Decker said sharply, “What the hell is a Houngan?” Although he knew about many things, he had never thought about any of the things Chans was talking about. To him, like most others, zombies were the stuff of movie horror stories and overly active imaginations. The idea of them being real was almost beyond him. The only reason he had entertained the thought at all was that this was Chans. And of course, the fact that they were grasping at straws.
Terry was more open minded as well as a little more knowledgeable, thanks mainly to Charlie. In his travels, Charlie had come across the things Chans was talking about on several occasions, but they were always in the realm of fantasy. The fact that there were those that believed in them did not make them any more real to him, but they did have a structure of rules and regulations that seemed inviolate or, at least, consistent. Just the kind of thing that Charlie and all the Chrliti loved.
Chans went on stoically. He was still straining to maintain himself as he added.
“He walked straight ahead without making a sound. I could hear him breathing like he had a mask on, but his face was right there! Back home, when we saw one of them, we always knew what he was, even before we saw the eyes, from the smell. They had this scent. Dirt, pinewood from the coffin, death, all rolled into this funk that was easy to pick up. You could smell it long before they came into view. This guy, though, was clean! There was nothing that said he had been dug up out of a grave to serve the Houngan. This one was like everyone else but for the eyes.”
He stopped there to catch himself before he again started to lose himself to his fear. After a second, he took off again.
“The thing was, he could have seen me, but he just walked on by. Matter of fact, the further he walked, the more normal he looked. It was like whatever was controlling him was behind him, and the further he got from it, the more normal he became. Once he passed me, I couldn’t see his eyes, but I could tell he was almost like...reverting as he walked, changing back into a normal human. That was when I knew.”
Decker was thoroughly confused now. Almost plaintively, he asked. “Knew what?”
To both his surprise and Chans’, Terry answered the question almost immediately. Neither of them, however, knew that he was simply parroting what Charlie was telling him inside his mind.
“He’s afraid that this is a Bokor Houngan. A master’s master. Basically, a sorcerer. One who can not only make a zombie, but also turn him back into a human. If I remember right, that is the ultimate power. To create a zombie that does his bidding but then turns back into a human without any knowledge of what he did. A perfect weapon. Hell, if he did it right, the poor bastard can’t even tell anyone what happened or who did it to him.”
Chans was amazed.
Decker was stunned. He had done his due diligence on Terry as soon as he had heard about him, but still, he found himself also amazed by this apparent range of knowledge he was displaying. Amazed and impressed.
Suddenly, Rich, silent as a stone and just as immobile up to now, stepped up and handed Decker his phone, leaning forward to whisper into his ear. Without a word, Decker looked up at him then turned again to Chans.
“Chans, if you saw this zombie guy again, would you be able to recognize him?”
Chans’ face lit up with agitation and indignation, strangely enough, at the same time.
“I’ve been trying to get his face out of my mind ever since I saw it, especially those eyes! All the luck I had at it was enough to get some sleep. And that was full of nightmares. That face is here,” he tapped the side of his head, “to stay and that’s the end of it!”
With no further preparation, Decker slid Rich’s phone over to him silently. He wanted to see his reaction unaffected by any influence.
Chans stared at the picture. He knew what Decker wanted, but he just couldn’t give it to him.
“This picture is shit man. I can’t tell you if that is the guy or not from this thing. Show me a decent picture and I can tell you, but this? I couldn’t say one way or the other.
Decker stood slowly. “Rich, keep our guest here comfortable and happy. Chans, the bar is open but use some restraint. I may need you again to identify this guy, and I don’t want to have to sober you up first, okay?”
“You got his ass then?”
Decker smiled. “Not yet, but the night ain’t over.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
There was a lot of confusion at the mayor’s office. The two grisly murders near the tower were bad enough, but the two witnesses that had stumbled on the scene made the situation pretty much untenable. At the moment, they, the witnesses, had been sequestered in another of the mayor’s little hideaways, complete with any amenities they might like. A gilded cage but a cage nonetheless. And Cindy Moore was not one to be kept in a cage.
“Dammit, I want to go home! You sons of bitches can’t keep me here! This is kidnapping! I want—”
“Sit down and shut up, lady! You ain’t no kid, and this is a lot bigger than you know. So, why don’t you just enjoy a nice meal or a warm bath or something? Something quiet!”
That had come from Cecil Roan, one of the surlier of Decker’s men. Never known for his bedside manner or his patience, he was nonetheless one of Decker’s best men when it came to dealing with the unruly aspect of the public when it came right down to it. He believed fear was a much better motivator and had no problem inspiring it at every occasion.
He was continuing brusquely. “Listen, lady, you been bitching ever since you got here, and it hasn’t done a damn thing. What the hell makes you think that is going to change?”
Cindy narrowed her eyes as she hissed, “I want your badge number! When I get out of here, you and your bosses are gonna pay for this... this...harassment! And I mean pay big. And I am gonna love every second of it. Hell, I might even post it on You Tube!”
