by Chad Huskins
The Grey Wolf continued walking, down a sidewalk and across the street to an all-night diner. He called a taxi service to come around and pick him up, and then stepped inside to grab a cup of coffee.
14
Leon pulled into the half-circle driveway of Cartersville Elementary School and stopped just behind the only squad car. He stepped out, had his ID ready—just a license and passport, his badge was gone until he could be reinstated, which wasn’t likely.
The two officers approaching him were white good ol’ boys, both of them massive at the midsection, real contenders for the Bartow County Hotdog-eating Championship. Leon hoped that Kaley had been exaggerating about the danger, because these two were nowhere near in shape to chase a child if they had to, much less stop a clan of trained Russian assassins.
“Mr. Hulsey?” said the largest of them, a bald fellow with a policeman’s mustache and a nametag that said he was Belle.
Mr. Hulsey, Leon thought. Not Detective Hulsey. Perhaps they didn’t know his full story, but more than likely they did, and the “detective” had been excised on purpose. Not even a modicum of fraternal respect. “That’s me,” he said, shaking hands. “I guess my guys gave you a call?”
“I’m not exactly sure,” said Belle. “I think dispatch said yer old station chief called, or some such.”
Leon nodded. “I guess that’ll work. You boys know the whole story?”
“We’ve been inside to speak with the girl and her teacher,” said Belle’s partner, the fatter of the two with bronze skin and a goatee. His nametag read Graham. Leon thought, Graham and Belle. I’ll bet they get shit for that from their peers. He suppressed a smile as he listened. “They’ve moved the girl to the library and an officer is in there with her.”
Leon shook his head. “That’s it? Just a school security officer and you two?” Graham and Belle both eyed him. “I mean no disrespect, fellas, I just mean that maybe your department isn’t taking this as seriously as they should. We are talking about Russian Mafia, in case they didn’t inform you. At least, a splinter group, but they’re every bit as violent.”
“We understand,” said Belle, in a way that indicated he didn’t. It was just an old game of strutting. Small-town cops versus the big-city (and disgraced) cop. A game as old as playground antics. “But one girl sayin’ she’s been gettin’ a few prank phone calls—”
“Kaley Dupré didn’t say they were prank phone calls—”
“—or whatever she’s been a-gettin’, don’t mean we call out the Secret Service.”
“The girl was frightened, and—”
“We have detectives on their way to speak with her,” Belle assured Leon. “They’ll talk to her an’ see what she—”
“I spoke with her over the phone. She says that these people want her and her sister, and that they’ve indicated it might be today.”
“Why would the Mafia call a little girl and taunt her with her impendin’ doom?”
The question had occurred to Leon, too. And of course, it did sound a bit silly. But the Rainbow Room hadn’t been any usual sort of organized group, not by any stretch of the imagination. They had a twisted structure that had grown as a splinter group from the vory v zakone. They had an Internet service that allowed child rapists to upload videos of themselves doing their vile deeds, and the more they made children suffer and cry, the higher member status they had on the website. If some of them were still out there and angry at the Dupré sisters for helping to bring down their operation, who knew what sort of sick games they might play with a child over the phone?
All Leon could say to Belle’s question was, “These people…aren’t human. I don’t know how else to say it. They’re the kind of people even other organized criminals want nothing to do with.” Belle started to say something else, but Leon cut him off. “Can I see her? Can I speak to Shannon? Just for a minute, to check on her, let her see a familiar face. She might be a little scared right now, being shuffled around.”
“We were told that you were no longer an actin’ officer of the law. So, I’m sorry, we appreciate the concern and our chief said thanks for the heads up, but I’m afraid you wasted a trip.”
Leon looked between Graham and Belle, then at the school itself. The building was well kept, with shrubs hugging up against it, and a large sign out front announcing BOOK FAIR FRIDAY. Leon glanced south, towards the bigger building of Cartersville Middle School just a couple hundred yards away. Not a creature stirred. A light, cold wind was blowing in, but otherwise, all seemed serene and quiet. “Do you mind if I stick around?” he asked. “Just in case?”
