The Fringe Dwellers

by Patrick K. Ball

  “In the nightmare, my patient is a seven year old child. The child in the dream walks into an alley and overhears two men talking. One of the men has a strange quality to his voice.”

  “What do you mean by, ‘a strange quality’?” Dr. Austin asked.

  “That’s how the patient describes it, but I’m not sure what he means.”

  “Not sure what he means,” Dr. Austin repeated, as if thinking out loud.

  Torrie didn’t miss the inflection in Dr. Austin’s voice. She needed to be careful about revealing anything else that might help Dr. Austin identify Ed as the source of the nightmares. “After the patient hears the two men talking, he wakes up screaming,” Torrie said.

  “Why?” Dr. Austin asked. “What does your patient hear or see that causes him to wake up screaming?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure that the patient actually knows, but whatever it is, it apparently is pretty terrifying.”

  “Hmm,” Dr. Austin mumbled. “Is there anything else?”

  “Um, well, there is one other thing. He says that it’s always three sixteen in the morning when he wakes up.”

  A light seemed to go on in Dr. Austin’s head and he looked concerned. “How frequent are these nightmares?”

  “There’s no definitive pattern. Sometimes they happen several times a week, but sometimes they only occur every couple of months or so. Why? Does that mean something?”

  “It’s probably nothing. It just makes me wonder about something. What’s this patient’s name?”

  Torrie knew this question should worry her, but she was suddenly feeling very relaxed—even a little bit sleepy.

  The next thing Torrie knew, she was in her car driving home. Torrie tried to recall what she’d done for the rest of the day, but realized she had no recollection of anything after discussing Ed’s dream with Dr. Austin. She couldn’t even remember their entire conversation. This concerned her. What had she told Dr. Austin?

  “Well, what’s the last thing you do remember?” Ed asked Torrie after she arrived home. Now, he was concerned.

  “He asked me the name of the patient who was having the nightmares,” Torrie answered.

  “And what did you say? You didn’t tell him my name, did you?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t think so?! Torrie, what did you say?”

  “I’m sorry, Ed. I honestly don’t remember.”

  “Great! There’re hundreds of dead bodies littering this country, Dr. Austin’s somehow involved and you don’t know what you told him about me. I hope I don’t end up as the next victim.”

  “Jesus, Eddie. I said I was sorry.”

  “You can put that on my tombstone.”

  Torrie didn’t respond, but her eyes welled up as she turned away from Ed.

  “I’m sorry,” Ed said when he noticed her reaction. He also walked over and hugged her. “I didn’t mean that. I’m just scared, that’s all. You’re important to me, Torrie. I don’t want to take this out on you.”

  Torrie hugged him back. She knew he hadn’t meant to hurt her. Her reaction was actually due more to her own fear than what Ed had said. Before she had a chance to tell Ed any of this, his cell phone’s ringing interrupted the moment.

  “Hi, Undertaker,” Torrie heard Ed say after the caller apparently identified himself. This was followed by a series of “uh-huh’s” and “okay’s” before Ed hung up.

  “Undertaker finished Tazz’s autopsy,” Ed explained to Torrie. “He wants me to bring the other autopsy reports and meet him at his house on the mainland. I still want you to come with me.”

  “I guess I’m in too deep to say no now,” Torrie said without any enthusiasm. “Let’s go find out exactly how deep this goes.”

  Torrie and Ed arrived at Undertaker’s house about thirty minutes later. Ed introduced Torrie to Undertaker while they followed Undertaker to his office. Undertaker apparently didn’t do much work at home. The office was a mess, but there didn’t seem to be anything in the office associated with his occupation. Instead, there were all sorts of unfinished projects and abandoned hobbies lying around—a half-built model sailing ship, fly-tying gear, various miniature engines for unknown vehicles, an expensive looking camera complete with multiple lenses, stamps from all over the world—that were remnants of Undertaker’s initial attempt at retirement.

