The Montauk Monster
Page 11
Had the entire town been thrown into the Twilight Zone? Dalton leaned back into his seat, the leather creaking. He suddenly felt very tired. The adrenaline that had pumped through him the entire night began to ebb, leaving him exhausted and worried.
“Have there been any more instances of animal disturbances or attacks?”
There was a pause, then, “No, not since around five this morning.”
He checked his watch. It was a little after seven. It looked like it was going to be another hot, humid, sunny day. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
Throwing his cruiser in drive, he didn’t go far before finding a maimed cat hanging from the low branches of a tree. The gray and black tabby dripped blood onto the sidewalk. Again, he parked his car, warned the residents of the house by the tree not to go near it, and called it in.
The entire process was repeated five more times as he made the ten-block journey to the house where he’d watched the strange animal kill a German shepherd with almost humanlike precision and attempt to drag Anita away. All told, he found two cats, two squirrels, a muskrat and a small mutt he’d seen often around Main Street. He’d even fed it some french fries once.
The woman who owned the shepherd was beside herself. Her eyes were swollen and rimmed red. Dalton drew a sharp breath when he saw her robe.
It was covered in blood.
“Were you with your dog?” he asked.
“Of course I was,” she said, her breath hitching. “He was all I had left. My son got him for me when my husband died ten years ago. And then he passed away a year later.”
Maintaining a calm yet firm tone, Dalton said, “I’m very sorry to hear about your losses, but I need you to do exactly what I say. I want you to go back inside your house and change out of your bloody clothes. Remain inside. Don’t go back to be with Bruce, okay? I’m going to call some paramedics to come and make sure you’re all right.”
Confusion washed over her face. “I don’t think I need paramedics. I’m just upset. Anyone would be.”
Dalton put on a tiny smile, faking it as best he could, careful not to get too close. “I understand. You have every right to be upset. It would just make me feel better if I knew you were going to be fine. Standard protocol for something like this.”
“You have protocols for strange animals killing dogs?”
He wanted to say, We will after last night. Instead, he said, “The eggheads who draw up police manuals have a lot of time on their hands. They think of everything.”
“Oh, okay.” She looked down at her gore-soaked robe. “I better clean myself up.”
“That’s probably best.”
As soon as she closed the door he was back on line with dispatch. “I have a woman covered in what might be infected blood. We need an ambulance but they need to proceed with extreme caution. Treat it like it’s contagious.”
Treat it like it’s contagious.
He drove back to the station, passing by the first hazmat team as they dropped the raccoon under the tire swing into a black bag.
CHAPTER 16
Can Man emerged, old bones popping, from his secret hiding spot—the cold case in the old butcher’s shop that had closed a year ago. He’d kept the heavy door open a crack all night to let some air into the stifling, derelict shop, but he felt safer knowing he could shut it at a moment’s notice and no animal, no matter how big or mean, could get inside.
Shuffling through the plaza, his mouth open in a wide O as he yawned, he felt something different in the air. Normally this time of day, even though it was still early, the plaza and Main Street were packed with hungry vacationers lining up for pancakes and hot coffee.
Today looked more like a normal day after the summer season. There were no lines outside the dueling pancake houses, very few kids anxious to get to the beach.
“What happened last night?” he asked the sky, tilting his head back to feel the sun on his face.
Fumbling through his shorts pockets, he felt the three crumbled dollar bills he had left. It was enough to get a coffee and a Danish. Everything felt wrong. He needed to stick to his breakfast routine, even though he didn’t feel much like eating. Routine was good. Routine could restore order. Routine always made him feel better. Even living in the streets had its own cadence, an order to the day. It may have sounded irrational, but he felt that if he could stick to his morning ritual, everyone else would follow and normalcy would return.
He walked between a pair of parked cars to get to the coffee shop. His foot lodged under something heavy and he catapulted forward, landing on his chest in the middle of the street.
He was lucky. There were no cars on the road.
“Thank you, Jesus,” he said as he pushed himself up.
When he turned to see what had tripped him, all thoughts of munching on a Danish vanished.
The routine had been thrown to hell today.
A pile of fur and bone and blood lay wedged between the cars. A swarm of flies flitted on and off the body. It had to be a dog. And a big one, too. A cool breeze came off the sound, carrying the sweet yet rotted smell of the destroyed animal to his nose. He quickly turned away, burying his face in the crook of his elbow.
That dog hadn’t been hit. It was as if someone had taken it apart, limb by limb, and attempted to put it back together. But whoever had done it had no concept of anatomy or form.
As much as Can Man wanted to put distance between himself and the corpse, he felt a duty to stay close in case any children came by. He’d wait for one of the cops to drive past and flag them down. They’d know who to call to cart it away.
Dalton ended his shift the same time as Meredith Hernandez. Sergeant Campos left word for him to knock off for a few hours. He needed him fresh to start earlier than usual. Since the morning, everything had gone quiet. Everyone in the field was on cleanup duty. Parts of the town looked like the killing floor of an animal shelter.
When Meredith saw him walk into the station, she eyed him warily. “Hey, what happened out there last night?”
