"And you have to consider that maybe you are blinded to the situation."
"And how is that?" Sam snapped.
"Think like a detective, not like her boyfriend, Sam. Look at her. I mean, look at her like a possible witness to a crime your serial is committing all over town. When you can do that, I will consider whether what you’re saying as relevant to the case we are working or a case of puppy love. Got it?" Drew's cold stare met Sam's dead on. Sam realized that Drew was right. He had to be the job for this or they were going to go nowhere fast. Glancing over at Lisa. he knew it was going to be hard to do, but for her safety, it was the best card to play. He walked back to the table and saw that Lisa was more in control of herself. He sat back down and pulled out his notepad. It was time to ask the right questions.
Lisa didn't bat an eye. She was forthright with her answers about Allison's lifestyle and who she hung around with, adding what information she knew about Allison's boyfriend, Charlie Eagen. Charlie had apparently just come in right before Lisa did to pay Allison a visit. When she collapsed, Charlie was first by her side.
"They love each other, you know," Lisa told him calmly. "Everything they do, it’s for each other. If he works overtime, it’s for her and she took on extra classes to graduate earlier, just so they could be married sooner. Why does this kind of thing happen to such a wonderful couple?" Lisa looked sadly at the napkin she had torn to shreds. Sam felt like his heart was in a wench.
"I wish I knew," he added, "Lisa, are you going to be alright?"
"Yeah," she sighed shakily. "I think I am going to hang around here and finish Allison's shift for her. I would go crazy sitting at home."
Sam nodded and got up. Putting his notepad back in his pocket, he started to walk away but stopped.
"Don't leave here alone, okay? If you need to, just wait for me. I will be here after I wrap things up at the station." He walked away before she could tell him no.
Drew went back to the station alone. He had to get with Father Donovan and do some more research, but also he had the normal Boston PD business to handle. The man had so much on his plate that it would choke anyone else, Sam thought as he and Faith walked into the isolation ward of Massachusetts General. Dr. Mathers was standing by the nurse's station looking none too pleased and Sam couldn't blame him. The doctor intercepted their approach to the desk.
"What the Hell is going on here, detectives? Now I have three comas and no answers. I know that you know something so out with it or you can leave now." The doctor was adamant but Sam wasn't in the position to explain their situation to him.
"Doc, we will tell you when we know something. Believe me, I want this stopped just as badly as you do." The sincerity in Sam’s voice softened the doctor's hard edge.
"Tell me something, anything." Dr. Mathers only had his patients on his mind. If there were anything he could do for them and these policemen were hiding it, there would be Hell to pay.
Faith looked at Sam and nodded before asking the doctor for somewhere private to talk. The doctor took them into a small conference room. There was a microwave sitting on a long table with a basket of forks and spoons, and a small refrigerator like one would find in a den. Above it was a shelf that held a coffee maker that was half empty.
"We think someone is making these people go into the comas," began Faith.
"We did the blood work. There are no drugs in the patients' systems. I don't see how anyone is making them this way," argued the Doctor.
"We don't know how they are doing it but it’s still a possibility. And there is more."
"Great," Dr. Mathers groaned.
"Whoever it is, is blackmailing the patients. If the demands aren't met, the patient, and sometimes even the loved one, dies." Dr. Mathers's face turned ashen.
"My God," Dr. Mathers gasped. "and you’re working on it, right? Are you any closer to finding this guy?"
"Sir," answered Sam. "We are doing our best, but we need to follow up with the patients or we are stuck. Now, are you going to let us in there or not?" Sam’s strong words beat down the doctor's reserve.
"No more secrets," Dr. Mathers led them back out into the hallway and down to Allison Barns's room.
Sam and Faith went in alone to find Charles on his knees by Allison's bed. They stood silently as the man finished his prayer and looked up at them. Standing, he walked over and shook their hands. It was a good handshake with callused hands that Sam could appreciate. He thought back at Chance Morgan's manicured hands and the other differences between the two men. It took Morgan facing his wife possibly dying to get him to feel for her what Charlie felt for his girlfriend every day.
