Demon (The Mike Rawlins Series Book 1)

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “Gary’s the one, D?”

  Demon nodded at Mike. He then ran out to the circle of road, waiting impatiently for Mike to follow. He then streaked toward a spot where the encircling fence around the mobile home park gapped near railway tracks.

  “Denny and I’ll follow Demon,” Mike offered. “You can go around to Lewelling with the car. He’s on to something.”

  Tom popped open the trunk of his car and handed the two teens flashlights. “Take these and keep them on so I don’t lose you in the dark.”

  When Mike and Denny reached Demon, the dog followed the rail tracks toward Lewelling Boulevard, turning left while heading toward the Bay. A thin ground fog slithered in from the ocean across the marsh further down the road. Tom’s Chevy caught up but stayed behind the teens. Demon crossed a circular spur in the road where Lewelling turned into Bayfront Drive. The lights from the housing projects on both sides glowed eerily in the thickening fog. A few cars drove by in front of them on Heron Drive where it bordered the Heron Bay marshland. As Demon and the teens angled across the road into the marsh, Tom parked his Chevy and caught up to Mike and Denny with his own flashlight.

  “I could barely see your flashlights from the car,” Tom told them. “I have a bad feeling about Demon heading out into this marsh. I should call for backup.”

  Mike stopped and whistled. Demon halted. “I know this is like a bunch of idiots in a bad horror movie running out to meet some masked slasher in the dark, but I don’t want you losing your job, Tom. The guy’s not out here right now, but maybe there’s something to do with the little boy in the marsh. Can’t we confirm we have something before you call in for backup?”

  Tom glanced back toward his Chevy, but the ground fog had already obscured it. “I guess maybe you’re right. We’ll see what Demon’s on to first. I hope he knows where he’s going. Can you get him to stay close to us so we don’t lose sight of him?”

  “Sure. D, take it slow.”

  Demon nodded. He paced out in front of the small group with Denny continuing to film in the fog. Demon kept low to ground, his attention focused in a tight pattern.

  “Man, this movie will be like the Blair Witch Project,” Denny said as he walked carefully next to Mike, the flashlight beams only lighting up the ground a few paces ahead before reflecting off the fog bank.

  “Give me the iPad and I’ll film you following D for a while Denny after you look back for a close-up. You’ll be able to have proof you were with us.”

  “Great, Mike,” Denny agreed, giving him the iPad. “Do you want to be in on this, Officer Huang?”

  “I don’t think so, kid.”

  “Maybe you better, Tom. Our cinematographer will edit you out if you want later.”

  “Okay, but make sure I get a look at anything you bunch put up on some goofball Internet site. I can end up the butt of every joke for the next six months in the department.” Tom moved up next to Denny, looking back momentarily so Mike could record his face. “Boy, do I feel stupid.”

  A moment later, Demon grunted and darted ahead with his followers hurrying to catch up. As they caught up in a small area of spindly grass and weeds, Demon hopped around excitedly, stopping to paw the ground every few seconds. Mike knelt next to him after handing Denny the iPad again. With Tom holding the flashlight, Mike used his own light to peer closely at the ground. Then he saw it. A tan strap lay partially buried in the loose dirt.

  “It’s a handle, Tom.”

  “For what?”

  Mike swept away dirt around the strap. Edges of an oval metal hatch became evident in the light. Mike began to pull up on the strap but Tom stopped him.

  “Stay to the side when you pull up on it, Mike.” Tom drew his 9mm Taurus sidearm and pointed it at the trapdoor, his flashlight held steady next to the barrel. “Yank it up.”

  Mike threw open the hatch, allowing it to slam back on its well oiled hinges. Tom stepped forward in a crouch, his weapon aimed down onto the empty opening where a metal ladder descended into darkness. Moving forward, Tom pivoted his light around to see into what was below. Demon scrambled around the outside of the hatch excitedly.

  “It’s some kind of storage tank or something,” Tom said.

  “I’ll go down,” Mike volunteered, sticking his flashlight into a coat pocket before angling down onto the ladder. “You want to come along, Denny?”

  “You bet.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Mike.” Tom took up a position near the hatch. “Be careful seems too lame to even mention.”

