13 Degrees of Separation

by Hechtl, Chris

  An answering roar of challenge came from ahead of him. It was long, a hunting roar from deep in a gut, deep in the past. Even he, a predator shivered, there was a hint of rage and cunning in the upper register of that voice. The voice roared again, this time there was a hint of laughter in it. That infuriated him more. To the killer this was all a fun game, he thought. He was using the various structures around to reflect his voice, bouncing it around to disorient Nohar.

  He heard a human female scream, and then a gloating laugh. He could hear sobbing so he headed cautiously in that direction. He peeked around a corner to find a woman sprawled on her rear, skirt up over her head wailing. A carpet was in front of her. She had soiled white granny panties on. She peeled the skirt off from over her head to peek, saw Nohar rounding the corner and covered her head, wailing again.

  “Oh shut up lady! I'm one of the good guys!” Nohar snarled in passing.

  He heard someone running and got around a blocking chimney in time to see a Neocat leap. He swore, trying to get a shot off, but not having a clear shot he hesitated. He rushed to the side and looked, the bastard had jumped to a nearby rooftop five meters away.

  “Next building!” Nohar snarled over his shoulder. He noted the power lines strung between the buildings, them and then clothes lines. “This is such a bad idea,” he said, stepping back, holstering Matilda and then dropping into all fours for a run. He got to the edge and screamed, going over it in a leap for his life.

  His clawed hands caught the ledge, he'd barely made it. His back paws dug into the brick, finding holes in the mortar for purchase he pushed himself up and over and into a roll. “I am so getting too old for this,” he muttered. He looked back to the cops. They were scratching their heads on the opposite rooftop. He pointed north. One saw him pointing and nodded, turning to the side to yell at someone bellow. Nohar didn't bother to look, he stayed on the hunt.

  He tried to scent the bastard out in the nest of pipes, wires, brick chimneys, and other things. It was a maze, a maze with mines of glass skylights and other things. He kept low, looking. All he could smell was Magnum's damn cologne though.

  He found tracks, claw marks where the killer had run with his claws out. He followed them to another ledge. This one dropped to a building a story below. He saw a predator there in the dark, golden eyes turned to look over his shoulder briefly. He snarled and stepped back to run once more.

  He made the leap, but in his role he collided with a vent pipe and then the edge of a chimney. He got up a bit slower this time and oriented. He heard a howl of laughter and snarled, orienting on it. “Stupid,” he growled. He followed the sound.

  He noted the smell again, he realized the bastard was using it to cover his tracks. But in doing so he was giving something else to Nohar to track.

  This time when he heard the bastard leap he stopped and oriented on the buildings around them. He frowned, there was only one he could leap to, and it was surrounded on 3 sides including this one by taller buildings. “Gotcha,” he growled. “north east! Towards the Open Air Market!” He roared and then coughed. He heard the distant sound of breaking glass. He shook his good arm as he checked over the side. Indeed, the killer was on the other rooftop in the shadows. He could barely make him out in the dying light. The sun was down, he had but minutes to get him. He picked his landing spot and then backed up for his run.

  When he landed he rolled again, but this time tucked his left arm into his duster and came out with Matilda in a crouch. He did a fast sweep, when nothing showed up he did another, slower. There were tufts of hair and a claw sheath on a skylight. The glass was broken. He looked and snorted, there were people below looking up in shock. The window opening was too narrow, no way the killer dropped through it, even diagonal. No, he'd done it to throw Nohar off.

  He oriented on the smell again, and moved to his left to try to get a read again. It wasn't easy, the wind was still wrong, but when it ebbed he had the barest hint of something. He heard scrambling on the side and fought the urge to rush in. Instead he cautiously crept around, going wide, keeping from going in a straight line. He wanted to flank this bastard if at all possible.

  He got to the ledge in time to see a hand paw. He rushed to it just in time for it to let go. He looked over the side to see the bastard had dropped onto an awning below. The awning ripped, spilling its contents into a fruit stand below. The proprietor screamed, the killer struggled to get up and slashed at the man's throat.

