Drew opened his desk drawer and laid his hand on the 9mm that Sam would have received if it were a normal world. He had switched guns at the firing range for when Sam came to claim it. Father Donovan had blessed the bullets personally. Drew couldn't do much other than a blessing to the gun as far as holy water was concerned since Sam would clean it regularly, but the bullets were a necessity. They didn't always work in the way they wanted but using these blessed objects had saved not only his, but Faith's ass several times.
Closing the drawer, he stared at the empty coffee cup by his phone. He dialed Massachusetts General and asked for Dr. Mathers. There were too many cases for any of them to pass off as coincidence and the chief knew the doctor had to take his call.
"This is Dr. Mathers," the voice on the other line announced.
"Dr. Mathers, this is Chief Shafer of the Boston PD."
"Yes, Chief Shafer. I was hoping you would call. I wanted to talk to you about these comas." Dr. Mathers sounded frustrated and the chief couldn't blame him. The situation was grim.
"I figured that you would. I have a few questions myself. Do you remember a patient by the name of Margaret Parsons?"
"Parsons? Yes, that was Dr. Wallace's patient. One of the advanced cases. Her organs began shutting down and she died of renal failure. It was odd." Dr. Mathers sounded confused.
"How so?"
"Dr. Wallace had said that she was weakening, but her death came suddenly. She was comatose for three days."
"I see." She didn't last the five days that the others had done. This proved that her death, and her husband's, were brought on at the same time. Perhaps the husband refused to give in to the blackmail, whatever it had been, and ticked off the raptor somehow.
"Chief Shafer, what is going on? I have patients dying here, and I just put Mrs. Morgan on life support."
"I wish I knew for sure, doctor. When I do, I will let you know." The chief hung up the phone. Immediately, it began to ring. "Chief Shafer."
"Yeah, Chief, this is Sgt. Macinah. There is a woman on the line that says that Detective Wesson asked her to call. Says its important."
"Patch her through." Drew waited the few moments, he had a bad feeling about this.
"Is this Chief Shafer?" asked a soft female voice, anxiously.
"Yes, this is Shafer. Who's calling?"
"Chief Shafer, my name is Lisa Reynolds and I just left Sam at Union Park. I think he's in trouble." The fear and concern in her voice was apparent.
"What kind of trouble?"
"He said we were being followed. I didn't see anyone but he was sure. He said to tell you that he had a situation and that you would understand." The hair on Drew's arms stood straight up and the dreaded chill he felt was menacing.
"Yes, ma'am. Thanks for letting me know. Are you safe now?
"Yeah, I am going back to the cafe where I work. He said not to go home. Is he going to be alright?" She was afraid for him and if Drew was right, she had every reason to be.
"Yes, ma'am. He will be fine. I will send backup right now." Drew hung up the phone and dialed Faith.
Shards of granite and coal scrape against Sally’s open cuts. The hot breath of the beast dug into her skin and shirt as it dragged her across the soot filled soil. She had long stopped trying to struggle out of its maw and waited for the inevitable. It would kill her and if she was lucky, death would come quickly.
The bone in her leg was sticking out as it dragged her, opening the wound further. She had gone past the pain and simply waited for it to end. Why it had not killed her yet, she didn't know. As it pulled her along the ground, it passed others that looked like it. Some simply watched as it paraded passed with its prize in its jaws. Others challenged it and attempted to grab her to no avail.
She was in Hell. She had to be. Sally was taught what Hell would be like since her childhood and this was the closest thing she could see to being it. Why was she here? Obviously, she had died, she thought. Somehow, she had not been the person she had thought herself to be and wasn't accepted in Paradise. It had to be true for what other reason would she be here instead of in Boston with her mother?
Her mother. She remembered. She was having lunch with her mother. She wasn't a bad person. Motivated by memories of her mother's love, Sally began twisting and wrenching herself from the monster’s jaws. It stopped walking to get a better grip on her.