"Mr. Eagen, my name is Detective Sam Wesson and this is my partner, Detective Faith Sullivan. Mind if we ask you a few questions?"
Charlie looked from the detectives to his girlfriend laying in the hospital bed and back again and sighed. "I guess. Did I do something wrong?"
"No, sir, not at all," answered Sullivan. "We just wanted to ask you about Allison. Did you notice anything different lately or maybe right before she collapsed?"
"No, nothing. She was worried about the girl she worked with, Lisa. She had come in and looked kinda shaken up, so Allison talked to her while Beverly took care of the tables. It all seemed pretty normal otherwise." Guilt again gnawed at Sam for allowing Lisa to get dragged into one of his cases.
"Did you notice anyone new around the cafe, Mr. Eagen?"
"I wouldn't have noticed. I try to stay away as much as I can when she is on duty. The owner likes to pop in unannounced and he gets mad when they talk too much to just one customer. Sometimes I come in anyway but if he shows up, I make myself scarce. I wouldn't know who comes in. I'm sorry." Charlie looked broken, like half of him was missing.
"That's quite alright. If you think of anything or just need to talk, here is where you can reach me," Faith handed him her card. They left him by Allison's bedside, staring beseechingly at her in hopes she would come back to him.
Sam had come face to face with a different reality: demons and angels existed. He had to re-think what he knew about the world around him. How many more of these creatures, if he could bring himself to think of Drew and Faith as such, had he met in his lifetime? How many of those things like he saw in the park escaped his sight and dangerously passed him by? He could see them now, but he wished with every breath he took that he would never have to lay eyes on one again. If preachers and other teachers of religion had a way of describing what these evil beings looked like, they would have no trouble converting millions to their causes.
Sam followed Lisa off the bus at State Station. She had been quiet throughout the ride from Cambridge St. and Sam was worried. She had almost left the cafe without him, being as he arrived a few minutes after her shift ended, but she did look relieved when she saw he came. Sam fell into step beside her, but she refused to look at him, and studied the ground instead. Sam stopped and took her by her elbow gently.
"Lisa, wait," he whispered as he looked down at her five foot three form. Her brown eyes were alert and yet distant. He had to break through to the Lisa that had helped him get through the crazy week he had had. "I want to apologize for what happened before. I should have seen him following us long before I did. Maybe if I had, you wouldn't have had to know what was happening and you would have been okay now."
"Do you really think it would have been better if I hadn't known? Would you have kept it from me?" She asked, appalled. "Sam Wesson! I am not a marshmallow! I can take care of myself. I couldn't think of anything but you being shot or mangled just because I lured you to the park and I felt horrible about it, but don't you think for a minute that hiding things from me will get you anywhere." Her eyes had a crisp edge that resembled her voice and she poked him in the chest, emphasizing the last few words. Sam smirked slightly, raised his eyebrows, and nodded. She had him where she wanted him and she knew it.
As they walked, instead of cutting across the park as they had before, she deliberately skimm
ed around it on the sidewalk that surrounded the open green area. Lisa had had enough of the great outdoors for one day. The area approaching Clinton Street was another testament to the historically classic city. The homes were taken from the diary pages of grande dame's and debutantes awaiting their loved ones in a war-prone budding America. As they got closer to her home, the scenery changed from the historical district to the business district. Lisa pulled her sweater tighter around her as the breeze picked up, and Sam badly wanted to put his arm around her but remembered Drew’s warning.
About three blocks in, Lisa stopped in front of a red bricked apartment building and pulled out her keys. Sam had dreaded this moment during the whole walk and hesitated about leaving her again.
"Want to come up for coffee?" Lisa offered as she unlocked the building door.