  Nohar snarled. “Market! MARKET!” he roared and then bellowed a challenge. The lion looked up with mad golden eyes as he plucked a top hat off a hook on the stall wall. He put it jauntily on his head and then snapped a cane up.

  “Next time we meet,” he growled, rumbling a soft growl before flipping the tiger a one fingered salute and then he turned and melted into the market. There was an occasional scream to mark his passing and then silence.

  Nohar holstered Matilda and looked at the side of the building, the bastard had used a drain pipe to slide part of the way down. He wasn't that stupid. But if he lost him...

  Recklessly he climbed over the side, not onto the drain pipe, but onto the nearby fire escape. He slid down the ladder, vaulted to the next level, and then yowled as his weight ripped it from the wall and dropped the mess to the hard concrete six meters below.

  He covered his head and tucked into a ball as the pile of iron thundered down around and under him, then brushed it aside as he climbed out. He could feel he was hurt, but adrenaline was kicking in. A cop rounded a corner and pawed for his gun.

  “Call it in! Killer headed east!” Nohar snarled, pointing towards where the killer went. “Black Neolion!” he said moving off.

  He saw the young frightened cop freeze and then nod dumbly, turning to the body of the fruit stand guy. He blinked and then turned and rushed to the nearest phone box with a police symbol on top.

  Nohar tried to track the bastard but the smells were throwing him off. He got to the main intersection and paused. He closed his good eye and tried to orient but that damn cheap cologne was everywhere around him. He was gone. He yowled in frustration. Humans around him backed away in fright.

  “Next time you bastard!” he snarled, ears flat. Hyde, but a little Moriarty as well. And all too much Jack the ripper, he thought.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Magnum caught up a minute later, dropping his hands to his knees panting. “Lost him?” he said.

  “Yes, damn it,” Nohar snarled, rolling his shoulder. He felt bruises on his hip, shoulder, and left leg. He'd strained a ligament or something in one of the jumps... or that last landing.

  “We'll get him next time,” Magnum said as Draskin approached. The detective stopped at the body and whistled softly. Magnum looked under his arm. “What's he...”

  “Body,” Nohar answered softly, straightening. He turned to see the detective approach the body. “I think we have our jack the ripper. Definitely not a witness. Bastard did it in front of me,” Nohar snarled. I couldn't get a shot from above either,” he growled.

  “Damn,” Magnum muttered, straightening. “We'll get him. We kept trying to get a perimeter around the buildings but he kept jumping. One step ahead. Slippery bastard.”

  “Save it. We'd better get him. I've got to report in,” Nohar sighed.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Into the evening Draskin divided his time between the call box to be chewed out by the chief of police, the new fresh crime scene, the processing on the roof tops, and the man hunt. Lion hunt really, Nohar thought. They had pulled just about everyone away from the last crime scene to cover this.

  He understood why the cops were having so many problems, they were being buried in bodies and crime scenes, the CSI's were swamped and couldn't keep up. Keeping it all straight was also a problem. This new vic was a human though, killed in the market as a casual thing, so that elevated the situation.

  A radio playing nearby paused its' musical selection to play a press release from the chief o
f police. He gave little detail of the chase, but vowed to bring the killer to justice. Then the music started once more. Nohar snorted.

  He logged the incident in his bag and then turned just as a cop swore. “Draskin! You gotta get back to the park detective!”

  “Why?”

  “Someone just found a couple of bodies! Otters! One's bleeding out now!”

  “Shit! The bastard went back again!” Draskin snarled, throwing his hat onto the ground. Nohar sighed and started to trudge to the nearest car with the others.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  The hustled back to the scene of the new crime, the otter family of course, Nohar noted. Pick pockets, the ones who had been working the crowd watching the police. And since the police were down on them they hadn't reported anything when their cubs had started disappearing as if by magic. Since criminals and cops didn't intermingle by choice, unless the cop was on the take, they were pretty good prey for the killer. After all, no one was going to believe the criminals, and the cops weren't going to care. Tough luck right?