Belle looked at Graham, who said, “You’re not armed, are ya, Mr. Hulsey?”
Leon tried not to bristle too much at the question. “I have a license to conceal and carry.”
“But that don’t float on school grounds,” Belle said. “You oughtta know that.”
He did, he just figured a little professional courtesy here would give him some leeway. Boy was he wrong. “All right,” he sighed. “Well, I guess I’ll head back.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Belle judged.
“Boys, good to meet you.”
Leon turned away, and just as he did, he heard a tiny little whisper, “Don’t let him near her. He may stand in our way.”
He turned back around. “What?”
Officers Graham and Belle had just turned to go back to the front doors of the school. Belle looked back at him and said, “Sorry?”
“One of you say something?” The two officers looked at one another, shook their heads. “Huh.” He took another look around. “Well, adios.”
Halfway back to his car, something nipped at his heel. Leon shook it, and stepped into his car. When his feet touched the pedals, they felt…wet. Like he’d stepped into a puddle. He looked down, saw that they were both bone dry, and then cranked up and started out.
As CES and CMS shrunk in his rearview mirror, Leon thought he heard something else. Another teeny, tiny whisper. “Good. He’s leaving. Excellent.” Leon winced, looked around his car, then checked the radio to see if it was on and the volume was just low. No, the radio wasn’t on. And yet, the words still moved around him. “Keep quiet! Keep quiet! I think he can hear us!” Another voice said, “No, it’s not possible. The vein doesn’t open to him.” Then another voice, “He can, he can, I tell you! He can hear us!”
“All right,” he shouted, pulling to the side of the road. “Who the hell is that?”
Silence. Just Leon breathing and the car grumbling.
Then, so very faintly he might’ve missed it if he hadn’t been straining his ears, “I told you. I told you he can hear us…”
He blinked, put a pinky in his ear and shook it around. Was he hearing things?
Leon glanced in his rearview mirror. He looked back at the two schoolhouses. Memories came back to him. Images. That night on Avery Street, when the rain had poured in sideways—lots of people had thought him crazy, but others were there that night, including Lieutenant Hennessey and his SWAT team, and they had all corroborated his story. Yet still, no one had made much of it.
He remembered the story that Kaley and Shannon Dupré had told. A bizarre story, one that the child psychiatrist and the trauma therapists had said was conjured up out of the bowels of the two girls’ imaginations and trauma. Strange stories about a devil house, and things grabbing hold of them, and snatching Officer David Emerson. That had been the most disturbing part of all to Leon. Emerson was a good cop, and had dedicated himself to getting Spencer Pelletier that night, but had vanished into thin air upon entering that house on Avery Street.
“It swallowed him whole!” little Shannon Dupré had said in her second interview. Leon had watched that at least a dozen times, each time feeling his heart torn from his chest. The sound of her shrieking was inhuman, and the anger twisting her face was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. “That house! That house! It swallowed him whole! I saw it! I saw it! I saw it! Ask Kaley, she saw it t
oo!”
In another tape, Kaley Dupré had spoken with tears in her eyes, though calmly, “It was me. I did it. They hurt Shannon and I didn’t know what else to do so I unleashed…it.” The interviewers, a police officer and a child psychiatrist, had been there to press her on what she meant by “it.” Again and again, Kaley had said, “They wanted to hurt us so I took that pain and I gave it back to them.”
Something licked past Leon’s leg. He jumped a little, looked into the floorboard, almost expecting to see a snake, but nothing was there.
Then, he glanced up. The wind was blowing harder outside, pushing leaves off of the trees. Normally, that wouldn’t have alarmed him, but then he saw the pattern and stepped out of his car. They were all falling from trees, caught in a gusty wind, some of them smacking against his face and swirling around him, but then carrying on.
The leaves were blowing sideways, moving north towards the two schools.
