Devil's Nightmare (Devil's Nightmare, Book 1)

by Pruneda, Robert

  “Ever been in a ‘Vette before?”

  “Nuh-uh,” Cody said, shaking his head. “But I’ve been in a Mustang.” I smiled, but didn’t comment.

  Cody reached for the radio controls.

  “It doesn’t work.”

  “Oh, yeah. Okay.” Cody stared out the passenger side window as we travelled past downtown Austin. The boy pointed towards the skyscrapers. “That’s where my mom works.”

  My heart sank a little, hearing Cody’s reference to his mother in the present tense. “Which building?”

  “The one that looks like an owl.”

  “The Frost Bank Tower? Was she a banker?”

  “No, she cleans offices. She works late a lot.”

  “A friend of mine used to own a cleaning business. He cleaned several offices downtown, including the State Capitol building, for years. I used to help him out on my days off, when I was a traffic cop.”

  Cody rested his head on the seat and continued to watch the city pass by. The traffic thinned out as vehicles pulled off the highway via the exit ramps. Soon, there were mostly tractor trailers and only a few other cars on the road. As we continued to follow the Mercedes, we passed a large billboard that advertised an exotic animal farm.

  “When I was a kid, my dad took me and my friend to the Snake Farm on our way to Schlitterbahn,” Bright headlights reflected off my rearview mirror, causing me to squint. I flipped the anti-glare lever down and continued my story. “They had all kinds of snakes in there, including a huge reticulated python.”

  The idiot with the high beams passed me on the left in a red pickup truck. I would have honked at him to show my displeasure, but the horn on my Corvette sounded like The Roadrunner. It just wouldn’t have had the aggressive, pissed off effect I’d have intended. I pulled the lever underneath my rearview mirror back up as the truck sped away.

  “The weirdest thing I saw there was a two-headed snake. Man, that thing was creepy. Ever seen a two-headed snake before?”

  Cody didn’t respond.

  “Cody?”

  I took my eyes off the road for a brief moment. Cody’s head bobbed as the car hit bumps in the road. “I guess there’s nothing like the hum of an engine at highway speed to help you get some shuteye,” I said, yawning. Well, that and a cop telling boring stories about his childhood.”

  We travelled a few more miles down the highway before exiting and moving onto a poorly maintained county road. The small pot holes scattered throughout the road may as well have been land mines underneath my low-profile sports car. I maneuvered around the potholes I could see but still managed to hit a few others. I cringed when the car’s undercarriage scraped the pavement, and could just imagine the potential damage.

  The rough ride through the mine field had no effect on Cody’s sleeping. After two more miles of abuse on my car’s suspension and undercarriage, the road finally smoothed out. Then the headlights flickered.

  “Great. Now what?”

  My headlights went dark, just as a large, shadowy figure appeared on the road in front of me.

  “Oh crap!” I stomped on the brake pedal and held the steering wheel as tight as I could. The tires screeched, as the rubber struggled to grip the pavement. Then, hitting a patch of loose gravel, the Corvette fish-tailed, spun around, and slid backwards, only to spin sideways once again before finally coming to rest in the grass on the other side of the road. The long front end of the car stuck out perpendicular to the road.

  The spinning vehicle and screeching tires had no effect on the slumbering kid in the passenger seat. How could he have slept through that? Up ahead, red brake lights lit up briefly, and then disappeared. After that, the only light came from the stars and a half-moon, which poked occasionally through the dense clouds.

  I stepped on the clutch and brake pedals, shifted the gear to neutral. A turn of the key yielded no response from the engine. Not even a click. On the road, headlights appeared in the distance. I turned the key repeatedly, but the engine refused to start. I hit the steering wheel with the palm of my hand.

  Silence.

  Suddenly, the approaching headlight beams disappeared, but not because Miss Jimenez had shut off her lights. Something large had obstructed the lights, leaving a moving, distorted silhouette in their place. I reached inside my pocket for my flashlight, just as a pair of amber objects, like eyes, glowed in the upper region of the silhouette. The effect of the glow was similar to how a cat’s eyes will gather and reflect a beam of light… but, in this case, there was no light.

