Teeth of Beasts (Skinners)

by Marcus Pelegrimas

  Its chest was cut down the middle in a Y incision and held open by shiny metal pins as thick as Cole’s fingers. The skin and several layers of muscle were peeled away to reveal a set of ribs that had been neatly sawed apart, allowing him to gaze down into the yawning cavity. Half of the innards were in the carcass and the rest was divided up among several containers kept within the cabinets Rico was examining.

  Tugging at a flap of skin so he could twist it around and show him a patch of tan fur, Rico asked, “You recognize this one?”

  Cole tried to steady himself with a deep breath, but only managed to pull in a lungful of air that stank equally of dead meat and industrial strength sanitizers. “Looks like a Full Blood,” he choked. “I didn’t think anyone could kill one of these.”

  “This Lancroft guy may be an asshole, but he’s one hell of a Skinner.”

  As horrible as the sight was, Cole couldn’t take his eyes away from it. Despite looking as if it had been blown apart by a hand grenade, everything around the carcass was pristine. Not one drop of blood had been spilled onto the dry concrete floor, which Cole now saw bore runes that were mostly filled with dust. Not one stray bit of fur could be found on the table or any of the cabinets. If the sink was used recently, it had been vigorously cleaned. He kept moving along the edge of the table, surveying the body of one of the most fearsome animals ever created. After seeing one Full Blood shake off fully automatic rifle fire and another tear his way through an entire city on a whim, it hardly seemed fair for any human to get close enough to poke one in the face without consequence. “How fresh is this thing?”

  “I can smell formaldehyde,” Rico grunted as he knelt to get a better look at some of the machinery lined up against the wall. “And most of these units down here could chill this whole room down plenty low enough to keep meat fresh. Could be this Lancroft guy found it in a forest somewhere after it died of old age. As for how long it’s been here, I couldn’t tell ya. You’re good with computers, right? How about you hack into that one and see if there are any records. If this guy is any kind of Skinner at all, he’s keeping a journal.” Snapping his eyes toward Cole as if he’d suddenly thought of something more important than what they’d discovered, he asked, “You’re keeping a journal, right?”

  The question didn’t even register in Cole’s brain. He stood near the top of the table, staring down at the massive gaping maw of the Full Blood’s mouth. Most of the teeth in its upper jaw had been pulled and the entire lower jaw had been removed. Its tongue had been whittled down to a nub, both of its eyes were gone, the sockets were hollowed out, and a good portion of its skull were emptied. All that remained even vaguely resembling a canine face was a snout and the ridges of its brow.

  “This can’t be,” Cole sighed.

  Rico stood up and circled the table to get to the next set of cabinets. Outside, Paige was doing her best to calm down the Dryads. “I know,” he said. “When we take ’em down, they at least die fighting. Half Breeds ain’t nothin’ more than sick, wild animals, and sometimes I still feel bad killin’ those in their sleep. This is a whole other story.”

  Cole looked away from the creature’s face and stared down at the spot where the flesh had been pulled away from its arm to reveal bones that were snapped off and scorched at the tips. An acetylene torch rested against the table near his feet, confirming just how tough a Full Blood was even after it was dead. Something registered in his mind that made him reach into the gaping chest cavity and slide his fingers along the top of the rib cage.

  “There’s plenty for us to use in these jars, Cole,” Rico said. “No need to go fishin’.”

  Now that his hands couldn’t get any dirtier, Cole reached all the way in and started feeling for a spinal column. Considering how much had already been removed from the carcass, the task wasn’t too difficult. With a little nudge here and a gentle push there, the innards gave way like pieces stuck to a model with glue that hadn’t been given a chance to dry.

  Finally, Paige appeared at the door. “Elsie and Jordan are the only two Dryads here and they can take us anywhere we want to go. They also say someone’s trying to get back here through the curtain, so we need to—Holy shit on a shingle,” she gasped when she took in the sight on the table. “What the hell is that?”