  “I’ll start by telling you about the autopsy I performed today,” Undertaker said after they were all seated in the office. “There was nothing significant, meaning new, about the second body. I could’ve copied most of the first autopsy report verbatim and inserted it into the second autopsy report and been completely accurate. The two bodies looked the same and appeared to die under the same circumstances. Even the time of death was within the same range.”

  “What time did they die?” Ed asked.

  “I estimated the time of death on both bodies to be between three and three thirty in the morning,” Undertaker answered.

  “Three sixteen?” Torrie said.

  “Possibly,” Undertaker answered. “Why? Does that mean something?”

  Ed looked over at Torrie with a horrified look on his face and began rapidly flipping through the files he brought with him. “First one, time of death between two and four a.m.,” Ed said. “Next one . . . between three and three thirty a.m.”

  “Let me see those,” Undertaker said. He took a couple of minutes to flip through all the reports, then announced, “Three sixteen a.m. could’ve been the time of death in each of these cases. Okay, where does three sixteen a.m. fit it? Obviously, you two know something I don’t.”

  Torrie and Ed looked at each other before Ed finally spoke up. “It’s crazy. There can’t be a connection.”

  “I don’t think anything can be considered crazy right now,” Undertaker said. “Tell me what you’re thinking regardless of how nuts it sounds to you right now.”

  Ed hesitated too long as far as Torrie was concerned. “Ed, three sixteen seemed to mean something to Dr. Austin when I was discussing your dreams,” Torrie said, ignoring Undertaker.

  “What dreams?!” Undertaker said. “And who’s Dr. Austin?! Will somebody please tell me what’s going on?!”

  “For years, I’ve been having this same nightmare over and over and over,” Ed said. “Every time I wake up from the nightmare, it’s three sixteen in the morning.”

  “Are you sure about the time?” Undertaker asked.

  “Positive,” Ed replied. “You don’t live through something like that for this many years without knowing what time you wake up screaming in the middle of the night.”

  “I’ve seen it happen,” Torrie said. “I didn’t notice the time the first night . . . Ed hadn’t told me about the three sixteen thing, but that second night I did glance over at the clock before I fell back asleep. I specifically remember saying something about it being three sixteen.”

  “Did this happen recently?” Undertaker said to Torrie.

  “Yeah,” Torrie said. “In fact, it was the past two nights.”

  “Corpse number one and corpse number two,” Undertaker said.

  “My nightmares coincide with the deaths,” Ed said. “This doesn’t make any sense, but now that I think about it, I woke up early and got on the road to Gibsonton because I’d been awakened by one of those nightmares. That was the morning they discovered the body of The Crash Test Maven. I can’t prove it, but I’d be willing to bet that somebody died every time I’ve had one of those nightmares.”

  “This is crazy!” Torrie said. “Are you saying that your dreams coincide with these deaths?! That can’t happen!”

  “I already said it was crazy, but look at the facts,” Ed said.

  “All right, everybody calm down for a minute,” Undertaker said. “Let’s back up a little here. First, what are these dreams about? Second, who’s this, Dr. Austin? Third, what does this have to do with the people you were interviewing in Vagrant-ville?”

  Ed filled Undertaker in on eve
rything over the next several minutes, including Uncle Kane’s theory about the creature that hunts the fringe dwellers and feeds on their life-force. Ed was no longer worried about Undertaker taking him seriously. Actually, Ed was hoping that Undertaker could prove that Ed’s theories were completely irrational. Unfortunately for Ed, Undertaker seemed to be seriously considering these theories.

  “I hate to give any credence to a theory where the main suspect in these murders is some boogeyman legend, but at the moment, nothing else seems to make any more sense than that,” Undertaker said. “In the words of Sherlock Holmes, ‘When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’ But before we start looking up the number for the Ghostbusters, I want to know why the Edge Key Police Department, namely, Lieutenant Bischoff and Sergeant Moore, seemed intent on covering up the connection between these bodies.”

  “What about Dr. Austin, Nurse Trish and the clinic?” Torrie said.

  “That’s another consideration,” Undertaker said. “I think if we can uncover everything that was going on there, we’ll turn up another connection to these bodies.”

