Her mind made up, Mina grabbed a jacket and a flashlight, and left the apartment, her heart racing with excitement. She rode down in the elevator, crossed the lobby, and stepped into the cold afternoon, zipping her coat up against the chill wind.
Once outside she paused and looked around, but the parking lot was empty save for a few solitary cars that hadn’t moved in days.
This was great.
She slipped the flashlight into her jacket pocket, took one last look around, and then set off in the direction of the north tower.
41
By the time Decker arrived at the bait and tackle store, a crowd had already gathered, drawn by the excitement of the two police helicopters coming in to land. The docks were packed with gawkers, town residents and a smattering of the workers from the tunnel project as well as visitors. Inside the bait and tackle store, things were not much better, except that the people crowding around wore uniforms.
There were several State Troopers, the coroner, and two forensics experts decked out in white jump suits. As if to complete the tableau, a forensic photographer stood with his camera at the ready. The attention of most of these people was focused on a small patch of floor between two displays. There, surrounded by large plastic coolers, lay the corpse of Sheriff Don Wilder, his lifeless eyes looking up toward the ceiling, the pupils already clouding over. A pool of dark red blood surrounded the sheriff, most of which had come from the large hole where his neck should have been. More blood had sprayed up the side of the nearest display and covered the scattered coolers in a thick crimson coating, and there was even a little splatter as high as the ceiling. The sheriff’s gun lay a few feet away, waiting to be recovered and examined. Decker had a feeling it wouldn’t tell them much.
He turned away for a moment to compose himself. No matter how many times he attended violent crime scenes, it always left him with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Many years before, while he was still in training at the police academy, the instructors had told him that he would get used to such things, but he never did.
Upstairs, in the apartment, lay the mutilated body of Verne Nolan, the other victim. Decker had only met the man once, and he came away with the impression that he could handle himself. That hadn’t helped against whatever had found him the previous evening. He too was armed, and he had emptied his pistol at someone, or something, as evidenced by the empty cartridges and the multitude of bullet impact sites near the stairs. Whatever he was firing at, it wasn’t the sheriff, since neither man bore any gunshot wounds, which ruled out any kind of actual gun battle between them. Verne had died many hours before the sheriff, as confirmed by the coroner, who wasted no time taking temperature readings from both bodies. Besides, if the storeowner had died when the coroner said he did, that would put his demise right around the time that Decker and Mina were having their midnight conversation with Wilder. He was surprised that they had not heard gunshots, but the north tower was a long distance from the bait and tackle shop, and if they were upwind of the shots, the sound would have carried in the other direction, straight out across the bay.
He stepped away from the body, careful to avoid contaminating the scene, and pushed past two young state troopers that stood by watching the coroner finish up, a bored look on their faces.
He approached Hayley.
As soon as she arrived on the scene, she’d excused herself and took up a position near the entrance, which was where she still lingered, her face ashen.
“This is horrible.” She looked at Decker with tears welling in her eyes. “Wilder was an ass, but he didn’t deserve this.”
“Whatever did this was not human, I’m sure of it,” Decker told her. “The damage to the bodies is too organic, haphazard.”
“I know what did this. I saw it, remember?” Hayley wiped a tear away with the back of her hand, then looked down as it dried on her skin as if she expected something more than salty water. She looked back up, met his gaze. A haunted expression crossed her face for a moment, but then it vanished, fading like the last rays of the evening sun.
“Whatever you think you saw, we don’t know that it did this.” Decker’s voice was soft, low. He knew from experience that eyewitness testimony was often flawed, especially when preconceived notions such as myth and superstition were in play. On the other hand, he also knew that sometimes things were as fantastical as they sounded. After all, he was in Shackleton because of just such an event. He was certain of one thing, it wasn’t a normal man who had killed the sheriff and bait shop owner, and it could not have been a wild animal. Each of the four confirmed killings so far had taken place in areas that were unlikely places to meet a bear or a cougar, and besides, there was no way a wild animal could have escaped the sub-basement through the tunnel and then found its way out of the north tower. Likewise, it was unlikely it could have gotten in and out of the bait shop after the killings without leaving a trace. This was something else, something more frightening.
“I know what killed the sheriff and Verne,” Hayley said though clenched teeth. “And you need to stop it before it kills again.”
“I’ll do my best.” There was a sudden burst of sunlight as the door was pushed open, and two paramedics entered, wheeling a gurney with a black plastic body bag folded on top. Decker watched them maneuver the stretcher toward the back of the store, to the stairs leading up to the apartment, before turning back toward Hayley. “I need to know, who will be taking over as sheriff now?”
“I wanted to speak to you about that very thing.” She cleared her throat and looked at him. “I was hoping you would agree to take over.”
Decker was taken aback. “I’m not looking for a job.”