"Sure," Sam answered coolly but inside he was busting at the seams. Just a few minutes more with her was the best offer he had had all day. Lisa seemed to relax as he followed her up the stairs to the second floor. The condition of the building was impeccable. It had one of those plaques by the front door declaring it an historical building. Sam wondered if the original builder would have ever imagined it ending up as an apartment building.
She unlocked her apartment door and Sam reached out, brushing over a stray lock of hair that had covered her chestnut eyes, his fingers caressed the soft skin of her temple. As she looked up at him, restraint abandoned him and he scooped the back of her head in his palm. Leaning his six foot two frame closer, his lips brushed hers tenderly, cautiously. Warm and inviting, Lisa surprised him by kissing him back in earnest. She was beginning to think he wouldn't make a move and she refused to let this moment pass her by. Sam finally had her in his arms. He was hungry for her kisses and drank them like good Bourbon, but he wanted more. So much more. Sam reached behind him and turned the doorknob to her apartment, nearly falling into the room.
He leaned her against the wall of her entryway, lavishing warm kisses down the side of her neck. She gasped softly as his hand cupped her breast. This is what she wanted, just for Sam to love her in the ways that she had been imagining since he first came into her cafe. Blissful, she opened her eyes for a moment, and froze.
Sam stopped, he was so afraid that she had had second thoughts and he had ruined everything, making him feel like a fumbling teenager again. Her eyes were wide and staring passed him into the adjoining room. His eyes followed hers and he saw what had struck ice in her veins.
The room was dark against the pale lighting coming from the drawn Venetian blinds along one wall, but Sam could easily make out the dark silhouette of a man in a wide brimmed hat, sitting in a chair in the corner of the living room.
He didn't take his eyes off the intruder as he clutched her shoulders, "Lisa, I'm sorry about this but get downstairs, now. Call the chief." Sam shoved her gently out the door and locked it. This was between him and the monster sitting calmly in his lady's sitting room. His blood was boiling. There was nothing he wanted more at that moment than to tear his head off, obnoxious hat and all.
18
I n one smooth motion, the man in the Panama hat and trench coat turned on the lamp and smiled at Sam, exposing a full set of perfectly white teeth. He had dark wavy hair protruding from the edges of the hat he had sitting at a slight angle, and stared at him with eyes that could have been no other color than coal black. With a long Roman nose and narrow jawline, he would have fit right in in New York's Old Greco district.
"Sit down, my friend," beckoned the trespasser, indicating the couch opposite him. Sam walked closer, holding himself back from jumping this beast and finishing this once and for all. He knew if he tried, however, that if this truly was the raptor, he would be dead in moments. The best thing he could do now was to keep him busy until the chief and his partner arrived.
"I'm not your friend," Sam answered calmly as he sat down, not taking his eyes off of him. He wanted to find this thing’s weaknesses and flaws, using every cop trick in the book to come out alive.
"Now, now, detective," admonished the dark man. "We don't need animosity clouding our progress, do we?"
"What progress are you talking about?"
"Why, you and me, of course," the sound of his voice reverberated in Sam's bones.
"What about us? What do you want from me?" Sam leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, giving the monster his full attention and hoping to throw him off guard.
"I have a business proposal for you, Detective. One I think you should carefully consider." The man idly spun a small flowered candy dish in a stationary circle as if he were any other individual in a casual conversation. Sam didn’t buy into it.
"What do you have in mind?" Sam didn't know how long it would take his team to get there, but he had to stall. He had already seen that this thing could make himself vanish quite easily.
“Mutual cooperation, if you will. You are very different, detective."
"So I've been told. I don't see it."
"Of course you don't. It wouldn't be in your nature, but it is true. You have a special quality that I like. One that could make you very powerful. Or very dead. Your choice. I propose that you and I work together. With you at my side, the world would be ours." A smile crept over the man’s face, exposing all of his teeth once again.
"And why would I do something like that? Did you really think you could just come in here and tempt me to join you? You're crazier than I thought." Sam didn't flinch. He had faced down men like this, or at least mortal men like this, often enough to know when they didn't have all of their cards on the table, and this was one of those times.