  My heart pounded in my ears as the eyes disappeared and the silhouette shifted to one side, causing the approaching headlights to once again shine in my face. I tried turning on my flashlight, but it, too, failed. I groaned and peered out my driver’s side window towards the field. Three pairs of what appeared to be glowing eyes bounced in the nearby darkness. And on the road, the silhouette—suddenly visible again in the glare of the approaching headlights—grew larger as it charged towards my car.

  “Oh, shit.” I reached for my gun and glanced over at Cody. He was still asleep.

  I pulled my weapon out of its holster as the approaching headlights lit the interior of my car. I made a move to open the door, when the simultaneous blare of a car horn and explosive roar of the ‘Vette’s eight-cylinder engine coming to life—along with the realization that the car’s headlights were working again—startled me to a stunned immobility. I clinched my chest and checked the field. My heart was pounding.

  The Mercedes crunched to a halt alongside my idling car. I scanned the opposite field and glanced at my rearview mirror. That hadn’t been a jaguar, or even a cougar. It was much bigger. And those eyes…

  It was then that I realized Cody had woken up. He stared at my drawn gun, his eyes wide and chest heaving. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his body trembled. He didn’t say a word.

  “Stay in the car.”

  With my gun drawn, I got out and searched around the vehicle, then stepped towards the edge of the field on the passenger side and peered out into the darkness.

  Miss Jimenez got out of her car and approached me. “Are you okay?” I turned for a moment to face her. She stepped back towards her car when she noticed the gun. “What’s the matter?”

  “Get back in your car,” I ordered, turning my gaze back to the dark field.

  “What’s going on?” her voice trembled.

  I backed towards her and explained, “There’s something out there. I don’t know what, but it’s big.”

  “What do you mean by ‘something’?” In my periphery, I saw her hold a hand over her chest. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes! Now get in the car!”

  The frightened woman backed into her car and stumbled around to the driver’s side door. She checked her surroundings again, got inside the vehicle, and pulled the door shut, the clicking of the lock following shortly after.

  I stood next to the Mercedes with my gun poised and ready to fire at the next glimpse of the glowing eyes. But I didn’t find anything except tall grass swaying from the breeze that blew through the open fields. The running engines muted any other sounds of nature or noises the animals might have made.

  I figured the blaring horn must have scared the animal away. I holstered my weapon and made a twirling motion in the air with my index finger. I wanted to get back on the road and away from there.

  As I got back into my car, Cody asked, “What’d you see?”

  I had no idea what it had been, but those glowing eyes burned in my mind. My lights malfunctioning and engine firing back to life on its own had also freaked me out.

  “What’d you see?” Cody asked again.

  I put the car in gear and said, “Probably nothing.” When I pulled the car back onto the road, I asked, “You see anything?”

  Cody took a breath and opened his mouth as if wanting to answer, but then he shook his head and stared out the windshield.

  †

  We arrived at the entrance of the secluded orp
hanage five minutes later. I followed Miss Jimenez down a narrow gravel road that wound away from the main road about two hundred yards and was lined with trees on either side. We approached a fence line with a private property sign, crossed over a cattle guard, and drove another fifty yards around a bend. The interior lights of the large old mansion appeared on the other side of a ten-foot stone and iron fence.

  I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as we approached the iron-gated entrance of Saint Hedwig Youth Home. The Mercedes pulled up next to a guard station and came to a stop. A young man in a security guard uniform stepped out of the booth and approached the car. Miss Jimenez handed him her identification. The security guard spoke with her for a minute, glanced at me, and then stepped back inside his booth. The iron gates emitted a loud squeak and swung open.

