by Byron Starr
For a brief moment no one said a word, then James spoke up. “Well, I think it’s odd how the thing always knows what to attack and where to find it.”
Everyone looked at James. Bill and Emilio had a fairly well concealed but still apparent look of surprise on their faces. This made James hesitate.
“Please, continue,” Sam helped.
The last few weeks had made tatters of James’ nerves. He felt his cheeks grow warm and realized he was blushing; this in turn made him embarrassed about the fact that he was blushing like a schoolboy and made his cheeks turn even redder. He began to feel lightheaded, so he hid his head in his hands.
Sam had just opened his mouth to coax James into talking when James, without raising his head from his hands, started again. “In one of my dreams it saw my prints where I had snooped around at the Perrett place. Four days later it shows up at my house, which is over five miles away, and murders Angie and Jimmy.”
After mentioning their names out loud for the first time in over a week, James began to feel tears well up in his eyes. He fought them back, then raised his head, wiping away any possible sign of tears with his hands as he moved them away from his face.
“Then it killed Greg when he was the only person left who believed me,” James continued. “Then, after the dogs came close to catching it, the thing traveled all the way out past Liberty to take care of them. It’s weird enough that it noticed the dogs were a threat, but it’s downright unbelievable that this thing knew where to find them.”
There was another brief moment of silence, then Sam spoke. “I fully agree that what happened to the dogs seems to be too much of a coincidence, and I must admit the circumstances surrounding the killing of your wife and child are quite odd. But, I think that even if the truck driver is right, and there was something at the corner when Deputy O’Brien ran out in front of him, I still think O’Brien’s incident was just a case of he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I mean three murders had already been committed on that road, so we already know it was prowling there.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t normally sit and wait at intersections for its victims.”
“What do you mean?” Sam asked.
“It sat in those woods for over an hour, waiting. Then, when Greg passed by on his way to check out the crime scenes, it watched the car closely, not like the other dozens of cars that passed by while it was sitting there. Then it waited at the intersection for Greg to return. Y’all have a record of when he stopped at Mr. Youngblood’s, don’t you? How long was it between the time he called in and the time I started raising the roof?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll check,” Bill said.
“Well, however long it was, that beast waited quite some time for him to come back, then attacked him. It wasn’t random at all.”
“What about Sharon Perrett, William Youngblood, Alma Carroll, and Don and Lisa Chamblin?” Sam asked.
“Random attacks, I think. I guess it was hungry,” James said, “although Emilio said that the Chamblin attack might have been a decoy.”
Emilio’s eyebrows shot up. He put his hands out in front of himself and waved them defensively. “What I said was, if your dreams were right, and this thing was staking out Newton, then maybe when it attacked the Chamblins it was trying to throw us off.”
James caught the defensiveness of Emilio’s posture and statement and began to wonder if they were telling him everything. He thought about asking them what they had been talking about before he came in the room, but he held his tongue.
“I guess if this creature’s smart enough to do half of the things it’s done, it’s smart enough to know how to run a red herring across a trail,” Sam commented. “So, we all agree this thing is smarter than the average bear, so to speak.” No one laughed at his weak attempt to lighten the mood, so Sam continued, “Does anyone have any idea how to go about catching or killing the thing?”
There was another long pause, then James spoke again. “It’s got a new den. It seems to be an abandoned building of some sort; it seemed to have been painted white at one time, but the paint is flaking. It takes longer for the beast to reach town than it did before, so I imagine this place is pretty far back in the woods. If I can get a good enough look at the building, maybe I can identify it and we can catch it while it’s at home nappin’.”
“This is a possibility,” Sam said.
“We can try tracking again,” Emilio said, then added, “of course, like you said, we will have even less of a chance of catching it without Larry and his dogs.”
“If this damn thing’s as smart as it makes out to be,” Bill added, “we can probably count out being able to track it with dogs. I think the only real chance we’ve got is if James here can wake up from one of his dreams in time to tell us where that thing is right before or during an attack. And even then we’d have to have a unit right there. The thing seems to work fast.”
“You’re probably right, Bill,” Sam said, then asked, “Any more ideas?” He looked around and got no response other than a shrug from Emilio.
Sam said, “All right then. If y’all think of anything else, for Christ’s sake I’m all ears.” He turned to Bill, “That’s all I wanted to say.”
Bill took the floor back. “Okay, Emilio, you need to go see Debra about some paperwork on Larry and his dogs.”
Bill then looked at James. “And James, judging by the looks of you, you could use a few more winks. I want you to go home and get some rest. When you feel rested, I want you to come back and report to Debra. She’ll get Carl to stop by the station and pick you up. He can show you the ropes.”
“Yes, sir,” James had started to say he was fine, but he knew this was a lie. He was exhausted.
