Judas (The Iscariot Warrior Series Book 1)

by Roy Bright

  “What time was that, Father?” he asks, making notes in a small brown, leather-bound book as Father Mallory recites the events.

  “Ohhhh, about five, maybe just a little after.” He looks at Gary.

  Gary stares back at the priest for a moment then makes a note of it in the book. “So, that’s when you found the body? I mean… Sister Marie.”

  “Yes, detective, she was just, there, exactly as she is now.” He once again motions with his head to the where the body of the Sister lay, only this time the gesture is more subdued.

  “And Charlotte was nowhere to be seen?”

  “No, she wasn’t, but just as I approached the body, I heard her scream. It was terrifying, detective. Chilling.”

  A moment’s silence.

  Gary stares at him. “And then what did you do, Father?” he asks, frowning and shaking his head a little, struggling to understand the priest’s actions at that point.

  “I ran over to the fire alarm there, and I set it off,” he says, pointing to a red panel on the wall across from his seated position.

  Another moment’s silence.

  “That’s it? You didn’t, head off in the direction of the child’s scream to see if she needed help?” he asks, puzzled.

  Father Mallory sighs, “Detective, I am seventy-eight years old. The body of my friend lay against the wall seemingly hurtled there by a powerful force; that much my old mind could ascertain. What would you have me do?” He begins to sob, his eyes still locked on Gary, pleading. “What would you have me do?”

  He regrets taking such an approach. “Father, I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause you any more anxiety than you have endured already, I just need to hear the facts. I’m truly sorry.” He checks his pockets for a tissue or handkerchief. He never carries one; it is more a gesture.

  Father Mallory holds up his hand to save the detective the trouble and pulls out a crumpled tissue from inside the sleeve of his jumper. “It’s okay, detective, it’s okay. As I said to your colleague, you are just doing your job.”

  “Thank you, sir.” He places his right hand on the Father’s left shoulder to reinforce the apology. “So, what did you do next?”

  “I just sat on the floor, staring at my friend until Fathers Maxwell and Riley appeared some minutes later, whereupon Father Riley ran off to call you people.”

  He nods at the priest for a few seconds whilst making notes in his book and then closes it. “Okay, I think I have everything I need, Father, I’ll have one of the uniformed officers escort you to your room. I take it it’s in the west wing?”

  He nods, still dabbing at small beads of tears in his eyes. “There is no need, detective. I can make my own way back. This is, after all, my home.”

  Gary beckons to the uniformed officer who had brought the chair for the priest. “I know, Father, but all the same, I would feel much better if we got you to your room safe and sound. It’s been a rough day for you. Officer Starrens here will take you back to your room.” He looks up at the officer and the man nods, confirming his understanding.

  Father Mallory ceases his protest and sighs, “Thank you, both of you. If I think of anything else at all, I will of course, let you know at once.”

  “That would be great, Father.” He reaches into the left breast pocket of his jacket, brings out a white business card, and hands it to him, pointing at it. “My direct and cell numbers. Give me a call if you think of anything more. Night or day, I don’t mind.” He smiles.

  Father Mallory looks at the business card, shakes it up and down and smiles.

  Officer Starrens helps him to his feet and starts to escort the aged man to his room in the west wing.

  “Oh, Father, just one more thing,” Gary says, stopping them and wincing to himself, aware of how much he sounds like detective Columbo from the television series, “My colleague mentioned that there is something I need to see in the classroom, have you been in there and seen it? If so, is there anything you can tell me about it before I see it for myself?”

  The Father stares at him for a couple of seconds and then shakes his head. “I’m afraid not, detective. I dared not venture into that room.”

  He stares back at the priest for a moment, then smiles. “Okay, Father, thank you very much for your time.”

  The priest turns and walks off with Officer Starrens. He avoids looking at the body of the Sister for a final time.

  Pete watches as the Father passes him by then strolls over to Gary. “That was a pretty tough ‘paint yourself into a corner’ type question there, buddy. You suspect the priest?”

  “Man, I suspect everyone, even you Stillman,” he says, turning towards Pete.