  “So, how do we proceed from here?” Torrie asked.

  Nobody said a word. They all just looked around at each other hoping someone else would speak up. Nobody did.

  CHAPTER 22

  “I really don’t give a shit what he said,” Captain Nash said to Lieutenant Bischoff over the phone. “I’m here with Shannon right now. You tell both him and that bitch nurse of his to get their ass over here right now. If they won’t come willingly, bring ‘em in cuffs. Either way, get them over here. Immediately!” he screamed and slammed the phone back into the cradle. He wasn’t going to give Bischoff a chance to protest again.

  “I take it, they’re on their way over here,” Sergeant Moore said while smirking.

  “Bischoff doesn’t know when to shut up sometimes,” Captain Nash said. “I swear, one of these days, I’m gonna stick my size ten’s up his ass so far he’ll be chewing on my shoelaces.”

  “Do you know what we’re gonna do?” Sergeant Moore asked.

  “Not a clue. I’ve got half’a mind to pick up the phone and come clean with that reporter—spill it all!”

  “Kevin, do you have any idea what would happen if ya did that?”

  “I’m not sure that I even care any more, Shannon. So what? I’ll get fired? They’ll take away my pension?”

  “That’s not what I’d be worried about. You need to worry about the other,” Sergeant Moore said.

  Captain Nash must’ve agreed with her because he didn’t argue this time. An uneasy silence fell over them as they contemplated what Sergeant Moore had said.

  Finally, Captain Nash broke the silence. “Have you considered that it might be too late to save ourselves from that fate?”

  The two of them fell back into silence as they pondered the question. If Lieutenant Bischoff hadn’t arrived with Dr. Austin and Nurse Trish a few minutes later, they would’ve probably sat there in silence for hours.

  “All right, Captain Nash, you got me here,” Dr. Austin said as he walked in the door. He didn’t look very happy about being summoned here. “So, tell me what’s so damned important that necessitated siccing your pit-bull on me?”

  “We’ve got a problem,” Captain Nash said. “A reporter’s been sticking his nose into that little problem of ours, asking a lot of questions about old police cases. I think you know which cases I’m talking about. We were even forced to provide him with copies of the case files.”

  “I’m not too concerned about that reporter,” Dr. Austin said. “He’s-”

  “He’s something you sure as shit should be concerned about!” Captain Nash interrupted.

  “As I started to say, Captain, I’m aware of this reporter,” Dr. Austin said very calmly. “His name is, Ed Nanreit. He grew up here on Edge Key.”

  “How do you know all this?” Sergeant Moore asked.

  “If you must know, he’s the nephew of one of my long-time patients—a derelict from Vagrant-ville—Kane Nanreit. I met him the other night when he returned to the Key to visit his uncle who’s been a resident of Ivory Rock for the past few days.”

  “Well, we need to do something about him,” Captain Nash said—he seemed to be more relaxed than when Dr. Austin first arrived.

  “I learned something about our reporter-friend today,” Dr. Austin said. “I don’t think he’s going to be a problem at all.”

  “Would you mind telling us why you feel this way?” Bischoff asked.

  “Is that the only reason you called me down here, Captain?” Dr. Austin asked, ignoring Bischoff.

  “I just asked you a question, Doc,” Bischoff said.

  “Relax, Lieutenant Bischoff,” Dr. Austin said, almost in a whisper. “I’m sure you could tell me if there were any other problems I need to be concerned with. But first, I need you to calm down. Just relax.”

  “Relax, okay,” Bischoff repeated.

  “Now, tell me, Lieutenant, are there any other problems I should be aware of?” Dr. Austin asked.

  “The county coroner was reluctant to label that lady we found at Ivory Rock as a suicide,” Bischoff said. “I think I straightened him out though.”

  “Then, we don’t seem to really have any problems at all, do we?” Dr. Austin said.

  “No, Dr. Austin,” the three members of the Edge Key Police Department said in unison.

  “I’ll be leaving then,” Dr. Austin said. “Say, ‘good-night’.”

