by Alex Siegel
"No. Let her sleep in. I got to go." He hurried off.
* * *
A small, white jet landed at the Lafayette Regional Airport in Lafayette, Louisiana. Stony looked out the window and saw a bigger airport than he had expected. It had a real terminal with three jetways. One of the runways was long and wide enough for commercial jets.
His plane rolled past the public terminal and went straight to a hangar off to the side. By the time the plane came to a stop, he was waiting at the hatch with his suitcase in hand.
Stony and Mia disembarked. Stepping out into the warm, humid air was like walking into a steam bath. He wanted to take off the jacket of his standard, blue business suit immediately. He smelled the surrounding swampland. He didn't understand why anybody would choose to live in such a muggy environment.
A blue sedan was waiting for them, and its driver was standing beside the car.
Stony and Mia put their luggage in the trunk and sat in the car. She took the back seat, and he rode shotgun.
As the car pulled away, Stony checked out the driver. He was a young man wearing a white shirt and blue slacks. He hadn't bothered with a jacket, which meant Stony could see the sweat stains in his arm pits.
The driver glanced at Stony. "The director told us you were some kind of specialists."
Stony shrugged. "I'm just another pair of eyes. Nothing special."
The driver's face became pale, and he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He stared straight ahead. "I've heard your voice on the radio on a previous mission. You're Stony." He swallowed. "The woman must be Miasma."
"You got me. Don't make a big deal about it. I'm just here to look around."
The driver licked his lips. "I heard you killed over a thousand people."
"That's a wild exaggeration," Stony said.
"Then how many?"
Stony paused. "Since joining the PEA?"
"In general," the driver said, "over your whole life."
Stony leaned back in his seat. He didn't like to think about the dark years when he had served a demon. Every memory featured blood.
"I have no idea," he said, "but the number certainly isn't anywhere near a thousand. Maybe one or two hundred... or three."
"Miasma," the driver said, "I heard you once broke every bone in a man's body just because he groped you."
"It was more than a grope," Mia said angrily. "It was practically sexual assault, and I just broke the bigger bones, not every bone. The guy was a total creep anyway. No more talking. Just drive. When we get there, don't tell anybody who we are. We're trying to keep a low profile. Got it?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Stony looked out the window.
The car had already passed through the small town of Lafayette. They were driving on a two-lane country highway now. Dense forest blocked the view on both sides of the road. The trees were so close together, a man would have trouble squeezing through. A solid layer of gray clouds covered the sky.
The ride to Breaux Bridge took just twenty minutes, and there wasn't much to see when they got there. The village had just one main street a few blocks long. Stony saw a Cajun gift shop, an antiques store, a restaurant specializing in crawfish, a burger joint, and a coffee shop. Everything was weathered and rusty. A sign advertised the place as the "Crawfish Capital of the World."
The driver continued onwards to the outskirts of Breaux Bridge. The car passed fields of sugar cane and rice. The small homes had plenty of space in between.
They finally turned onto a narrow, winding driveway which cut through the forest. The car was almost too wide for the driveway. After taking a couple of turns, the driver finally parked the car in front of a white farmhouse.
"This will be a problem," Mia said.
Stony nodded in agreement.
Police cars, unmarked sedans, and evidence vans filled the entire front yard. The biggest group of cars was marked, "St. Marin Parish Sheriff," but Breaux Bridge had a police car of its own. The FBI had representatives on the scene, and Stony suspected some of the unmarked sedans were also from the Bureau. He couldn't tell how many cars were from the PEA. Those vehicles were either unmarked or disguised as police squad cars. Regardless, he knew he would be dealing with a confusing mosaic of law enforcement personnel. He hoped he didn't screw up and say the wrong thing to the wrong person.
"Don't forget," Stony told the driver. "We are not weirdos with bizarre powers. We're just regular investigators."
The driver nodded. "Yes, sir."