  Cole’s voice was a shaky whisper when he told her, “This is Henry.”

  Chapter 27

  Paige’s eyes were focused upon the gruesome sculpture of carnage displayed upon the engraved silver table. The Dryads gathered behind her, peeking into the room before quickly looking away.

  “That can’t be Henry,” Rico said. “There ain’t no way this much work was done so quickly. I found a goddamn hacksaw and something that looked like a miniature Jaws of Life in here. It must’ve taken weeks to do that kind of work. We’ve just been talking to him, for Christ’s sake!”

  “We have been talking to Henry,” Cole whispered. “But he’s right here.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Paige asked.

  Cole looked at the dead creature’s face from another angle to imagine if the thing on the table truly could have been the same Full Blood that ran away from him after Misonyk was killed in Janesville. His hand remained buried inside its chest cavity, resting upon a section of broken spinal column that had been rubbed smooth after years upon years of Henry’s head swinging like a pendulum.

  “It’s him, Paige. I can feel where the neck was broken.”

  “That don’t prove jack,” Rico grunted. “Damn near everything on this poor bastard is broke.”

  Paige approached the table and ran her hands over the shaggy fur of the werewolf’s leg as though she was comforting a pet that had just been put down. At the midsection, she pulled one of the pins free and examined the flap of skin on the creature’s side.

  “Coloring of the fur is right,” she announced coldly. “According to Gerald’s journal, Full Blood fur gets coarse and wiry after they die, so this one couldn’t have been dead for any more than a month. Probably less. Here we go,” she said while folding the flap of skin over to show Cole and then Rico. “These scars were made by a Blood Blade. They look like the ones on Burkis’s face. Same color around the edges, and this is the spot where I cut Henry open in Janesville.” Nodding while pointing to spots on the inside of the chest, she said, “Those are bites from a Nymar spore. You and I have seen plenty of those, Rico.” Looking to Cole, she added, “Usually, you only see bite marks like this on a Nymar’s heart.”

  Cole wanted to ask how she’d seen a Nymar’s heart before it dried up, but quickly decided he didn’t want to hear about it until his stomach had settled.

  Placing the flap so it covered its section of the werewolf’s chest cavity, Paige announced, “This is Henry. What the hell could have done this to a Full Blood?”

  “Jonah Lancroft did this,” Jordan said from just outside the room. “We were hidden and silenced, but we could hear him in here working…sawing.”

  “Where are the others?” Rico asked.

  Jordan locked eyes with him, grateful to have a point of focus away from the table. “What others?”

  “The other Dryads. We were told that you two were only the most recent ones that were kidnapped. There’s supposed to be more.”

  “They could be at other places like this,” Paige offered. “If Lancroft is able to teleport anywhere there’s a temple, he would need other nymphs to keep them working, right?”

  “We’re the only ones left,” Jordan said.

  Cole walked over to her and offered her the shirt he wore over his T-shirt. She allowed him to drape it over her shoulders, but wasn’t modest enough to close it. “Can you sense your sisters? Are they at another temple?” he asked, hoping that term might spark something in the woman.

  Whatever he may have sparked in her wasn’t good.

  She backed away from the door and then opened the shirt so Elsie could huddle in there with her. Once together, both Dryads put their backs to a wall and lowered their he
ads. “This is a Skipping Temple,” Jordan said. “Lancroft doesn’t need another one. It’s named that because it can work as a hub like the other temples or it can skip a traveler along to somewhere else like a stone across the top of a pond.”

  Paige left the examination room and stood beside Cole. “I’ve already been talking to them about the others, Cole. They’re gone.”

  “Gone where?”

  Tightening her grip on his arm, she pulled him all the way back to the workshop. Even then she kept her voice low. “The other nymphs are dead. Lancroft used most of them up for a healing tonic called Memory Water. According to Jordan, enough of that stuff in a properly distilled form could keep a human alive for a long time.”

  “Like…hundreds of years?”

  “Longer. He tore some of them up pretty badly and buried them when he was done.”