As its hold loosened, she tore herself free and scrambled in a space between rocks. It was close behind her, its claws grazing against her foot as she hunkered deeper within her makeshift sanctuary, she was just out of its reach. Grasping and clawing in a maddening frenzy, it wasn't going to let go of its toy easily. She watched as it left the cleft opening, pacing along the side of the rock formations. The deep cracks in the rock allowed him to watch her as he grew angry. The rocks shook as the beast slammed its head against the granite barrier between it and her. Repeatedly, it charged, causing pieces of stone to crumble down on her.
Cracking, the rock split and the wall fell toward her. She leaned back with scarcely room to move. The beast didn't get the results it had wanted, invariably enclosing her in a cave of his own making. He clawed violently at the stone, but could not budge it. Several minutes, perhaps an hour, passed until the monster gave up and left her trapped within the stone prison.
16
T he man arrogantly leaned against the iron posts of the swing set. Even from this distance, Sam could see the black eyes baring down on him. Angel, demon or human, Sam didn't care. He looked human enough to him and he had thoroughly pissed the detective off. Ignoring the winds and the slight spitting of sprinkles, Sam deliberately strode towards the stalker. The man in the hat never moved. His coat slapped around his ankles and the brim of his hat quivered in the wind. Lightening flashed from somewhere in the distance and thunder roiled like a lower-earth growl. Sam ignored it all. He thought of the fear that that man had put in Lisa's eyes and wanted him to go down as hard and as fast as possible. The growling intensified and Sam realized that it wasn't thunder, but could not tell where it was coming from. His anger was letting his imagination run wild. The growling gradually grew louder until he could also hear a deep breathing over the winds that were picking up. Sam slowed, but his target was still in sight, standing there like he was waiting for him. If this guy wanted a fight, he was going to get one.
Sam sensed movement in front of him, but he couldn't quite make it out. The steady rain was hitting something solid, though nothing that he could see. Something crashed across Sam's path and rolled just a few yards away. It was Faith. She had knocked something out of the way in front of him with such speed, Sam hadn't realized what was happening until he saw her skidding across the mud. She was wrestling with what seemed like nothing but Sam could see the water running off a solid surface. Sam drew his weapon and pointed it first at the scuffle that was going on in front of him and then at the man in the hat. He was gone. It was a trap.
Sam re-aimed at Faith and this...thing, now covered in mud. It was impossible. Twice the size of the young detective, whatever this was had arms as round as Sam's legs and they ended in claws that resembled tree limbs. He couldn't shoot it without risking hitting Faith so he tried to intervene. He got close, but hit something solid. Before he could react, Sam was lifted off his feet. He grasped at the invisible binds, but it was like clawing at rock. The gun was still in his hand, and although he doubted that anything he could do would harm it, he fired twice into the rain-washed form. With a shriek that could have broken glass, Sam was dropped unceremoniously to the ground. Trying to recapture his breath, he scrambled over to where Faith was striking at her opponent. It was now muddied and easier to see. Sam aimed and pulled off three 9mm rounds into the thing's midsection and watched it collapse in a wet heap in front of his partner.
"Thanks," Faith said breathlessly and smiled. Sam stood up shaking but nodded, looking at the now lifeless form. The rain was already washing away the mud, but as he got closer, he realized he couldn't se
e it any longer. Sam looked questionably at Faith. She stayed silent, letting what had just happened sink in. Taking a personal inventory of herself, she found that she got out lucky with just a few bruises and a cut over her left eye. Sam didn't feel so lucky. He was sure he had lost years off his life when he was held ten feet off the ground by absolutely nothing.
"You okay?" He asked finally.
"I'll live," she shrugged. "Ya did pretty good for y'rself for a rookie demon hunter." The lilt in Faith's voice seemed out of place in the darkness surrounding them.
"You weren't shitting me about all this demon stuff, were you? It’s all real." Sam looked at Faith like she had all the answers and she wished that she did.
