by Deryck Jason
“Are you nuts?” Yelled Tony “We’ll die!”
“Coward” mumbled Anne, but this time Tony heard her.
“What was that?”
Anne ignored him.
“I said, what was that bitch?”
“You heard me!” Anne shot back.
Tony powered angrily towards Anne but the smaller Murdoch stepped in his path.
“Where do you think you’re going? Not man enough to go after some dolls but man enough to hit a woman?”
Tony raised his chin, emphasizing the height difference between them but Murdoch was not intimidated. The two men stood toe to toe for a long moment before Oates stepped slipped his truncheon between them.
“Come on now fellas, this isn’t helping anything. Tony’s right…”
Tony smirked.
“…even if he is being an asshole!”
Tony’s smirk turned to a frown but he wouldn’t dare say anything out of turn to his uncle. Oates turned to Jacobs.
“I’m sorry about your friend…” he then turned to Murdoch “…truly I am…” He turned to Jacobs again “…but there are too many places for those things to jump out at us from, we’d be extremely vulnerable if we went looking for them. We’re best letting them come to us.”
“So they can pick us off one by one?” Tony blurted out.
“We’ll be in a group retard, how are they going to do that?”
Anne’s retort was enough to seal the decision for the group. Even still, Tony just scowled at her.
CHAPTER 43
A nice car pulled up outside a store with a pulsing green neon sign outside it. This store was always open late. In a neighborhood largely populated by homeless, only a late night liquor store and a bottle depot surrounded this small, stand-alone building. The fact that these businesses were thriving in such harsh economic times said enough for the neighborhood in itself. The figure walked in unabashed. He had no need for a disguise, he was not known around here. The man peered through the glass display case, watched by a greasy, balding man. With a cigarette in his mouth the storeowner watched the man with the same level of suspicion he affords on all his customers.
The selection before him was limited but that didn’t matter much, each item would perform the same function. Choosing one, not the other was a decision motivated more by curiosity than functionality. The man’s hand waved slowly over the glass, hovering over the items like a metal detector on a beach. Fingers halted above one in particular, the man had made his decision.
“That one, I’ll take that one. The one that’s marked 300”
Smoky stared back without an ounce of charm, he had been through this way too many times.
“I’m going to need to see some photo I.D.”
Reaching under the desk he pulled out a clipboard with paper attached.
“You’ll also need to fill out these forms as required by state law.”
The man could tell Smoky had no interest in state law by the way he talked; he simply did not want to get busted.
“Would an extra 500 make those forms go away?”
Truth was Smoky didn’t care what the intended purchase was for, as long as there was payment, and as long as he (personally) was not going to get into trouble.
“You’re not a cop are you?”
The man pulled out a wad of bills and placed them on the glass counter.
“Do a lot of cops buy their own guns?”
“No…” replied Smokey. “I guess they don’t.”
Smokey unlocked the cabinet and pulled out the requested item, he wrapped it in a grey cloth and handed it over to the man. Vacantly, the man looked into the next cabinet at some bullets.
“I’ll need some of those too.”
CHAPTER 44
Oates’ office serves as a makeshift safe haven for now. While Oates and Jacobs stood side by side, outside the door the rest sat inside, waiting patiently for something to happen. Despite Oates being easily the eldest person here he was also the most alert. This was his time to put an end to all this death. He knew that he shared the blame for this mess and he was not prepared to stand by and let it continue. Tony was an idiot and a bully, but Oates was the one elected to keep the peace while upholding the law. Oates was tied to the rule of law, he didn’t just enforce it, he believed in it. This was why he would never come to terms with the fact he pissed on his own morals the day he turned a blind eye to the murder of Andy Williams. This was also why he was prepared to sacrifice his own life in order to stop the dolls, making it out alive would just be a bonus.