  Surrounded by all those carcasses on the benches or the hides that were stretched out to dry, Cole didn’t have any problem believing Lancroft could do such a thing to something as naturally beautiful as a Dryad.

  “He’s been going back and forth using this temple,” she continued, “and Elsie said the Dryads that weren’t killed to make that memory stuff were kept as an unwilling power source.”

  “But Tristan and Shae had to sing to get the beads to work,” Cole said. “Even Lancroft had to make them sing before he could go through.”

  “That was in a proper temple, but Lancroft doesn’t give a shit about that here. He forces them to transport him however it best suits him. Everything with those purple A-frames—from the architecture to the script on the walls—is to draw and store whatever energy these women produce. Without all of that, this place must be like letting your laptop run on its battery instead of plugging it into the wall. If you’re never able to recharge the right way, you need to keep replacing the battery. That’s all these women were to this guy, Cole. He used them up and tossed them out after they died from exhaustion.”

  Cole pulled in a few breaths, looked toward the temple and then studied the workshop. “So Lancroft traps creatures, strips them for parts, uses them up and dumps them. I guess that really does make him a Skinner, huh?”

  Paige knocked his shoulder so he was facing her directly. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Oh come on, Paige. The only reason we don’t have a setup like this in Rasa Hill is because we haven’t killed a Full Blood yet. The closest we got was watching one get dragged underground by Mongrels in Kansas City, and if you knew where they took him, are you telling me you wouldn’t like to dig him up and see how many different uses you could think of for all those teeth and bones?”

  “I’ve never seen anything like what’s in that room.”

  “Yeah? Well I might have believed you were all broken up about it if I hadn’t seen you gut a Half Breed in the backseat of your car.”

  “Half Breeds are different. They’re mobile wood chippers with a taste for our blood. Toss in a risk of becoming a wood chipper yourself and I don’t see a downside to killing them.”

  “Killing them is one thing. That,” Cole added while waving toward the room with the table, “is something else. I don’t even know what that is.”

  “Hunters hunt,” Paige stated. “Werewolves hunt us, and our choices are to hide, die, or hunt them. The Native Americans were Skinners long before us, and I mean that literally. They skinned werewolves the way they skinned buffalo and it worked out pretty well.” In a softer tone, she added, “This is the first time we may have spoken to something after it’s been laid out, pulled into a thousand separate pieces, and put into jars. Personally, that’s freaking me out too.”

  “He’s trying to get here again,” Jordan said from the doorway to the temple. “We can delay him long enough for you to leave, but it won’t be long before he forces one of our sisters to get here without our help.”

  “Let him come,” Cole said.

  Jordan blinked and was moved aside when Elsie poked her head into the workshop. “We haven’t heard the Mind Singer for a while, but there can’t be much time for us to get away.”

  “Let him come,” he repeated with more conviction. “We came here to get Lancroft, and we’re as ready now as we’re going to be, right?”

  Paige drew her left baton and formed it into a sickle. “If he wants to save us the trouble of tracking him down, I’m all for it. Where’s Rico?”

  “He’s still in the…the green room,” Jordan replied, obviously making an effort to mention the examination area without actually thinking about what it contained.

  Cole walked past the two women, but Paige gathered them under her arms like a mother hen with two nervous hatch-lings. “Do both of you need to be here for this temple to work?” she asked.

  “No,” Elsie replied. “He kept two of us so he always had at least one in case the other passed out or couldn’t form the bridge.”

  “All right, then. I want one of you to get out of here.” Both of the Dryads started to protest, but Paige had no trouble in overriding them. “We came here to help as many of you as possible, and we won’t risk you both getting hurt now. One goes back now and the other will leave as soon as you can after Lancroft gets here.”

  “No,” Jordan said sternly. “We’ll stay to help and that’s final.”

  “You two may fluster the guys, but I’m not as easily swayed as the ones in the next room. Do what I say and don’t make me say it again. I need you to tell your sisters what happened here. More importantly, once you’re gone, he’ll be stuck here. Am I right?”