"Yeah, it’s all real, Sam." Something rushed past Sam on his right, the rain pelting off a large object only feet away. Faith dove between it and Sam and it pushed him down with her.
Reality changed for Sam. The rain revealed a blackened mass of limbs and clashing teeth. Faith pulled out a knife as long as her forearm and slashed upward over and over again in an attempt to ward it off.
It wasn’t the Faith Sam knew . An ethereal aura of light pulsed around her and Sam swore he could see wings that looked like molten silver and soft feathers unfurl and slash at the beast with a ferocity that made him shudder. An angel. Damn.
Sam couldn't shoot his weapon with the thing pushing so closely against his partner. Helplessly, he watched as she sliced into the monster with her blade. It reached back and backhanded her hard against the face and she fell in a heap, dropping her knife. Sam quickly grabbed her knife and stabbed, pushing the blade into the beast's skull and through its lower jaw. It dropped soundlessly.
Sam hurried to Faith's side and lifted her head. He lowered his ear to her face and felt her breathing. She was alive. He gently shook her shoulders and patted her cheek.
"Faith, come on, girl, wake up." Her eyelids fluttered and her breath hitched as she inhaled. Sam helped her sit up and she put her head between her knees. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the chief. It only had to ring once.
"Chief Shafer."
"Drew, we need you here at Union Park." Sam rubbed Faith's arms, feeling helpless.
"What's the situation?"
"Faith got the Hell knocked out of her but I think we're alive. Man, we have to talk."
"I can just imagine. I'm on my way."
Sam helped Faith slowly to her feet and walked her over to a covered picnic table. Sitting down, she laid her head on her hands for several minutes. He was going to give her all the time she needed. The blow she took should have torn her head off her shoulders. She would have at least one nasty bruise in the morning. She winced as she started to lift her head.
"Take it slow." He was worried. She looked so small and fragile but the battle he just witnessed belied her appearance. Her hair was plastered down with the rain and mud, and it seemed to weave along the thin blood trails on her face.
"I'm okay," she said hoarsely.
"That was a demon?" Faith nodded painfully.
"We call those reavers. They like to travel in packs, but they don't act on their own. They love to follow orders, though." She carefully moved her head from side to side.
"I think I know who did the ordering. At least I saw him. He looked human to me."
"Humph. Human nothing. Raptors are shape-shifters." Faith looked angry and her rolling words emphasized that.
"Wait a minute," Sam demanded. "That was the raptor? It was a man! I saw him."
"Shape...shifter," Faith repeated slowly. "Sam, they can take whatever form they want. Trust me on that." Exhausted, she brushed her hair away from her face, revealing a new gash on her cheekbone and another along her jawline joined the one on her eye. Nothing a couple of stitches wouldn't fix, but frightening to see on someone with a childlike face.
"How long have you been doing that?" Sam asked carefully, not sure if he really wanted the answer, considering the age of the chief and the priest.
"Fighting demons? I have seen them all my life. I guess that makes me different from the others."
"How did you get with the chief, though?"
"Father Donovan brought me to him when my mom died. He had been looking after us ever since my dad left to go back to Ireland."
"Sorry, didn't know about your folks."
"Don't worry about it. They split on good terms. The padre helped a lot. Not just with me. My mom had the sight and thought she was the cause for my...problems." Faith shook her head.
"The sight? Like a psychic?" Sam never put much faith in psychics but after the day he was having, anything was possible.
"Ya, she thought I saw the darks because she was who she was. The darks are what I called the demons. I didn't know what they were until after I moved in with the chief and he and Father Donovan explained everything to me."
"How old were you?"
"I was fifteen. I came home and found her. Father Donovan took me from there to the chief's house. Of course, he wasn't the chief back then. He was just a detective like you and me." Sam looked straight ahead, trying to focus.
"The chief raised you? I know I am asking a million questions, but I have to know. Why did I see that thing? And you." A strange look came over Sam’s face.
"You saw that, huh? Guess the chief was right. There has to be something about you that makes you different."
