Hallowed Horror

by Mark Tufo

  Justin sighed. “Ruby, make those coffees to go please.” He looked at Eckerson. “We got another one, buddy. It’s going to be a long night.”

  “I’m calling Jon.”

  “Call Denise, too,” Justin said. Turning back to the phone he said, “Brenda, send the address to my cruiser. Keep this off the radio if you can. We’ve got enough people asking questions just from scanner listeners. Scott wants us to keep a lid on this.”

  “That’s why I 21’d you.” She referred to the ‘ten’ code for phone calls. “Do your best to keep this off the radio.”

  “Call the ME’s office and get him over there.”

  “On it.” She hung up.

  Ruby walked out with two coffees and a bag full of sandwiches. “Sorry, I heard part of your conversation, Justin. I had you some sandwiches made in case it’s another long night, sweetie.”

  “Thanks, Ruby.” He started out the door.

  “Tell your momma I said hi,” she called.

  “I will!”

  The two officers rolled up on the scene next to the movie theater and Eckerson was glad he didn’t eat the sandwich before they arrived. The coffee was threatening to come back up as he walked down the alley and the smell of blood carried on the breeze toward him. With his sidearm drawn and his flashlight sweeping side to side, he checked every shadow, every nook, every cranny until a figure stepped out from behind a Dumpster, covered in blood.

  He swung his light and sidearm on it instantly and ordered, “Let me see your hands, now!”

  The figure turned slowly toward him and it was only then that Jeff realized the only part of the figure not covered in blood was the eyes. He yelled again, “Show me your hands!” and watched in horror as the figure moved slowly, raising its arms in the air. His eyes followed up along the arms and saw that whoever it was, there was something in their hands. “Empty your hands, empty them now!”

  Justin was alongside him, moving closer, focusing the beam of his flashlight on the figure as it slowly lowered its hands and placed something on the ground then raised its hands again. The figure collapsed to its knees then fell on its face. Justin rushed in and gingerly placed handcuffs on it. The blood-covered figure moaned as he put his knee on its back and he had the distinct feeling that it was female. He glanced to the objects on the ground and noticed a blood covered cell phone and a handgun.

  “GUN!” he yelled and Jeff ran up and kicked it to the side.

  “Where the hell did all this blood come from?” he asked as Justin got up and realized it had soaked into the knee of his uniform.

  Eckerson scanned the area with his flashlight. “I think I found part of it.” He pointed with his light.

  Justin turned to follow the beam of Jeff’s light and nearly threw up. Trussed to the chain link fence of the alleyway next to the movie theater were the remains of two men, tied upside down in a spread eagle position, their entrails hanging from their midsection, huge strips of flesh missing from their bodies. Blood was painted all over the area and ran down along the walls in rivulets, coagulating in large jellied globs.

  Justin’s eyes focused on the area missing on the two victims and it caused a lump in his throat and his groin to hurt. “Where’s their junk?”

  Eckerson focused his beam on where the victim’s genitals should have been but saw only the bloody cavity opening into their bodies. It appeared as if a huge scooper had scraped away their male identities, ripping and tearing the fleshy organs from their bodies.

  “I-it attacked them,” a raspy voice said from behind them. Both deputies turned to stare at the bloody body lying on the ground behind them. The woman had rolled to her side and was staring at them, Justin’s flashlight reflecting the fear in her eyes.

  “What happened?” Zimmer asked, holding the light in her eyes.

  “I was c-coming out of my office. They were waiting for me. T-To rob me.” Her voice cracking. “Then one of th-them said th-that they should have a little fun with me too.” Justin could see her tears streaking the blood.

  The woman laid her head down and began to sob.

  “What happened then?” he asked.

  She cried softly and didn’t respond. He wanted so badly to scream at her, to ask what the hell could have done something like this, but instead, he walked closer and bent down beside her.

  “Ma’am? What happened next? Why did you have a gun?”