Everybody got out, and Stony's shoes sank into the soft, moist dirt. He went straight into the house.
The interior had plain, wooden walls painted an unappealing yellow. The unfinished ceiling had exposed roofbeams. Years of hard use had worn the varnish off the floor, creating pathways of exposed, raw wood. Simple furniture had roughly shaped parts.
Stony already had his badge out. The design was intended to look like a generic badge for a federal agent, and it included a picture of him wearing a suit. The United States flag waved in the background. The words "Paranormal Enforcement Administration" didn't appear anywhere. At first glance, somebody might think he worked for the FBI or the Secret Service, and he wouldn't tell them they were wrong.
A group of police officers in the room didn't show any interest though. They had obviously seen too many badges already today. They were chatting about cars.
Stony walked straight through the house, looking for a dead body. He soon found one in the kitchen. He stepped carefully to avoid pools of dried blood on the floor.
A blood-stained sheet covered the body. He gently lifted the sheet and saw a woman in horrifying condition. Most of her clothes were torn off, along with chunks of flesh. Bite marks covered her entire body, forming uneven, bloody crescents. Flaps of skin had folded back to reveal the meat underneath. Her face was mostly gone, leaving her eyeballs fully exposed. Stony couldn't even count the number of bites, but there had to be hundreds. The dogs had continued to maul the woman well past her death.
Bloody pawprints confirmed dogs had committed the murder, and judging by the quantity of prints, many dogs had participated. The woman was near a sink. A drying rack held some clean dishes, and other dirty dishes were still in the sink. The victim was holding a knife, but the blade was clean. The dogs hadn't given her time to protect herself.
Stony discovered Mia standing behind him.
"The attack was rapid and organized," she said. "The dogs didn't act like a pack of wild animals. They came in here with a plan."
He nodded. "Let's keep looking."
They found another victim on the back porch, a man in blue coveralls. All the flesh on his back had been chewed off, revealing the bones beneath. His fat thighs and calves had suffered the worst damage though. Most of the muscle was gone, as if the dogs had eaten their fill. Just sinew and bones remained. The dogs had also attacked the man's abdomen, and a piece of intestine was hanging out.
"Maybe he heard a noise and came out to investigate," Stony said.
"Possibly," Mia said. "He doesn't have a gun though, so the noise couldn't have been too alarming."
A farmer's field was behind the house. Small green plants were growing in neat rows, but Stony didn't recognize them. Forest bordered the farm on all sides. He noticed police officers moving through the trees on the far side of the field.
"Let's see what's happening over there," he said.
He and Mia walked across the field, trying not to let too much mud get on their shoes. The ground was squishy.
When they entered the woods, he discovered chains attached to trees. Dog food bowls were on the ground, some flipped over, and dog shit was everywhere. Plastic drums, cut in half, contained filthy water. Clouds of flies filled the air, and Stony covered his mouth to keep them from flying in. The stink was nauseating.
He spoke to a female police officer with brown hair, "How many dogs were back here?"
She shrugged. "Hard to tell," she replied in a Cajun accent. "Fifty, at least
. Probably pit bulls. Those are most popular for fighting."
He walked over to Mia. She was staring at the woods with a puzzled expression.
"What's wrong?" Stony said.
"I'm imagining how it went down," she said. "The dog chains were unclipped, not cut. That took some time. Meanwhile, Orcus had to manage a whole bunch of half-starved dogs bred and trained to fight. He did it quietly, or the farmer would've heard a lot of barking and grabbed a gun."
"Orcus was obviously in complete control. He ordered the dogs to behave and stay calm."
"Until he commanded them to kill the family."
"Yes," he said. "Now he has a small army of killer animals at his disposal."
"And there are two other farms like this one. That's a lot of dogs."
He grunted angrily. "There will be more attacks."
Stony and Mia walked back to the house and went inside. They continued to explore the rustic home.