  Both of them nodded. “If he has no sisters here and no sway over the others,” Jordan said, “then the temples are useless to him. But you’ll all be stuck here. Elsie can leave now, I’ll stay to help.”

  “Fine. Just get moving.”

  The Dryads huddled together and spoke in a series of words that were either too quick to understand or in some language that Paige had never encountered before. Rather than try to figure it out, she headed for the examination room where Rico was busy pulling open the last set of cabinets and Cole tapped furiously at the computer.

  “Hurry up,” she warned. “One of our girls is going to leave and then the other will bring Lancroft here. After that, hopefully the word will be spread and there’ll be no more magic beads for Jonah Lancroft.” There was a crackle of static followed by a flash from the temple behind her, prompting Paige to say, “Did I mention hurry?”

  Rico dumped the contents of the cabinet onto the floor. “I’m just tryin’ to get a handle on what we may be up against. Like if this guy was building weapons or if he might have worked something out to—”

  “To what?” she snapped. “Live for three hundred years?”

  “Yeah, or drop a Full Blood. Tricks like that would be good to know.”

  “What have you found?”

  Reluctantly, Rico let a metal tray fall from his grasp and said, “A whole lotta nothin’.”

  “What about you, Cole?”

  “I’m trying to get a copy of everything on this computer and send it to my laptop.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “Too damn long,” he replied. “I’ll get as much as I can, but he may be able to trace it to where I mailed it, so we need to let it run as long as possible and then destroy this computer. I mean really destroy it. No pieces intact.”

  “That’s some tech talk I can get behind,” Rico said through a wide grin.

  “I just found the Pestilence files!” Cole said. “At least it sure looks like them.”

  “Can you send ’em somewhere else besides your own e-mail?” Rico asked. “Just in case somethin’ happens to us?”

  Trying not to think about what that implied, Cole nodded. “Yeah. Like where?”

  “One of Ned’s hospital contacts back in St. Louis, Dr. Oehler.”

  Once he’d been given the doctor’s e-mail address, Cole made the necessary adjustments and paused before making them final. “You sure about this? There’s
a lot of stuff in here that we wouldn’t want in the wrong hands.”

  “We can trust the doc,” Rico said. “She’s one of ours.”

  After a few more frenzied taps on the keyboard, Cole switched the monitor off and backed away from the computer. The processor was still blinking and whirring, but at least the terminal looked idle from a distance. He then skirted the table without touching the limbs hanging off its edge and dug into his pocket for his cell phone.

  “What are you doing?” Paige asked as she checked the temple. Jordan swayed to a song only she could hear, and Elsie locked eyes with her sister as she stepped back through the glowing beads.

  Having already speed-dialed, Cole put the phone to his ear and said, “I’m calling MEG.”

  “Hang that damn thing up and get ready for whatever comes through this freaking curtain!” Paige said with a fury that was equal parts impatience and frustration.

  “Henry’s body may be dead on that table, but he’s still out there!” Cole said over the growing thrum filling the next room. “That means he’s a ghost, and ghosts are MEG’s territory.”

  “How much time until our guest arrives, Jordan?”

  When the Dryad stopped singing so she could respond, all of the glowing symbols dimmed. “He’s trying right now, and if I hold off much longer, he’ll know something is wrong.”

  “Hang up the phone,” Paige ordered.

  Cole slid his thumb along the side of his phone’s case to pop the earpiece from its resting place. “Am I the only Skinner who uses technology from this century?” he grumbled while putting the headset in his ear and the phone into his pocket. The next dial tone was washed out by a rush of sound that originated from one side of the basement, charged through the room, and rumbled several yards beyond the opposite wall. The beads were left crackling and swaying, but Elsie was gone.

  “—ranch 40, can anyone hear me?” someone shouted through Cole’s earpiece.

  “Yeah, is Stu there?”

  “I can help you. Do you have a disturbance to report?”