  And the cops wouldn't believe the bastard had doubled back so quickly. He must have a set on him, a big damn set.

  Somehow, the killer had found a manhole big enough for his frame, gotten into the sewer, and then doubled back through the sewer. That told Nohar he had an extensive knowledge of the area, far beyond his own.

  The killer had used the sewer drains to attack the otters. He had grabbed them by the ankles, knocking them onto their chests to knock the wind out of them and then dragged them in and killed them. All fast, blindingly fast, no one had seen a thing until the last otter.

  That one however had been witnessed, the body of the male was too fat to fit through the narrow slot drain. He'd been disemboweled before the killer had run off though.

  Grimly the cops found a nearby manhole and popped the cover. Draskin was ordering others to find maps of the sewers, but by the time they did it'd be over. They were cautious, covering the darkened hole with their pistols.

  “Find me a flashlight! Or a lantern!” Draskin called.

  Nohar growled and brushed past him. He hunched his shoulders in and dropped in through the opening.

  “See anything?” Draskin yelled from above.

  “Only muck and bodies,” Nohar said, turning in place. The bodies of the otter children were there, torn apart, their fur and blood splattered all over the inside of the concrete cavern. A brain was dripping off one wall.

  Nohar found other ravaged bodies in the sewer, most were the otter young. Magnum followed him in a minute later, trusting in Nohar's night sight since he didn't seem to have a light on him.

  Draskin and a rookie flat foot followed a moment later, each had a light. In the brighter light Nohar finally recognized canine tooth markings in one nearby body, and claw marks. Someone had carved lines in the concrete with a claw or knife, marking off each kill, and filling the mark in with fresh blood.

  There were some feeding signs too. He also spotted a half print. It was large. It was definitely feline, ruling out a bear, but he already knew that.

  Draskin nixed Nohar and Magnum's involvement in the chase so both of the PI's headed back to the exit.

  Topside he wearily climbed out of the manhole to see a woman nearby. She was an apparent overwrought witness, crying her heart out. She babbled, Talking about how she saw him from across the street. “Gold eyes glittering in the sewer, blood soaked teeth, it was awful. Hideous!” she said and then saw Nohar coming out and wailed again.

  “That one's on our side lady,” the cop with her reassured her, rubbing her shoulder. “Miss...”

  “He... he... he just looked at me... put a finger to his lips, then stepped back into the dark...” she mimed the action with her own hand in the classic shh motion and then she shook hysterically as a female cop tried to console her, hugging her to her side reassuringly, and rubbing at her arm. “He's going to get me! He is, he is! He's going after me next!” she wailed hysterically.

  “Someone oughta belt her to shut her up,” a cop said, shaking his head. Nohar looked his way and the cop froze and then looked away.

  “A belt might do her some good, some liquid courage,” O'shee said, coming over and twisting the cap off a nip bottle he had in his pocket. He offered it to her but she declined, sniffling. “Go on, take a belt. It'll get you sorted out miss. Think of it as police orders,” he said.

  “Well, okay,” she said taking a belt. She coughed, hand going to her face. Her cheeks reddened. “My that is rough,” she said.

  “It'll settle you for a bit miss. Now you said you saw him? Where?”

  She pointed a shaking hand to the sewer drain across the street. People were milling about above, oblivious of the possible presence of a killer. O'shee followed the line of her finger and then swore. He nodded to Draskin and the others.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Nohar scowled when he entered the lobby, the cat was talking on the phone. “Here he is now sir,” she said and then held the phone receiver up.

  “Shit,” Nohar muttered, fairly certain he knew who was on the other end. “Let me guess?” he growled coming over. The cat shrugged and nodded slightly. “Joy,” Nohar grumbled, thinking about what he did to deserve this. All he wanted was a shower.

  “Nohar,” he growled.

  “What's going on?” Solaximara purred.

  “We've got a Neo hunt on our hands,” Nohar replied. Quickly and grimly he sketched out the recent events, what they had found, and the neolion.