* * *
Officer Max Davis of the Newton City Police was sitting in his patrol car just below the Newton city limits on Highway 87 facing south, toward town. A black Mustang darted around the corner. The driver saw Max’s patrol car and tried to decelerate without hitting the brakes, which would’ve caused the car’s hood to dip and the taillights to flash in a telltale sign of guilt. Max looked at his radar: 73. Seventy-three in a sixty mile per hour zone, definitely ticket material. But that wasn’t why Max was there.
The next vehicle that came around the corner was a white pickup, James Taylor’s pickup.
As the pickup passed by, Max lifted his fingers from his steering wheel in a friendly wave. The driver of the pickup, James, returned the gesture.
Max watched the pickup disappear around the next corner through his rearview mirror, then picked up a little hand held satellite phone and dialed the sheriff’s office.
“Captain Jones. This is Max. He just passed by ... Yep, I’m sure ... Okay, no problem, glad I could help.”
Max hung up the phone started looking for speeders.
* * *
Sam opened the door to Bill’s office and stuck his head out the door. “Mrs. Duncan, could you please ask Mr. Rodriguez to join us.”
Sam went back to his seat at the side of Bill’s desk and sat down. Bill sat in his desk sipping on a fresh cup of coffee Debra had just brought him. In no time, Emilio returned and took a seat in the chair he had so recently vacated.
“Well, what do ya’ll think?” Sam asked
“I think the boy’s bein’ straight with us,” Bill said and Emilio nodded in agreement. “It certainly don’t seem like he’s holdin’ anything back.”
“It just seems odd to me that the thing happened to hit Larry’s dogs the night after we took James out to see them,” Sam said. “But I agree. I’ve got enough experience to give me a good idea when someone’s trying to hide something. I think James is on the up and up.”
“We’ve proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that he didn’t have anything to do with most of the killings. He was in jail for one, maybe two,” Emilio said. “And if he was helping someone out, he would want to draw our attention away from the coincidences rather than to them. He certainly wouldn’t have brought th
em up himself. If you ask me, this just about proves he’s not collaborating with someone or something.”
“True,” Sam commented. “I think he’s being honest, but I still think we ought to find some way to keep an eye on him. He’s living out there by himself. If he is an asset, it’s only a matter of time before that thing goes after him.”
“Actually,” Bill spoke up, “the same thing could be said for yourself. You’re stayin’ out at your dad’s old place by yourself. And you, too, Emilio. You’re a bachelor, aren’t you?”
Emilio nodded.
Bill looked at Emilio and said, “Why don’t you invite your good friend James to stay at your place for a while.”
Emilio raised his eyebrows and started to protest.
Bill grinned slyly and added, “I insist.”
Emilio smiled back. “I was just about to say how nice it would be to have a house guest.”
“That’s what I thought,” Bill said with a smile, then he turned to Sam. “And as for you ... ”
“Now hold on just a cotton-pickin’ minute,” Sam interrupted, also smiling.
Bill kept going, the wolfish grin still on his face. “I can put extra sheets and a good feather pillow in one of the empty cells.”
“You’re going to quarter a Texas Ranger in a cold dark cell?” Sam asked in feigned shock.
“It’s where I’ve been resting my weary bones for the last few days. If it’s good enough for me it’s good enough for you.”
Sam’s grin widened. “By God?”
“By God,” Bill answered, still smiling.
* * *
That afternoon just after two, when Carl and James came in from patrolling, Emilio met James at the Sheriff’s Office and suggested James move in with him for a while. At first James refused, but Emilio politely informed him that there may not be another option. They then went to James’ house where James repacked his overnight bag and loaded Lady into the back of his pickup. Emilio didn’t have a pen for Lady, and James wouldn’t hear of her running loose where that creature could get her - James just couldn’t shake the feeling that she was the last of his family. Finally Bill came through with a solution and Lady was shipped to Houston where she could stay with Bill’s wife at her sister’s house.
That night James slept on his third couch in three weeks.
James dreamed of the beast prowling inside the Newton city limits again, but it didn’t make an attack. On its return trip to the new lair, the beast killed and ate a squirrel. Once again the beast’s journey ended at the white building, but, as before, James was not able to get a good look at the building to tell anything about it.
The next day James again patrolled during the day with Carl and at night he returned to Emilio’s.
During the night, the beast once again entered the city limits; this time killing someone’s cat and even sending its senses into a few houses, but it didn’t attack any people. The beast was being cautious, but James knew the killings were far from over.