Deep, deep inside herself, Shannon felt something wasn’t quite right with the world. It wasn’t just the fact that Officer Regus had come and taken her out of class and into the library, although that did play into it. It was more of a feeling she got from someone else’s fear blanketing her. It was a need to protect, and yet feeling she was powerless to protect. A sensation she was familiar with, which originated with Kaley. It traveled down their Connection, vibrating at such frequencies that it touched something deep in her mind and in her belly.
The librarian Mrs. Taylor had given her a coloring book to play with. Shannon thought this was kind of silly. A coloring book? She was nine, not four. It had a few connect-the-dot and crosswords in it, too, but she’d never really liked those.
Shannon glanced up at Officer Regus standing over by the door. She was a husky woman, a little fearful if Shannon was reading her right. Not afraid for me, she thought, not just a little bitterly. Well, maybe a little, but mostly she’s afraid she’ll have to take action to defend me from someone, and that she won’t perform. She’s afraid of failure. She’s afraid she’ll be the useless woman officer everyone said she was when she couldn’t cut it as a regular police officer.
The emotions told the story, not the thoughts.
The coloring book’s cover had the stamp PROPERTY OF CARTERSVILLE ELEMENTARY SCHOOL; Shannon had even colored this in. Wherever she found white, she colored it in. Inside, the theme was America—Uncle Sam, flags, lots of stars and stripes, all things she was sure were intended to be heavily colored in the red, white, and blue. Shannon liked red and blue, it was the white part she had a problem. It was like a void that needed to be filled, and, like nature, little Shannon Dupré abhorred a vacuum.
She didn’t like the whiteness being left white. It needed filling in. So, taking the markers she’d been given by Mrs. Taylor, Shannon flipped to the blankest of pages, one of the connect-the-dot pages. She selected a purple marker (that was her favorite) and started freestyling.
The marker drew the outline of a man. He was tall and very proud, with wide shoulders. She had no idea who this man was, but she was anxious to meet him. So she filled in the rest. As it turned out, the man was old and had a beard. Kind of like Pan Lei, from her favorite movie White Ninja Meets Shaolin Crane. Pan Lei was the White Ninja’s only friend, and the only one who knew his secret identity.
Shannon hadn’t revisited her old hero the White Ninja for some time. Lots of things had distracted her these last months. Kaley had noticed this, and had told their mother, who in turn told that lady Mrs. Krenshaw, who bounced between schools talking to the children about the bad things in their lives. Mrs. Krenshaw had asked Shannon why she didn’t like to do the things she did before, like watch White Ninja Meets Shaolin Crane, or play ninjas with her sister. “Because I don’t like the movie anymore,” she had lied. “And because Kaley is getting too old to play with me.” That part hadn’t been a lie. Kaley would play with Shannon, but because of their Connection, Shannon could feel Big Sister’s reluctance. It was almost like the reluctance their mother felt when trying to muster up the courage to talk to her daughters. Kaley wasn’t even really aware of it herself.
I’m a burden. It was a thought that came unbidden to mind, and she tried to banish it now. The thought had become stronger in recent months, and on a not-quite-unconscious level, Shannon knew it.
It turned out the man had a braided bearded, and it was brown, much unlike Pan Lei’s open and flowing white beard. Shannon decided to give him a long cloak, a purple one, and with tassels at the bottom. And a crown! Yes, he was a king, wasn’t he? Yes, a strong king, powerful and loved and capable of doing anything to save his people. A good king.
“There are no good kings,” came the whisper. “There are no good people.”
Shannon stopped coloring, and looked around the library. “You shut up,” she said. Officer Regus, near the door, turned to look at her.
“There are no good kings,” it repeated. “No good people.”
“I said shut up! You don’t get to tell me—”
“There are no good kings.”
“You leave me alone! You hear me? Leave me and Kaley alone! We don’t wanna know you!”
“Shannon?” said Officer Regus. She stepped over to her. “What is it, sweetie?”
“They won’t stop talking!”
“Who, sweetheart?”
“None of them can save you,” it said. “You know this. Police and guards and men and women and kings and laughing men.” It added, “And sister.” There was satisfaction in that last. “Yessssss, yes, yes, yesssssss. You know she cannot save you.” Then, another voice chimed in. “Stop talking to the girl, leave her to the laughing man.”