Now, Roan groaned. If there was one thing he hated, it was the fact that these days, anything that happened had a good chance to wind up on the internet and make his life miserable. Add in the fact that everybody who had a cell phone was his own studio and it made political correctness a mandatory inclination rather than the pain in the ass it had been at the turn of the century.
Still, it didn’t matter to him. His orders were to keep this pair on ice until someone showed up to relieve him and that was the end of it. So, whenever that happened, he was in the clear. Not that it mattered much to Mayor Simon. If he was out to pass you the buck, you were going to get stuck with it either way it went. His only chance was that he was, at best, a lower echelon and not really suited to carry that kind of responsibility, which suited him just fine.
He had already alerted Decker once the last of the scene had been taken care of. The cab had been towed and the scene sanitized. By the time the early morning rush started, it would look like any other day. Then would come the fun with these two but that wasn’t his problem.
Frank Jones had been relatively quiet compared to his companion. His only question once they had arrived being was the bar open. A few drinks of free scotch had gone a long way toward settling his nerves and a few after that had let him sit quietly while his new roommate ranted on about her civil rights and the like.
Roan knew both of them, like everyone else these days, had cell phones, but they would do them no good here. The choice of their location had not been capricious. This was one of the more modern of the rooms they used, equipped with the most modern surveillance equipment and controls, as well as an insulating layer that kept any transmissions from leaving or entering. The only way to make a call from inside the room, or to get one for that matter, was on the phone in the room, through the hotel operator. An archaic arrangement but one that kept those that they wanted kept off the grid as far off as they could get.
So, all he had to do was wait until Decker showed up and get out of the way. If he didn’t have to shoot this broad first.
“Lady, first of all, I ain’t a cop. Second, whoever you gonna call can kiss my ass! The only one I answe
r to will be here in a few, and then, he can deal with whatever bullshit you come up with. Trust me, I won’t give a fuck what it is. Now, will you shut the hell up?”
Cindy inhaled sharply as she readied another salvo.
This time though, she never finished as Frank Jones finally returned to the world of the living with a question, cutting off what promised to be a truly intense retort from Cindy.
“Do you know what happened to those guys?”
Roan and Cindy looked at the man then back at each other. She, realizing how trivial her complaints sounded in the scheme of things as they were right there and then. She hated Jones for a minute for making her realize that.
Roan wasn’t immune to the feeling. Or to the implications it brought. Fortunately, for him, he had little time to dwell on the matter, as Decker chose to arrive at that particular moment.
“What’s up, Roan? How about you tell us about these guys?”
Instead of answering though, Roan stood and handed his boss a tablet from a drawer in the desk. “The whole thing as we know it is on this thing. All the details of the autopsies and even the link to the traffic camera that told us what this little fucker looked like. The autopsies are prelims, but they were thorough. There are even pictures of the scene, the bodies, the whole thing. If this is the guy, he should be in custody any time now.”
Now, Decker took the time to look amazed. “You already identified him?”
Roan grinned with the kind of expression that told of his pride in both his work and his efficiency at it. “Yep. It wasn’t real hard. If he is our boy, he’s definitely none too bright, because he was listed in the phone book. Right down to an address. Some of the guys from the thirty-third are on their way to his place right now.”
Turning slightly to the side and lowering his voice, as much in deference to Terry as to the other two in the room, he added, “And this broad is gonna be trouble. She’s already shouting about badge numbers and the like and threatening to sue. This could take some real work once this thing is done.”
Decker smiled. “Oh, I think the lady can be made to see reason. See, I did a little checking too. Seems she has a brother with a few bad habits who has a sentencing hearing coming up in regard to a few of them.”
Roan frowned. “This chick might think that telling that to the papers would be worth it.”
Decker’s smile never wavered. “I really doubt that considering the maximum sentence is still on the table. Her brother doesn’t look the type to do ten to fifteen in Statesville.”
Roan nodded. Then, as if noticing him for the first time, he turned slightly, further away from Terry and asked quietly, “What about this new guy? I heard you and him had some trouble when he showed up.”
Decker held the smile, barely, as he answered dryly. “He doesn’t care much for being touched.”
Roan’s smile said volumes, but all he said out loud was, “Yeah, I gathered that.”
Decker let it go out of consideration for the time.
Terry, meanwhile, was deep into a very interesting conversation with Charlie inside his head.
Charlie, it seemed, had found another Chrliti.
This one was residing inside the mind of Frank Jones. The only trouble was that, as always, Charlie was unable to contact, for lack of a better word, him, without the contact such as with Traci. An unlikely scenario with this host. And yet, Charlie seemed to be cheerfully optimistic. And as it turned out for good reason.
Charlie began talking inside Terry’s mind. “You see, ever since your encounter with Traci, it seems your hold on me is weakened somewhat. I can almost feel it. A few more sessions like that and I may not even have to remain with you. In the interim, I am sure that if you can simply maintain a physical contact with him, the host that is, I may be able to talk to my brethren. I doubt it would be as clear a conversation as normal, but it would be a major breakthrough. At least in that regard.”