  “Good-night,” the trio said.

  Trish waited until Dr. Austin and she were outside before saying anything. “I think we still have one problem, Dr. Austin.”

  “I know,” he sighed. “But, just as every fear can be conquered, every problem has its solution. We needn’t concern ourselves with that one particular problem—for the moment anyway.”

  Captain Nash parked his police cruiser in the driveway of his house and was just about to shut off his engine when he started thinking about the meeting with Dr. Austin and Trish. No matter how hard he tried, the only thing he could remember about the meeting was leaving with the feeling that it’d been productive.

  At two different houses on Edge Key, Sergeant Moore and Lieutenant Bischoff arrived home. Neither of them could remember any specifics of the meeting either. But, they both knew the meeting had been productive.

  All three of them slept soundly that night.

  CHAPTER 23

  “Don't think there are no crocodiles because the water is calm.”

  —Malayan Proverb

  Ed was wrong when he thought Kane missed the look from Nurse Trish when she told them to keep the door open because the staff needed to be able to observe the patients. Kane didn’t say anything to Ed about it for the same reason Ed didn’t say anything—he didn’t think anyone else noticed and didn’t want to unduly alarm Ed or Torrie. But Kane made up his mind in that instant. Despite his promise to Ed, he was going to get out of this clinic tonight.

  Unlike Ed, Kane didn’t believe he’d be safer in the clinic. In fact, Kane felt more like a sitting duck at the clinic. He hadn’t told anyone, but lately, Kane had been having a similar feeling to the one Tazz mentioned in his letter—a feeling of being hunted by something. After thinking about the feeling nonstop over the past few days, Kane was pretty sure that overwhelming feeling of being hunted had something to do with landing him in Ivory Rock several days ago. Kane decided in his own mind that when the feeling first hit him, his brain had somehow been overloaded, which is why the police found him wandering around, muttering incoherently. Of course, Kane wasn’t about to share his theory with Dr. Austin.

  Kane had another reason for wanting to leave the clinic. Ed either ignored or discounted the fact that the creature killed a woman inside Ivory Rock only two days before. If his feeling of being hunted was correct, Kane wouldn’t be safe in the clinic. It was also true that Tazz was killed on the outside, but Kane thought his chances would b
e better there. Kane had his support network on the outside—including Hulk.

  Tazz, now he was stupid, Kane told himself. I’ll be smarter than old Tazz. I’ll find Hulk and stay right next to him. Not even that creature-thing would dare fuck with that bear-man, Hulk. I know what Hulk likes. Just keep him in food and booze; that’s all Hulk needs. He’ll protect me. Everybody in Vagrant-ville’ll protect me. Everyone respects us old-timers. Just gotta get outta here before that thing hunts me down. No, I ain’t gonna end up like old Tazz. Maybe I’ll even do a little huntin’ of my own with Hulk by my side.

  After Ed and Torrie left, Kane pretended to go to sleep. He was familiar with the habits of the staff. Whenever a doctor, nurse or mental health tech saw a patient sleeping, they would close the door to the patient’s room. Kane thought it was some kind of hospital policy to allow the patients their proper rest. Every patient, regardless of their diagnosis, needed rest to aid their condition. Once someone closed the door, Kane knew he’d have the privacy he needed to stage his escape.

  Kane waited patiently until about seven o’clock when he heard what he’d been waiting for—the sounds of the night-staff making their rounds. He listened as two nurses walked down the hall towards his room chatting to each other.

  “. . . and so little Billy, he says to me, ‘Mommy, I went pee-pee all by myself’,” one of the nurses said. Kane recognized the voice as belonging to Nurse Nidia.

  “That’s wonderful!” said the other nurse. Kane recognized that voice too. It was Nurse Jamie.

  “Well, that’s what I thought until I went into the bathroom to see for myself,” Nidia said. “He did use the little potty trainer . . .”

  “But . . .”

  “He forgot to lift the lid!” Nidia said, chuckling. “Billy peed all over the lid of the potty trainer . . . all over the floor . . . God, it was a mess!”