  After Miss Jimenez moved forward, I drove up to the guard station ready to stop and show him my own credentials, but the guard waved me by. The ‘Vette’s tires met a cobblestone driveway that widened as I drove past the iron gates. Saint Hedwig Youth Home sat on two acres of land, completely surrounded by a ten-foot fence of half stone and half iron, and with only one way in or out of the property. The wide cobblestone driveway circled around a courtyard, with an old fountain in the middle, and well-trimmed topiaries.

  The old two-story mansion, replete with stone walls and gothic-styled windows, overlooked the dimly lit courtyard and circular driveway. A single light hung over the double-door entrance of the youth home.

  Miss Jimenez parked her car behind a white minivan just beyond the front walkway. I parked behind her and shut off my engine.

  “We’re here,” I said to Cody.

  Cody studied the massive stone structure for a moment before getting out of the car. I sighed and hesitated before getting out myself.

  †

  I had first stepped inside Saint Hedwig Youth Home as a ten-year-old orphaned boy. A chill pulsed through my body. The sight of that building brought back a flood of memories I’d rather have pushed out of my mind. Six months after my father had died, my mother washed down forty sleeping pills with a bottle of Vodka. It was their fifteenth wedding anniversary, and that was how she chose to celebrate. I hadn’t yet realized the irony of the situation, and the reason why I felt a strong connection with Cody Sumner.

  Miss Jimenez opened the trunk of her car and called Cody over. “Come get your suitcase.”

  The eleven-year-old approached Miss Jimenez as she lifted a black leather suit case out of the trunk. Watching them, I recalled my own social worker’s cold hand wrapped around my arm, as she’d led me inside the youth home. I’d spent several months with my grandparents, but they’d rescinded custody because of my disciplinary problems, including a semester in juvenile detention. The old couple just couldn’t handle me anymore. I had refused to talk to my shrink, so he recommended temporary residence at Saint Hedwig.

  He’d promised me that I would only have to stay a few weeks. I spent the next eight years of my life at Saint Hedwig Youth Home.

  “Detective Sanders?” Miss Jimenez called. When I didn’t immediately respond, she called out again.

  “Yeah, what is it?” I answered through the open driver’s side door.

  “Did you need anything else?” she said, approaching me. “Or may I take Cody inside to meet with the director now?”

  I stared at the large frosted glass double doors—an apparent modern update to the building—and rubbed the back of my neck. “Actually, I’d like to meet the director myself.”

  “It’s getting late,” Miss Jimenez protested. “Is it absolutely necessary for you to meet him right now?”

  I shut the door to my car and rested my arm on the roof. “I just want to introduce myself, let him know that I’ll need an open communication with Cody. Until my investigation is over, that is.”

  “I’ll give him your card,” Miss Jimenez suggested. “And have him call you to set up a meeting.”

  “It’ll only take a—”

  “Detective Sanders, I understand you have an open investigation and you’re just doing your job, but Cody is my responsibility now. Before we can place him with a foster home, we need to make sure he gets the necessary treatment to help him cope with his PTSD.”

  “You think he’s suffering from a stress disorder?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Seriously?”

  “Well, yes. Of course he is.” She lowered her voice and added, “In case you have forgotten, he witnessed the deaths of his friends and both of his parents.”

  “I’m well aware of that.”

  Miss Jimenez crossed her arms across her chest and glared at me.

  “Fine.” I handed her my business card. “Just make sure he calls me first thing in the morning. I want to meet with him in person.”

  She glanced at the card, placed it in her pocket, and returned to Cody, who stood at the edge of the front walkway.

  I yelled out, “Call me if you need anything!”

  Miss Jimenez waved, with her back towards me.

  “I was talking to the kid.” I gave the boy a casual wave, and yelled, “I’ll talk to you later, Cody!”