Jacobs was very similar to Oates in a lot of respects. He also felt bound to the law, even if they both practiced it in different worlds. While Oates was an elected official keeping the peace in a relatively peaceful town, Jacobs was one of many, dealing with cases in a much larger, more unpredictable area. In his time in the City PD he had worked what was known as the “grunge desk,” tackling cases no one else wanted to deal with. He was widely respected in the force for his high solve rate on these cases, cases that many others had left alone. He was also similar to Oates in the way that he did not mind bending the law a little if it meant he was able to solve a case. However, Jacobs was married only to his job, having never taken the time to settle down with anyone. He normally satisfied his masculine desires with one of the “ladies” who worked the corners downtown. Though this was technically illegal, Jacobs justified his actions by telling himself that sleeping with these women allowed him to focus on his work more and the truth was, he was not the only city cop who done it.
Jacobs respected those he felt cared about their work and he would stepped out of his way to help them. He could see Oates cared about his town, about the law and, more importantly about catching the “bad guys”, whatever form they may take. Though he still believed Oates had a small town mentality he had to admit the old man had an excellent mix of strength, determination and balls; qualities Jacobs admired in anyone not just fellow lawmen. The two men stood side-by-side, old and new in front of the open office door. Jacobs, in his suit, now loose-tied stood with an assault shotgun, freshly procured from the station’s gun locker. Oates stood vigilantly with his handgun at the ready, waiting for something to happen. It was quiet as Jacobs watched him, silently hoping that he would be as dedicated to the badge when he got to Oates’ age.
Inside the office, MacNamee stared at Anne. She had something between her knees that MacNamee was particularly interested in. Sitting on the floor beside Jessica she noticed the handsome doctor’s stare and smirked.
“You know how to use that?”
MacNamee was looking at the black shotgun in her hands as he asked the question.
“Never used one before, but I figure now’s a good time to learn. The sergeant said the recoil’s a bitch, but if I hit my target…”
“If…” MacNamee said with a smile.
Again, Anne smirked. She always had had a fondness for smart men, particularly smart men who looked as good as MacNamee did.
“What did you choose?” Anne asked.
MacNamee sheepishly held up a light handgun.
“It was this or a water pistol” he joked, finding comfort in the fact that he was still able to.
Anne looked around the dim office. Brian, Tony, Matthew and Jessica were all asleep. Fatigue had trumped their fear already. The only one apart from them who was still awake was Murdoch. But his trance like state did not suggest wakefulness.
“Are you alright detective?”
Anne asked this even though she knew it was stupid. Murdoch turned to her and forced a smile.
“I just wish I could’ve helped him. I just wish I could have helped both of them, you know? I should have been with them.”
“And while you were there someone else might have died in his place, and you would still blame yourself. It’s hard to hear I know, but you can’t be everywhere at once.”
The confidence of Anne’s response eased Murdoch’s guilt only a little. MacNamee said nothi
ng, he couldn’t. He agreed with Murdoch’s guilt, he felt it for Greta. However he did not want his silence to be probed by Anne so he spoke quietly, there were people sleeping after all.
“What do you think the chances are of us making it out of here?”
Anne looked down at Jessica, making sure she was asleep before responding.
“Slim.”
Murdoch nodded solemnly. MacNamee snickered nervously.
“Well hopefully we can do something to increase those odds eh?”
“Not with that little thing in your hands” Anne quipped, drawing chuckles from both Murdoch and MacNamee.
“Quiet!” Came Jacobs’ voice from the doorway. He and Oates had heard something. A shrill laugh was now echoing through the station, it sent a chill down Oates’ spine. The thought that someone could find amusement in this horrific situation scared him to no end. By now, everyone was awake; no one could sleep through that laugh. Oates and Jacobs both watched the double doors ahead of them, the same doors Brian came through from the second floor. Quietly, Murdoch slipped out to provide backup to his boss. A long moment dragged on. Nothing happened but the men were still tense. The low temporary walls around the desks did not block their views, but they did provide excellent cover for the creatures to hide behind and, even without talking, all three men recognized that. Jacobs and Oates started moving outwards in opposite directions. Suddenly, heavy footsteps coming from the basement staircase caused them both to stop.