  They both laugh.

  “Well, I best get my alibi squared from your wife then.” Pete winces, realizing he has said the dumbest of things. “Ahhh, Gary, dude, I’m sorry man; I didn’t mean…. gah! I just didn’t think before…”

  “It’s okay, Pete,” he says, smiling at him. “Seriously, man, it’s okay.”

  Pete nods and offers an embarrassed shrug.

  Gary slaps the side of his shoulder. “So, what do I need to see in the classroom, buddy?”

  He motions for him to follow.

  “Dude, this is some of the freakiest shit I have seen to date. You seriously need to check this shit out!”

  The pair walks into the classroom and Pete points to the blackboard. Gary cocks his head to the left and frowns. “What the hell is that, Pete?”

  “Fucked if I know, man. Told you it was some freaky shit, didn’t I?”

  Gary approaches the blackboard. Examining it, he sees what appears to be a large inverted crucifix with a pentagram at the base, circling the points where the lines form the cross. He reasons that the symbol appears scored - no, melted into the slate. He doesn’t know an awful lot about the science and properties of slate but he concludes that this must be quite a rare thing indeed. He looks around, examining the desk. On the floor next to an overturned chair, he sees a large pool of blood. Leading away from the pool are smaller to medium-sized droplets. They appear to head towards the door. Moving towards the symbol, he reaches out to touch it; he wants to run his fingers over it, to feel the texture.

  “Oh, no, no, no, dude, I wouldn’t do that. We ain’t sure if that bad boy is, well, sort of, radioactive or something.”

  “What? Why would you say that?” he says, frowning.

  “Because one of the uniforms found out its appearance ain’t the only freaky shit going on with this thing.” He walks past him and stands just behind the desk in front of the blackboard. He pulls out a metal pen from his inside jacket pocket, presents it to Gary, raises his eyebrows, then takes a few steps forward. With the pen horizontal to his eye level, he moves it towards the symbol and lets it go. The pen flies out of his hand covering the three feet over the desk, lands smack bang in the center of the symbol with a firm whack and hangs there of its own accord. Pete looks at Gary and smiles. “Freaky, eh?”

  “No shit!” He laughs, whilst at the same time putting his hands on his hips, raising the bottom of his jacket.

  The pair stand, puzzled, examining the pen stuck to the symbol. “Magnetic?” Gary looks at Pete.

  “Dunno, like I said, we don’t know if it’s radioactive or what! I got a uniform to take the pen down last time. Shit! It can stay there this time.”

  Gary walks over to the symbol and reaches out for the pen.

  “Gar—”

  Gary holds up his right hand to Pete, interrupting him. “I don’t think this is radioactive, I think it’s just… charged still.”

  He reaches out to grab the pen and it falls to the floor making them both jump.

  “Jesus H Christ!” Pete laughs, “Nearly gave me a goddamn heart attack.”

  Gary nods, also laughing. “I think the charge just ran out.”

  The coroner’s voice cuts short their laughter. “Gentlemen!”

  Gary and Pete swing round.

  “Hey, doc, you ready for us?�
� Gary asks.

  “Yes and I have some very interesting information to share with you,” he says, peering over his spectacles then pushing them back up the bridge of his nose.

  Gary looks at Pete and his colleague shrugs.

  They follow the coroner to the body and adopt kneeling positions either side of it, with Gary on the right side just behind him.

  “Okay, what I can tell you is that she didn’t die from having her neck broken.”

  “What? Her hitting the wall didn’t do that to her neck?” Gary says, pointing to the Sister’s twisted neck.

  “No, not at all.” The coroner grabs the Sister’s body and eases it forwards to reveal a very large and deep, crescent-shaped gaping wound in her back. “Having her heart ripped out of her body from her back is what actually did it.” He looks at the two men in a very ‘matter of fact’ manner.

  “Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” Pete says, his reaction one of disbelief and horror.

  Gary frowns, his eyes darting back and forth over the wound, attempting to forge a logical explanation. “What the hell could’ve done that, doc?” He looks at the coroner with alarm. “A man?”