  She looked up at him and sniffled. “I have a permit. Because I carry the till from the theater at night. I’m the manager,” she responded quietly, her eyes starting to gloss over from shock. “The bigger one, he smelled of alcohol. He held me against the wall and the other one took the money. The bigger guy, he put his hand places…it was so horrible.”

  “I understand, ma’am, I really do, but I need to know what did this. Was it some kind of animal?”

  She shook her head, her eyes boring into his. “No. It was the wind,” she said, her eyes getting wider. “The wind blew and…and it spoke. It whispered to him. It said, ‘don’t’ but he did. Then it got them both.” Her breathing threatened to become hyperventilation.

  “Ma’am, I don’t understand. What did this?” Justin asked.

  “Aren’t you listening?” she screamed. “The wind did it! It was a smoke in the wind. It took the shape of a man and it just…it just tore them to shreds. It blew their innards OUT! All over me!”

  “Why did you have your gun out when we came?” Eckerson asked.

  “I didn’t know if it would stop with them.” Her voice hitched as she spoke. “I didn’t know what else to do.” Her breathing was coming in short pants now. “I shot it three times. It didn’t even slow down. It just kept tearing into them, ripping them to pieces.”

  Justin looked at Jeff and raised an eyebrow. He shook his head. “Sounds like the same kind of…story that we’ve already heard.”

  “No.” Eckerson crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not buying it.”

  They saw the reflection of red and blue LED lights bounce off the walls of the alleyway, and in a moment saw the silhouette of Denise Burress coming down the alley.

  “We have one for you.” Justin indicated the suspect on the ground. “Female, possible victim. ID from her wallet has her as Nancy Adams. Claims she’s the manager of—”

  “Oh, my God,” Denise interrupted. “I know her.”

  “You do?” Jeff asked.

  “Yes, I do.” Denise whispered. “We went to high school together. She’s the manager of the theater here. She’s good people, guys.”

  “That bloody lump on the ground is her,” Justin said. “I think.”

  “Oh no,” Denise choked.

  “It’s not her blood,” he added. “Take her to the station, get her cleaned up, get a formal statement. And here,” he handed her the pistol she had dropped on the ground, “have this ballistic tested. Just in case.” He glanced back at the bodies and knew it had nothing to do with what happened here tonight, but wanted to cover all of his bases. “Inform her that we’ll hold on to it until the weapon is cleared in this case, then assure her that she’ll get it back.”

  “Jeff, will you escort her to my cruiser while I get a blanket or something to wrap around her? I don’t want to get that all over the inside of my cruiser.”

  “Got it.”

  He helped the woman to her feet and slowly walked her to the end of the alleyway. She nearly burst into tears when she saw Denise. They wrapped an Army surplus wool blanket around her and helped her into the police car. Once inside, Denise removed the handcuffs and drove her back to the sheriff’s office.

  Foo pulled his Expedition in just as Denise was pulling out. “What’s up?”

  “Chinese takeout at the end of the alley,” Jeff teased. “A little on the undercooked side.”

  “Really? Somebody mutilate a cat?” He walked to the end of the alley and studied the scene. Eckerson came up behind him and waited.

  “What do you see?” he asked.

  “No avenue of
escape.”

  “What’s that?” Eckerson asked.

  “Look. They eviscerated the victims and removed their genitals.” He glanced around at the Dumpsters and pointed with his flashlight. “There’s a chance we may find them in one of the Dumpsters, but there’s no blood on the outside, so whoever did it was clean when they opened them. Possible they had the foresight to open it first, then just used an elbow or something to slam the lid on the way out. But…no footprints other than the woman Denise escorted out.” He pointed to the ground. “Whoever did this was either levitating or flying or…” he looked above the scene, “…dangling from the roof. And I don’t see any ropes.”

  “So you’re saying we have a perp who can fly?”

  “No. I’m saying we have a perp who is a neat freak and leaves no evidence. Wait. I spoke too soon. Shell casings, there.” He pointed.

  “Those are from the manager who claims to have fired at the perp,” Justin said from behind them both.

  “Was he wounded?” Jon asked.