He undid the top button of his shirt and rubbed his eyes. “It was a complete nightmare. There weren’t enough of us to keep track of everything.”
Using her crutch, she got up from behind her desk, following him. “Is it true that Anita Banks was bitten by some wild dog?”
He sucked in a sharp breath, felt the start of a headache at his temples. “Yeah. It was bad. And it wasn’t a dog.”
“Then what was it?”
He looked around, making sure no one was listening. The precinct was just shy of a madhouse. Phones rang off the hook with residents concerned both about the dead animals and the hazmat teams sent to clear them out. It looked like everyone on the day shift had been called in. Leaning in close, he said, “I don’t have a frigging clue. I saw it with my own eyes and I don’t believe it.”
Meredith’s eyes grew wide. “You actually saw it?”
“One of them. There’s more out there.” He stopped and stared into the distance, lost in his thoughts. “Any word on Henderson? Did they find him?”
She shook her head. “I heard you were there, too. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. Are you okay?”
If he put some time into thinking about it, he would have to be honest and say he was as far from okay as heaven was from hell. With each passing hour, each interlocking incident, he’d felt a pressure building inside him. Right now, he felt ready to erupt. Things were happening so fast, he didn’t have time to process, much less breathe. Something was going to give. He hoped the pain in his head wasn’t a prelude to an aneurysm.
Instead, he said, “I’ll be fine. Once I hear Norm is all right and Anita is released from the hospital, I’ll be perfect.”
Meredith touched his arm. “Well, until then, you’re taking me out for breakfast. I need you to tell me everything. It’ll do you good to talk it out.”
“Are you the department shrink now?” It came out harsher than he’d meant. She took it in stride.
“Just a smart woman who knows what’s best. And I’m your elder. Don’t worry, I’m a cheap date.”
As much as he desperately wanted to go to his apartment and crash, he knew his brain would never shut down. Not the way he was feeling now. “Is this an actual date?” he asked with a tired smile.
“After what you’ve been through, you can call it anything you want. Come on, I’ll drive.”
CHAPTER 17
Meredith took them to a little café off Main. It had opened the previous summer and was the local answer to Starbucks, with the added attraction of fresh-baked pastries, rolls, and on weekdays, omelets. The coffee was a little pricey, like most things in town, but it was damn good.
Dalton ordered a black coffee for himself and hazelnut for Meredith, along with two croissants. Dalton told her about what happened to Henderson as he peeled the layers of his croissant apart. Meredith didn’t even touch hers, too wrapped up in his recounting of the absolute horror of the worst shift in his life.
“You really think it dragged him into the ocean?” she asked, gingerly sipping her coffee.
“It did at one point. If it reentered the beach with Norm, I didn’t see the track. The fucker was fast. And strong. I couldn’t have pulled Norm behind me like that. No way. And I’m a pretty strong guy.”
“The one you saw at the animal disturbance call with the dog. What did it look like?”
Despite himself, Dalton sat back and yawned. The night was catching up to him fast. “You’ll think I’m crazy. Shit, I think I’m crazy. I don’t know how I’m going to write everything up. They’ll definitely send me for a psych evaluation when they see my report.”
Meredith reached across the small table and placed her hand over his. “Don’t worry about the report. You can write whatever you want when it comes time. You can tell me what you saw. It stays between us.”
He looked into her dark eyes, her eyeliner wearing thin, wondering if he could trust her. She’d never given him a reason not to. Then again, he’d never had something so bizarre to tell that it could get him put on mental leave.
But he needed to tell someone. If it didn’t all come out, it would fester, rotting him from the inside out.
“Promise you won’t tell anyone?” he asked.
“Promise.”
Dalton took a deep breath and let it all spill out. He described the dog-goat-bird creature as best he could. The words sounded unreal as they poured from his mouth. To her credit, Meredith didn’t interrupt or flinch when he told her how Anita was attacked or the state of all the animals in the surrounding neighborhood.
When he was done, she finished off her coffee, stared up at the ceiling for a moment and finally met his gaze, whispering, “Holy crap. It’s real.”
“What do you mean, ‘it’s real’? I know it’s real. I was there.”
She waved her hand. “I’m not questioning you at all. What I mean is, I’ve heard about this before.”
“Are you kidding me? There’s nothing outside of a horror movie even remotely like this.”
“That’s what I thought, too. But now I’m beginning to doubt it.” She leaned her elbows on the table and said softly, “Have you ever heard of the Montauk monster?”
Dalton shook his head. “I don’t watch those kinds of movies.”
“I’m not talking about a movie. I’m talking about the bodies of real flesh-and-blood animals that have been washing up all around this part of Long Island for the past ten years.”
He chuckled. “I think you need as much sleep as I do.”
“Hey, I didn’t doubt you. I need you to extend me the same courtesy.” She folded her arms across her chest and leaned back in her chair. “See, you’re not from here. I’ve lived on the island all my life. There’s a lot of weird history out here, and I’m not talking ancient history. Over the last thirty years, there’s been enough strange crap going on in Long Island to fill a season of The X-Files.” She checked her watch. “You have a few minutes to spare? I want to show you something.”