  The coroner sighs and shrugs. “I dunno, possibly. But, if it was a man then he was wearing hardware.”

  “Hardware?” Gary looks at him. “Whaddya mean, hardware?”

  “Okay, look here,” the coroner points to the wound. “This is a classic case of a ‘Sharp Force Injury’ but with slight twists.”

  Both detectives look at him confused.

  He stares back at them for a moment and then takes a pen out of his top pocket. “Well, this is a kind of stab or puncture wound produced by three sharp pointed objects as depicted by the direction of the force being more perpendicular to that of the skin surface rather than, tangential or parallel as you would normally see from an incision or cut wound. Notice here the slight ripping of the skin: three distinct entry points all six inches apart.” He taps the marks with his pen one by one from left to right. “Now, notice the direction of the trauma to the tissue inside the wound.”

  “It appears to be in an outward direction,” Gary says.

  “Yes! Good, Detective Cross. An outward direction indeed. Now, the wound is six inches across, crescent-shaped, with three distinct entry points causing a ripping action to the skin leading me to believe that the wound was caused by the entry of a claw or claw-shaped device into this woman’s back, closing around her entire heart and pulling it out in one swift movement hence the outward trauma of the tissue.” He looks at the detectives once again. “Do you gentlemen know how much force it would take for a man to perform such a feat?”

  They stare back at him and almost in unison shake their heads.

  The coroner sighs. “Neither do I, to be honest, but I would imagine it would have to be incredible! Now, despite what certain television shows would have you believe, I cannot tell you which hand and I use that word loosely here gentlemen, caused the injury but what I can tell you whichever it was, was massive and she was without a doubt taken by surprise and from behind.”

  “How do you know that?” Pete asks.

  The coroner returns the Sister’s body to rest against the wall with the same care that he used to pull her forwards and points to her eyes. “Because, Detective, that is the look of a surprised woman; forever locked in the moment of her immediate death. The injury to her neck was, I believe, caused by whatever killed this woman, spinning her round sharply by her head before launching her through the air.”

  Gary and Pete once again look at each in disbelief.

  “You got an estimated time of death for us, doc?” Pete enquires whilst opening his notebook and clicking his pen, interrupting the tension.

  “Umm, well, judging by the algor, livor and rigor mortis of the body I would estimate sometime between four and five pm but most likely closer to five than four.”

  Pete notes this down.

  The coroner’s face grows sullen. He stares at the two detectives. “I have been doing this for nineteen and a half years, gentlemen, and I have attended all manner of strange and bizarre scenes, but I am telling you this now, to your faces, that this one has me scared out of my wits and I’m extremely grateful for the fact that I am not going to be the one hunting this monster down!”

  Pete looks at the coroner and, half-laughing, quips, “Monster? Why would you say monster?”

  Gary is now standing and looking back at the classroom. The insight the coroner has given him has started up the machine again and cogs are moving within his mind. He has always had a knack for playing the scene out in his head and on many occasions he has been one hundred percent correct; a fact that had unsettled his colleagues. “Because, Pete, whatever did this had done so without alerting the Sister. Whatever did this had to have been huge and powerful, yet it managed to sneak up behind her seemingly from out of nowhere. I mean, how on earth could something like that hide in a classroom as bare as this? Just a few bookcases and old desks; how could something that was probably the size of a grizzly hide in here, Pete?”

  Pete stands and turns his attention towards the classroom, shaking his head. The coroner also stands.

  “And I tell you what, Pete, I’m beginning to share Phil here’s anxiety because, not only did this grizzly-sized bastard surprise her, force a claw through her back, grab her heart and pull it out in one fell swoop. It broke her neck afterwards screwing her head around like it was a rag doll, lifted her up into the air, a woman who by the look of her weighs about a hundred and fifty pounds and threw her thirty feet to this point here.” He indicates the start location of the blood smear. “Where she lands on her back as the blood pattern sprays outward. Not to mention, she is thrown with such velocity that it propels her across the hall and into the wall there in that position.” He follows the movement through with his hand.