"Because the alternative could mean your life, Detective Wesson," the man stated flatly, "or the life of your lady friend. I showed you how close to her I can get with the girl, didn't I? Don't you realize that your friends are going to try to tempt you to join forces with them, as well? Nothing is for free. They know your capabilities just as I do and they want to exploit them."
"I work with them voluntarily. What you are asking doesn't sound like anything would be my choice." Sam spoke evenly, absorbing the beast’s words. Drew had told him back at the bar that this was how it all worked. Good and evil vying for souls through temptation. Now, he was hearing it from the other side of the fence and it sounded much the same. This creature was trying to wedge a gap between him and his friends to create distrust. "I refuse to do anything that isn't my choice."
"And what is your choice, Detective?"
"I choose to stick with the path I'm already on," Sam replied. He knew he was running out of time before his people showed. Either that, or this thing would kill him. His stone was already carved out. "and, just so you'll know, I plan on taking down as many of your kind as I can."
The man's jaw ticked and anger flashed briefly in his eyes at Sam’s refusal. However, the man remained calm.
"You're pretty powerful yourself," Sam feigned admiration. "You can just take and kill at your disposal, but instead you are playing games. Why is that?"
"Games? You mean the comas," he answered amiably. "Call it boredom, if you wish, but I simply chose to change my method of operation, to coin one of your phrases. Humans are so fragile, but they are also highly dangerous. It can be extremely entertaining to witness the destruction these small mortals can wrought upon themselves and the world, just by changing the status quo for them."
"You forget. I am one of those humans," Sam reminded him.
The man laughed deeply. "You haven't been one of them in a long time. I would have hoped you would have awakened to that by now, but alas," he shrugged. "expectations can always be off by mere fractions of time."
"Look, I'm tired of your games. Where do you have these stolen souls?" Sam stared at the demon as if willing him to be honest. In return, the beast leaned forward and looked deep into Sam's eyes.
"Do you really want to know?"
Sam had scarcely the time to register the intense fascination in the demon's eyes when he got his a
nswer.
Sam dropped heavily onto jagged, glass-like rock from an unknown height. It took him a moment to let it register that he was no longer in Lisa's living room, but in some godforsaken place straight out of nightmares. The blackened ground crunched under his feet as he tried to stand up. Every bone in his body hurt. He looked up at a non-existent sky where no light penetrated the haze in the air that reeked of sulfur. Parts of the ground glowed as if it were molten.
His hands were grazed and sliced from when he fell, but from where? Continuously he took in his surroundings. Sweat drenched his shirt and began draining down his calves. When he was in Saudi Arabia, he remembered dropping off an Army Air transport onto the scorching desert sands during a Taliban compound raid, but it wasn't this hot and he didn't hurt after landing. Not like this. Then again, he was not twenty anymore, either.
Visibility was limited to only a few feet, so Sam started walking. The sounds he thought he heard as the wind, even though the air failed to move, slowly became distinct screams. He tried to ignore them at first, but they continued to grow louder. There were hundreds of vague shapes on the edge of his vision. People falling, crashing into each other as if they were blind or unaware there were anyone else around. Sam tried to grab an arm as one got close to him but his hand slid through. This monster wasn't just taking a few souls here and there. He had taken thousands of them. They were all there. Lost. Alone. Tormented. Many of them had bloody limbs and faces from whatever they had faced since being so brutally brought here. The sight of the tortured was horrendous.
Sam felt more than heard the sobs coming from a few feet away from him. He followed the sound to a formation of rocks that looked like black glass and granite stabbing up from the ground. There was a small, crying child. Her knees were bloodied and she clutched them close with her face buried behind them. She glanced up and froze when she spotted him. He walked toward her slowly, with his hand extended. He didn't seem that far from her but his steps did not seem to be bringing him much closer.
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