“Go away! Go away and leave us alone!”
“Shannon, sweetie, what’s the matter?” Now, Mrs. Taylor stepped out of her office to join Officer Regus.
“She can’t stop us. None of them can stop us.” Another voice said, “Stop taunting her, she might bring her sister. Leave her to the—”
“I know someone you can’t kill!” she shouted. Shannon stood up from her chair and looked around the room. “I’ll send him after you, if you don’t shut up and leave us alone!” Silence. And interest. Shannon sensed it…anticipation? “You’d better leave us alone, or I’ll send him! Ya hear? Leave us alone!”
Silence.
Then, “He can’t stop us.”
“He can, too! And he’s not afraid of you! He’s the meanest man ever and he can’t feel fear! He’s strong and mean and nobody can kill him! He doesn’t care who you are, he’ll kill you!”
Now came a thousand thousand voices.
“We cannot be killed!”
“You cannot eradicate—”
“—won’t kill us!”
“—cannot be killed by—”
“Insolent child!”
“—killherkillherkillherkillherkiller—”
“I’ll rend her flesh from her bones—”
“—killherkillherkillherkillhernownownowkillher—”
“We cannot be killed!”
“We will rise from this abyss and eat you whole!”
“—the laughing man cannot—”
“DO NOT SPEAK TO HER!”
That last voice silenced them all.
“Can to!” she screamed. “He can to kill you! He’s mean and he’s not afraid! He’s stronger than you and he’s going to kill you if you don’t leave us alone!”
“Shannon?” Officer Regus had put a hand on her shoulder, knelt to look her in the face, but Shannon wasn’t paying any attention to that. Things had begun moving all around her. She could feel them. Titanic forces pulling at her. Something split in her head. A pain like needles threaded through the back of her eyeballs and pulling. Tears came plentifully.
And she was grinning.
“He’s stronger than you, and you can’t kill him,” she whispered.
“Shannon?”
“You can’t kill the laughing man!” she screamed.
The pain stopped, and the voices cease
d. All were banished, and her world was silky calm. Shannon was breathing deeply, like she did at the end of gym class. Beside her, both Officer Regus’s and Mrs. Taylor’s lips were moving, but she didn’t hear them. Shannon heard other things. She heard the screams of the Freckle-faced girl that had mocked her earlier. She heard the fear in Laquanda Everest’s cries.
“Shannon? Shannon!” She looked at Officer Regus. “Sweetie, you need to sit down. Mrs. Taylor’s going to get you some water, okay?”
“…justwantthemtostop…”
“What?”
Shannon swallowed. “I said, ‘I just want them to stop.’ ”
“Shannon, no one’s going to hurt you. You’re safe here. Understand? You’re safe?”
She sat back down at her table, picked up a red marker. “Not if he can help it,” she said. Not too far away, Big Sister was crying. Shannon could feel it. And she didn’t care. The laughing man was right. Big Sister was weak.
At first, Kaley couldn’t believe what she was hearing. What she was feeling. If it hadn’t been for the fact that their Connection had never once broadcast a mixed signal or wrong message, she might have questioned it.
The murky water along the walls breathed in and out, in and out, in and out.
Was this…was this animosity coming from her sister? And was it really directed at her, at Big Sister? “Shannon,” she whispered. No response. Kaley looked up. Officer Bauer was standing outside the officer, arms folded and speaking seriously with Mr. Lowe, Mrs. Sanchez, and a pair of police officers. Detective Hulsey listened, at least. And he got others to listen. Somewhere out there in her web, she could sense him. She’d only been near him a handful of times, but the charm was like olfactory nerves, only more powerful, and the emotional imprint of a person more potent than any smell. Just as one could be taken back to an anniversary by the aroma of a specific bouquet of flowers, so too could she remember the particular flavor of Detective Hulsey. He was out there, not too far off, and he was concerned for them. That was a welcome feeling.