  “I hear ya’. Film me going down before you follow, Denny. We want this whole thing on video for the record. We’ll need evidence if this works out the way D seems to think it will.”

  “Arf!”

  Denny chuckled, his hands shaking only slightly as he filmed Mike’s descent down the ladder, his flashlight beam providing light for the video. When Mike reached the bottom, he spun away from the ladder as he drew out the flashlight from his coat pocket and directed it around the inside walls. Rust, corrosion, and mold blanketed the interior. Sharp lines and corners bordered the small space near the ladder with another wall and hatch-like doorway. Mike could see it had been added to partition the inside. A dankness made up of rot, saltwater, and bog permeated the air.

  “There’s another hatch down here, Tom. This doesn’t seem to be a tank. It seems more like a train car. Denny will call your cell so you’ll know what the heck we’re doing.”

  “Good idea,” Tom called down. He grimaced at Denny’s voice when he answered –‘can you hear me now’. “Loud and clear, punk. Focus.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Denny replied.

  Mike grinned, his heart racing as he clutched the handle on the hatch mechanism. It slid into the open position noiselessly. He glanced back at Denny while taking a deep breath. “I know one thing: someone’s been keeping this hatch lubed up. Go to the other side and I’ll ease it open.”

  Denny stepped to the right where Mike indicated, recording as he moved into position. Mike grasped the smooth handle, devoid of the rust covering everything else on the door. The hatch popped slightly when it unsealed. Mike easily pulled it open a crack. A foulness seeped out in an almost tangible cloud, assaulting the teens’ senses. Their eyes watered slightly in protest. Dull reddish light made the hatch opening glow eerily.

  “Holy crap, Mike… this really is like a horror movie.”

  “Hel...hello? Is anyone there?”

  The voice sounded as if it were muffled. Mike threw open the door, charging into the adjoining enclosure, his fists up. Small puddles of saltwater welled up in spots where corrosion had eaten all the way through the metal flooring. A small bedroom setting, complete with a dresser, double bed, and curtained backdrop furnished the right side of the larger partitioned area. Flood lamps aimed at the bedroom setting were hooked to a portable generator mounted on a metal stanchion. It appeared to be vented through a metal wall vent where fresh air hissed into the room. A large gray utility shed bolted into the opposite corner of the room on two sides, incorporated a makeshift latch locking the doorway.

  “Jimmy?” Mike called through the locked door.

  “Yeah? Who…who are you? I…I want to go home…please mister… please?”

  “That’s what we’re here for, Jimmy. Back away from the door while I find something to break the lock off.”

  “The key’s in the dresser!” Jimmy yelled through the door excitedly.

  “Great! Tom, are you getting this?” Mike ran over to the dresser. He pulled the first small top drawer out. It was filled with camera attachments and computer paraphernalia. The drawer on the right contained blindfolds, gags, and other bindings. A single key on a ring lay on top of the blindfolds. Mike grabbed it and hurried back over to the shed lock.

  “Tom can’t hear us, Mike. This room cut off our signal. Want me to go out and call up to him?”

  “No. We’ll set Jimmy free and get the hell out of here,” Mike replied while fumbling the lock open. He to
re open the shed door. Jimmy sat huddled in the far shed corner on a dirty red mat. His eyes blinked hugely in Denny’s flashlight beam. “It’s okay now, Jimmy. Can you walk?”

  “Su…sure.” Jimmy bounded up off the mat.

  Mike clutched the boy’s icy cold hand, pulling him along toward the room exit with Denny bringing up the rear, the iPad clutched tightly against him to keep his hand from shaking. Mike looked up the outside ladder, hugging Jimmy to him.

  “He’s okay, Tom! We got him!”

  Tom’s face appeared over the upper hatch with Demon’s right next to him, peering down at Mike and Jimmy who were illuminated in Denny’s flashlight beam. “Thank God! Can you bring him up while I call in?”

  “On our way.” Mike crouched down in front of Jimmy. “Hop aboard.”