Chapter 16
Dan’s Awakening
On the morning of November 18, the day after James temporarily moved in with Emilio, Dan Chamblin woke up from his coma. Dan had been at St. Elizabeth Hospital in Beaumont for four days now, and for the last two he had shown signs that he was beginning to regain consciousness. He now had his own room, where he was placed lying face down so he wouldn’t be lying on the massive injuries to his shoulder and the back of his head. His bed was made so that his head came off the edge of the bed and faced down; a padded bar was rigged to rest his forehead, holding his head up. Beneath his head was a mirror, so he could, if he were awake, talk with visitors without having to turn his head to the side.
Dan’s sister, Barbara DeWitt, was in the room with him. His mother, Wilma Chamblin, and his son had also been in the room during much of the last four days, but they had returned home for some rest. Barbara had taken over the family vigil in their absence. Pastor Ronald Talley also stopped by, hoping to catch Jeremy and see how he was coping with the tragic loss of his mother and his father’s horrendous injury. Ronald stayed about an hour talking to Barbara, who was a member of his church. He had just left when Dan started stirring.
Dan had been semiconscious off and on throughout the last two days, but each time he was only able to glance around the room briefly before returning to a deep unconsciousness. The longest he’d been awake so far was earlier this morning when he’d managed to stay conscious long enough to hear his mother claim she saw his hand move, then after she grasped his hand he had tightened his grip. They called the nurses, but before anyone arrived he had drifted off again.
He awoke slowly. His vision swimming lazily as it came into focus. The first thing he saw the image of his own face before him — the mirror. He allowed his eyes to look about the room. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could make out Barbara sitting in a chair to his right. She was reading her usual trashy romance novel.
“Barbara,” he slurred in a weak and hoarse voice.
Barbara glanced up, unsure if she’d really heard something or not, then looked back down at her book, but only briefly. She suddenly realized Dan had been staring back at her. The voice she’d heard hadn’t been her imagination. She dropped her book. “Dan!” She ran to the door and shouted down the hall to the nurses' station. “He’s awake! He’s talking!”
She ran back to Dan’s bed and squatted down beside him. She reached to put her arm around him, but thought better of it. She might accidentally put pressure on the wounds on his back and head.
“It’s so good to have you back, Dan,” she said, with tears building in her eyes.
Dan realized from Barbara’s actions that he must have been unconscious for some time. He suddenly wondered if he’d been out for months or years. “How long?” he asked, his voice much stronger now than when he’d first spoke, but still fairly weak.
At first Barbara didn’t catch what he meant, then she replied, “Oh, you’ve been in a, uh, coma for four days.”
This was a tremendous relief.
Two nurses came in the door. The younger of the two began checking Dan’s vital signs. The older one pulled a stool up right next to Dan so she could look into the mirror and ask him questions.
“How do you feel, Mr. Chamblin?” the older nurse asked.
“Fine, I guess. A little tired,” Dan said.
While the nurse continued to ask Dan a few questions, Pastor Talley came back in.
“I was at the cafeteria,” the preacher told Barbara, “I came as soon as I heard.”
Barbara hugged Pastor Talley, then turned back to Dan. She clasped her hands together in front of her chest and exclaimed, “God has blessed us!”
Ronald quietly agreed, “Truly the work of the Lord.”
While the nurse was asking him questions and Pastor Talley and Barbara were discussing God’s influence, Dan began trying to remember what had happened that night. He remembered Jeremy at the door, wanting to be let in. Lisa had gotten up and gone to the door. Then something had happened, but what?
“Mr. Chamblin? Mr. Chamblin, are you okay?” the nurse asked when Dan quit answering her questions.
“Yeah, just tryin’ to remember,” he said hoarsely.
“Well, I have just a few more questions. Then in a little while Dr. Thomas will want to see you. Can you feel your hands?”
“Yeah.”
“Wiggle your fingers, please?”
Dan moved his fingers for the nurse, then he started thinking. Jeremy had come through the door, knocking Lisa down. Was something chasing him? No, he didn’t think so.
Then something else caught his eye. Among the many potted plants on the table near the window, there was a basket of silk flowers with a ribbon that read BELOVED SISTER. Beside the shelf, standing on the floor, was a stand of flowers; its ribbon read: MOTHER. These were funeral flowers!
The nurse was just about to ask Dan if he was okay when he blurted out, “The little prick killed his own mother!”
“What?” Barbara gasped.
“I said that little prick of a son of mine killed his own mother,” Dan said, his voice still heavily slurred. He tried to turn his head toward Barbara and Ronald, who were just in the blind spot of both his eyes and the mirror below him. This caused immense pain in the back of his head.
Seeing Dan’s face tighten with pain, the nurse said, “Mr. Chamblin, you need to settle down. You don’t want to strain yourself.”
Pastor Talley said, “Dan, Jeremy was at the church lock-in all night. I was there with him. He didn’t go anywhere.”
“I don’t give a shit what you think you saw. I saw the little murdering bastard with my own two eyes. He attacked me before I could get up, then he must have turned on Lisa.”