It had two bedrooms, and the master bedroom was small. It barely had enough room for a queen-size bed, two dressers, and a free-standing wardrobe. Stony didn't see a closet at all.
The second bedroom was even smaller. It contained two beds made for children, and toys were scattered across the floor. An evidence technician was in the room taking pictures.
"Where are the kids?" Stony said. "Were their bodies found?"
"They're missing," the technician replied. "A nine-year-old boy and a seven-year-old girl."
Stony and Mia exchanged alarmed glances. Orcus needed to appease his demon master, Forneus. The children would likely suffer slow, agonizing deaths.
Stony looked for clues, but nothing jumped out as helpful. The toys on the floor were cheaply made and in poor condition. The family obviously couldn't afford better. A dresser contained girl's clothes which were faded and threadbare. Stony found the boy's clothes shoved under a bed.
"See anything?" Stony said.
Mia shook her head. "Times like this make me wish I had proper training as an investigator, that I could pick out the subtlest clues. Rathanael wanted us here, but I'm starting to wonder why. What can we contribute?"
"It's OK. We're a different kind of specialist. We'll find a way to contribute."
The agent who had driven them to the farm poked his head into the room. "Oh, there you are," he said. "The local supervisor wants to talk to you."
Stony and Mia followed the driver outside. They walked around to the side of the house, where technicians were making plaster casts of footprints in the dirt. A black woman in a blue suit was observing from a few paces away. Her short, evenly trimmed hair gave her a boyish appearance.
"This is them, ma'am," the driver said.
Stony approached the black woman. "PEA?" he said quietly.
She nodded. "I'm Agent Gritz, supervisory agent for the southeast territory. I'll be frank. I'm a little confused about who you are. The director just told me he was sending a couple of consultants."
"Well," Stony said, "it's like this...."
"Wait, I've seen your face before. It was dark." Gritz's eyes widened. "Oh, God." She looked at Mia. "What the hell are you two doing here?" Gritz took a fearful step back.
"Calm down," Mia said. "We're just helping out."
"When you 'help out,' body bags get filled and huge messes get made."
"Relax. The director just wants our opinion about what happened here."
Gritz swallowed. "And what is your opinion?"
"The evidence points to Orcus being responsible, but we don't know the whole story. What was the timeframe of the attack? What else can you tell us?"
Gritz stared at Stony and Mia as if they were ticking bombs about to explode. Stony sighed with impatience. He didn't believe he deserved a reputation as a crazed killer with a very short fuse. He was a good citizen these days, or he tried to be. Rathanael trusted him at least.
Gritz finally pulled herself together. "We believe the attack occurred around nine PM, sir," she said. "We found two sets of suspicious footprints."
"Orcus and his slave, Pomona," Stony said.
"How did he control the dogs?"
"He has power over animals. Two other farms were hit. What's the total number of dogs taken?"
"Our best guess is a hundred and sixty," she said.
Stony and Mia exchanged worried glances.
"We can expect those dogs to show up again at the worst possible time," he said. "Orcus must be planning something big to need so many."
Gritz had a thoughtful expression. "Transporting that many animals is a logistical nightmare. We should be looking for a big truck."
"That's a good idea, and suspiciously large purchases of dog food. Orcus won't let his pets starve. He loves animals. Is there anything else we should know?"
She shook her head. "I don't think so. The evidence hasn't been helpful. Orcus got in and out of here like a ghost. No fingerprints. No broken windows. We were lucky to find footprints."
"OK," Stony said, "let us know if anything new comes up."
He and Mia walked off.
"What now?" she said.
"Let's call the director and make our report," he said.
They moved away from the house to a quiet spot among the trees. Stony took out his phone and discovered he had only two bars. He hoped that would be enough. He dialed the direct number for Director Robertson.
"Yes?" the director said.
Stony reported what he had seen, and Mia added details.
"At least we know we're on the right track," Robertson said. "Orcus is operating in Louisiana."
"As of last night," Stony said. "He could already be in another state by now."