All three men turned to face the stairs. The sound grew louder, something was coming up.
“This is it. Get ready”
Jacobs whispered to Murdoch as he aimed his gun towards the precarious staircase. All three men waited in anticipation, the sound of the footsteps were a sharp contrast to the silence that engulfed the main room now. A loud crash broke all their tension. Basket burst through the double doors, sending both slamming into the wall. In unison, all three men turned and opened fire but, as they did so, all three dummies came charging from the staircase. Conflicted shots rang out in the room as the men’s attentions were split. As Basket and the Dummies disappeared behind the desks and temporary walls, silence fell once again. Jacobs was very nervous now. Not only were the creatures in the room with them, but they were using tactics, working together. This thought unsettled him, he would have preferred them to be mindless killers, at least they would have been easier to destroy.
Anne and MacNamee moved out of the office silently to offer support. A high-pitched zipping noise startled Oates who turned towards the office window to see Tony had raised the blinds. Tony, Matthew and Brian were all at the window watching, sharing cowardly looks with those on the outside. With only a few simple gestures, Jacobs and Oates communicated their intentions to the group. The sergeant took Murdoch and moved carefully moved round the right hand side of the desk area, keeping his back firmly against the wall. Oates moved round to the left but he was poorly covered by Anne and MacNamee (both amateurs in this game) Because of this poor cover Oates was exposed, but he would not realize this until it was too late. Jacobs moved swiftly, checking as many areas as he could as fast as he could. However, the much more thorough Murdoch lagged behind, he stayed a few steps behind so he was better able to watch his sergeants back.
“Perry” a voice whispered.
Initially apprehensive, Murdoch pointed his gun in the general direction of the voice.
“Perry, it’s me!”
The voice whispered again and Murdoch recognized it straight away. Relief washed over his apprehension, covering it completely.
“James! I thought you were gone. Where are you?”
Murdoch’s voice was loud with hope and Jacobs’ heard him. The sergeant turned to see what his detective was doing but he wasn’t in his line of sight at all.
“Murdoch?”
Jacobs’ called out in a harsh whisper but he got no response.
“I’m down here…”
Graham’s voice was enough to lure his colleague into dropping his guard. Wracked with grief, the detective was only too eager to believe his friend was still alive.
Leaning in to inspect the shadowy shape under a desk, Murdoch was completely exposed.
“Murdoch!”
Jacobs’ second whisper was enough to snap the detective from his delusion but not enough to save his life. Basket sprung out from under the desk and sunk his teeth into Murdoch’s throat. Instantly, Murdoch collapsed, twitching to the floor as Basket tore his throat straight out like an animal. A small dummy popped out from under the desk, let out a hearty laugh and scampered off; satisfied with the role he played. Basket rolled back his head and sent out a booming cackle, knowing that this was his easiest kill yet. Jacobs’ ran round to meet the owner of the wicked laugh and opened fire. As the clown leaped around, avoiding the bullets everyone was completely distracted by the sight. Jacobs’ shotgun blasts were sending files, desk fragments and even parts of pot plants up into the air as he tried to hit his target Oates turned to fire on the clown too but got flanked by Dummy. The wooden behemoth slipped out from behind a filing cabinet and landed a solid punch to the old man’s kneecap, shattering it completely. As Anne and MacNamee stood trying to aim their weapons, Tony rapped on the window hard. He pointed furiously towards his uncle who lay on the ground, writhing in pain as Dummy loomed over him. Dummy was now fully under Connor’s control and Connor was enjoying watching the Sheriff squirm through Dummy’s glassy eyes.
