTER FOUR
Politics Changes Everything
IT WAS A cold dark morning when Detective Frank Hammer got the call. The sun wouldn’t come up until about eight and would be gone again by four. Winters in Seattle can really get people down. He parked behind the patrol car and found the officer securing the scene.
“Hey, Murphy. Just you today?”
“Morning, Hammer. The brass said they wanted to keep this low-profile. I was told to stand guard and only let you go down there. Not even to put up police tape or anything. Head downstairs. The witness is waiting for you.”
Hammer nodded and headed down. He hated what the city called the accessways. Most called it the Underground and it was creepy as hell. Between the thoughts of the plague and the ghosts, he really didn’t want to be here. Hammer opened the door at the bottom of the stairs and shivered in the blast of stale cold air. A man was waiting in the dim light provided by the few electric lights spaced out in the Underground.
The man’s face was ashen. “You must be the Detective. The body is just past that archway down there.”
“You’re not coming with me?”
“Hell no! I don’t know if I’ll ever get that sight out of my mind. When we’re done here, I’m quitting my job. No way I’m ever coming back. This is a new tour area and they did a ghost tour here last night.”
“A ghost tour?”
“We give people equipment for paranormal research like you see on the ghost hunter TV shows and let them roam around at night an area of the Underground. It's not as supervised as our normal tours, so sometimes trash can get left behind. I haven’t seen this area before. I came down before my first tour to give it a look-see and make sure things were okay.” The man wiped his mouth.
“Go on.”
“I had just started my inspection when I ran across the body. You can go see for yourself. Like I said, it’s just past that archway. I really want to go now. The officer has my information. No one has been down here since I made the 911 call.”
The guide looked really pale.
“That’s fine. I’ll take it from here. I’ll contact you if I need any more information.”
“Please don’t. I don’t want to ever think about this again.”
Hammer watched as the man rushed up the stairs like he was being chased. He didn’t even get his name. He made a note to get it from Murphy on his way back out.
Hammer took a moment to look around before going farther in. He pulled his Surefire P1R Peacekeeper flashlight from his jacket pocket and almost blinded himself. He quickly put it on the low setting. The light showed dust hanging in the air where the beam of light penetrated. A heavy layer of dust was everywhere, but the light revealed a walking path. He wondered if the floor was normally swept. That was something to ask the tour office. Hammer slowly walked down the passage and through the archway. As his light shone on the body, he shivered again.
Hammer swallowed his feelings, trying to stay detached from the grotesque image.
In the center of the room was City Councilwoman Cora Prescott. At least, what was left of her. Her body was laid out as if on a table in the morgue with an autopsy in progress. She was naked with a Y cut on her chest as if the medical examiner was about to remove her internal organs. Her arms were severed from her shoulders and stripped to the bones above the wrists. They were placed next to her as if still attached. Her legs were done in a similar way with everything above the ankles removed.
He was forced to look away to take a deep breath. The stale air assaulted his nose. But then he realized there should be the smell of death. He took a more detached look without getting any closer. There was no blood. She was killed elsewhere and put on display in order to be found like this.
He knelt down to give his flashlight a different angle. The floor and body seemed to be mostly free from dust. She couldn’t have been here very long.
No footprints were left around the body. It should be safe to move closer and take pictures. After pulling a camera from his jacket, he carefully moved around the body taking pictures. The SPD CSI’s would take better pictures, but at least he would have his for now. It was strange that th
ere wasn’t a CSI detective here with him. Normally Homicide and CSI detectives were teamed up to handle something like this.
Hammer pulled out his phone to call the Captain, but there was no signal underground here. A radio might work, but his report couldn’t go out over the air. The room had an exit on the other side leading into the dark. He moved to look down with his light, but he couldn’t tell where the passage might go.
This really sucked. Why wasn’t a team here to preserve the crime scene? The last thing he needed was for someone to sneak in and mess with things. He had no choice; he needed to get some direction from the Captain. He headed up to the street.
“Murphy, no one goes down there without my okay, I’ll be right back.”
Detective Hammer got into his car and called his Captain’s cell phone.
“Detective, be careful what you say next. Is this the political nightmare I expected?”
“It looks that way. Is that why I’m here alone? Where is CSI?”
“When the call came in, it went straight up to the Chief and then back down to me. She wanted to get our professional opinion without any leaks to the press. Until I hear from you, no one else is to see the scene.”
“This is bad. We have a city official killed in a gruesome way. What do you want? I need help to secure the scene and CSI.”
“Was the body missing flesh and cut open?”
“This isn’t the first time?”
“We need to go outside on this one.”
“You think someone in SPD is involved?”
“No, but this is too sensitive and politically charged.”
“We’ve handled political cases in the past. What’s the big deal?”
“If leaked, this would cause fear and panic in the city.”
“You’re going to call the FBI in on this?”
“No, I’m calling someone with the U.S. Marshals with a proven record of dealing with sensitive operations of this nature. Send the officer back to his patrol and sit on the body. Inform the witness it was an elaborate prank or something. Wait for the Marshals and work with them. Nothing goes on record. You will give them any support they need and work it as a joint investigation.”