"I'm no different from anyone else. That’s not modesty, just common sense. You were amazing. I still don't understand how you were able to fight with those things and I couldn't even stun them."
"You mean because of my size?" She laughed softly. "There is something about us, me and the chief and the padre. When we touch them, it makes them equal to us. Or vice versa. I'm not sure, but it’s like fighting myself." She tried to lift her arm and winced, grabbing her shoulder.
"Take it easy, are you alright?" Sam implored. She smiled wanly and nodded.
"I should have known that one you injured would come back with a vengeance. I was careless."
"That last one was the one I shot? Two shots at point blank range and it came on that strong? Shit! I should have emptied the magazine on it."
"There are a lot of should-haves being thrown around, but the point that is important is being ignored." Drew Shafer stood just outside of the pavilion, his hands in his pockets. The rain had stopped. He walked up to the two detectives and started looking Faith over carefully. He eyed Sam with apprehension.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"I'm good enough. She took a bigger hit than I ever took as a linebacker."
"That's not saying much," Drew jested dryly. Sam looked at him with good humor. "Your friend said she went back to the cafe. Thought you might want to know she's okay." The look of relief on Sam's face confirmed Drew's suspicions.
"Thanks," he replied. "I had better call her."
"Yeah, she was pretty shaken up. I'll get Faith back to my house and patch her up.”
"Shouldn't she see a doctor?" Sam asked, his phone in hand.
"It wouldn't do us much good in our fight if we show up at the ER with injuries like this without a car wreck to report or something, would it?" Drew asked. Sam thought for a moment and agreed. It would be difficult to explain.
Sam dialed the cafe. After several rings, she answered.
"Tilted Cup." Lisa sounded off.
"Lisa? This is Sam. Are you okay? You sound like you've been crying."
"Oh, Sam, it’s horrible." Sam felt like a heel, leaving her to worry.
"It's okay, I'm not hurt. The guy got away though."
"No, Sam. That's not it. I mean I am glad you’re alright, but Sam," she paused. "One of my girls here…she passed out. They can't wake her up! Oh my God, Sam!"
"Lisa, slow down, tell me what's happening." Drew’s ears perked up at the tone of Sam’s voice.
When Sam hung up, his eyes were hard and his mouth was a nearly invisible thin white line. Drew and Faith waited silently for Sam to either tell them what was wron
g or to blow up. Either way, they both had a feeling that they were going to be a part of whatever was happening.
"I'm afraid to say this but," Sam absently slipped the phone back in his coat pocket. "I think we have another victim. This time it’s personal."
17
D rew regretted having to leave Faith, but her injuries would be difficult to explain to the patrons at the cafe and might in actuality upset the situation more. She protested but in the end, she gave in and allowed the padre to lead her by her arm back into the safety of the old church. She was in good hands. He and Sam arrived at the Tilted Cup as the EMT's were wheeling a young blonde girl out to an awaiting ambulance. A young man was hanging onto the girl's hand despite the medics’ protests. Persistently, he stayed at the girl's side as they loaded her in. Drew followed as Sam hurried into the cafe in search of Lisa. She was at the center table with an older waitress, who had an arm around her shoulder. Sam sat across from her and took her hand. When she looked up, her eyes were swollen and red.
"Oh, Sam, I thought she died. She wasn't breathing." Lisa sobbed.
"She was wiping down the counter and talking to Lisa after she surprised us by coming in," explained the comforting waitress. Beverly, according to her name tag. "She was trying to cheer her up and just dropped. We couldn't see her breathing, but there was a pulse. At least that’s what the young man in the ambulance said."
Lisa's hands shook in Sam’s grasp as Beverly spoke. Drew laid his hand on Sam’s shoulder and nodded towards the door. Walking a few steps back and out of earshot, Drew pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
"We can't be sure if this is connected to our case."
"But what if it is?" Sam interjected. "We have to consider it."
Into the Breach Page 10