  Jimmy quickly wrapped arms and legs around Mike from the rear. When Mike was sure the boy had a good grip, he quickly ascended the ladder, slowing only as he approached the small opening. Tom reached down and plucked Jimmy up through the opening. Moments later, they were all in a group. Incoming texts were beeping messages on the iPad as Denny’s video feed to Mike’s house finished transmitting when the signal improved. Tom immediately called in for an ambulance and backup. It was then that Demon issued a low growl from where he had been standing sentry duty in the heavy fog.

  “That’s not good, Tom. Shut off the lights.” Mike picked up Jimmy and headed away from the hatch. “C’mon, we have to get away from here. Move slow. He’ll never be able to see us in this fog.”

  Tom went down on one knee, his 9mm Taurus in hand, aimed toward where they had come from. “You three take off. I’ll cover you.”

  “Okay,” Mike agreed, treading as quietly as possible at a right angle away from the hatch. Denny kept filming in the dark, stumbling in spite of the slow pace because of the disorienting fog. Mike whispered tensely. “Easy Denny. We don’t want the sound giving away our position.”

  When they had gone nearly fifty yards a light flashed directly in Mike’s face. Jimmy screamed, his arms in a choking grip around Mike’s neck. Mike heard the pump action of a shotgun cartridge being jacked into place as the light wavered. Tensing to jump sideways while reaching back to grab Denny, Mike feinted right and went left, dragging Denny with him. Mosely chortled appreciatively in the darkness beyond the flashlight.

  “Too late, asshole!” The gruff voice whispered as his flashlight beam and shotgun barrel followed Mike’s desperate gambit.

  It was then Demon’s bulk and slashing teeth bore the stunned Gary Mosely heavily to the ground, his finger jerking on the trigger. The shotgun blast blew up marsh dirt a split second before the gun clattered out of Mosely’s hands as he landed. His screams were cut off, gurgling hideously into abrupt silence, with only the ghastly sound of Demon’s ripping teeth left to trail away seconds later. Tom ran up, his flashlight beam and weapon wavering as he moved toward them.

  “Over here, Tom! Don’t shoot! Demon got him.”

  Tom slowed, checking out the teens and Jimmy with obvious relief. Sirens wailed in the distance. Demon approached them, his mouth bloody in Denny’s beam. Mike set Jimmy down and hugged Demon. Tom went to reluctantly examine Mosely, where he saw the fog dulled beam from the kidnapper’s discarded flashlight.

  “Wow, is he your dog, mister?” Jimmy asked, stroking Demon’s head.

  “Not exactly,” Mike replied. “I’m kind of his human.”

  Tom walked out of the fog, his face set in a grim mask. “Mosely won’t be kidnapping any more little boys. That was close. One blast from that shotgun and all three of you would have been dead. Denny, can I borrow your iPad? I need to film the shotgun, position of the body, and where the round he fired hit.”

  “I’ll do it for you. We’ll just tell them you did it so they won’t fire you for letting a punk take crime scene photos. That way we won’t have to waste time on lessons.”

  Tom chuckled. “Okay, but I hope blood doesn’t bother you much.”

  “I’ve had enough of my own kicked out of me since grade-school to lessen the impact of someone else’s.”

  Mike waited until Tom went with Denny to get pictures of Mosely before taking out his handkerchief and spitting on it. He then wiped Demon’s grinning mouth. “Hold still, D. You look like a ghoul. If they see you with all that blood coating your mouth, the other cops will probably shoot you.”

  Jimmy laughed as he watched Demon squirming around with Mike trying to hold him steady. Tom and Denny returned a moment later. Tom was on his cell-phone guiding the approaching headlights through the fog. With the marsh ground relatively dry, it had been decided after Tom’s call in to the station not to stop at the paved road. A police helicopter noisily hovered onto the scene, its searchlight illuminating the marsh, but defused by the thick fog. Tom began waving his flashlight beam upwards and soon the helicopter was hovering right over-top of them. The fog dispersed, whipped away by the rotating blades.

  “This is going to get crazy,” Mike muttered, his arm around Jimmy’s shoulders.

  Tom let out a quick snort of laughter. “Ya’ think?”

