Love Me or Kill Me (The Cable Denning Mystery Series Book 2)

by James P. Alsphert

  He thought carefully and then drew up a chair closer to my bed. “You see, Denning, these dreams—your insanity, that dark world your poor soul dwells within—these dreams are nothing more than that. You are insane. You are demented. You are a crazy man. You are so nuts that you have nightly dreams of people and things that never existed. There never was a Honey Combes, or a silly nightclub called Bella Notte or perhaps even a song called My Heart Stood Still. It’s rather like getting your dimensions mixed up. You cannot tell me what dimension you exist in anymore, can you? Dimension number one? Dimension number two? Or is there possibly a number three?”

  “Get me a 1929 phone book, Straight, and I’ll set you straight, pardon the pun. And another thing, Jane Slaughter and Cass better be okay or I’ll turn you inside out and grind you up myself.”

  “I’m sorry, we cannot provide you with any outside material that might negatively influence your dementia. During your drug-induced confessions, it is easy to see the pattern. Your sickness is expressed in traits such as sexual addiction, not to mention alcohol and tobacco. The fantasy of so many young and beautiful women lead me to observe how repressed and empty your early life must have been, battling for survival in the ghettos. The wretched misfits of this world such as yourself, are probably born a tad demented anyhow.”

  “No, Straight, do you wanna know what makes people like me crazy? It’s idiots like you pretending to be someone at the expense of—"

  Before I could finish my sentence, Jane Slaughter rushed in with a pipe and conked Straight on the noggin. “Gees, Cable, fuck! Let’s find Cass and get out of this place!”

  “Am I glad to see you!" I said, as I tried to get up. But I realized how dizzy the damned dormitine had made me. “Give me a hand, babe.”

  We left Straight on the floor out cold and made our way down a dark corridor. Jane led us to a flight of descending stairs and I held on to the railing as she helped us both down. As we reached the bottom I could smell the scent of the sea. “Where in the hell are we?” I asked.

  “Put your ear to the wall, Cable.” I did, and was astonished to hear the crashing of waves, and in the distance the sound of a ship’s horn blast.

  “A ship’s horn? Are we off shore—shanghaied from The Bucket of Blood?”

  “I don’t think so. I think it’s a fog horn and we’re underground near a lighthouse or something.”

  I chuckled. “Damn, you’re thinking like a private dick, kid,” I said, slapping her on the fanny.

  “As long as you don’t think with your dick we’ll be okay, Cable. I told you I might make a good female detective.” She looked around. “I was above you. I worked that piece of pipe loose and I clobbered that terrible man with it, then waited my time. I have a feeling they took Cass to a more secure, protected place.”

  “I’m surprised they haven’t shipped her off to Dad yet—or have they?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s follow my instinct first, okay?” We wound around a few cave-like passages until we came to a large red door. Above the transom were the letters Initus Mortis Domum. She whispered to me. “What does it mean, Cable—how’s your Latin?”

  I studied the words. I knew enough Latin root in Spanish and Italian when I grew up to at least decipher the intended meaning. “I think it’s something about death when you enter here or something like it. It ain’t an invitation to a family picnic, that I can tell you.”

  Jane snickered under her breath. “Damn, Cable, you’re just like me—cool under pressure with a sense of humor.”

  “Well, that’s to keep my knees from shaking,” I confessed.

  “Shall we?” She nodded and I turned the knob and the large metal door gave way. We could hear the crashing of the breakers and the roar of the sea much closer now. There was a barred window up ahead and we could hear seagulls shrieking in the distance. We approached an intersection with three doors. We instinctively headed for the center door. But before we could reach the handle, two goons came out from the door to the left and seized us. I was too weak to fight much, but Jane starting punching, kicking, biting and using her Kung Fu. Then one of the goons clunked her over the head with a sap and down she went. They dragged us through the door on the right and down some stairs into a huge cell that smelled of rotting flesh and seaweed.

  Just then a still woozy Straight entered with his Dr. Injector henchman. “Foolish—foolish…and this is even more evidence that your insanity is at its maximum—in fact, as maximum as you can get. For now, I will continue to drive you insane, in case you felt you were not yet indeed over the edge. The young woman will die for striking me—and you will watch.”