  “Claims she hit him dead center.” Zimmer said expectantly. “But he didn’t go down.”

  “Ballistic vest. Probably with plates.” Jon continued to study the scene. “With all of the military surplus available these days, just about anybody can buy that stuff.” He stood up and cocked his head. “Any idea who these two turds are?”

  “Purse snatchers and rapists,” Eckerson said. “No ID on the remains just yet.”

  “Humph,” Jon snorted. “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer bunch then in my opinion. Saved the taxpayers the expense of a trial.”

  Justin stared at Eckerson. “Jesus, didn’t take long for you to rub off on the rookie, did it?”

  “What?” Jeff shrugged. “I just teased him a bit.”

  “About what?”

  “Wrecking cars and being Asian,” Jon said as he walked past the two.

  “Where are you going?” Jeff asked.

  “Well while you two do make wonderful company, somebody around here needs to actually do some police work. I’m going to tape off the entrance, photograph the scene and maybe collect the shell casings before the ME gets here. Anybody care to join me?”

  Justin and Jeff stared at each other and smiled. “Kids these days,” Jeff said.

  9

  “Ingram, you bastard!” Miller growled into the phone.

  Stan pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the receiver. “What are you talking about, Jerrod?”

  “You know damn good and well what I’m talking about! You lost that bet fair and square and then you send some hired goons to try to steal it all back. I ought to kick your butt up between your shoulder blades!”

  Stan Ingram stared at the phone and shook his head, “Honestly, Jerrod, I think you’ve lost your damned mind. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Like hell you don’t! You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Miller clenched his teeth so hard his head hurt.

  “I can’t believe you’d wake me for something like this,” he sighed. “Jerrod, if I wanted anything in your collection, I know exactly how to get it, and I wouldn’t stoop to stealing. You’ve wanted the Candy Apple Pump Station so long that all I’d have to do is wave it under your nose and you’d have handed your entire collection over to me with your dick hanging out just for the chance to buy that place.” He paused and listened to the silence. “I’ve gone along with you and your games because it was FUN. Do you really think I gave two tosses about this Wild West bullshit?”

  Jerrod sat back in his leather chair as the realization hit him that his longtime friend, business rival and all-time favorite person to try to screw over had actually been allowing it to happen…because he thought it was ‘fun’. Too many thoughts were running through his mind for any one of them to be able to stop long enough to take root.

  “So, you weren’t the one to break into my office and try to steal from my collection?”

  Stan laughed on the other end of the line. “Why would I do that? Like I said, if I wanted any of that old junk, I know exactly how to get it from you.”

  Jerrod slumped at his desk while he tried to think. “If it weren’t you, then who?”

  “I have no idea. But you might look at who you’ve pissed off lately. Maybe they have an axe to grind and thought that would be the easiest way to hurt you?” Stan offered. “It’s not like anything else means anything to you anymore. You’ve almost become obsessed with that damned collection, then all of a sudden you quit with it.”

  “Well, only because I finished. I’d won what I set out to do,” Miller explained, his mind still spinning.

  “Then I suggest you look at your list of enemies.” He paused. “Then again, that list may be awfully long…”

  *****

  Casper slipped another chunk of white stuff into his mouth when he thought Roger wasn’t looking. His nerves were shot from breaking into Miller’s ranch and he just knew that somebody had seen Roger driving like a bat out of hell away from there.

  The two stopped at the Gas-N-Go for another twelve-pack of beer and went to their favorite watering hole to blow up some fish. As Roger pushed the stolen canoe out onto the water, Casper was doing his best not to flip out on him.

  “Rog, what are we gonna do?” He nervously bit at his fingernails. “I know that little Mexican gal that works there had to have seen us cutting across his backyard.”

  “Shut up, Casper,” Roger warned as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and lit the fuse on the dynamite. He shook the lit piece at him, “Nobody seen nothing, okay?” He tossed it over the edge with a plop and waited for the thunderous ‘whump’ from below and the tiny bubbles that accompanied it.