All he wanted was a bed and his pillow, but he said, “I can spare a few. Where are you taking me?”
“My house.”
The words startled him, pushing a good portion of his weariness aside. She must have seen it in his expression, because she quickly added, “Don’t get any ideas. I came across one of those things about six years ago over at Sag Harbor Bay. I took some pictures and saved a few for home, along with a copy of my report. I want you to see it and tell me what you think.”
Twenty-four hours ago, if anyone had told him with any degree of seriousness that there were such things as Montauk monsters, he would have burst out laughing. It sounded as ridiculous as Sharknado.
That was before Henderson and Anita and the dead animals strewn about the town.
“Show me.”
Officer Jake Winn heard the call about Benny Franks and headed over before going to the beach to look for Norm. He was wasted beyond measure. Every bone felt like jelly. Plenty of time to sleep when you’re dead, he thought, pulling into Benny’s driveway. Didn’t Jon Bon Jovi use that in a song? Christ, I must be tired, quoting Bon Jovi tunes.
He and Benny had a history. When Benny was a cocksure, dumb-shit teen, Jake had busted him multiple times for vandalism, public nudity, disturbing the peace, you name it. They were minor infractions, but he could see them leading to bigger and worse things. Benny didn’t disappoint. Winn was the first one on the scene when a neighbor reported someone breaking into the Mathesons’ house. When he pulled up, gun drawn, there was Benny with two Hefty bags of stolen jewelry, appliances and every scrap of loose change and bills he could find.
Benny was nineteen when he did it, and he paid a grown man’s price. Since getting out four years ago, he was a different person. He’d finally grown up, one of the few who was rehabilitated and not made into a more accomplished criminal. Winn watched him from a distance and in a strange way, he was proud of him.
Looks like he’d never get the chance to tell him.
He recognized Summer Olchack as she spoke to one of the officers, George Ryker, in the front yard. Her legs couldn’t stay still and her makeup had run down her face. Pretty girl, under different circumstances.
“What do we have here?” Winn asked, stepping into the house. The smell hit him first. It made him wince.
“You might need this,” Mickey Conrad said, offering a small jar of vapor rub. Winn dipped his finger and rubbed it across his upper lip. Mickey stopped him from getting too close to the couch.
Winn looked at Benny’s body, or the semi-soup that was left of it, and asked, “It looks like he’s been dead for a frigging year in a locked house. What the hell happened to him?”
Mickey shrugged. “That’s for the ME to find out. I was told to make sure no one got near the body or touched it. They said I should wear a mask but I don’t have one and I don’t have the time to find one.”
“This is like those bodies on the beach.”
“I thought that the moment I saw him. If it’s toxic, it’s too late for me. That’s three bodies in two days, and I’ve breathed whatever’s coming off them both times.”
Winn thumped his fist against the doorframe. “It’s a fucking shame. He finally got his life straightened out.”
“You know him?”
“Yeah. We had quite a few run-ins over the years. He was a good kid at heart. His dad left when he was five and his mother kinda fell apart. He was left on his own a lot. I used to call him ‘that feral kid.’ Always dirty, always on his own, never up to any good.”
They both turned toward the yard. Ryker was having a hard time keeping Benny’s girlfriend calm. Winn’s brain was a whirlwind of thoughts, none of them pleasant.
“The ME’s gonna be a while,” he said. “I left him with a handful over at another place. A teenage girl got sick and—” He wasn’t sure how to say the rest. He could still hear the pop of her guts as they exploded.
“And what?” Mickey asked.
“Jesus.”
“He ain’t got nothing to do with it. Did you see those Animal Control guys out there with their protective suits?”
Mickey nodded. “I saw a couple on the way here. You have any idea what all this means?”
Winn took one last look at Benny and squared his hat on his head. “It means I can smell the feds on the wind. I’m a proud man, but I’m not too proud to admit this has gotten out of our control. And if they come, things are gonna get worse before they get better.”
Meredith’s house was a modest, detached single-family home with bright yellow shingles, a white picket fence enclosing an ample yard and a one-car garage. The grass looked like it was in need of a good mowing. There was a stone birdbath by the side of the house, placed alongside a window. He wondered how much time she spent watching the birds cool off in her little public pool.
“Very cute,” Dalton said. “I’ve passed by your house a thousand times. I always wondered who lived in the house so yellow, it could be seen from space.”
She backhanded him in the chest. “You must be an apartment dweller.”
“Yep.”
“Then I won’t begrudge your house envy. Come on, what I have inside will blow your mind.”
He followed behind her as she limped up the gravel walkway and three steps onto the porch. For a woman who was permanently handicapped, he couldn’t help but notice how in shape she was. How can you even think of that after last night? he scolded himself. He’d always been attracted to her. Why should the descent of chaos make things any different? Seeing everything go to hell brought a raw edge to all his emotions, even desire. He felt like the man in the plane about to take a thirty-thousand-foot nosedive sitting next to the beautiful woman, neither of them wanting to die a virgin.