  Pete follows the motion then screws up his face. “How do you know she was thrown?”

  “Because,” he says walking back into the classroom, “look here, a pool of blood, yeah? This is where the attack first happened, where it ripped through her back. Then nothing, except a few drops of blood periodically until the spatter point over by the door.”

  “So? He could have carried her!”

  “Not likely, detective,” the coroner interrupts. “If he had carried her there would have been a more substantial trail of blood leading from the attack site to the doorway. No, as much as it terrifies me to say so, I have to agree with Detective Cross here, this woman was thrown thirty feet through the air to that point. Thirty feet!” He stares at them both. “I’m gonna say it again gentlemen, I am glad I am not the one hunting this monster down.”

  “Fuck me!” Pete blurts. “What the hell is going on here, Gary?”

  “I dunno, man, but I tell ya what, we better find that child and quick!”

  Pete grabs his walkie-talkie from his belt and presses the talk button. “Martin!” The radio squelches, then a moment’s silence.

  “Yeah?” A voice spurts out of the radio’s speaker and it squelches again.

  “You find anything at the back of the house? Any sign of the child?”

  “Nah, no sign of her, but something definitely went on back here buddy. Gary with you?”

  “Yeah, man, Gary’s here!”

  “Well, you two best get down here and check this shit out. Something freaky’s going on here, dude.”

  “Jesus, Martin! Ain’t that the fucking truth! Okay, buddy, we’re on our way down.”

  “Cool, bro, see ya’s in five!”

  Pete puts the radio back onto his belt. “Okay, Gary, back of the house it is then.”

  Gary nods then turns to the coroner. “Thanks, Phil.” He says, walking off up the corridor towards the vicinity in which he questioned Father Mallory.

  “My pleasure gentlemen and, guys, be careful now.”

  They both stop and turn to face him.

  “I mean it fellas. This shit ain’t right!”

  “Damn straigh
t, it ain’t!” says Pete as he looks at Gary whilst tapping him on the back.

  Gary nods and heads off with Pete.

  They follow the corridor round to the right and head down another long stretch of about a hundred and fifty feet. Pictures of religious figures adorn the walls and doors branch off into what must be other classrooms and offices. They pass a trophy cabinet towards the end of the corridor and both men look inside without stopping. It’s full. It seems the orphanage is good at producing winners at sports. At the end of the corridor they turn right again and set off down a shorter one of about fifty feet. They pass Father Mallory’s office.

  Gary peers inside, noticing a telephone and pieces of paper strewn on the floor. He stops.

  Pete does the same.

  He examines the scene for a second, looks at Pete, says nothing, and then continues down the corridor.

  They pass another doorway and he stops again. The doorframe displays heavy damage on the right-hand side. Tables and chairs in the room seem flung about in a chaotic manner.

  He walks into the room and Pete stands at the doorway.

  He studies the room for a moment and then announces, “She was being hunted, Pete!”

  “What?”

  “The girl, she was being hunted by… something!” He walks back out of the door and points back up the corridor towards Father Mallory’s office. “She hid in the Father’s office; I expect under the desk. Something came in after her, most likely jumping on the desk in the process, the phone and papers on the floor indicate that.”

  Pete’s curiosity is aroused. Watching Gary figure things out in half the time it took other detectives was always a remarkable sight. He relished it.

  “Somehow she managed to get out of the room without being seen… or most likely, whatever was hunting her left before she did.” He turns around and faces down the corridor towards the top of the stairs at the end. “She got to this point here next to this room then must have seen her pursuer at the top of the stairs, causing her to dart into this room and under the tables and chairs.” He points to the wall where Charlotte took refuge from the onslaught of the creature. “Whatever chased her down did so with great speed as it was unable to come to a stop and it smashed into the doorframe here.” He points to the damaged frame. “It then started to attack the girl, trying to get at her through the desks and chairs.” He pauses for a moment. “Question is, given the level of brutality we are witnessing here and what we think is something of a massive size, how the hell did she manage to get out of this room without being caught?” He scans the room.