  They pulled Jane to the wall and chained her. They came back and shackled me to the bars near the entrance, so I was facing Jane. Then two men turned a crank in the wall and a door-sized portion of the wall lifted. Then Straight took out what seemed to be a whistle. But when he blew it I heard nothing. “Higher frequencies than the human ear can hear, Denning. But not so with Godfrey…he has many superhuman capacities.” Then there was a deep, horrible growl that echoed from the passageway behind the wall-door. Slowly it came closer and each nerve in me twitched with anticipation as the hair raised up on the back of my neck, like an ancient response to a danger so threatening as to freeze me where I stood. Jane’s eyes widened in terror as a human-like monster appeared at the transom. He was covered with seaweed from head to toe and must have stood about seven feet. “Godfrey is an experiment,” Straight announced from the other side of the bars. “Albeit, a failed one…we were trying for the perfect synthesis between land and sea creature. But Godfrey’s mind couldn’t take it and he went berserk. You see, Denning, Godfrey really is crazy.”

  Immediately I was thinking of Lexie and Zephyr. I was thinking how this same so-called “Order” without pity, compassion or sympathy, created a boy-dolphin with the mind of a human but the body of a fish. “You’re really the worst kind of sub-human, Straight, the scientific type who plays at being God. People like you are what’s wrong with the world—and who in the end wind up being a victim of their own stupidity. The crime is you—and you take so many with you on your way down.”

  “Entertaining, Denning. But really not true. We are God—those like me who dare to probe into the minds and bodies of things human—and otherwise.”

  I shouted at Straight. “You’re still a worthless piece of shit, no matter how you slice it, Straight—and in the end, even if you kill that poor innocent girl over there—or me, there’ll always be someone else who sees the true degenerate that you are, and who will step in to defend human kind from bastards like you!”

  “Human kind? Ha! ha! ha! Who cares about human kind, Denning? They are leeches, parasites on the planet, contributing nothing to the welfare of the earth. Do you think I care about human kind?” He laughed loudly. “If I did care, I could not stand by and witness two of my own kind getting ripped to shreds and eaten before my eyes, now, could I?”

  All the shouting seemed to rile up Godfrey. He put his nose to the air. I think he was sniffing out Jane. “I’m sorry, Jane…damn, I'm useless here to help. Thanks for trying to rescue me anyway.”

  Godfrey went into that low, forbidding growl as he eyed Jane and started towards her. “I started bleeding this morning, Cable—and I didn’t have anything—"

  “—I knew he was smelling something in your direction—maybe it’ll repel him—what do you think?”

  “I don’t think so—especially—especially if he’s—he’s mad—I mean nuts kind of mad.” Jane was brave as hell, but I could see her starting to break down.

  “Yeah. I get it.” I pulled at my shackles.

  The seaweed creature now towered above Jane. In a flash he ripped her blouse off along with her brassiere. I hadn’t noticed before, but Jane was very nicely endowed. What a hell of a time to think of that! Godfrey then tore her dress off, leaving only her panties, now stained with fresh blood from her menstruation. Almost gently, he peeled her panties off until they were at he
r ankles. Then he ripped them off her legs and brought them to what must have been his nostrils hidden behind all that seaweed. He growled again, put his head up high into the air and let out a roar. He started for Jane, she began to scream as the monster began to tilt back and forth stretching his arms out. Then he lunged for Jane. Suddenly I heard a gun report from behind me and Godfrey staggered. As the monster turned toward me and began to topple, another two shots were fired and all seven feet of him came crumpling to the ground. I looked around. The gun was still smoking in Straight’s hand.

  “One can only see so much…” Straight said with a low, resigned tone. “Perhaps…everyone has a ceasing point …besides…he was a failure…” Then he brightened up. “And I just remembered, I promised Gor I would not do in Miss Slaughter until I got orders to do so. And just think…now we may resume your ‘treatment’ for the cure of acute insanity. In the meantime, you were treated to a little nudity show, were you not? Miss Slaughter, minus the blood of course, has quite a comely woman’s body, wouldn’t you say, Denning?”