“I don’t mean permanently,” Hayley said. She glanced past him, toward the paramedics, who were lifting the corpse of Sheriff Wilder, now in the black body bag, onto the gurney ready to transport to the morgue. “But it will expedite things if you are in charge, at least until we clear this mess up. I’ll sequester a deputy from Anchorage in the short term to take care of the everyday stuff, traffic tickets, domestics, and the like. You will be free to devote your time to putting a stop to these murders. You will have total discretion to investigate however you want, free from further interference.”
“Just until this thing is settled?”
“And not a minute longer. You have my word,” Hayley replied.
Decker thought for a moment, weighing the options, and then nodded his agreement.
42
Mina hurried across the divide between the two towers, keeping a keen eye out for Sheriff Wilder. Even though she suspected he was down at the docks embroiled in whatever was happening there, she still felt it prudent to exercise a measure of caution. A night in the Shackleton town jail did not hold any appeal.
She was torn. This was the perfect opportunity to retrieve the hidden bag, and she wanted to surprise Decker and show him that she could take matters into her own hands. But at the same time she was itching to know what had happened at the bait and tackle store to draw such a crowd and necessitate the arrival of not one, but two, State Trooper helicopters, no doubt dispatched from Anchorage. It must be something huge, and she was missing it, a potential great story. She made up her mind. Getting the bag from its hiding place shouldn’t take very long. She could go down to the docks afterward.
The north tower loomed above her now, blocking out the sun. She hurried past the chained and padlocked front doors and made her way to the same window she and Decker had used the night before. As she approached she wondered if Wilder had secured it, nailed it in place or had it boarded up, but as she drew close she saw that it was just as they had left it. The window slid up with barely a protest and before long she was inside the building.
She wasted no time in hurrying to the lobby and slid down next to the rotting curved reception desk. She had no idea where Decker had placed the bag when he pushed it back under the desk, but she figured it must be tucked up between the drawers and the desk’s front
panel, high enough that it was out of sight.
She pulled the flashlight from her coat pocket and turned it on, shining the beam around the cavity under the desk, but could see no sign of the bag. Was it possible that Wilder had come in here after they left to check on the place and found it? But no, that was unlikely. He didn’t know about the bag and would have no reason to search for it.
She scooted forward, ducking her head so that she was wedged into the space where the chair would go, and tried again. This time she saw a fabric strap hanging down behind the drawer unit.
That must be what she was looking for.
She reached her hand up inside the desk, stifling a squeal as her fingers brushed something light and sticky. A moment later she felt movement against the back of her hand, a light scurry that almost tickled. She jerked her hand away in disgust. A large black spider flopped to the floor, righted itself, and sped away into the dark recesses of the desk.
She suppressed a shudder and reached under the desk again, trying not to think about the spider, and if there might be any more of them. This time, to her relief, she found the strap of the bag. She closed her hand around it and pulled. There was a moment of resistance, and then the bag tumbled from the cavity in which it was hidden and landed between her legs. She grinned and pulled it close, then turned to clamber out of the tight space. She gripped the top of the desk and started to pull herself up, then stopped, her ears straining.
From somewhere close by she heard a light footstep.
Mina shrank back down under the desk. She held her breath. Had Wilder found her? Or maybe Decker had decided to use the commotion at the docks to retrieve the bag himself. If that was the case she had nothing to worry about. Except that the footstep didn’t sound like Wilder or Decker.
She waited and listened, her heart pounding so loud there was no way anyone within fifty feet could miss it.
For the longest time there was nothing, but then, just when she started to think it was her imagination, she heard another shuffling step, then another, closer now.
She peered out from under the desk, her eyes flitting from one side of the room to the other, searching for the source of the footsteps, but she could see nothing.
Another minute passed.
Mina stayed under the desk, thankful that she was out of sight. She wondered how long she should stay hidden. It was obvious that someone was skulking around the old building, but she had no idea where they were, or even if they were still in the same area as she. For all she knew the interloper had wandered off by now. Regardless, she had no intention of moving until she was absolutely sure that it was safe. The decision proved to be correct, because a moment later the sound of footfalls came again, much closer now.
Mina shrank as far back under the desk as she could, her chest tightening with fear. She listened as the intruder drew nearer, the footsteps oddly muffled. Moments later, a shape crossed the lobby. She could only see the bottom half, the rest of the figure being obscured by the desktop that jutted out over her, but what she did see filled her with terror. Two sinewy, scaly legs, pale and white, entered her field of view. The creature was barefoot, which accounted for the muffled quality of the footfalls. Its toes were arched up, and she could see small protrusions, sharp and dagger like, poking from each one. With a start she realized she was looking at claws.
The creature moved away, off toward the corridor near the elevator, the same passageway that she and Decker had traversed the previous night.
She waited until it entered the corridor, gave it a few extra seconds just for good luck, and then, as gently as she could, eased herself from the cramped space.
Her legs had gone to sleep, and she gritted her teeth against the strange sensation of pins and needles as she put her weight on her feet.
She bent and picked up the bag, slinging it over her shoulder, and then turned to make her escape.
It was then that a thought occurred to her.
If she followed the creature, found out where it was going, it might lead her to its lair, and then she could bring Wilder and Decker back with her. They could put a stop to the killings once and for all.