“It’s your turn Sheriff”
Connor’s pre-pubescent voice was forceful out of Dummy’s mouth. Oates hardly heard anything though; his knee was causing him too much pain. Dummy opened his mouth wide, preparing to clamp down on Oates. A quick round from MacNamee struck Dummy right in the face. Even a somewhat lucky shot from his “little” handgun was enough to tear a large part of Dummy’s skull clean off. The bullet caused Dummy no pain but it certainly angered him. MacNamee had no time to enjoy his shot; instead he fired again, this time striking the dummy in the chest, tearing his sharp black suit. Dummy had to retreat for now, after all he was made of wood and the bullets were doing severe damage to his body. Jacobs’ continued blasting like a man possessed. His second detective was dead too and he wanted vengeance. MacNamee had to think fast. They were completely exposed right now. Over the blast he called for Anne and the two dragged Oates into the office. Calling Anne over the sound of shotgun blasts the two of them dragged Oates quickly into his office.
MacNamee let go of Oates and looked back into the main room. Jacobs’ was still firing off rounds, trying to land a killshot. MacNamee knew he wouldn’t last long on his own so he had to bring him in. From his experience in Hallcombes, MacNamee knew he would be wasting time if he tried to talk to Jacobs right now; he had to be brought in by force, he was simply too angry to be reasoned with. Springing to his feet the doctor looked square at Tony.
“Come with me!”
“Are you fucking crazy? I’m not going out there!”
MacNamee had no time to debate. He raised his gun and fired off a round past Tony’s head.
“Now!”
“Fuck!” Tony yelled out but followed MacNamee out into the room to grab the irate Jacobs’.
As the two men manhandled the sergeant, thoughts were running through MacNamee’s mind. He wondered if they would make it back to the office alive, he wondered if the two would be strong enough to control Jacobs but most of all, he really wished he hadn’t fired the gun in such a small area, his ears hurt terribly now. Jacobs’ resisted every step of the way but finally he was in the office being restrained by Brian and Matthew. MacNamee slammed the door, locked it tight and dropped the blinds.
The dolls had the upper hand once again.
CHAPTER 45
The Sheriff’s office was dimly lit when the shades were closed. The office wasn’t part of the original building; it was installed only ten years earlier. A true testament to the cheapness of ex-Mayor Hugh Shannahan; the office never actually had any lights install
ed in it. Oates never really had an issue with it. At first he did, but years of badgering got him nowhere so he gave up, saving his gripes for bigger issues. He had a desk lamp for reading with and that was all he needed. He would normally get enough light from the sun or by opening the blinds to the main room. Now, however, he wished he had badgered some more. The reading light provided enough light for the desk area but that was it, even with the lampshade off of it, it still wasn’t very bright (he also regretted buying energy saving bulbs)
Jacobs’ had stopped complaining about being held in the office, but he wasn’t thanking anyone for bringing him in either. He sat on the couch alone staring into a dark corner. He would not complain about the lack of light. He felt he deserved no less for bringing his two detectives to their slaughter. He sat, mournful, solemn, trying to work out how they could be killed under his watch.
Anne did not sit near Brian. If she had any respect for him before they entered the station, it was all gone now. Every so often she would glance up at him and wonder how she could ever have let him near her. “What a coward!” she thought. Her eyes would skim the dim faces of Tony and Matthew too, “so alike” she whispered more than once. She simply could not understand how she allowed herself to be involved with these guys. She looked back at Brian and he gave an awkward smile. With an opposing disgusted look, she never looked at him again.
MacNamee sat near the door with Jessica sleeping on his lap. His eyes were lost. He knew he had saved Oates’ life and he enjoyed that fact. He was no coward but he felt he had not pulled his weight much while here. In fact, the melee in the main room was the only tussle he had been involved in since the start of this mess. He felt that at least by saving Oates, he had done something towards the hopeful end of this. He thought of Greta, as he had been doing unconsciously ever since he saw her body. Now he allowed himself some time for real reflection, though the reflection could not take his mind off of the reality that faced him. They were cornered sheep, and the wolves were right outside the door.