  I was still reeling from the shock of Straight shooting Godfrey. I was also suffering from the effects of the dormitine that had made my brain wobble. “Yeah, I guess, Straight. Look, give Jane some clothes and clean her up. That’s the least you can do.” I felt hopeless, despondent. “Then you can continue to work me over until I’m dead, Mister. Thirty-two used to be a ripe old age once upon a time, eh?”

  “I like that attitude, Denning. It shows resignation, surrender to your superiors.” Soon one of the goons returned with some clothes for Jane, entered the cell and covered her. Then they led her away. She glanced at me with tears in her eyes, too frightened to speak. “Don’t worry…Miss Slaughter, for the moment, will be kept safe—but this time under lock and key. No more surprises.”

  I watched as Straight put his revolver back into the side pocket of his coat. He had three bullets left after the three he had emptied into Godfrey. They unshackled me and we started up the stairs. There were four of us, myself out ahead of them, the goons walked directly behind me and Straight took up the rear. About half way up the stairs that orb which I remembered from old Rocco's house a day or two before, suddenly appeared above us and floated slowly in our direction. It began to emit a very bright light, almost blinding. I took advantage of the moment as I pushed the two goons down the stairs, thrust Straight against the wall with all the strength I had left in me, grabbed his gun and started firing at the goons below. I hit one, but missed the other. Now I had only one shot left. The remaining shooter got down on his knees and focused his gun up toward me. I fired at him and hit him in the chest. At the same time I yanked Straight over in front of me as a shield. Sure enough, the wounded idiot fired back and hit Straight square in the middle of his face as he yelled and went tumbling down the stairs. And that was that. The orb had dimmed and hovered at the top of the stairs, as if waiting for me. I clamored up the remaining stairs and went in search of the girls. It led me to the central door in the little corridor Jane and I first came to. “If that’s you, Saturnalia,” I said, talking to the orb, “thanks…I owe you one.” The swirling brass ball led me to a yellow door and hovered. I went in with my gun drawn, even though I had no remaining bullets. I found a half-naked Jane and a completely clothed Cass.

  “Cable!” Cass exclaimed upon seeing me. She ran up to me and kissed me hard on the mouth. “I thought you were—were—"

  “Hey, that’s supposed to be my kiss!” Jane crackled.

  I managed to unwind Cass’s arms from around my neck. “We’ve got to get out of here, ladies!” I said. “I’m a bit weak, but I dispatched Straight and his henchmen. I don’t know where Mr. Injector is, but let’s not wait around to find out.”

  “Thank you, Mother…I know she’s around. I can feel it.”

  “Yeah, I know. I already thanked her.” We ran out and kept running, until we found a door that looked like an exit. As soon as we opened that door we found a long ascending flight of stairs. We scampered up as fast as we could until finally we were out onto a short grassy meadow on a cliff overlooking the sea. A few hundred yards to the south stood the gleaming white tower of a lighthouse.

  “Piedras Blancas Lighthouse,” Jane said. “I visited it one day. It used to be gas-powered. Now it’s electric.”

  “How far are we from Cambria?” I asked.

  “About twenty miles or so,” Jane answered.

  “So now what are we going to do? I know for sure those terrible people wanted to take me back to my father,” Cass observed.

  “How about a car?” I inquired. “Where can we get a car?”

  We ended up hitchhiking into town, picked up by a delivery truck returning from a little tiny hamlet called Gorda. We checked into our rooms at the Bluebird Motel. The girls went to take showers and clean up. I did the same, but walked around the outside of my little cabin just in case some of Straight’s goons were staking out my place.

  It had been a hell of a day or two. I had lost track of time, but my room was still intact and Elisa’s little Ford coupe was still parked where I’d left it the night I walked to The Bucket of Blood to meet the girls. Paddy Straight tried to convince me my whole life had been an illusion. What if it really was? What if everything we perceived as real was just another show put on for the gods—and we were the hapless players? What if life was an illusion, a kind of hologram projected and suspended like Saturnalia’s orb? What if our attributes were like spiritual forces and we magnetized them to us by our behavior? I don’t know. But if I told anyone about the adventure the three of us had just endured, they wouldn’t believe me. After all, it wasn’t every day people came up against the Order Oculus and The Monster of Piedras Blancas—and lived to tell the tale!