  Within moments the stunned or dead fish floated to the surface, their silvery bodies reflecting in the moonlight. He netted them, scooping them to dump into the five-gallon bucket in the canoe so that they could clean them later. “Nobody seen us or we’d be in jail, got it?”

  “But what if they did?”

  “Miller can’t say nothing, ‘cuz if he does, then we threaten to rat him on…what did he call it? ‘Gettin’ stolen goods’? Yeah. That was it. So he’s just as guilty as we are. Maybe even more so, ‘cuz he’s the one that told us to go dig all that shit up, ain’t he?”

  “Well, he didn’t exactly tell us to, he just said he’d buy it.” Casper scratched nervously at his arms.

  “Well he didn’t exactly…” Roger mocked, “Listen, shithead, if we get pinched, I don’t care if they beat you within an inch of your miserable life, you tell them that Miller told us to, got it?” he yelled. “‘Cuz they’ll put us both in the same damn cell, and I will beat you, you hear me?”

  Casper winced and withdrew further in the canoe, rocking it wildly. “I ain’t gonna forget, Roger. I promise. But why would we tell anybody that?”

  “I’m just saying, IF we get busted, we pin it all on Miller. Maybe we can work a deal with the cops to cut us loose if we tell them he made us do it.” Roger smiled at him. “After all, you and me? We’re just employees of the great Jerrod Miller, ain’t we?”

  Casper thought about what Roger said. “Yeah,” he said as he thought about it longer. “Yeah, you’re right. We are employees. He’s the boss, right?” Casper smiled at Roger. He saw that Roger was glaring at him, obviously not happy. “I mean, YOU’RE the boss, Roger, but Mr. Miller, he’s both of our bosses. At our jobs. That’s what I mean.”

  “Yeah…that’s what you mean. Row us back, you little fucker, before I get mad.”

  “Um, Roger?” Casper asked.

  “What now, shit stain?”

  “Why would Miller have us break into his own place?” he asked carefully.

  Roger sat there a minute and shook his head. “How the fuck should I know? I don’t ask questions, I just do what the man tells me. Maybe it was so he could collect insurance on what we take? Why would he have us dig up a bunch of dead bodies in an old ghost town?” He smiled. “Sounds good enough to me, don’
t it to you?”

  Casper grinned, flashing his rotten teeth. “I’m glad you do all the thinking, Rog. I never woulda thunk of that.”

  “Just row the boat. You gotta clean these fish so we can eat tonight.”

  *****

  Buffy Hardin walked quickly toward her apartment complex, her keys jangling in one hand, a bag of groceries in the other. After a long day as a paralegal at a local law office, she was eager to get home, kick off her shoes, feed her cat, and collapse in bed. She didn’t always have to keep such long hours, but her bosses had a huge case that they were preparing and it was ‘all hands on deck’ these last few nights as everyone prepared to do battle with the high dollar Dallas lawyers with their Armani suits and $1,000 Italian loafers and the small law firm wanted to make sure that nobody was unprepared.

  She juggled the files to keep them from slipping and tried not to spill her groceries as she approached the entryway to her apartment building. The light in the breezeway was out again and she paused as she peered into the darkness. She could swear that she could see movement deep in the darkness, but chuckled to herself and tried to screw up her bravery as she stepped into the breezeway.

  “I’m going to have to talk to the building super again about keeping those bulbs replaced,” she said aloud as she stepped into the darkness.

  She could hear her heels clack against the concrete and echo against the brick and stone walls that made up the exterior of the apartments. It was times like these that made her wish that she had the opportunity to have taken an apartment in the front, but she chose one in the back because she feared that a forward apartment would make it easier for peeping Toms…or worse, headlights from cars coming and going to keep her awake at night.

  While it was true that her rearward apartment gave her more peace and quiet, times like this caused an unnatural rise in her blood pressure. She approached her door and started to sigh with relief. She juggled her grocery bag again and had just inserted her key into the door when rough hands covered her mouth and her waist at the same time, pulling her away from her door and deeper into the din of the breezeway.