"Let's hope that's not the case and all those dogs slow him down. I have another lead for you to investigate. Diana finally produced some useful information this morning: Orcus's real name. She remembered him using it during a conversation with an old friend. According to her, he is really Edmund Toppan. We've already identified his family, employment history, and other background information. We're pretty sure he's the right guy based on his psychological profile. He left home twenty years ago, and the paper trail ends shortly after that. Toppan stopped existing as far as the world is concerned."
"Has anybody approached the family?"
"Not yet," Robertson said.
"The parents might know something useful, even if it's just motivation."
"Correct. I want you and Mia to fly to Tallahassee, Florida so you can participate in the interviews. Ask the questions that need to be asked."
"But that will take us away from Orcus," Stony said.
"Tallahassee isn't that far away. We'll get you back in a hurry if necessary."
"We can't keep hiding our identity from other PEA agents. You have to let them know we're coming. Otherwise, it's a rude shock when they figure it out."
"That's fair," Robertson said. "I'll put the word out."
"We'll go back to the Lafayette airport immediately. Make sure the plane is waiting for us."
"It will be."
Chapter Eight
Stony and Mia stepped out of an airplane in Tallahassee. He was disappointed when he discovered the air was just as warm and sticky as in Louisiana. They carried their luggage down a short flight of stairs.
A man and a woman were waiting on the asphalt apron. The man was in his twenties and wearing a standard blue suit. His short, red hair was perfectly even. His pale face was so smooth and clean, Stony guessed the man had shaved just for this meeting. He stood at attention with his eyes forward and his hands at his sides.
The woman wore a casual green dress with a flower print pattern, and she probably wasn't a federal agent. Loose, stringy, brown hair hung past her shoulders. She wore a pearl necklace and matching pearl earrings.
"Hello," Stony said. "Who are you?"
"Agent Wilson!" the man said. "It is an honor to meet you, sir!"
Stony smirked. "At ease. Settle down. No need to yell."
Wilson refused to meet Stony's gaz
e. The young man just stared ahead with his lips quivering slightly.
He's terrified of me, Stony thought.
The woman was much more relaxed as she shook his hand. "I'm Dr. Rombone, criminal psychologist. Your agency often uses me as a consultant, but I'm a civilian. Agent Wilson seems to think you're horrible monsters. You look normal enough to me."
She shook Mia's hand.
"Horrible monsters is an exaggeration," Stony said, "but Miasma and I do have a violent reputation. My name is Stony, by the way."
"Strange names," Rombone said.
"They're more like code names. Do you have a car? We can talk on the road."
The four of them walked to the airport parking lot. They sat in an unmarked green sedan with Wilson driving and Stony riding shotgun. Wilson hadn't spoken a word since introducing himself. He started the car and drove off.
"What are we dealing with?" Rombone said. "My briefing was very brief."
"A serial killer and Satanist who calls himself Orcus," Stony said. "He kidnaps and sacrifices children."
"Ugh."
"His real name is Edmund Toppan. Who are we seeing first?"
"His parents," Wilson said in a tense voice. "I have the address."
"What else do we know about the subject?" Rombone said.
She wasn't an agent, so Stony couldn't tell her about the animal magic or Forneus. Those details were classified. He had to stick with mundane facts.
"He had three slave-women originally," he said. "One was killed and one was caught. The third is still at large with him."
Rombone made a sour face. "This guy is a real piece of work. What happened in Louisiana?"
He told her about the massacres at the farms, but he left out details that might cause her to ask awkward questions.
"Orcus loves animals," Mia added. "He kept hundreds in his home."
"That's interesting," Rombone said. "Perhaps some trauma in his childhood forced him to choose animals over people. The conversation with his parents should be informative."
Stony looked over at Wilson. The young agent had a very tight grip on the steering wheel, and he was clenching his jaw.
"I won't bite you," Stony said. "You can relax."