  CHAPTER 9

  ‘THE CABLE DENNING SHOW’

  Life is a sideshow and you’re your own star. Yeah, the one in the spotlight for that instant of eternity when there is still enough self-importance in you to take life seriously.

  It seems like life and death are unlikely traveling companions. For humans, one’s not fulfilled without the other. For other-dimensional beings, however, death doesn’t seem to be part of the equation. Ever meet a woman so exquisite you felt she didn’t belong in this world? Well, that’s how I felt when I first laid my eyes on Cassiopeia. Death wasn’t part of her equation for me, like her gorgeous, naturally sensual mother, beauty like that could never fade because there was a timeless essence to it and whatever quality that was, it would never be pulled into a grave like Honey or Adora or Rusty Wilson and all the other mortals who would molder in a coffin six feet under. Or was I missing something? Was I missing the possibility that even us “mortals” were made of an essence that out-lived the physical body? Hell, look at Saturnalia. Seeing a withered old broad with festering boils all over her face, her once-lithe body shrunken along with drooping breasts and faded hair sure reminded me that one of the immortal’s bodies was headed for the old scrap heap. If they could conceive of immortality, why not us? Or maybe we were messed with biologically—long ago—and we don’t remember what a splendorous ancestry we have!

  When we got back to the Bluebird Motel, both Jane and I were exhausted, plus I was having some anxiety shit running through my body like the front line in World War I due to the now deceased Paddy Straight’s dormatine. One never knew about Cass. It was hard to figure what these “mortalized” immortals might be feeling at any given moment. She didn’t seem any the worse for the wear regarding the Piedras Blancas horror. Of course she hadn’t been in that cell with Godfrey, either. Jane must’ve been petrified, thinking her life would be over in seconds as that growling, hovering giant approached her. And there she stood, chained to a wall naked, menstrual blood leaking down her leg. What a hell of way for a person to go! Whatever it was that prompted Straight to fire on his own piteous experiment, I might never know. Suffice it to say he had reached an absorption point and like Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein creature, felt it best to put Godfrey out of
his misery……maybe. More likely, it was his own fear that if he didn’t obey Gor, he’d be cooked meat anyway. After all, brilliant and sick animals like Straight were self-preservationists. Naw, in the end I think he acted to save his own butt.

  That night the three of us agreed we’d meet on the morrow and I told them I’d delay my trip back to L.A. an extra day in order to recap our adventure and sort out what the next steps ought to be. After a hot shower, I collapsed into my little bed in Cabin #7. I had the window open and I could hear the happy little bubbling creek nearby, the sound of crickets and frogs, the mournful call of a foghorn.

  But my body could not go down to that deep and peaceful place nature commanded of it. The dormatine had wormed a hole in my psyche and all kinds of crap was leaking out all over a movie screen in my brain. I was falling down into the beam of a huge spotlight and my body trembled as I could feel things wind down to a slow-motion snapshot of me watching myself. I was dressed in a bright yellow suit, wore white shoes and hat with a red tie! Seems I was a master of ceremonies on a stage somewhere and in the back of the auditorium lights flashed the words, ‘The Cable Denning Show’, and an invisible audience started applauding. Or maybe it wasn’t an audience after all, but one person sitting in the middle of all those theatre seats clapping very slowly. The show must have stunk!

  In the wings I could see all the babes I’d ever known waiting for their turn to go on. They were dressed in glitzy, very sexy outfits. Amanda Baxter, Lei-Tao, Honey Combes, Ginny Fullerton, Zephyr and Eden Royce, Rusty Wilson, Zelda Blodgett, Sarah Mapleton—even Misty Sheridan waited in the wings for her cue. Only Adora was missing. I somehow knew each one sang and danced and I was the beneficiary of the proceedings. Except for the man in the audience. Who was he? The energy I got from his presence was dark and somber. What was he doing here in my dream? What was he waiting for?