  * * *

  Mike woke up in a panic. When he noticed his nightstand clock read only six in the morning, he relaxed against his pillow with a deep breath. Room sounds gradually seeped into his consciousness, including Demon’s snoring from the end of his bed. Grinning, Mike carefully swung his legs over the bed’s edge and put his feet on the floor. He stood up from the bed and picked up his robe. Five minutes later, he stood in the hot shower, his head ducked under the stream. Visions of his time at the police station, coupled with the unending questions, rattled through his mind. Dan had interceded on his behalf after they had dropped off Denny, convincing Jenny, Laura, and Joanie to leave any family interrogation for the following day.

  Dressing quickly after his shower, Mike saw Demon watching him speculatively. Mike shrugged at him with a smile. The Mosely’s parents had streaked to the police station in an uproar claiming their son had been executed. They screamed, howled, and cried, all to no avail. Although jerky, the video of what had happened left the parents with no advocates either in the police station or the DA’s office. Tom had insisted on a viewing of the video in a private room with his police chief, the mayor, and the assistant District Attorney in attendance. Mike remembered the looks of horror as the video progressed. After answering a few questions from the assistant DA and police chief, he and Denny were escorted into separate interrogation rooms with Demon allowed to accompany Mike by order of the mayor.

  They were set upon by Mosely’s parents, threatening everything from suing the city for tens of millions of dollars to imprisonment for Tom Huang and death for Demon. The police chief herself ordered them to shut up. She then had two officers forcefully take them into the viewing room to be shown the video. Tom had told him later that after the video ended, Mosely’s parents fled the room and the police station, bypassing the horde of media outside the station. With the help of a few other officers, they had managed to sneak, Mike, Demon, and Denny out to Dan’s Chevy Equinox after their statements.

  Dan and Jenny were already waiting at the kitchen table, the smell of coffee an irresistible scent of normalcy as he and Demon joined them. Mike sat down opposite them with Demon near him.

  Jenny spoke first with Dan looking down at his coffee cup after initially giving Mike a short wave of greeting. “I guess we don’t have to tell you what it felt like to watch that perverted clown pointing a shotgun at you, do we?”

  “Arf!”

  “You stay out of this, Garfield,” Jenny ordered, pointing her finger at the now cowering Demon under the table. “I cut you slack because you’ve already saved Dufus’s life here multiple times. Without you, he’d be toast.”

  “In answer to your question, Mom, no you don’t need to explain how you felt. I have a very clear idea of how it must have looked. I guess it would be crass to say no blood, no foul, huh?”

  Dan started chuckling, only to shut up when
Jenny stared daggers at him. “He’s right, hon. What the hell can we do now besides thank God they’re all okay and the little boy’s back with his parents?

  “Arf!” Demon added while lying down and putting his paws over his head while peeking out at Jenny.

  Jenny tried to retain her glowering look of disapproval but failed. Her snickering turned into full blown laughter as Demon shuffled toward her putting his paws on her feet. When she could speak, Jenny knelt down, reaching under the table to Demon with a sigh. “You’re the cutest damn monster I’ve ever laid eyes on. You seem to have the ability to know the future. Is this all going to end in tragedy?”

  Demon sat up, his face a solemn mask, and shrugged his shoulders, expressing his ignorance of what was to come. He offered his paw to Jenny, who took it in both of her hands. The two stayed locked in position under the table looking into each other’s eyes a long moment, a slight smile spreading across Jenny’s mouth as her husband and Mike waited in silence. She sat in her chair again and turned finally to Mike.

  “Are you going to school today?”

  “Yep. Joanie needs a ride. I don’t want to miss class. I told Denny I’d pick him up too.”

  “No fighting in school today.”

  Mike frowned. “How the heck can I promise something like that, Mom? I’ll promise not to let somebody like Brad push my buttons like he did yesterday. How’s that?”

  “I guess it’ll have to do. Dan’s taking Demon with him to the shop.”

  “I figure my taking D will draw the media away from the house. I don’t know what will be coming out today on the news. We were afraid to turn it on this morning. They did a good job of keeping it under wraps last night but that can’t last.”

  “Tom gave us the okay to give the video over to Gail’s Dad. Denny’s going to edit it himself and send Steve both the raw video and his edited version. He’s hoping Steve will be impressed. I like Denny. He sure doesn’t scare easy.”