  “This is bad. Very bad,” the red lion replied.

  “You're telling me?”

  “You must make it look like a human did this,” the lion growled.

  “It's too late for that. He's gone way beyond it and the authorities know it. They've got forensics, tons of hairs, prints, the works. I'm sifting through the reports now. Then there are the witness sightings. I chased him!” Nohar snarled.

  “You don't understand. We must shift the blame. If it were to fall on us...”

  “This is our mess!” Nohar snarled, ears flat. The cat behind the counter was wide eyes. Nohar clutched the phone, trying hard not to break it. “We clean it up. We Neo's should have aborted this abomination. Now we’re going to make it right. Not the humans us, ME!” he growled.

  “We need to rethink this. I need to rethink this. You are too close. Pull out.”

  “I'm not going anywhere. I'm seeing this through,” Nohar growled. He owed it to the cat who'd talked to him. Hell, he hadn't even gotten her name. Her or her kits.

  “I'm not paying you another credit Nohar,” Solaximara said, voice dropping into a sneer.

  “You'll pay me for what I've done so far,” Nohar growled. “I'll send you a report. You better pay up or I'll make sure there is hell to pay. Starting with the recording of this conversation, I'll hand it off to a friend or two. Your rivals would love to hear it.” Suddenly he was glad he had charged an upfront fee.

  “You wouldn't dare,” the red lion hiss spat.

  “Try me,” Nohar growled back. “I'm not in the mood to play games Solaximara, this killer is going down. Down the hard way if that's what it takes.”

  “but...”

  “He's a male neolion, black mane, purple highlights. He's mad, drunk with blood lust. He's going to slip up, and when he does I want one of us to take him down. Balance. The humans are going to use him against us, I want it known it was one of us that put the damn bastard in the ground,” Nohar growled.

  “Yes,...” the lion replied after a long moment. Nohar could see the wheels turning in his politician mind. He was trying to see it from all the angles. It was a pity the lion didn't understand he'd always be on the outside looking in when it came to human politics. They'd tolerate him only so high, and if he tried to go further... well, it was a long way down. A long, long way.

  “Do what it takes,” Solaximara replied and then hung up. Nohar snorted and hung up as well.

  “Yeah well, what it takes right now is
a shower,” he said. The cat behind the desk nodded silently, waving a hand in front of her nose.

  “I won't even charge you for the water,” she said.

  “You're all heart lady,” Nohar replied, shaking his head wryly as he walked off to his room.

  Chapter 8

  The next morning Magnum met him as usual in the lobby. “Don't you ever sleep?” Nohar asked, scratching an itch on his back absently. He licked his lips, dry, he thought.

  “Well, some of us don't leap tall buildings in a single bound,” Magnum teased, holding the paper up.

  Nohar blinked at it wearily. Right on the front it showed a blurry night time picture of the killer. The headline read 'Jack the Ripper loose in Ring City'. He snarled recognizing the image, that was no lion. “That's a picture of me!” he growled.

  Magnum looked at it and sighed. “Damn it! And not even your good side!” he said.

  “Yeah well...” Nohar wiped his face with his left hand. “Sometimes it doesn't pay to stay in bed,” he grumbled. He was bloody sore all over. He'd gotten a shower in, but that was about it before falling into bed. That damn human bed had been the nicest thing he'd ever slept on, even if it was a bit flea infested.

  “Do they have any idea what they did? They painted a target on me!” Nohar snarled. “Every yahoo with a gun who wants to be a hero will be out on the street!”

  “Sucks to be you,” Magnum said.

  “Yeah well, I'm sticking close to you good buddy, ole pal,” Nohar drawled sarcastically. Magnum blinked and then snorted, eyes narrowed.

  “Thought you weren't going to stick around? Your client bailed?” Magnum asked.

  Nohar frowned, ears going flat. “Where did you hear that?” he asked and then turned. The cat behind the counter busied herself looking elsewhere. Her ears were rotated in their direction though.

  “No,” Nohar said, finally turning. “I finish what I start,” he growled, looking at the human.