  He didn’t answer me, but I recognized the sullen droopiness on his face. I empathized with him. He didn’t want to go inside the youth home, and I couldn’t blame him. After starting my car, I watched Miss Jimenez lead him up the walkway with her hand brushed against his back. I put the car in gear and eased it forward. When Cody finally looked over his shoulder, I stopped the car and exhaled a deep breath of sympathy as those large double doors closed behind him.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Broken Down

  I had purchased my Corvette on an impulse, knowing that the thirty-year-old car would require lots of attention. I didn’t care. I had always wanted a Stingray, a classic American sports car. I’d even bought it without getting it checked out first, figuring that, little by little, I would fully restore the car with new parts, anyway. I realized, now, that had been a mistake, as I leaned against the black fiberglass body, stranded on the side of the road. I hadn’t even made it to the interstate before the car crapped out on me again.

  Bits and pieces of the transmission lay scattered in a trail behind my treasured classic. I could feel a migraine coming while I listened to the cars and eighteen-wheelers traveling on the highway ahead of me. The time displayed on my cell phone showed ten minutes to midnight.

  “Half an hour for a tow truck, my ass,” I complained. “It’s been at least an hour.”

  I called Big Al’s Wrecker Service, and after a couple of rings, I heard two beeps. The call had failed. I dialed the number again. That time there wasn’t even a ringtone; the phone just shut itself off.

  “What the…”

  The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck rose as another thunderstorm brewed overhead. A chill ran through my spine, the same feeling I’d gotten after running off the same road earlier. I shined my flashlight beam across the road and then over the roof of my car, towards the field on other side. The light reflected off something just above the tall grass, which then disappeared. I unbuttoned my holster and stepped around the front of the car, shining the flashlight toward where I’d last seen the reflection.

  Dark clouds swallowed the moonlight, leaving me with just the narrow beam of the flashlight. As lightning streaked behind the clouds and thunder rolled overhead, something crossed the path of my beam. A pair of now-familiar reflections appeared in the field about fifty yards away. They didn’t move. With my gun drawn, I eased backwards around the front of my car, keeping the light on those glowing eyes. Then, two more sets appeared alongside them.

  Lightning shot down from the sky and burned the ground just five hundred yards from me. I expected the flash to reveal what had been staring at me from the open field, but instead, all three sets of eyes simply disappeared. As the storm approached, raindrops began slapping the surface of my car.

  My heart raced as I searched the area around me, my small beam of light revealing o
nly tall grass, swaying from the increasing wind. A fierce clap of thunder made me jump. Then something growled behind me. My body stiffened.

  I kept my finger poised over the trigger of my pistol and turned around slowly. My body froze. The creature was monstrous. Three heads protruded from the muscular body of a male lion. The primary head, also a male lion, showed massive canines as it growled, saliva dripping from its large mouth. The monster also had heads of a dark red-scaled dragon and a black ram. Behind it waved a tail, tipped with yet another head that resembled a king cobra. The dragon head had two horns just above its eyes, and a mouth full of thin, needle-like teeth. It lowered its neck, focused its eyes on mine and hissed, while the ram snorted and bucked its head.

  My mind urged me to shoot the grotesque beast, but my finger wouldn’t budge. The beast roared as thunder exploded and a flash of lightning blinded me. Heavy rain poured as that unbelievable freak of an animal pounced on me.

  I fired my weapon and fell backwards onto the wet pavement, trying to avoid the attack. The creature landed on top of me, the lion’s mouth inches from my face. It roared again and then, in a southern accent, said, “Hey, you!” It grabbed me by my shoulder, and shook me. “You call a tow truck?”

  I awoke in a jolt and shoved the barrel of my gun against a man’s chest. He lifted his hands in the air and stepped away from the car.

  “Sumbitch, man! Didn’t mean to startle ya!”

  I lowered my gun. “God, I’m sorry…” I read the young man’s nametag, “…Rick. But I’d think twice before grabbing someone’s shoulder like that again.”

  “I ain’t gettin’ paid ’nough fer this shit. You call a tow truck, or did’n cha’?”

  “No, I just like taking naps on the side of the road in the middle of the night. Yes, I called a tow truck.” I rubbed my hand over my face, and reflected how that had been the second time in two days that I’d had a similar nightmare.

  “Yeah, well, alrighty then,” Rick said. “You ain’t gotta be all bitchy ’bout it.”