Terry was amazed, overjoyed and apprehensive at the same time. Despite his dislike for his situation with Charlie, he had long ago made up his mind that he and his people were, or rather could be, valuable aides to both mankind in general and him in particular. Although he had in the early days prayed fervently for a way out of what he thought of as his own particular hell, in the weeks and months afterward, he had come to admire Charlie’s wit and wisdom and, in many cases, to depend on it. The sudden idea of him leaving was distressing on a whole new and unexplored level. That exploration would have to wait, however, at least until this was over.
“All well and good,” Terry replied, “but how the hell do I maintain a contact with this guy? It ain’t like he’s gonna wanna hold hands.”
Charlie was not perturbed in the slightest. “The contact would not have to be direct. Given that both of us are, for the most part, energy, we can travel like electricity, via conduction. While the physical form might not do well at this early stage of my recovery, the communication between us would travel just as well as a current of electricity.”
Terry had never been the quickest kid in the class, but he had learned well in his time with Charlie how to ad lib.
Moving next to Decker, he whispered to him, “Listen, I think this guy could know more than even he thinks he does. How about you let me and him go for a walk and see what I can dig out of him?”
Decker was shocked. And not at all pleased with this new twist. “Are you kidding me? You get this guy out on the street, he bolts and finds his way to a phone and this thing could get outta hand real quick.”
Terry wasn’t about to give up so easily. “Not gonna take him outside, just out of here. It’ll give you a chance to talk to this chick in private and give him the feeling he isn’t a prisoner. If he loosens up, he could remember more.”
“For what? He already told us all he knows, and we got the guy’s location, so what do we need to push him for?”
Terry decided to use his supposed expertise to push the issue. “I don’t really know what I can find out. I just have this feeling that the guy has more to give. Remember, we have this guy, but he could turn out to be nothing. Meanwhile, this guy could forget something vital. Something we could use if this starts up again later.”
Decker wasn’t in the mood to argue, and besides, Terry was making sense in a way. If the guy knew anything else, he wasn’t going to do much cooperating here. Despite his calmness, he hadn’t really said anything other than to ask about the two men they had found. Other than that, his cohort had done most of the talking. And it would make it easier to deal with her if they were alone, so what the hell?
“Okay, but take Roan with you in case the guy tries something.” He held up his hands against the protest he thought was coming. “I don’t have any doubt you could stop him if he tried to run, but I can’t protect you if you hurt him. I know you’re good, but trust me, Roan is better at doing this than even you. And besides, I gotta get him out of here, too, if I want to talk to this broad alone.”
Terry didn’t mind. Roan wouldn’t be able to hear the conversation between Charlie and the other Chrliti, so if he were there, it wouldn’t matter. He did worry the guy might not want to open up around him, but since he wasn’t really the one that Terry wanted to talk to, it didn’t much matter.
So, after Decker explained to Roan what was going on, noticing the eyebrow that told him what Roan thought of the idea. Still, Decker was the boss. If he thought this could help, he was all for it. And besides, it wasn’t really his problem if it didn’t.
So, he simply handed Decker a phone, saying, “The cops are gonna call on this line once they have this guy. You keep it so you know what the play is once they do. I’ll go...play nursemaid to your boy. Hope the hell he knows what he’s doing.”
Decker laughed with a hint of a scoff in the middle of it as he said, “So do I.”
Terry, meanwhile, had thought up a plan to get a connection between Charlie and the other Chrliti. It was simply a matter of getting them on a conductive surface and letting them d
o the work. And he remembered seeing just what he needed in the bar downstairs. All he had to do was get him down there.
Given their unique perspective, as well as their hypersensitive senses, it was entirely possible that it could be a wealth of information that the host knew nothing of. Even though it seemed moot since the culprit would be in custody in a few minutes. Still it couldn’t hurt. And Terry figured that Charlie would enjoy talking to another of his people.
For Charlie, that was indeed a consideration but not his primary one. He had felt the anguish leeching off of Traci through Mir, as well as his own consternation. For both their sakes, he wanted this matter done with and justice served.
As a final addition, there was the matter of this zombie thing. He found it intriguing on a whole new level. All of which was going to make this very interesting indeed.
Roan, meanwhile, watched Terry with a critical eye. He knew only by rumor about the way Benin disliked him, the local grapevine being what it was, and he’d heard what that British guy thought of him the same way. So far, he had yet to form an opinion, so he was actually looking forward to seeing the man in action.
Charlie, meanwhile, was simply impatient to see how this new development would work. Terry knew from experience that Charlie needed just a few seconds of real time to learn all there was to know from his counterpart. Anything after that would be spent getting to know his new friend. So, if it worked, Terry intended to leave the connection as long as he could, just so the two of them could get to know each other. One never knew when it would come in handy.
All this said and done, the three of them headed for the bar, Jones basically in tow behind the other two men, still a bit drunk but looking forward to the prospect of more free liquor, as well as a better variety.
The Primal Connection Page 17