The only problem was, she didn’t want to get anywhere near the thing. It had already killed at least two people, and she did not want to end up as its next victim.
Deep down she knew she had no choice though. If she let it get away the next death would be on her shoulders.
Taking a deep breath, Mina made her way to the corridor, and then, with her back flat against the wall, peeked around the corner in time to see the beast enter the stairwell.
She pushed off and followed, reaching the stairwell door just as it was about to close. She shot a hand out and caught it, pulling it open far enough to slip through before allowing it to swing back closed.
The stairwell was empty.
There was no sign of the creature.
She stopped, confused, wondering where it could have gone. She held her breath and listened, expecting to hear its footfalls somewhere on the stairs, but only silence met her ears.
Where could it have gone so fast?
She looked over the rail, down toward the basement, but there was nothing there. It wasn’t until she looked up that she realized how stupid she had been.
The beast was crouched, silent and still, on the next landing up, its pale eyes fixed upon her with angry menace.
A prickle of fear raced down her spine.
She opened her mouth, a scream welling in her throat.
In that very moment, even before the scream could fill the stale air, the creature pounced.
43
Adam Hunt was not a happy man.
He stood silent and stiff toward the back of a large crowd gathered on the docks and watched as the body of Sheriff Don Wilder was wheeled out on a gurney. Even though the corpse was enclosed in a body bag, he knew exactly who the paramedics were loading into the back of their ambulance. It was hard to keep the murder of the town sheriff a secret, especially in a town that loved to gossip.
The owner of the bait store had also shuffled off this mortal coil, at least if the murmured conversations among the crowd were to be believed, but that was inconsequential. The sheriff was a different matter though. He was a vital part of Hunt’s game plan. With Wilder gone, there was no one to interfere with John Decker, keep him from snooping around. The last thing Hunt needed was the nosey ex-cop stumbling upon the secret he was here to protect. He would have to keep a closer eye on him from now on.
He stared out across the bay, toward the open waters of the Pacific Ocean, and for a moment he was somewhere else, somewhere warm and inviting, rather than this frozen chunk of barren land. The quicker he could finish his assignment here the better. It would have been so much easier if those two idiots had not broken into the labs he’d spent the last few years protecting. Another month and the road through the mountain would be finished. The road that was being put in not because anyone wanted to help the people of Shackleton, but so that the old labs, and all the sensitive research material they contained, could be moved elsewhere with ease.
He was so close too.
Just a few more weeks and he would have been reassigned. Only things had went pear shaped and he had handled the situation with less than his usual finesse. Now he was in this mess up to his eyeballs, and his superiors, not men a person wanted to trifle with, were displeased. All he could do for now was to contain the situation, make the best of a bad lot, and hope that he could turn this thing to his advantage.
With a sigh he glanced back toward the bait and tackle store just in time to see John Decker exit along with the town administrator. He watched them make their way, heads bowed in conversation, toward a truck parked near the store and climb in.
He turned his attention back toward the bait and tackle store for a while longer, but there was little left to hold his attention. He stepped forward and threaded his way through the hushed crowd toward the small access road that ran away from the store, whe
re he’d left his truck parked up on the grass verge. When he got there he pulled his keys out and slipped behind the wheel before starting the engine and doing a U-turn in the road. He pointed the nose of the vehicle in the direction of the two towers, almost a mile away, and accelerated away from the docks.
When he glanced in his rear view mirror the paramedics were wheeling a second gurney into the building, no doubt to collect the deceased proprietor.
He shook his head.
It had been a crappy day, and he didn’t think it would get much better.
44
Mina screamed.
The creature launched from the landing above her, bounding down the stairs two at a time, its eyes fixed upon her.
For a moment Mina froze, time moving in slow motion, but then she came to her senses and turned. She fled back through the door, slamming it shut as she went. A moment later there was a mighty crash as the creature reached the bottom of the stairs and hit the door, all but splintering it off its hinges. It barreled through, emitting a hair raising high-pitched screech, and gave chase.
Mina’s heart fell. She had hoped the door would slow it, but the weak hinges were no match for the brute force of the thing.
She ran as fast as she could toward the lobby, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She knew she should be afraid, but she was not. It could be the adrenalin pumping through her system, or maybe she just didn’t have time to feel fear. Either way, if she didn’t put some distance between herself and her pursuer the fear would be back soon enough, at least until she was ripped apart.
The lobby was in sight now. She saw the desk where she had hidden as the creature passed by a few moments before. Had it known that she was there? How else could it have possessed the foresight to wait in silence on the landing? That was ridiculous though. The creature would have no way of knowing that she would decide to follow it. She could just as easily have hurried in the other direction and made her escape back through the window. Besides, if it knew she was there, why didn’t it attack when she was vulnerable and trapped? It must have heard her climb from the desk and follow behind, trailing it. That was the only thing that made sense.
Cold Sanctuary (John Decker Series Book 2) Page 15